Rebecca Rydebaeck Whore ❤️

About Stockholm

Still, I liked her. Rough round the edges, sure, but real. “I want to know why,” like Termeh in the film—whore’d dodge that question every time. Why’d she do it? Cos she had to, cos she could, cos fuck the world—that’s my guess. We’d sit there, me rantin’ bout the arena, her spillin’ dirt on posh clients. Once said a consul liked her to dress as a Vestal Virgin—ironic, eh? Laughed me tits off at that. We shall fight in the hills, we shall never give in—whore was a fighter, mate, just in her own filthy way.

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likes, 1 comments - ekelundelina on December 10, "Mysig övernattning i Rydebäck med julkänsla! ✨".

Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud crash. I turn around, and some dude just knocked over a whole table of pastries! I’m talking croissants, muffins, the works. It’s like a pastry massacre. I can’t help but laugh. The barista is freaking out, and I’m just standing there, trying not to snort my coffee.