#bowie i forgot your tag give me a moment

[lesbianoutrider]

5, 13, 28?

5. How long have you been using your current labels?

i started identifying as lesbian earlier this year and i had been jumping around between nb and agender before i settled on agender. and asexual has almost always been a constant /hj

13. Favorite colors?

ummm i love the colors of the lesbian flag imo it just goes super well together. also i like green too :]

28. Any celebrity crushes?

NOT answering this. only kittie knows. but i will say that comphet gets me a lot with celebrities

[oasis-for3v3r]

Cloud 9 <3

Prompt-reader is a famous singer and performs her first live performance with David Bowie, doing a duet of Under Pressure on Live Aid

David Bowie x Reader Platonic Pairing @laneofpennies​ @a-none-bee​ @angelofhell323​

Warnings: none unless you count descriptions of nervousness. And a lengthy fic

Okay, let’s do it.

Was the first thing you said to yourself. At eight am. On a Saturday. In the middle of July. You usually be sleeping until 2pm on weekends since you were usually so busy on the weekdays. Being Englands new up- and- coming musician is all. 

“Ow!” you said as your foot slipped on something and stubbed your toe on the edge of the dresser. You bit back a mirad of curses as you picked up the foul weapon.

Oh.

Sky Heavens- Head in the Clouds. Your first album. Of course. You were lucky enough to get one from the store. Nearly all of the record shops were sold out. You should be happy, I mean sales were doing great, and as for the royalties-

Oh my gosh how has it ben 25 minutes already?!. 

It was a very important day for you.. you were preforming for your first crowd ever. So of course you were excited. but more nervous because, it was your first time. And you had terrible stage fright. And you were doing a duet with David Bowie. Oh you almost forgot.

Your first performance was gonna be Live Aid.

As you tucked in your fancy bell-sleeved bloused you asked yourself a string of questions. For example:

How in the hell did you get into live aid?

What song were you gonna sing with David, er Mr.Bowie?

Were there gonna be high notes? Could you even hit them?

Am i dressing too casual?

Oh my gosh, were going after Queen.

Your final though was punctuated with a hailing of a cab. You felt dizzy after you entered the car so you focused on the horizon, which made your eyes get heavier and heavier until...

“Ma’am this is a cab not a daycare” the driver grunted.

Your head snapped up, wiping the drool off off your chin. You have got to stop making this a habit. You scolded to yourself.

Every time your legs hit the ground of Wembely Stadium, you could feel the muscles in your leg turn into jelly. Your heartbeat is playing the percussion. And your pretty sure that your haven’t taken a breath since coming out of the cab.

You finally taken a breather when you hear commotion coming from the nearest hallway. You saw so many stars you could’ve swore you were in space. You saw Elton John, Freddie Mercury, Roger Taylor, Brian May, (you couldn’t find John Deacon) Adam Ant was sitting on a couch reading a magazine. Next to him was Elvis Costello sticking straws down his hair, you were about to laugh when-

“Boo!”

“Jesus!”

 “No this is David.” joked a lanky man with blond hair, and a pastel blue suit, matching your all white outfit (with a pale blue headband) making you too look like the color of the sky.

“Mr.Bow- David, hi!” you exclaimed, trying to sound as cheery as possible. 

He hesitated for a moment looking in your eyes as if searching for something only for a moment. “Come into my trailer, i need to talk to you.” he says softly.

You followed him into what looked like a portal to the personification of serenity. There were books piled on top of a small table. A kettle burning on low. With not surprisingly, a pile of teacups littered on top of the counter.  You also noticed (on nosier inspection) small annotations scribbled in the corners.

“Y/N!!”

“YES” you exclaimed, jumping slightly. You have got to start paying more attention to your surroundings.

“Tell me whats on your mind, and be honest” his voice was filled with concern, but somehow still comforting.

You took a breath- seventh one today. And started:

“ I feel like everyone will be disappointed, when they see me. All I ever wanted to do was make music that someone will relate to and find comfort in. And now that I have that, which I am very grateful for, I have to handle the price of fame as well. People put celebrities on pedestals and if they make one mistake in the public eye the pedestal crumbles. And don’t even get me started on the media. And today one of the biggest days in history, and if I do bad, then i will not only disappoint myself but the families in Africa who are relying on me to succeed. And-”

“Y/N” David said sternly “Calm down, you will be fine.” He took a breather and said.” You remind me of myself when I was younger, a shy little Capricorn boy, I just wanted to make music, and the fame tagged along. Its what happens eventually. I just used theatrics to cover up the stage fright.” “Now I just focus on the crowd as if they were one person and give them ll the light I have.”

“As for you when singing Under Pressure with me- while singing Freddie’s part- I want you to take all of the audience’s energy, make it into light and give it towards the sky.” “Give everybody hope.”

Just then you heard.a knock at the trailer. it was time for you to get ready. 

You watched as Queen rocked the show. This was gonna be hard for you to follow up. You felt like this performance was gonna be talked about for decades. You felt pity for the future generations that wont get to see this. 

You watched with butterflies in your stomach, as you saw David perform TVC 15 which bleed into Rebel Rebel. You smiled with fondness, as the corners of your mouth twitched,(which happened often when you’re nervous). When you were turned around.

Moustace, Freddie Mercury.

“Hello, Darling. You’re going up next with Under Pressure, right?”

“Y-Yes ” you were shaking

“ Well don’t fuck it up darling. And make everyone proud.” He said with a smile (that was also in his eyes)

You nodded, and he turned you back around. Just in time for you to be handed a microphone and introduced by David.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome to the stage-for the first time ever- Sky Heavens!!!”

You heard more applause than you expected. But then again it was your very first time ;)

You heard the beginning of the song, and you knew you had no time to be nervous as you started:

Mmm num ba de Dum bum ba be Doo buh dum ba beh beh

Then together-

Pressure pushing down on me Pressing down on you, no man ask for Under pressure that burns a building down Splits a family in two Puts people on streets

Um ba ba be Um ba ba be De day da Ee day da- that's okay

So far you have just been looking at the horizon, seeing the sun begin its descent, little by little. 

It's the terror of knowing what this world is about Watching some good friends screaming, "Let me out!" Pray tomorrow gets me higher Pressure on people, people on streets

This is for peace and hope in Africa.

Chipping around, kick my brains around the floor These are the days it never rains but it pours Ee do ba be Ee da ba ba ba Um bo bo People on streets Ee da de da de People on streets

This is for anyone who has felt stress for being themselves

It's the terror of knowing what this world is about Watching some good friends screaming, 'Let me out' Pray tomorrow gets me higher, high Pressure on people, people on streets

The sun was setting now, making the crowd look like angels and your outfit dipped in the sun. David was looking at you with the biggest grin on his face as if seeing his child gain confidence. The high note was coming, and you were ready.

Take all the Audiences Energy

Turned away from it all like a blind man

Make it into light

Sat on a fence but it don't work

Give it towards the sky

Keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn 

Give everybody hope

Why, why, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!

That was the highest note you had ever hit. The energy that the crowd was giving you was electric. You felt unstoppable.

Insanity laughs under pressure we're breaking

David was practically yelling into the mic, as he felt unstoppable with you too.

Can't we give ourselves one more chance? Why can't we give love that one more chance? Why can't we give love, give love, give love, give love Give love, give love, give love, give love, give love?

Because love's such an old-fashioned word And love dares you to care for The people on the (People on streets) edge of the night And love (People on streets) dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves This is our last dance This is our last dance This is ourselves under pressure Under pressure Under pressure Pressure

On the final word you hugged David, he shouted in your ear so you hear him over the roaring crowd. “YOU DID IT LOVE!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOU111″

You look over his shoulder to see Freddie Mercury.

Clapping.

For You.

You felt as if there was the sun poured inside of you. As if you were weightless. You found your new home; on Cloud 9.

[your-eternal-muse]

You Gave Her Your Sweater

Heather Series Part 11

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Bonus!:Readers Card Confession Bonus!:To Hold On, To Let Go, Spencers take Bonus!:Series Playlist

Summery: Reader runs into Heather while wearing Spencer’s sweater, solidifying the difference in their relationships.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, mentions of cheating

