you make me shiver with the fire you got....
this thing we started, i don't want it to stop.
lip gallagher x fem! oc
shameless us/ season one-five
childhood friends to lovers tro...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝗚𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗙 𝗜𝗦 𝗔 𝗙𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚. It's malevolent and woe, or an effervescent excuse to turn something horrible into something worth celebrating. That something being the accedence of a buddingly fulfilled life.
But that wasn't necessarily the case with the last-minute put together procession that Spencer was currently blankly standing in the midst of. It was a less than quaint remembrance service right outside a liquor store for a woman who'd been dead for at least 7 years. The remains encased within her jar of ashes belonging to the unfortunate unidentified Jane Doe that she'd aided in dragging up a flight of stairs, and nearly watched get dismembered.
Or possibly, they could've also belonged to the real Aunt Ginger too. That someone in the family had preserved them for nearly a decade for the right time to send her on her merry way.
She liked to think the contrary to both of those thesis's.
Currently, Spencer was in and out of concentration. The druid curse of fatigue was ebbing at her like some sicklet thorn digging into her ribcage. Over what? Well, she couldn't pinpoint it. The solution was pretty obvious....lay down and sleep. Get the recommended hours, and eat more than a morsel of food per day ( another issue to pile on ).
But she couldn't, her body and her mind had refused, opting instead to hone in on those damn letters.
She'd gone down a dangerous spiral that had ended in her fist feeling numb from hitting the keyboard out of frustration, and a new leading update on her Dad. The one topic that she had promised herself that she wouldn't touch with a 50 meter pole. From the sealed envelopes that Coral had stashed away in various nefarious areas of their home, a reoccurring serial number was repetitively stamped in black on the top hand right corner.