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

A/N: Okay guys, the next chapter is the last one! And I promise its gonna be so fucking long, and so fucking cute it’ll give you cavities. I’m gonna give you the good shit. The next couple weeks I might be a little slower at posting because I submitted an application for an apartment me and my sister want, and I’m fairly certain were gonna get it, so I’ll be busy packing and stuff. Thank you for your continued support!

~~~~~

I never liked grocery shopping.

I know it’s essential, but the task itself is so draining, so boring.

Even still, I can’t help but wander around, buying shit that looks good that I absolutely do not need.

I know you’re not supposed to go when you’re hungry, but I can’t help it.

I guess that’s an upside of being married to the man I am.

While one of his hands is situated in the back pocket of my jeans, the other holds a piece of paper that holds our grocery list, and he is a stickler for keeping to it.

He’s subtly leading me down the aisles as I push the cart, which is already half full of what we need.

Grocery shopping with Spencer is different.

It doesn’t feel like a chore when he’s with me.

It also cuts the time by at least half, because he doesn’t let me stray from the list. 

But I’ve had a special circumstance these past few months.

“You know what sounds so good right now?” I ask him, as he begins to lead me down the cereal aisle.

“What’s that baby?”

He removes his hand from my pocket, reaching up to grab a box off the top shelf.

“Shrimp. With cocktail sauce.”

My mouth starts to water just thinking about it.

He laughs, walking back to me, placing it in our cart.

“You hate shrimp.”

I roll my eyes. “I also hate pickles, but last week I couldn’t stop eating them. And besides,” I run my hands over my growing belly. “It’s not my fault.”

He smiles, shaking his head, coming forward to rest his hands on top of mine, leaning down and kissing the tip of my nose.

“I’ll go get you some. While you,” he slips the list into the front pocket of the sweatshirt I’m wearing. “Continue shopping.”

“Thank you, Spence.”

“Anything for my girls.”

His hands come to lift the hood over my head, pulling the string, shrinking it around my face.

“I’m never gonna get my sweatshirt back am I?”

I shake my head. “I’m gonna be buried in this thing.”

He rolls his eyes before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

“It looks better on you anyways. I’ll be right back.”

He turns and walks back down the aisle, only to turn back and say “Don’t stray from the list!”

I raise my hands defensively. “I won’t!”

I watch as he disappears around the corner before reaching into the cart and pulling out the box of cheerios, doing my best to place it back on the shelf.

“How can he like cheerios? Fuckin’ weirdo, Reese's Puffs are where it’s at.”

I grab the orange box, only pausing when I feel a kick against my side. 

“I’m gonna assume you agree with me. Cheerios are nasty. Don’t worry, we’ll make daddy see.”

Another movement, and my hand finds the place against my side, pressing lightly. “Okay, baby girl, mama still has to shop.”

“You’re wearing his sweater.”

I pause my movements, my hand still resting on my stomach.

It can’t be.

I mean it can, you do live in the same area that she does.

I turn, to see Heather standing in the middle of the aisle, her gaze falling down to my stomach, and then back up to the lettering across my chest that says ‘CalTech’.

I shove my hands into the front pocket, not really sure what to say. 

“I was cold, and I forgot mine at my place when he gave it to me.” I take my left hand out to brush some hair out of my face, letting her see the diamond ring that rests on my finger.

“He never offered one to me. Even when I forgot mine.” Her hands are in her front pockets of her jeans, and she doesn’t meet my eye.

I shrug. 

Is that supposed to make me feel bad for you?

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that, Heather.”

It’s quiet for a moment, as much as it can be in the middle of a grocery store. 

She’s the one to break the silence. “How far along are you?”

None of your fucking business bitch.

“6 months.” I cradle my stomach with my hands, smiling down at it. “We’re having a girl.”

She shuffles from side to side, running her hands over her jeans, her arms, through her hair.

I can’t help being proud of the fact that even six months pregnant, I still make her nervous. 

“You know, we talked about having kids. Or well, I talked.” It’s then that she finally meets my eye. “He told me he didn’t want any.”

I let a smirk slide over my face. “Spencer loves kids. Even before we got together he always said he wanted kids.” I look her up and down. “Guess he just didn’t want any with you.”

It’s been three years. It’s been a long time, and I know Spencer’s over her. I know I should throw her a bone, ease up on the sarcasm and poison laced words.

But she hurt him. She broke him. It took months for him to fully admit that he did love her in some way, shape or form, and that the betrayal of that love hurt. 

I would never forgive her for that, no matter what she did. No matter if he does.

The look of hurt passes over her face, but then a crying child is heard behind her and she turns. 

I look over her shoulder, and the man I saw that night at the bar is walking towards her with a spitting image of her in the seat. 

The child is crying over something I couldn’t really decipher, and I see her shoulders tense as his eyes meet mine.

I take in the ring on his finger, the one on hers, and finally look at how old her daughter is.

She knows, and turns back to me, panic slapped across her face.

“How old is she?”

She swallows, and her husband is trying to get her to stop crying. “She’s two and half.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what that implies.

It’s just one thing after another, isn’t it?

“You gotta be kidding me. Are you fucking serious right now?” I cross my arms over my chest, cocking an eyebrow. 

She starts to pick at her cuticles. “I didn’t find out until after the divorce was finalized. My doctor said I got pregnant at the end of April.” 

She was pregnant with another man's baby for almost 2 and half months, while being married to him.

Buckle up baby, I’m about to rock this bitches shit for a second time.

“You were going to pass it off as his, weren’t you? You were going to fuck him, and than two weeks later tell him that you were pregnant.”

I take a step forward, anger boiling in my chest. “You know he’s a fucking genius right? He’d do the math in .2 seconds and figure it out? What is with you and thinking you can get away with this shit?”

He must have sensed a disturbance in the force, because not two seconds later he comes around the corner, holding my snack in his hands, only to pause when he takes in the scene. 

His eyes flicker to me, then to Heather, the baby, and finally the man, who is puffing his chest to try and appear like the alpha male he thinks he is.

His hands tighten around the container of shrimp, before walking past all three of them, coming to stand behind me, tossing the container into the cart, one hand back in my back pocket, the other in his front. 

He stares down Heather, his eyes going back to the child every couple of seconds. 

I know he’s doing the math in his head, and he figured it out probably faster than I did.

“Unbelievable.”

She pinches the bridge of her crooked nose, looking up to say something but I cut her off. 

“Don’t. You have nothing to prove to us. You made your choice, now you have to live with it.” I look at the man behind her.

“Not even half the man.”

Spencer turns towards me, his chest moving to contain laughter at the look on her face.

Not giving her a chance to get the last word, I turn, and push the cart down the rest of the aisle, turning it as I hear her start to yell at him and her daughter.

He pulls me into an empty one a few rows down, turning me to face him as he leans down and kisses me. 

I wish I could kiss him forever.

“I love you so much, you don’t even know.”

I grab his hands and place them on my stomach, where our daughter was making herself comfortable. “I think I have an idea.”

He laughs, his eyes not leaving my stomach as he feels her movements. 

After a few moments, he removes his hands, grabbing one of my own as he turns me back around to keep shopping. 

“Really?” He points to the box of Reese's Puffs. 

“What? The list said cereal, Reese's puffs are cereal!”

He shakes his head, kissing the top of my head. 

“Whatever you say, dear.”

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[kazosa]

I Drove All Night

Summary: Dean and the reader knew each other and they had been close. Dean’s life scared the reader and she bailed to her unending regret. She never told him how she really felt.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 1800

Song inspiration: “I Drove All Night” by Roy Orbison

Warnings: possible language, smut, talk of death

A/N: big thanks to @coffee-obsessed-writer she knows what she did ;)

Tagging: @coffee-obsessed-writer   @spnhollis   @his-paradox

     Dean punched the gas and Baby’s engine roared with power as he sped down a dark and lonesome highway. The cool fall air whipped around his face and neck, like a slap, keeping him awake. He’d missed the call from (Y/N). He was at a bar without Sam, the prude, looking to let off some steam… somehow. He found a decent looking waitress and was about to leave with her when he saw he had a voicemail from (Y/N).

Dean… it’s me… somethings happened… I… I can’t deal with this shit alone… would you please come? You know where to find me.

     He didn’t even think twice and told the waitress, “Maybe another time” and left her sputtering on the sidewalk as he jogged to his car. He texted Sam a quick message and took off. When he tried to call (Y/N) back, her phone went straight to voicemail. He wasn’t in a panic, but his mind did run through every possibility of why she could have called. Whatever it was, it was him she called and he wasn’t going to let her down.

     Where the headlights didn’t reach, the moonlight and stars lit the way. The pavement stretched out in front of him like a shiny ribbon, leading all the way to (Y/N).

     After the way they’d left things, it surprised him that she called, but he was glad she did. There were too many things left unsaid between them and he was going to take his chance.

     The sky was turning from black to gray and when he pulled into her driveway, the first purples and pinks were beginning to show. He parked his car and got out. At her door, he hoped she kept her key in the same place. His fingers barely fit behind the light, but the key fell into his hand.

     His heart thumped with excitement as he put the key in the slot and turned. The tumblers seemed to pop like a firecracker in the stillness of the morning. As quietly as he could he slipped inside and locked the door behind him. He laid the key on the kitchen counter and made his way to her bedroom. When he reached her closed door, he wondered if she still slept with a blade…

     Carefully, he opened the door, remembering to lift as he did so. It creaked still, but only a little. He slipped inside her still dark room. She had blackout curtains that he’d always appreciated. 

     (Y/N) was there and his breath caught for a second. Her hair was spread out behind her on the pillow. The sheets were a twisted mess around her. She hadn’t slept well and he knew her well enough to know something was wrong.

     He sat down on the bed to take off his boots hoping he wouldn’t catch a blade between his shoulders. (Y/N) didn’t stir as he unbuttoned his flannel and took it off.

     Your sleep had been fitful at best. No matter what you did, you just couldn’t get comfortable. In the middle of the night, you gave up and had a few drinks. Half a dozen times, you picked up the phone to call Dean. Somewhere around 2 a.m., you pressed ‘send’ and let it connect. Of course, it went to voicemail and you left him a rambling message you wished you could have deleted.

     Finishing your last drink, you went back to bed and hoped sleep would find you with the help of your alcoholic drinks. You tossed and turned for a while longer, wondering if Dean would get your message. Would he show up if he did?

     The last time you saw Dean, he was standing at the metal door to the bunker as you drove away. You tried to understand his life. Tried to accept that he would show up at your house at odd times to get cleaned up, patched up, ask for help. Most of the time, you were on pins and needles wondering what horrible thing would happen next. It was too much and you’d cut ties. 

     When you called him, even the sound of his voice in his voicemail message stirred up old feelings. You’d never really gotten a chance to have a real relationship with Dean. You weren’t even sure if he had any kind of feelings for you. If he had… you broke it off before anything could start. It was a decision you’d come to regret countless times. You missed your friend. You missed Dean.

     You didn’t know when you fell asleep, you just woke to the feel of a familiar presence on your bed. You slowly reached for the knife between the mattress and box spring. When you realized the person was humming “Roll Me Away” you relaxed, knowing it was Dean.

     “You gonna stab me with that sword you keep?” he asked softly.

     His voice was the only sound in the room, other than your fan. “It’s a Bowie knife, not a sword.”

     “Trust me, looks like a sword when it’s pointed at your face,” he tossed his flannel on top of his boots. 

     You could almost cry. “You came.”

     He turned half way to look at you. “You asked me?”

     “I just wasn’t… “ he began to lie down with you. “What are you doing?” 

     “Getting some shuteye, what’s it look like?”

     Dean stretched one arm out and patted his chest with the other.

     “Bring it in,” he said. “You barely slept and I haven’t at all. We’ll deal with ‘it’ after some sleep.”

     “You don’t even know what it is,” you still couldn’t believe he was there. “And why didn’t you sleep?”

     He looked at you like the answer was obvious. “’Cause I drove all night to get to you. Will the thing you needed keep til later?”

     When you nodded, he patted his chest again.

     “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t leave me hanging,” he said.

     You took the comfort of his body and laid with your head on his shoulder. His arm went around you as you both got comfortable. Lying there with him felt good and right. Some of the tension you’d been holding melted away as he held you. He belonged there. 

     “Shoulda done this a long time ago,” Dean sounded sleepy. “Shoulda done a lot of things.”

     He cared about you, that fact had never been in question. He’d asked you not to go. His life had scared you and you thought you were doing the right thing by leaving his life, and him, behind.

     “I shouldn’t have run. You never hid anything from me…”

     “It was a lot to ask…” he held you tighter. “If after what you called me here for is done, and you want me to go, I will. No hard feelings.”

     You rolled onto your elbow and turned to look at him. His body was warm and firm under you. He would go if you wanted him to, but his eyes were pleading with you to let him stay.

     “Leaving you… was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. If we do this, we go all in. No more dancing around how we really feel about each other,” you said, “no matter what. Can you deal with me and all my bullshit?”

     “I’ll take your bullshit any day,” he said.

     Wanting to kiss him, you didn’t fight the urge. The kiss was soft and gentle at first. You were done being timid and Dean responded in turn. He rolled you onto your back, pulling your knee to his hip. The weight of his body felt good. His hand slid down from your knee to cup your ass. Everything about Dean felt good. You slipped your hands under his shirt and up his back. He pulled the t-shirt off completely, barely leaving contact with you.

     His hand moved to your waist and the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed at your sensitive skin making you elicit a small gasp.

     “Is this okay?” his voice thick with emotion.

     You wiggled and yanked at your shirt, desperate to be rid of it. Dean worked at his belt. When he saw you nearly naked, he left his belt to come back to you. His hands went to your ribs and up to cup your breasts. His large hands gently kneaded your soft flesh, fingers playing at your nipples.

     His mouth worked down your neck, marking you and making you gasp as he sucked hard and nipped at your nipple. Your body responded with intense arousal. You needed to see him… all of him and reached for his jeans.

     Knowing what you wanted, he stood to remove his remaining clothes and you slipped off your only garment. You only had a moment to appreciate the view before he moved between your legs.

     A few hours later, you woke to your unwanted alarm. You didn’t want to get out of bed. Not only did you not want to face the events of the day, you’d also woken up in Dean’s strong, comforting arms. You would give anything to just stay there with him. Finally, you’d acted on your feelings for each other. Dean was awake, but he only moved his arm to keep you close.

     “Gram died,” your voice sounded small, even to your own ears. 

     She called him to help her deal with losing her grandma. She called him. No way he was going to let her down.

     “I wasn’t expecting a funeral,” he kept his voice even.

     “You think I forgot? I’m sure you have one of your FBI suits in the trunk.”

     “I do,” he kissed her bare shoulder. “I… just… was she not…”

     She shook her head, “Not for years….”

     He’d missed a lot and hadn’t stayed in touch. Reluctantly, he let her go so they could get cleaned up and wake up. 

     (Y/N) struggled through the service, but he stayed close just in case. By the end of the day, she was barely holding on; her nerves raw.

     He whispered to her. “Let’s get outta here?”

     Most of the people had gone and they turned to get some mints from one of the side tables. 

     “Out of this building sounds good,” she popped a mint. “Out of this state sounds better.”

     “How does Kansas grab ya?” he asked.

     “I know a couple brothers from there. Think they would let me stay with them?”

     “They’d be crazy not to. I bet the older one has a thing for you.”

     “That seems lucky for me.”

     Two hours later, you were in the car with Dean and the very few items you couldn’t live without. The only thing holding you there had been Gram… You looked over at Dean. Catching the movement, he turned to you and smiled. You knew what you were getting into and accepted the consequences. Life was too short to not spend it with people you cared about.

[thegayagenda-forkids]

Magical

AO3 Link

Prequel

“Cyrus, you need to calm the hell down,” Buffy said. “I can’t be chasing you around to try and get this tie straight.”

“Buffy!”

“If there’s going to be only one thing about you that’s was going to be straight, it’s going to be this tie,” she said. “Sit the fuck down.”

“Am I not allowed to be nervous today?” He said sitting down.

“Nope,” Andi said. “Especially when I’m fixing this manufacturing flaw on your jacket pocket.”

“What do you mean I’m not allowed to be nervous today?! This is exactly the kind of day I should be nervous for!”

“You shouldn’t” Buffy said, fixing his tie and the clip. “Because Andi and I have gone over this ten thousand times with a fine toothed combed...the kind of comb you use on lice, even. You’re not allowed to be nervous.”

“Well how do you guys expect me to calm down without going into a panic attack first?” He said wringing his hands. “I was so busy with my second semester finals I barely paid attention to planning all this.”

“Which is why Buffy and I took over some of the aspects we specialize in,” Andi said, fixing the hole. “If you want to calm down,” she said. “Why not remember what exactly got us all here?” She inspected the jacket and had Cyrus’s stand to put the jacket on him and inspect it for any other flaws, and started fixing him up before working on the flowers that would be his boutonnières of sorts.

“That day?”

“Yes, the day from about a year ago?” Buffy said. “Our graduation trip.”

“Oh...that day,” Cyrus couldn’t help but smile like an idiot.

_______________

“Come on guys! We’re here at Disney World!” Cyrus was jumping up and down and T.J. was holding his hand. “How are you guys so tired?”

“You’re the only one who hasn’t driven yet on this road trip,” Buffy said, yawning slightly and getting off the monorail and to the gates of Magic Kingdom. “And I thought we should have done Epcot first.”

“We’re here for ten days!” Cyrus said. “Because T.J.’s cousin works here and got us ridiculously good discounts! And we’re even staying in pretty sweet rooms.”

“Rooms one could even say are...docious magocious?” T.J. said with a shit eating grin, and Jonah groaned.

“I haven’t said that since seventh grade!” He said. “But yeah, they’re pretty cool rooms. Though it’s weird being all alone.”

“Did you really want to be in a room with a couple?” Andi asked him.

“Nope, especially since one of those couples is both of my ex-girlfriends,” he said.

They flashed him a grin and Amber kissed Andi’s cheek.

“Awww, cute,” Marty said, yawning as they passed through the gate. “But I think before anything, we stop by the Starbucks? It’s called Main Street Bakery on the map.”

“How about Cyrus and I wait in line for the Mickey and Minnie meet and greet while you guys grab coffee for us all?” T.J. suggested. “That way we get a big wait time out of the way and we get that picture done first before we get all hot and sweaty from the Florida sun?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jonah said and they split up, T.J. and Cyrus heading to The Main Street Theater for the meet and greet and the rest going to The Bakery. Once they were in line, T.J. pulled out his phone and started texting.

“Wow, really? You’re addicted,” Cyrus teased.

“I’m telling the others our drink order,” He said. “Iced grande skim milk light ice white mocha with two pumps of vanilla and a cheese danish for you, right?” T.J. was texting the group the drink orders, that was true, but what Cyrus didn’t know at the time was that he was also texting them some very specific instructions.

“You know me too well Thel,” he said smiling. “And you’re getting the venti salted cream cold foam cold brew,” he said. “With a ham and cheese croissant.”

“You forgot to add the vanilla,” he teased.

“Oh no, the horrors,” Cyrus rolled his eyes. “I’m no longer a worthy boyfriend I should just go, leave, never see you again…”

“And stop being so melodramatic?” T.J. said putting his phone away and taking his hand.

“You like my drama. You said it makes life fun...even when you couldn’t be more stressed out, like you were during your “trial” in middle school?”

“I didn’t know the maximum punishment was lunch detention!”

“Yeah...good thing I served it with you.”

“When you discovered for the first time I could play piano?”

“Piano that you later taught me…”

“Attempted to teach you. You still misuse the hell out of the una corda pedal.”

“It’s the pedal that makes it sound pretty! I love that pedal.”

“You love a lot of things,” T.J. teased pulling Cyrus closer.

“You’re one of those things. Are you sure you’re going to complain?”

“Not in the slightest,” T.J. said, pulling him in and kissing him right when the rest of the group cleared their throats.

“Your drinks your royal dorkusess?” Buffy handed Cyrus the cold brew and T.J. the white mocha, which they took and immediately swapped.

“If you mess up the next thing to give up, I’ll know you’re not really my friend,” Cyrus said.

“Don’t worry, I know you keep kosher style,” she said, handing Cyrus the cheese danish.

“Good,” he said taking a bite. “At least you’re somewhat my friend.”

“God I wish you loved me as much as you love him,” Marty teased her.

“Maybe one day.”I officially stopped carrying him around though. That’s T.J.’s job now.” There was a twinkle in her eye as she said that. Nobody noticed Amber separating from the group and going to the Cast Member at the door and whispering something in her ear before she went back to the group. The Cast Member took out her radio and called over her coordiator.

Seconds later, a man in a blue shirt and a name tag that said Tom from Kissimmee, FL came up to them. “Hey guys, Mickey and Minnie noticed you guys in the crowd and wanted to give you a special tour of their theater.”

“Whoa…really?”Cyrus said, looking around excited.

“Yeah...sometimes Mickey and his representative Cast Members like to make a bit of a magical moment for our guests,” he said. He gestured to the girl at the door.

“You guys were really cute in line,” she justified.

“Come with me please.” Tom led the group through a different door and they went through a different little area before he opened the door to an empty room with Mickey and Minnie looking over and waving at them. Cyrus immediately went up to hug them and T.J. handed his phone to the cast member at next to the photographer. Both men at the front of the room were snapping pictures while T.J. and Cyrus hugged the mice. Mickey went to gesture for the rest of the group to join them when they held out a single finger, saying ‘wait a minute.’

“Guys!” Cyrus started but T.J. took his hand. “Hey, I just wanted to say...Mickey, Minnie, you two seem to make each other’s lives quite magical, right?” Both mice did giggling gestures and hugged each other. Cyrus looked around with wide eyes and looked at his friends who did their best to look surprised. Only half of them were convincing.

“Well, this man right here is Cyrus Goodman,” he said introducing him to Mickey and Minnie. “I think he’s made my life ridiculously magical. I used to be...well...not a good person. This guy helped me change...find acceptance within myself...stop being afraid...overall just made me a better person.”

“Teej….?” Cyrus’s voice rose several octaves.

“Which is why I want to keep improving with him forever.” He pulled out the box from his pocket and got down on one knee. The idiot group of friends started squealing with excitement and even the cast members were getting in on the happy squeals. Cyrus was blushing, half laughing and half crying, covering his face and looking away. Mickey and Minnie were jumping and stomping excitedly. “Cyrus...will you be my happily ever after?”

“You…” Cyrus was laughing and crying. “You’re such a jerk! You stole my moment!” Now everyone looked confused and Cyrus pulled out a box from his pocket. “I was going to do it in front of the Cinderella castle! And ask you if you’d make my dreams come true!”

Everyone lost their minds then as T.J. started laughing and crying as well and pulled Cyrus down for a kiss, both of them clumsily exchanging the rings. A cast member came back with two purple buttons and seeing the scene, took out a sharpie and wrote on one, “I said yes!” and on the other, “I also said yes!”

“We’re still getting the Cinderella castle pictures,” Cyrus said as everyone joined in for hugs and congratulations.

“You’re getting all the pictures you want,” the photographer said. “Your vacation pictures are on me.” The two mice raised their hands. “And on Mickey and Minnie.”

The two men put on their buttons and kissed each other again.

_________

“You guys had the perfect engagement,” Andi sighed dreamily. “I wonder if mine is going to look like that.”

“Well, all you have to do is read each other’s minds without realizing it,” he said, looking down at his light green tie. He chose the colors to match T.J.’s eyes, even coordinating the bridesmaids dresses to match him. “And then have me and Buffy as your “Best People” like I have you two.”

“Speaking of being best people,” Buffy said. “Your flowers are done, your jacket is done, and guess what?”

“What?”

“You look perfect,” she said smiling and kissed the top of his head in a big sister sort of way.

Cyrus was smiling wide and he could barely control his breathing. “How much longer?”

“Five minutes,” Andi said. “Your mom and stepmom are just outside the door, waiting for you.”

“Then…here we are…” he said and he hugged his best friends. “I love both of you.”

“We love you too,” Buffy said, hugging him back with Andi, resting their heads on his shoulder. “T.J. is going to love his first look.”

“I think I am too,” he said. “You two are supposed to go before me anyways.

___________

T.J. had gone down first with his mother, Bowie and Jonah playing them down the aisle. Then Andi and Amber walked down together, followed by Buffy and Marty. Amber and Marty separated and went to T.J.’s side while Amber and Buffy took their place on the other side, smiling as they were all under the chuppah, or more accurately T.J. was under the chuppah with the officiant who specialized in doing Jewish and Catholic mixed ceremonies and the others stood slightly to the side.

Jonah and Bowie changed the music when Cyrus started coming down, and T.J. smiled wider than he even thought possible, even wider than when Cyrus had pulled out his own ring in front of Mickey and Minnie. And if Cyrus’s cheeks were already hurting before the ceremony, they were going to rip apart out of the sheer glee of seeing the man he loved standing in front of him, in a black tux with a green tie and boutonnières, looking at him like there was nothing in the world other than the two of them.

At the front, Cyrus hugged his stepmother and then his mother before going to the front, taking T.J.’s hands and hoping that his yarmulke wasn’t crooked. T.J.’s certainly didn’t look crooked from where he was standing, but T.J. could be wearing his on his nose and Cyrus would still think it looked perfect.

T.J. looked at their hands and had to stop and remind himself that there were procedures he had to go through before he could take Cyrus and run away with him, no matter how tempted he was at that moment.

He barely paid attention to the Bible verses his family read out and the blessings Cyrus’s ridiculously huge family paid them, the entire time just staring at Cyrus’s eyes waiting for his moment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the officiant said. “And now it’s time to exchange vows. T.J.?”

He nodded and looked over at the officiant for a second before looking back at his fiancé. He loved that word for the past year, but he was about to upgrade. “Cyrus Goodman…” he took a breath and laughed nervously. “What can I say? It started with a chocolate chocolate chip muffin...and Buffy refusing to help me unless I helped you,” he chuckled and Buffy nodded approvingly. “I was...no mincing words, I was a total jerk back then. A bad person...you’re the first person who saw the good in me trying to come out, and you helped me by talking me through a learning disability, helping me work out my feelings on a swing, letting me teach you how to do a somersault...and you influenced me to do the right thing when I encountered horrible situations, like Reed and the gun back in middle school. You helped me come out not only to everyone here, but to myself, by just being yourself. My biggest fear since I met you was losing you. You were one of the best things in my life...and I can’t wait until this is over and you can officially be the best thing I can brag about to everyone I meet, because I really am ridiculously excited to show off my husband.”

Everyone clapped politely and Cyrus had to wipe away tears. “How am I gonna top that?” He said with a little laugh. “Can I say it?” T.J. looked around thankful they had a small ceremony and that he was mostly over his insecurities and nodded. “Thelonious Jagger Kippen...god I love that name…” Andi and Buffy quickly looked at each other with wide eyes. THAT’S WHAT IT STOOD FOR?!!! “Thelonious...You say I helped you be a good person, but you helped me become a braver version of myself. You helped me tackle each one of my silly little fears, like swinging higher, doing a somersault...dirt biking?! Whoever thought I would get on one of those things?!” He laughed a little. “And I can’t wait to see what else lies in store for us...how else you’ll make me braver as we keep going. I loved presenting you as my boyfriend, I was overjoyed this past year when I introduced you as my fiancé...and now that I can brag about my husband...you’re never gonna hear me shut up again.”

“And I hope I never do,” he said gently.

“Cyrus Goodman, do you take this man to love and to hold, to honor and cherish, in sickness and health, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Thelonious Jagger Kippen, do you take this man to love and to hold, to honor and cherish, in sickness and health, til death do you part?”

“I do.” He said. “I’d be dumb not to…”

“Then by the power vested in me by the government of the United States, I now pronounce you two married. You may now kiss the groom.” They rushed over and kissed while everyone cheered. A covered glass was placed at the ground and Cyrus stepped on it hard, shattering it while everyone cheered and congratulated them.

“Time to enjoy the reception, Mr. Goodman-Kippen,” Cyrus said.

“Time to enjoy the rest of our lives, Mr. Goodman-Kippen.” T.J. said smiling.

Of course, they weren’t the only ones smiling like idiots, and they gave Marty their blessing to steal the scene after their first dance to get down on one knee himself. They shared an anniversary after all, what’s one more thing?

And just in Disney tradition, they lived happily ever after…

_______

______

_____

Tag List: @kippens-a-goodman @theobligatedklutz @anarcoqueer1994 @honey-aes @luzawithoutu @dumb-binch-juice @tyrus-tide @tyrus-and-the-swings @losrgeekwhatevr

[kaaras-adaar-a]

tagged by: @seekerdivine​ and @dalishunter​ (thank you darlings, you’re amazing!) 

tagging: Loads of people have been tagged, so if you haven’t yet, consider yourself tagged by me! :) 

name:  Sam, Owl or Kmod :)  star sign:  Libra (Scorpio cusp)  height:  5′3″

put your itunes spotify on shuffle. what are the first 6 songs that popped up?

I Can’t Believe - Stone Sour 

Death (synthwave remix) - Starfaux & Aether Realm 

What Lies Below - Gus G 

The Ghost Door - Black Light Discipline 

Magic Dance - David Bowie 

Epic - Faith No More 

grab one book nearest to you and turn to page 23. what’s line 17?  

It took Ned time to comprehend her words, but when the 

A Game of Thrones - George R.R Martin 

ever had a poem or a song written about you?  Not that I know of, and if there was then I probably forgot about it lol.  when was the last time you played air guitar?  I play air drums more than I play air guitar, and I do pretty much every day when I’m driving X’D 

what’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

hate: Crying babies or children 

love: The sound of rain on tin roof 

do you believe in ghosts ?  Yeah, my house was haunted af when I was growing up 8|  how about aliens ?  The universe is massive, I definitely believe we’re not the only things alive out there. 

do you drive ? Yes if so, have you ever crashed ?  I’ve certainly done some stupid derp moments, but thankfully no *touch wood* 

what was the last book you read ?  A Clash of Kings - George R.R Martin what was the last movie you saw ?  Honestly, I can’t remember  what’s the worst injury you’ve ever had ?  Probably when I fell off a skateboard and smashed my face into gravel  do you have any obsessions right now ? I suppose the DARP and Rping Kaaras is still an obsession, lol. Or a hyperfixation? Right now, I am just tired. 

do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Eh, I’m just going to say yesish? Because I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t REMEMBER when people treat me like shit. Because I do. But does that mean I do anything about it? Hardly... It takes a VERY long time for me to actually put my foot down and someone’s got to do something pretty severe for me to dislike them and not give them a chance. Honestly, I’ve stuck around for people who treated me like utter shit for years, so if anything, I am too lenient. I also don’t like rocking the boat or causing drama because I don’t enjoy confrontation. The only time I will hold a grudge is if it’s someone exceptionally toxic and I no longer want anything to do with them. Is that a grudge? I don’t know... or is it simply just me looking after myself? I really don’t know if there’s meant to be a difference here? Idk... lol. 

in a relationship?  Got a ring on it. 

[kyloreyorgana]

STAR WARS 9 ! TROS SPOILERS !

In case this is not obvious enough, this post will contain SPOILERS for the last Star Wars movie, which I’m just now coming home from. These are my first thoughts. I have tried to tag as best I could so that people who mute the tags don’t see my post. Do not proceed f you don’t want to read any spoilers.

You have been warned. Long (and I mean LONG) post ahead.

First of all, I’m happy to be back y’all! Just with TLJ, I come from months (or has it been years already ?) of inactivity to jump right back into the fandom, as obsessed as I was back when I came home from TFA. Which is funny because at the time TFA came out, I had lost all interest in Star Wars and heard so many critics from people who’d seen it and said it was horrible and that Disney basically sold the franchise to the devil that I didn’t even want to see it, to keep the good memories closer to my heart. One night, one month after its theatrical release, I thought “aw fuck I might as well see it, at least for Carrie, Mark and Harrisson” so I went to the cheap theater that was near my home... I had zero expectation, and really I think it’s the reason why I loved the movie so much. I didn’t chose to ship Reylo, this ship whacked me like Harley Quinn’s oversized hammer with the Hades and Persephone aesthetics. When I came out, completely mesmerized with what I had just seen, I jumped on Tumblr as soon as I got home, and I ended up creating this blog just days later. I wanted more and more, fics, metas, fanarts, headcannons, theories, cracks, I could never get enough. For TLJ and TROS, I had lost most interest in the fanfics and the fandom (because as much as I love the movies and some people in the fandom, most of it can eat shit as far as I’m concerned). I heard so many critics of TROS already, I was afraid I was going to be disappointed. But I loved it. Only Star Wars can make me go from utterly uninterested to “Wow I can’t wait to see this new Star Wars in theater, what a time to be alive”, to a stage of total obsession that lasts for months. And that is the reason why I don’t give two shits about anyone disliking the movies. It’s sad you didn’t like them, but it made me feel the same way I felt right back when I was a child watching the original movies with my father. It feels like home. And that is the best thing I could ask for.

Like in TLJ, I cried as soon as I heard the first note of the opening. The last Skywalker story, the last time I ever see my Space Mommy on the big screen...

I know the Reylo community is about to be nuts. The whole movie, like TLJ before it, is basically a series of things we’ve already done in fics and theories. I am 100% positive I have read a fic where Rey and Ren try to hold back a ship with the Force and Rey ends up involuntarily shooting lightning. Whichever one of you did it is probably going to have a stroke in the theater. I nearly did.

And really, I wish I could see the look on the Antis’ faces when they see the movie. I’m sure it is a sight to behold. I wanted to scream “TAKE THAT, BITCHES” more than once. As in TLJ.

My biggest fear was what they would do with Leia. I knew Disney said they wouldn’t use CGI and chose to stick with the scenes Carrie had already shot, and I was afraid it wouldn’t honor Leia’s legacy. Well I... have mixed feelings. While the way they used Carrie’s scenes and made it look like she really is here is to be lauded, it sometimes feels like Leia had nothing interesting to say but they tried to put her in a dialogue anyway, because she needed to be seen doing (or rather, saying) something in the Resistance. And about her death... I still can’t put my finger on what exactly I didn’t like about it but I felt like something was missing. Watching the scene, at first I didn’t know if she was having a heart attack or if she stabbed herself or chose to give up her life because she somehow felt it was the moment, I’m still not sure just why she did what she did. I wish they put something more to motivate her decision and explain what exactly she does. I don’t know, a flashback of Leia holding baby Ben, a little more dialogue, something. Not just Leia suddenly getting up and going to bed whispering her son’s name. 

I knew I was going to be disappointed. Among all the celebrities’ deaths, Carrie’s is the one that affected me the most, and believe me I was a wreck when Bowie passed. I miss her, I think about her every single day. And Leia deserved more, much more. When I saw TFA, part of the reason why I loved the movie was that, even though it pained my heart that Han and Leia’s son turned out this way, I thought they would make it right. I spent hours imagining a scene in the 9th movie where Ren would defeat Rey (incapacitate her the Skywalker style cutting her hand or something) and approach to give the killing blow, and Leia would enter the scene, pick up Rey’s lightsaber, look her son dead in the eye and say “Over my dead body, son”. Because Leia would never give up without a fight, even with her son. And she would get her son back, and her story arc would have been completed. I would have paid good money to see this. 

Episode 9 was supposed to be Leia’s movie, just like ep. 7 was Han’s and ep. 8 was Luke’s. When Carrie died, I knew it would be compromised and it broke my heart, because Leia deserved better. She lost everything. Her parents, her planet, her father, her husband, her son, her brother, the Rebellion, the Resistance, everything. She fought all the way, all her life even faced with the worst odds she never gave up hope, she inspired hundreds of people to keep fighting for what is right, and she would never have a satisfactory ending. What a fucking heartbreak. She didn’t even get to see Lando. Leia deserved more. Every little girl in this world who grew up with her as a role model deserved more. But c’est la vie, as we say in French... My only solace is that I know fanfics and fanarts are going to make me feel a little better about it.

Of course I cried every time I saw her on screen, and especially when they honored her body, as we all honored Carrie when she passed away. This was one of the many fanservice moments, and surely the one I liked the most, although there was some concurrence (more to it later).

Another thing I didn’t like is what they did to Poe’s character. Many people disliked TLJ because of it, which they attributed to a political agenda of hate on men. This is so ridiculous and has already been debated enough that I won’t get into it. I did like the evolution of his character in TLJ, because for me it was an interesting character development as well as a good message: wartime is not only about barging in fights head first, shoot first think later, as is, let’s be honest, everything Anakin ever does. At one point, the narrative of the reckless hero who saves the day when a situation seems impossible and everyone begs him not to do it gets old. Sometimes in war, you have to think ahead, to plot, and yes, listen to what your allies have to say. And it actually was a good critic of toxic masculinity. Could the conflict between Poe and Holdo have been avoided with minimally sane conversation ? YES. But the message was here (as were Holdo’s hair and dress and WOW gurl) and I thought that was it, and Poe would evolve into a wiser person.

But this Poe is, at least in the first half of the movie, not very likable. Hear me, I never really liked Han Solo (never been into macho men) but I really loved Poe in TFA because he was genuinely nice and brave. Here, he’s bitter and annoying. I told myself that he was jealous of Rey because he heard of Finn’s crush on her and he wanted to keep Finn all for himself, which I know is just a crack headcannon, but hey, anything to make it better I guess.

Of course, I’ll never forgive Disney for not making FinnPoe a thing, when even Oscar Isaac ships them hard. And trying to make Poe flirt with the other girl (whose name I even forgot and whose face we didn’t even see, now tell me again how Star Wars has been corrupted by feminists... sigh)  Speaking of, it is me or did two women kiss at the end ? 

I liked the new droid, it reminded me of my puppy. But at the end, it was just another fanservice moment, it didn’t really do anything useful onscreen apart from being cute and funny.

When Rey was finally revealed to be a Palpatine as I hoped, I giggled like a wee girl. Watching TFA, I begged the old gods and the new that they wouldn’t make her another Skywalker, because it would’ve spoiled the Star Wars spirit for me. The whole franchise, in my opinion, is a story about fighting for what you believe is right, no matter who you or your parents are or where you come from. Even though Luke and Leia’s ended up being Vader’s children, they weren’t the only meaningful characters. Anakin was basically a Space Jesus and went from a total nobody to the Chosen One. I didn’t want Rey to be a Skywalker because it would mean that your importance would only ever lay in your bloodline, and that is depressing and totally against the spirit of the Rebellion/Resistance: no matter who you are, you can fight for what is right. For this reason, I wished for Rey to be either a real nobody or Palpatine’s granddaughter, which is also why I liked the fact that Han and Leia’s son turned out bad, even though it made me sad for them (Leia didn’t deserve this). No matter your bloodline, you can always make things right, or fuck up badly if you let yourself be taken away. And, of course, the reveal that Rey and Kylo Ren are two sides of the same coin (aka one of the many times where I picture us Reylos screaming CALLED IT in our seats) was exactly what I hoped for, a beautiful balance. I didn’t share Palpatine’s implication that a Palpatine and a Skywalker are meant to work together, though. That is not how I choose to interpret this duality. That is not what they end up doing, anyway.

Speaking of that old pal Patine, seeing the trailers I feared I would feel nauseated that they chose to reanimate the Big Old Villain, just like they reanimated the Even Bigger Death Star in TFA (how lazy can you be ?). But I enjoyed it. What saved it was Palpatine’s will to be killed by Rey to perpetuate the Sith rite of passage. I don’t even care if it’s cannon or not. I was afraid they would recreate Vader’s dilemma in ROTJ with Rey, but I liked the choices she made. And the throne scene worked for me. Like the rest of the movie it was flawed, for instance we don’t even get an explanation on how he survived. Just like we don’t even get what Finn wanted to tell Rey, even though it was emphasized several times. Was it a love declaration ? What happened to the rushed romance with Rose in TLJ ? (What happened to Rose, actually). While we’re at it, why did Palpatine want Ren to kill Rey ? So many questions. So many flaws.

And, of course I cannot comment this film without mentioning my sweet star-crossed lovers, Rey and Ben. First, I’m really eager to see your reactions. We did it, Reylos! Years of hate and slander and we were right all along. Let’s rejoice.

I like Rey’s evolution. For the moment, I don’t feel like I have too much to say about it (which is fine because this post is way too long already). I like the way she handles her emotions, I like her choices and her character evolution. 

And Ben. Oh, sweet Ben. Although I think the part where he gets his old mask fixed wasn’t necessary, I kinda like what they did with him as well. I must say though that I liked his hair in TFA better.  Oh boy, I loved Kylo Ren but I absolutely adore Ben Solo. And I think the way the movie depicts him even surpasses some fics. The moment when Rey gives him the lightsaber and he gets up and does the Han shrug  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I almost lost my mind. This ties with the hommage to Leia’s body as my favorite fanservice moment.

And their relationship... Look, I know I wet my pants really enjoyed myself in TLJ when they held hands, but that scene felt rushed even for me who ships them with the force of a thousand suns. Like many things in TLJ (and, as I said, also in TROS) it felt like things I had already seen in fanfics, but in the fics I enjoyed the most Rey had tried to kill him at least 5 mores times before even agreeing to have a one-on-one conversation with him. Their romance in TLJ felt like it was hormone-driven, but I get Johnson couldn’t really do a slow burn in 2 hours. When Leia died and they both felt it in the Force, I could feel that Rey wanted to touch him, to confort him, to grieve with him. I’m glad she didn’t. It wasn’t time. And I really like that she told him she wanted to hold Ben’s hand, not his. And Ben, the Dork Knight, finally realized that if he wanted The Girl, he shouldn’t, you know, threaten her and chase her but get back to the Light Side like she begged him multiple times. Because he really isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, this is apparently what makes him choose to tip over. That or the fact she saved his life. I was still frustrated by Leia’s death so I don’t know if I’m not entirely convinced because it happened just after, I’d have to watch it again. I liked Han’s moment, though.

And in my opinion, Rey and Ren’s fight on the wreck of the Death Star is as good as Anakin and Obi-Wan’s. My Reylo heart will always have a special place for their couple fight in TLJ (aka the best non-sex sex scene in cinema, don’t @ me) but I also liked this fight in light of their relation. Surprisingly, it reminded me more of their fight at the end of TFA, when we see Ren holding his blows and Rey barging in. I thought it was endearing.

The end. Oh my god, the end. I can’t wait to see the first gifs and I really really can’t wait for the HD gifs, because oh boy, I now only live for Ben Solo’s smile. That’s it, I found my will to live, my depression is cured. And the way he handles Rey’s body with the utmost care (while Finn apparently watches it and does or says nothing). And that kiss... And the SMILE. And the KISS. 

Oh, dear gods. Oh dear.

I can’t wait for the first fics in which Ben doesn’t die and they live happily ever after on Tatooine or Naboo or wherever they damn want. Or the fics where he is indeed dead and they still share a beautiful relationship (if Force Ghost Luke could get his X-Wing out of the water, I’m eager to imagine what Ben would do with his Force dick, tongue and fingers. Forgive me, it’s getting late and I’m still flustered thinking of their kiss)

And the fact that she declares herself a Skywalker ? I know a lot of people are disappointed in this, but apart from the fact that she completely deserves the title in my opinion when she inherited the will of both Luke and Leia, which is reason enough, she is absolutely married to Ben and deserves her place in that family. Also, it’s again a beautiful way to remind you that bloodlines don’t matter as much as what we choose to do with our lives. And while I’m glad they showed Leia’s Force ghost (I would’ve been really mad if they didn’t) I’m super frustrated they didn’t show Ben’s. What am I to believe, that he gave his life for her, became one with the Force and vanished into litteral nothingness for him to never be seen again ? Like hell I don’t. Again, counting on the fics and arts to right this wrong.

The movie sure has its flaws, and I still have many unanswered questions, like what the fuck is the badge Maz gives Chewie, or how Rey does her lightsaber staff at the end, and I wish they explained some things better. I wasn’t sure if the saber Leia wanted Rey to have was hers or her mother’s. Most of those questions will be answered by bigger geeks than me in this fandom, so I really can’t wait to read from y’all.

I know a whole lot of people are going to hate the movie. The antis, the gatekeeping trve fans (already I’ve seen people say that those who enjoyed the movies are not Real Star Wars Fans and welp, we’re going to see a lot of shit). The manbabies who genuinely believe in a feminist takeover and see equality as a direct threat. I’m specifically happy they will be disappointed while I got the privilege of enjoying Star Wars as much as I did. It’s not my fault, or Disney’s fault even, that they turned out to be on the Empire’s side. And the day has not come when I defend a megacorporation. 

Leia was the first SJW. The Resistance lives on. People will always fight against evil, like it or not. I know the world is a shitty place and we don’t have much hope nowadays for things to get better, and Star Wars has always motivated me to keep going and stick to my values and my convictions. I felt chills several times in the movie, like at the end where everyone comes to fight, and now I’m more willing to keep fighting than ever. For Leia.

Godspeed, Rebels! 

[iamnotbrianmay]

The A Experience

Here goes chapter 7, ladios. 

okay so, since some people are having trouble with the tag list im putting it first: @seven-seas-of-why, @twotitsjohndeacon, @dancindeaky, @gee-uloser, @mozzarellamazzello, @mozzie-s, @deracine-dogma-deux, @shutupanddontjudge, @warping-reality, @demianhill

and now on to the chapter! I’m sorry it’s so dialogue heavy! But the plot is moving forward now! 

“Okay,” Brian said plopping down on the seat and giving Roger the  hot chocolate he had ordered, “We have twenty days from now until the Christmas dinner and we have to make our break up believable. Let’s get planning.”

He typed in the password for his laptop and opened a word document. Brian barely noticed that Roger had not answered until the screen of his computer was pushed down slightly, “Mate, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

Roger rolled his eyes and started taking off his gloves, “I can’t believe you are going to plan everything.”

Brian huffed in annoyance, “Well, Rog, if I don’t we might end up forgetting or messing things up. Or do you want me to remind you of the Nutella incident?”

Roger visibly shivered, and Brian wasn’t kin on remembering their slip earlier that week, their near disaster that would have inevitably ended with them looking like utter buffoons. Brian cracked his neck, trying to lessen his embarrassment. Yes, that was definitely a story for another time when the pressure of nailing this thing wasn’t upon them.  

“Okay, fine, have it your way, nerd.” Roger said as he took out his cigarette, Brian glared at him for taking the ugly thing out in the middle of a crowded restaurant with children all around them.

“Any ideas with how to start?”

Roger shrugged, “Maybe we could just get you drunk and leave you like that on their doorstep.”

Brian made a face, “It’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“Are you kidding me?” Roger said, “It’s terrible, I don’t know what kind of drunk you are! What if you snitch on us?”

“I won’t snitch,” Brian said indignantly, “but I will write that idea down because it’s not stupid.”

“Fine,” Roger scoffed, “what do you have in mind?”

Brian shrugged, “Maybe I could cheat on you or something.”

“No,” Roger said, “they won’t buy that. Make me cheat on you.”

“No,” Brian replied, “I won’t do that to you.”

Roger let out an irritated sigh, “Why are you making it so difficult to break up?”

“Because,” Brian tried to explain, but his mind was blank for a few seconds, “It should be believable!”

“And cheating isn’t a good excuse to break up?”

“Not if it hurts you!”

Roger gave a strangled scream, “God your so infuriatingly polite.”

“I try to be!”

Silence settled between both of them, they looked around, trying not to meet each other’s eyes as they calmed down. Roger took a drag from his cigarette and used his shirt to cover up the smoke he blew. Brian eyed him curiously, wondering if it was rude to ask for a drag. He had always been curious about the cigarettes. Roger caught him staring.

“Bad habit,” Roger admitted, “I know, even more so for a person who sings, but everything is better than the real ones.”

“You used to smoke a lot?”

Rogger nodded and took another drag, “Started out pretty young. Now that I think about it it’s embarrassing.”

“You are trying to fix it,” Brian offered, “that’s what matters.”

“I guess it is,” Roger replied.

There was another awkward silence in which the nearly blank word document starred back at Brian in accusation. He knew he should have just written ‘Roger cheating’ as an option, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not because he thought it would bother the other man, or because he thought it wouldn’t be a good excuse, but because he couldn’t bring himself to fill that page with tangible, and very valid, excuses to break up with Roger.

In the end Roger broke the silence, he sighed heavily and closed the laptop once again, “We are doing this wrong, Brian.”

The older man frowned, “We are?”

Roger nodded, “We shouldn’t be sitting in a cafe arguing about how we are going to break up before we even hang out properly.”

“Rog, that makes no sense.”

“Of course it does,” the blond argued, “we can’t properly stage a break up if we don’t even know each other.”

“Why not?”

Roger took a sip from his chocolate, mulling over his options before saying something under his breath. Brian couldn’t catch it, but before he could ask what Roger had said, the blond spoke up, “What if I want to know you before we break up?”

Brian froze for a second, looking at Roger with wide eyes. Every moment without an answer Roger’s eyes started to fill with regret. Brian could see it, the way his sudden bravado started to dim, giving way to uncertainty. Roger started to get up, gathering his gloves and warm cup of chocolate, but Brian was faster. He grabbed Roger’s wrist, which looked ridiculously thin compared to the thick wool sweater he was wearing. He stared at the younger man for a few seconds, admiring how his long hair framed his face and his blue eyes looked at Brian expectantly. He looked like an angel dressed in the white sweater, Brian notes, and finally snapped out of his haze.

“What do you have in mind, Rog?”

The younger man smiles tentatively and Brian feels his butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

————

“Farrokh Bulsara, I can’t believe you actually wore every single one of my decent shirts and then forgot to wash them!”

“Don’t ‘Farrokh Bulsara’ me, darling,” Freddie snapped back, “and, mind you, it’s not my fault the power was out and we couldn’t do laundry!”  

“That was five days ago Freddie!”

Brian felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned around, John was holding a white button up shirt in his hand, “Take this, you’ll look nice.”

“That’s my special shirt, John!”

The younger man glared at his boyfriend, “I know.”

Brian grabbed the shirt, putting it on while glaring at Freddie, and then rolled the sleeves up when he realised that they looked ridiculously small on his long arms. He tucked the shirt into his pants and went into the bathroom too look at himself in the mirror.

He looked-- decent.

White shirt and shoes, black pants, curly hair recently washed and fluffed by the three hundred chemicals that Freddie had insisted on putting on his hair. He even had the thick, black, leather wristbands that covered his pale wrists.

Yes, he actually didn’t look bad at all.

He stepped out and jokingly obliged to Freddie’s request of showing off his outfit. The three men laughed when he struck a ridiculous pose, and then grew quiet once Brian’s phone dinged. He picked it up nervously, and saw that Roger had sent him the location of the club he had chosen for their night out.

“It’s not that far away,” Freddie noted. “We could walk with you if you want too.”

Yes, please, do so, Brian wanted to scream, I have never been this nervous in my entire life.

But he knew that he shouldn’t show them his real feelings, according to their knowledge this was far from Brian’s first date with Roger. He wanted to hit himself in the face, but instead just smiled and shook his head.

“I’m fine, guys,” He hugged John, and then turned to Freddie, “thank you for the shirt.”

Freddie laughed, “You look good, darling.”

The older man kissed Brian’s cheek, before wishing him a good night, and then Brian was off. He bundled himself inside his thick winter coat and walked over to the promised club. He was there in less than fifteen minutes, and blushed when he was that Roger had been waiting for him outside the place, smoking an electronic cigarette.

He smiled once he saw Brian approaching and stuffed the cigarette into his pocket, “You ready?”  

Brian nodded, and Roger turned towards the man at the door, he gave him a small smile and greeted him as he let them pass.

Inside the music was loud enough for Brian and Roger not to hear anything, the lights were dim, the reflectors all around the room were only there for show and colouring. Otherwise, the room was completely black. Brian could see people dancing and milling around, a set of sofas to the side of the club in which at least five couples were snogging their faces off, and a bar with a long line. The four bartenders were struggling to keep up with the rate at which people were ordering their drinks and Brian felt a little bad as Roger grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the bar.

They stayed at the side, waiting for one of the bartenders to notice them. Talking about nothing and everything, and wondering if there was somewhere they could leave their jackets for the night.

“Roger,” one of the people said, “long time no see.”

Roger smiled and turned towards the bartender, a lanky man, almost as tall as Roger, with mismatched eyes and a thin and crooked nose, “Bowie! I didn’t know you would be working tonight!”

The other man, Bowie, raised his eyebrows, “Neither did I, but the water bill came in a little too high this month.”

Roger grimaced, “Tough luck.”

The other man shrugged, “Who’s your friend here?”

Roger turned towards Brian and the guitarist extended his hand, “Brian May.”

Bowie gave him a crooked smile and shook his hand, “David Bowie, please to meet you.”

There was a scream from one of the people working behind the bar and David grimaced, “I have to go, but I’ll get your drinks once I’m free.”

He turned and started walking towards the multitude of people before stopping for a second, “Nearly forgot, Taylor. Your table is number five.”

“Thanks mate!” Roger called back and turned towards Brian. “Let’s go.”

Brian followed Roger pressing up against the younger man’s back to talk to him, “You come here often?”

Roger nodded, “I’m a VIP here.”

They got near a table marked with a sign that read ‘previous reservation’ and Roger threw his things down on the booth. His thick coat landed on the wooden table then slid down to the ground. Brian chuckled and placed his things carefully, sliding into one side of the booth.

Roger sat down opposite of him, and smiled at Brian, “Nice club, eh?”

Brian couldn’t know, he hadn’t been to many in his years, “Yeah, it’s cool.”

Roger scrunched up his nose, “Aw man, I completely forgot to ask you what you drank. I hope you don’t mind vodka.”

Again, Brian didn’t know what he would like cause he didn’t drink much except for the odd bear that Freddie coaxed him into trying. He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, “As long as it’s good.”

Roger eyed him with interest, “You aren’t much of a drinker, are you?”

Brian blushed, “That obvious?”

Roger chuckled, “Don’t worry, Freddie made me promise to take care of you.”

He rolled his eyes at the comment, then studied Roger. His long blond hair looked freshly washed, a too big button up shirt like the one Brian was wearing was thrown over black track pants. He looked beautiful, there was no other word to describe it.

“So, the band.”

Roger leaned forward, “We have rehearsal tomorrow, don’t we?”

Brian nodded, “I’m actually looking forward to hearing you play.”

“You might regret that,” Roger said teasingly, “I’ll make them forget you once they hear me drum.”

Brian raised his eyebrows, “Oh, is that so?”

“Yep,” Roger nodded, “you’re good, but you are no Roger Taylor.”

“What you saw me play was nothing,” Brian boasted, “I could play that set with my eyes closed.”

Soon their drinks arrived, and Brian and Roger kept talking. They drank, Roger more liberally than Brian, and they laughed. The guitarist could feel the warmth of alcohol spreading across his body and slurring his words once they got to the fourth glass of what Roger had called a November cocktail.

By the fifth November Roger dragged Brian into the dance floor. He was unsteady on his feet, which even without the alcohol weren’t very coordinated. Roger guided him, placing a hand on his waist and another one on his upper arm. Brian imitated him, and let the younger man guide them across the dance floor.

He let the beat of the music flow into his brain, taking in the one thing which made him feel completely at ease, even if the music wasn’t the usual Nirvana or Jimi Hendrix that blasted through their apartment on the saturday mornings when they have cleaning duty. The beat was constant, the words in a language he couldn’t quite understand, maybe because of the alcohol in his system, maybe because it wasn’t english at all.

It was only after an hour with Roger dancing and talking in the middle of the club, that they finally grew tired. His limbs felt heavy, his eyes were drooping, and Roger was the one that helped him get to the table and put on his coat. They were still talking, giggling every time one of them said or did something stupid. They walked out fifteen minutes later, arm in arm, and heading towards Brian’s flat for the second time that week.

Snow was falling all around them, but for some reason Brian didn’t feel the cold. He could just feel the smaller man pressed to his side, and the wobbly the ground seemed to be. Once they got to the door of the complex Brian looked down at the blond. His cheeks were flushed, his nose looked red from the cold, and his blue eyes were wide and unfocused.

Brian felt himself sober up once he remembered that the younger man still had eleven blocks from their current standing point to his apartment. Brian frowned, “Stay the night, Rog. It’s way too cold for you to walk back to your house.”

The younger man’s lips parted and a cloud of mist left them, making Brian’s point clearer.

“You can come with us to the rehearsal,” Brian offered, “and taste John’s pancakes.”

Roger smiled, and nodded. They walked up the stairs, Roger making sure that Brian didn’t tumble down the stairs and trying to convince himself that that was the exact reason why he had agreed to come up to the apartment once again.

Once they got there all the lights were turned on, and there was soft sound coming from the living room. Brian put a finger to his lips and tried to take off his shoes as quietly as possible and hang his coat on the rack. Roger followed, making sure that the inebriated Brian didn’t fall back and crack his skull.

They stumbled into Brian’s bedroom, careful not to make any noise, and wake up John and Freddie. Their efforts were useless however, since the television suddenly shut off and they heard Freddie’s voice from the living room, “Brian, dear, are you home?”

Brian turned towards Roger, motioning once again for him to stay quiet even though Roger knew that Freddie probably wouldn’t mind Roger being there with Brian, “Um, yeah. Just got here.”

Brian cringed at his slurred words and Roger giggled, stepping into the room and sitting on the bed. He heard soft steps and then Freddie saying, “I know it’s late but I just wanted to know how-- oh dear, are you drunk?”

At that Roger couldn’t keep his giggles in, and Brian soon followed. With their secret now uncovered brian opened the door completely and let Freddie see the younger man. He didn’t look pissed, but his expression was not amused either, “I thought I told you to take care of him.”

“He did,” Brian defended Roger, “he helped me get here.”

“We had fun.” Roger added, “if you wanted to know how tonight went.”

At that Freddie smiled and walked over to the kitchen to get two glasses of water. Meanwhile Roger and Brian got ready for bed, Roger found himself in the same oversized pajamas he had been using a few days prior and Brian smiled when he saw him.  

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Freddie walked in, placing both glasses on the bedside table and smiling at the boys, “You are going to need that tomorrow.”

“I know,” Roger answered, “sorry for not keeping my promise.”

Freddie looked at Brian, who was clumsily climbing into bed, and smiled, “It’s fine. You had fun.”

“We did.”

Freddie placed a kiss on top of Roger’s head, “See you tomorrow, dear.”

“G’night, Freddie.”

He clambered into bed beside Brian and the older man watched with doe eyes as the blond settled down on the matters and covered himself with the covers. He waited until Roger was settled down to turn the light off, and laid back down, trying to see Roger in the darkness.

He couldn’t see much, but he could just make out Roger’s outline, and the soft smell of alcohol and electric cigarette smoke that seemed to cling to Roger since they had left the club.

“You were right,” Brian whispered.

“About what?”

“We were doing it wrong.”

There was a soft silence in which Brian could feel Roger press his cold feet to Brian’s legs, and hear the younger man’s soft breathing and rustling around.  

“Thank you for tonight, Roggie.”

“You’re welcome, boyfriend.”

Brian laughed, but something about Roger’s comment left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Okay, tell me what you though about his chapter! And know that the next chapter will mark the beggining of the one of the major conflict in the fic!

[northofsomewhererp]

Your Name, Age (17+), & Timezone: Meg, too old, EDT

Zephyrine Oriana Bowie turned 17 years old on March 14th. She’s a junior at Greensville High School. Her faceclaim is Billie Eilish.

Bio:

As a lover of all things strange, you could guess that Zephyrine Bowie tends to stand out in a crowd. From her peculiar fashion sense down to her creepy obsession with the dead, she was never one to fit in.

When Mélissandre Thibert, her biological mother, passed away due to some post-birth complications, no one really knew what to do with the little girl. Her father was a one night stand: he’d never even pretended that he’d be a part of that child’s life, and Mélissandre didn’t expect him to be, either. Her life had been on a steady decline: she lost her job, was battling addiction and had just gotten dumped by whom she thought to be the love of her life. In some ways, Zephyrine was her saving grace, her one reason to try and get better. And for a while, it worked. But ultimately, she was in too poor a condition previously to be salvaged by 9 months of self-care.

When it all came down to it, the only person who stepped up to the task and wanted that child was Makani Bowie. He’d been a pen-pal of Mélissandre’s for nearly 10 years now, and although they hadn’t met more than 5 times, they made sure to talk every day and video chat weekly. It was nothing if not platonic, but nonetheless he was all she had left. With him residing in America and little Zephyrine being in France, it wasn’t an easy task. But after a long, strenuous process, he was finally able to adopt the little girl and bring her back to his home, in Greensville. Makani’s mother often referred to her as a demon, recalled seeing something ‘wicked’ in the little girl’s eyes the moment she was first brought into the family. Eff grew up alone with Makani and his son, Lazarus. Even without a mother, she never lacked anything: she’s forever grateful for that.

In elementary school, Bowie started to display an explosive character. She didn’t have a good relationship with her classmates. From the get-go, she was an easy target for kids to pick on. It didn’t help that at any given chances, Zephyrine would go on about how she believed in fairies, mystical creatures and witchcraft. But in all honesty, she couldn’t give a flying fuck about what others thought of her, she liked to embrace who she was and her beliefs. What were these kids to her anyway but mere classmates? When they started to spread vile rumors about her and her family, she started to lash out at them. Especially at girls. She’d decapitate their dolls and pick up fights. Pull, scratch and bite. During this time, she often found herself in the principal’s or the counselor’s office, and this carried on into her high school career. Needless to say she didn’t have many friends, still doesn’t. But she likes it that way. Now a junior in high school, it seems as if most of the kids she went to elementary with forgot about her. In fact, it was during the summer before her freshman year that her appearance took a drastic turn and she’s basically unrecognizable anymore. Zephyrine started getting inked and dyed her hair all sorts of fantasy colors. Her peculiar sense of fashion draws attention, but the good one this time. Eff is usually quiet, for the simple reason that she prefers discussing with the dead rather than the living. Yet she’s not afraid to speak her mind. It comes pouring out of her without any effort. In that sense, she’s incredibly blunt and lacks a filter. Some have called her rude, but she doesn’t care. Regardless, Bowie is a very smart and articulate young lady. What most people admire about her is obviously her open-mindedness. She’s also a big fan of DIY projects and any sort of crafts, which makes her somewhat resourceful. She’s someone that although you may need some time getting in their good books, once you’re in her circle you can always count on her.

Activity (1-10): 5

Have you read the rules?: removed

In the event that you leave, can we keep your biography for future use? *grabs zephyrine* no she my baby

Any comments/questions?: no thank u ♥

Sample( 2+ paragraphs):

Night had always been Zephyrine’s favorite time of day for as long as she could remember. The starry sky, chilly breeze and complete silence were only a few things she enjoyed. But tonight, she found herself in a totally opposite setting.

When her brother, Lazarus, asked her to tag along to a gathering on the beach, Zephyrine didn’t think twice about it. Their Meemaw was coming over, and no opportunity to be as far away from the woman as possible were taken for granted. What she hadn’t taken into consideration when blindly accepting was the amount of people that would actually attend, or how Laz was bound to dump her to go french some random person at some point in the night.

Zephyrine’s currently sitting in front of the bonfire, throwing anything she can find into the flame and watching it burn. She hasn’t spoken to a single soul, and Lazarus, of course, is nowhere in sight. It wouldn’t be as bad if the bonfire wasn’t surrounded by couples practically fucking right then and there. She hadn’t expected this big a turnout, and the crowd was starting to make her feel antsy. Throwing one last empty can of beer into the fire, Bowie decides to get up and head towards the shore.

The further away she gets from the crowd, the lighter her steps feel. It’s not that she was afraid of people, not at all. She was just very picky with people she allowed close to her. Eff held everyone to a higher standard due to past hurt, which made getting close to her very difficult. And Lazarus’ friends? They definitely weren’t her type. Funny how her brother was the person she got along with best, but his choice in friends was so poor. When she reaches the shoreline, Zephyrine crouches down and drags her finger against the damp sand. She isn’t drawing anything in particular, just letting her hands wander around and she finds herself way more entertained than she’d been the entire night. That is, before someone pulls her out from her bubble.

“Boo!” Lazarus startles his sister, bursting into laughs when she topples over face first into an incoming wave. Now drenched in ice cold water, Eff wipes a hand down her face.

“You motherfucker!” she exclaims, springing up into action and staring at him with wide eyes. She tries so hard to keep her angry act, but a smile can’t help to pull at the corner of her lips. This just amuses Laz further.

“I didn’t think you were so fucking clumsy, chill out Eff”, he rolls his eyes, and that earns him a hard shove from his sister. He stumbles but his feet remain planted into the ground. “Nice try, sissy.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m gonna catch a cold because of your dumb ass”, Bowie sighs. She grabs a handful of her hair and twists it so drain the water out. A slight rustling sound catches her attention and when she looks up, Lazarus is draping his jacket over her shoulders.

“Here. Are you having fun? Except the possible hypothermia, I mean”, he asks with a sheepish smile. He picks up a beer bottle, presumably his, and takes a long swig as he awaits her answer.

“Are you seriously asking me this, Laz?” Zephyrine retorts. “I thought you knew me better than that, wow”, she puts a hand over her heart, dramatizing the situation and that manages to make her brother chuckle.

“I know you’re dying on the inside, sue me for being hopeful. Y’wanna go home, then?”

“Your unbuttoned shirt and raw lips tell me you don’t”, she crosses her arms over her chest, an eyebrow quirking up as she eyes him from head to toe.

“Ah, shut the fuck up. It’s a party, what did you expect?” Lazarus counterattacks, visibly taken aback by the comment, flustered even.

“For you not to dip your dick in the first chick you see, maybe?”

“To be fair, I dipped it.. but in her mou-”

“Ah ah! Stop talking, TMI, Laz… TMI!” the girl interrupts him, nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Fine, okay. Still doesn’t answer my question. You wanna go?” Zephyrine bites her lip, avoiding his gaze as she shrugs. “Zephyrine…” he warns, and that makes her snap her head up to finally look at him.

“…yeah, this sucks. And I’m cold. I just know you’re having fun and I don’t wanna force you to leave. But if Dad picks me up, then Meemaw’s gonna-”

“Zephyrine, calm down, it’s okay. This is getting boring, anyway. We ran out of beer, I’m good with leaving”, he reassures her, stepping closer and pulling her into a hug. He sways them from side to side, purposefully making them tip over as if to almost fall, but he catches them back every single time. They both laugh in unison, and that’s the first real laugh Effy let out tonight. Lazarus moves back only enough to look at her. “Even if I didn’t wanna leave, I’d leave for you”, he presses a soft kiss to her forehead, but she pushes him away.

“Gross, you’re drunk”, she states as she wipes away the spot on her forehead he’d kissed.

“Maybe I am, so what?”

“Don’t kiss me, period. Especially not when you ate pussy, you reek of it!” That comment makes Lazarus burst into giggles, almost falling over his sister. “God, you’re done, let’s go”, she wraps an arm around his waist and starts walking away.

A comfortable silence settles between them, and that’s something she always appreciated from her brother. There wasn’t a need for small talk, they could just revel in each other’s presence without a word spoken. And so, the entire walk home was spent without a word being exchanged. Zephyrine was cold, slightly buzzed and tired, but as they strolled through Greensville together, she couldn’t help but think maybe this night wasn’t so bad after all.

[pkmntrainergreyze]

The Emo School (Chapter 1)

Previous Next

Chapter 1: An Emo Box of Misery with Pastel Pink Ecstasy

I used to think anyone doing anything weird was weird. Now I know that it is the people that call others weird that are weird.

-Paul McCartney

09/12/01

Finishing up my plate, well, I couldn’t lie about a few scraps of mixed vegetables on it, the boys decided it’ll be fun to move out of the uncomfortable chairs. I couldn’t escape or not recoil from Ryan’s glares. I know what’s up with him, and the dirty look he’s giving is giving me the creeps. He makes me shiver down my spine and I swear one glare from this long legged man makes me want to stop everything I do- heck, if he was some soldier I’d be doing push-ups right now. (oh hallelujah he isn’t)

“Geez, I just couldn’t finish eating carrots right now Ryro. Is that so big of a problem?” He scoffed before lending me his hoodie. As weird as it sounds I need his dang cologne, it smells pretty darn good, but as much as possible I wouldn’t smell the hoodie in front of him and would rather wear it since it’s d*mn cold for me recently. He seemed to crunch the paper bag once he stared at the floor, as if some cockroach crawled nearby under the shade of the table.

Wait, is there?

“…Ryan, is there-”

“Yes, you spilt my milk in my f*cking man purse B-den”

Oh crap

“Congratulations”

He gave me the Tyrone tone of voice. The same blank yet forcefully enthusiastic voice you hear from the man that often wears a business outfit and a tie.

Where’s the escape Trainer button when you need it?

His face… I couldn’t see it under his brushed locks of hair. I’m not sure whether to look or not to look, either way it’ll probably just result to a really bad, salty ending. Sounds like something you see on Walmart eh? Bittersweet I guess? I am not so sure.

Oh F- the bell rang. It’s really torturous to hear it every single day of the week, especially the inescapable Mondays we have here at school, technically, everybody’s school.

Dallon grabbed his bag and left quickly, even faster than Spencer was when he ran over a advert pole drunk, remind to tell you that story sometime, just not today. Dallon’s a pretty straight guy, he’s like this dad who would be so overprotective of his children- or his students in the real world perspective, but when you think of the other side of that trait, he’s making fucking Dad jokes that my own Dad wouldn’t say. My Dad probably has a better sense of humor than Dallon- Dadlon, whatever.

And honestly speaking, he’s probably trying to avoid making any conversation with us, since we’re kind of talking sweet sweet cocaine.

Ahh yes, I’m about to walk back to the same tracks juniors walk to. I’ll probably receive about ten hearty smiles on my way there. Bet you ten bucks.

Alright, I finally forced my feet to walk and leave the table. Reaching for the end of the cafeteria…

Mrs Jackson smiled. One- wait, that doesn’t count as a junior? She looks nasty tho? Fine, stop judging my poor taste alright?

Passing by Ms Fletcher- okay, one. Her small smile is cleary not that visible. She’s the same child writing poems and speech-y crap for the principal to get quote on quote “extra credit” when in reality she’s serving weeks of detention, constant, but hey, she plays the best d*mn pranks in this school, okay, maybe third bestest.

I still played the “Place-posters-with-Pete’s-phone-number-with-the-tag-’call single males now!’” Prank

Walking around Spencer… Taking a glanc- two.

Oh, I forgot…. Whatever, Spencer looks like a kindergarten anyways so either way no points for me.

Spencer waltzed back to 9AM1 aww.

With how much students doesn’t rush to class after the bell rings, it wouldn’t let me reach that sweet sweet bar of full-on-smiles. Fine, future students, I owe you all ten bucks… only if you’re admit to our holy sacred school though.

Ha! I sound like Principal Wentz.

Profit-oriented mindset over one hundred babe.

I just entered the horrifying classroom of 8AM3. Welcome back to the real world my friends. As soon as I pretty much had my presence in the room students came to class. I heard a lot of talk ‘bout me being the coolest, chillest, most laid-back teacher here in the Junior buildings so I guess I have no competition or complaints.

I can already see the small group of students which I have known to be quite shy. They have my music class after Patrick’s theory crap that I don’t really pay that much attention to.

Mr Flowers just nodded along the conversation he’s having while Mr Bowie kept talking about this junior that idolizes him despite walking down outside the halls of my class. They sure have forgotten that I’m not closing the Godd*mn door before the class have their attendance.

My habitual scoff just came by so casually that students think of it as some form of comic relief. I don’t really know how to explain to these lil demons that it’s an attitude problem.

To think that Patrick’s just on my class, 8AM3, right now, teaching them how Do and Re sounds good together makes me feel better on how I’m actually giving the world- 9AM1 rather, a favor for consuming their time studying with my existence. That’s a joke, Patrick’s probably having fun right now.

Well, it looks like it’s about time.

I looked out the window in the similar fashion the students did as well.

Tick tock tick tock.

“What time is it?” Oh god, that voice crack though. I can hear the punks in this class snickering at it.

“Just struck nine” There goes my sunshine haired buddy cham pal.

“Is the cat at home?”

“He’s about to dine”

It’s Josh, this happened yesterday as well, and the day before. He’s teaching that “cat and mouse” game with the students; this time it’s 8AM2, not 8AM1.

Did I already explained to you why I call classes by numbers?

Well, because the real names sucks. No kidding, it’s so overused.

Who would name their classroom “Grade Eight Morning Glory?”, seriously? I want my class to be “Grade Eight Mary Jane”

Has that kind of ring to it, amiright?

Up until now I wonder why on earth Patrick and Frank likes their class names. I mean- those names are decades old. “Grade Ten Patience” seems plain, don’t tell Frank that.

“Sir do we have an assessment today?” Molly asked from the back with her hand stretched higher than Tyler’s current mood. I nodded as they all groaned. Laughing out of- well, sadism I guess? I had the projector connected to the PC and had it on freeze.

There the students saw my desktop wallpaper of a class picture me and the 8AM3 informally had, plus Patrick, Dallon and Spencer. Spencer truthfully looked out of place in this picture, it looks like he had a date with Aubrey Hepburn. Meanwhile Dallon stood there like he’s telling everyone his birthday is today- but he doesn’t have to lie that it’s on May 4th and that he just turned seven. Patrick’s just there, signature fedora on and a small peace sign.

Let’s not forget my entire class though. We have Frank Gioia and Eva in the front with Frank’s hands on her waist as her eyeliner-ed eyes shone against the color black. The Fro power and his friend glasses just stood there with awkward check poses that seems to go back somewhere deep and hidden in the past. Melanie and Ashley just stood there with no expression, except for the other student beside them, which is Jon, who’s doing the same peace sign Patrick’s been keeping up. The rest is can be explained stereotypical-ly; the emo, the shy artist, the jock, it’s just a fun variety to look at.

“Is that cous’?” I saw him pointing at the one with a black hoodie from the corner of my eye.

“Yep, that’s definitely your cousin Adam”

“They all look happy as heck”

“Sir can we take this sort of picture later?”

Another batch of noise.

Anyways, before my brain shuts down to “teaching mode” looks like I have to get back to this thinking normally crap later. Honestly the author just got no idea how American schools work so let her skip this part dotdootdoot. (let’s just say rep-emo isn’t an American Author (badum tsk))

●———————–●

Finally; the end of the day. Organizing my stuff after drinking my cold caffeine that was left in the canteen at break, I finally had my temporary freedom I shall redeem before my world domination.

Speaking about possible world domination if either me or Patrick does it we’ll both have things planned out but procrastinate later on.

Blowing my students a playful kiss when the bell rang I waltz to the exit first, even so I can still hear their laughs and joyful cheers.

Then I saw something- rather, someone I wish I could just avoid for the week.

Christian Tyler Joseph

My feet practically swooshed and I’m pretty sure my sole—and also my soul—said “nope, not today”. I swear, I’m an atheist but I prayed at that very moment. You know that tense feeling those cliché video game main character does when he or she feels the villain’s presence or just something freaky in the ceiling happens? If you’re thinking you are imaging those overused gulp noises that’s actually real, very real.

Yeah, feeling it.

“Oy! Brendo-”

“I’ll pay my debt later Troye!” Thank God I cut him off before he diss me in front of the students.

“For the last time Fivehead it’s Tyler!”

I know. Dude, we’ve been working together for years now and yet you seem dense about it, maybe that’s just because I always act stupid, don’t let that fool you, I am stupid.

Honestly, that poor guy is so easy to tease. If it wasn’t for my distracting use of ’T’-names I would have had a small—small as Tyler could get—fight. I heard a huff from behind my back that obviously came from Tyler himself, yes, I’m stubborn.

●———————–●

A sigh sadly escaped my lips as I flipped to peak into my students’ Assessment grades.

From Ashbridge to Zoroa; all were sorts of disappointment. Even those who got perfect seems fake to me. If Ryan didn’t left me to go somewhere with Spencer he would have said the grades are as fake as diamonds that looks like broken glass.

I’m so unhappy right now. Never thought I’d use that word.

That all changed when I heard the door slid and also a student did the same but in a more humane manner.

          Enter Ashley the student.

She’s that special student who’s quite popular, inside and outside school grounds. She’s literally a celebrity. She seems to get away each time she dyes her hair unlike another student of mine that goes by the name “crybaby”.

Guess who’s her advisor?

Yeah, that’s obviously me, anyone who said “Dallon” deserves a spank… or a slap, that’s just kinky.

“Hey there Mister Urie”

“Hello to you too Ashley, what’s up?”

Unlike other schools, we’re all practically informal here; teachers and students are pretty much close buds that we don’t even have some guidance counselor, I don’t know if that is a flaw or not… I guess Meagan is a counselor, but that’s just Pete’s wife. Going back to Ashley she’s the only girl in my class—well aside from Melanie—that calls me Mister Urie all the time, but that’s probably due to respect, which is quite neat unlike some students.

“I have milk and cookies here, Melanie wanted to give this out and um… She also asked me to give you this note…”

Yeah, that’s Melanie, no one exactly trusts her, except for Tyler and Hal- I mean Ashley I guess.

“Cool, just place it one of the chairs thanks”

She nodded- before I rudely interrupted when the thought rushed back deep inside my skull.

“Wait, what’s written?”

“Umm… It says; Do you like my cookies? They’re made just for you, a little bit of sugar and… lots of poison too” She seems to hesitate on reading it and I have no doubts on why she is.

Honestly, this is one of those times I wish I could pacify her.

I couldn’t blame her actions, she’s been through a lot- like, a whole looot, as edgy as the book written by Pete when he was young (we fortunately got to read it in his office, don’t tell anyone) she has been kidnapped, rough family, drugged and other things I wouldn’t go deeper.

She’s pretty odd, but really a pretty nice person at the same time. It’s like the half dyes of her hair. She, Frank, Eva, Jon, Mikey, Ray and Richie would talk to me all day and I feel comfortable with them.

I honestly like crazy people like her. She doesn’t mind me doing crappy things and she empathize with me, it’s nice to have someone like that ya know?

Hallelujah, I have such great students and yet I’m a sh*tty teacher. I wonder what type of cookies are in there-

F*ck, that pink pastel box looks creepy as Teletub-

I need some breather.

“Hey Ashley can you pass me the coc-”

Oh wait f*ck

She doesn’t know that yet

Oh god that sounds wrong. No I’m not gay shut up… What are you talking about me and Ryan are just friends. No, not even Dallon, shut up. Denial what the- okay I’m done talking to y'all, I’ll tell you about my past with Ryan later, m'kay? Yes I’ll talk about Dallon later too but now you f*cks are just distracting me.

Anyways, she doesn’t know I do cocaine.

“Uhh… what?”

Sh*t, you guys make me sound so bad. Thinking about it, I am the only one to blame if she did knew.

Think Brendon! Think!

WHY AM I IMAGINING SCENES FROM HANGOVER RIGHT NOW?! IT’S STILL 2001.

“Pass me the…. baby powder from the back of the second row shelf thanks”

“Okay… what does it look like there’s a bunch of jars here Mister Urie!” Yelling a bit for me to hear, I felt a drop of sweat coming from my distracting forehead.

“Uhh…. It’s in one of those straight shoote- I mean flower designs in it”

She raised a small glass tube with some flower designs in it. She raised her eyebrow a bit like it’s already questioning me.

I mean, why would someone smoldering with appeal like me would buy flowers? I had enough with people questioning my sexuality so I’m not having that again.

“This one?” She held the love roses tube and shook it. I hope she didn’t suspect me for anything if so then I hope that I ain’t kissing Pete’s *ss for this. Thank past me for buying filtered one and not the transparent, but that’s too early for me to say so.

“Yeah, bring it here. Thanks” She threw it to me and I caught it, fortunately.

“Why would you have it in a flower case?”

Haha…

“I have no containers left, is all”

She nodded once more “I’m pretty sure Principal Wentz would allow ya to use one of the containers in the science room, I mean you’re close to Mister Iero as well right?”

Haha… riiight. I’m pretty sure Mister Wentz or Iero wouldn’t

“Yeah, thanks for the idea and the cookies, tell Melanie the same”

“Yeah, you’re welcome Mister Urie”

●———————–●

“BRENDON!”

That’s Dallon, once more in all his glory. He never seems to stay calm after his week of teaching in this school. His hair looks like his wife quiffed it- whatever people call that hairstyle, maybe I should say hair mess.

“What?” As you can tell, I’m tired as well so long and goodnight Dal, I need some shut eye. This is the same man who almost fell asleep while teaching the opium war, quite surprising that he can be this tense.

“YOU CAN’T DO DRUGS IF THEY CAUGHT YOU YOU’RE IN BIG TROUBLE-”

“SHH!”

Yeah! I would be if you continued yelling.

“Shut up Dallon” I closed the door behind me only to here Dallon handling the doorknob back open.

“Brendon, it’s not healthy”

What is he gonna say? Cardiac arrest? Lung problems? Yeah, I know the side effect don’t worry about it, stimulation has always been a part of me even though I try so hard to deny it. I try to stop each time though so I don’t have to hear this right now.

(Author just searched the side effects of cocaine so this may not be exact, author is not a doctor, author’s life sucks)

“Uhuh”

“No I’m serious! My friend used to do drugs as well and he-”

Oh no. I’m having this talk again am I?

Rolling my eyes back to a distant land called “Nopeland”. I could only hear incoherent sounds of a failed attempt to get me to change my decisions in life. I only found the polychromatic color that matches the walls once more when my eyes landed back to my table.

Smirk.

Grab.

Flick.

“W-cou-hat the h-heck Brendon that’s childish eew is that baby powder or powdered milk? Disgusting”

Nah, that’s coke, have fun cleaning your uniform for tomorrow morning kiddo.

And then- with just one swish and flick- I magically landed back to happy land. Maybe it’s the side effect of cocaine, may or may not be but whatever, I’d like to think that it is for the moment. It’s nice to see someone’s first encounter with coke, if I were to be Van Gogh I’d be painting this view of Dadlon trying to remove the white stains from his crotch right now.

Looks like I have something to write on my Journal huh?

Let’s be real though dear hopefully-future-students; my dairy is a lot more cooler than the Diary Of A Wimpy kid? No? Yeah you’re right, my life sucks. If this were a subject you all would have had all my assessments perfect even on your first day.

I don’t know whether you should take that as a compliment or that states you’re slowly becoming trash- well no, technically all you little eyes are my treasure so don’t go living in the dumps.

“Brendon please help me remove this stuff”

“No thanks”

“Beeeebooo”

“Not this again Dallon”

This is some sick technique in which Dallon uses the nickname “Beebo” to get me to do something. No, I’m not telling you “why Beebo?”.

Fine.

It all started when me and Patrick were teaching the seniors for a bit since Andy couldn’t come due to a winter storm at his place. We were at Patrick’s small enthusiastic explanation about a simple concept when someone boldly called me “Beebo” and it just stucked.

Groaning in the same manner the students of 9AM1 from earlier, I grabbed my handerchief and started rubbing the surface of his sweater that he probably bought last week.

“I hate you”

“Love you too Beebs, now continue helping me will you?”

Geez, I do have a lot to write down today.

Oh crap, he didn’t bought this last week; it says “Grade 10 Hibiscus” so it’s most probably hand made for him from his last advisory class. He got this last Christmas. Crap, I ruined his greatest gift. I am so sorry Dallon. Best not to tell this and the Ashley incident to anyone.

●———————–●

My eyes wondered about when I saw the box Ashley left in the corner.

That pink box…

I swear, I don’t have any idea on what to do with these cookies, they actually smell and look delicious. I guess I’ll never know huh?

“Hey Mister Urie is Richie’s detention over? He asked me to go shopping in Hot Topic today that’s why I’m asking” The next person to ever slide in after class today is Frank Gioia. The emotional kid who doesn’t seem to mind what everyone thinks, he’s a cool dude I swear.

“Oh, he’d be up by no-”

About the box….

As bright as the ideas Gerard drew in his sketchpad (which is full of strange looking people by the way, especially that all white violin girl), my eyes fluttered at the sudden thought that occured.

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head to peak in a bit more. He doesn’t seem to be fazed at the fact I avoided answering his question.

“Want some cookies?”

Silence.

He stared at me for a bit, then back to the box I was supposedly reaching out for him to taste. His eyebrow raised at the sight of it.

“Isn’t that Melanie’s?”

Oh, he knew, that was some fail.

Lie or not to lie?

Nah, lying is pretty much fun if you’re a girl.

“Yeah, Melanie gave it to me earlier”

“Yeah saw it too”

Then another batch of awkward silence followed as we stared at each other, eyes locked with such confusion present on both sides.

“Sure… I’ll take one”

He came closer and took a bite of the chocolate chipped cookies from the forsaken box. He seems delighted somehow.

Well.

Looks like I have a new box to place my ecstasy.

●———————–●

I bumped into Ryan earlier.

He gave me this blank look before leaving me in the halls. He seemed to be carrying another paper bag; two packs of cheese whiz I presume. He didn’t seem to mind me whenever I snoop into his bags, although this time was an exception.

       ⏭️The theater in Brendon’s mind⏮️

Ryan: *looking at his paper bag*

Fab Brendon: What’s that *about to reach into the bag*

Ryan: *Slaps hand*

Ryan: Y o u  a r e  n o t  m y  f r i e n d

Exit Ryan.

⏯️

Trust me, give him a few more days and the two of us we’ll be okay, he wouldn’t exchange our friendship over cheese whiz….

I wonder if he thinks the same about me and Frank Sinatra, if so tell him I’d choose the latter.

●———————–●

On my way home I saw Ray and Mikey talking about Gerard and his small sketchpad they saw behind the bush in which he probably left it.

“How did it end up there in the first place?” They looked as confused as I am, Ray just raised his lips a bit higher to look like he’s pensive for an answer.

“He’s Mister Way after all, he can get like this, right Moikey?”

“Mikey Ray, It’s Mikey. Yes, he does act as irresponsible at times”

Sometimes I wonder if that face shows sadness, disappointment, anger or just plain nothing. It’s a pokerface no one could ever break, not even that time Joe played around with Frank’s chemistry set, I mean, mixing Mountain Dew and chunks of Doritos was funny and all, and Gerard’s reporting skills on that scene made the class laugh even more.

I sure do love this school’s innocent scenes.

Wait I’m going too far, back to Mikey.

“Anyways, do you know where your brother is at the moment?”

He shook his head in reply but Ray nodded it with excitement.

“Yeah he said he’s going to binge watch Star Wars in the cinema”

Mikey’s face dropped a bit before going back to normal. That action probably meant sadness… right?

“He forgot to drive me back home, whatever I’ll just walk”

“I’ll come with you don’t worry, we’re practically neighbors”

“no we’re not”

“shush”

I know that I laughed at that small conversation but I still feel the small strange vibe Mikey’s been radiating, unlike Gerard he would have punched me in the face if he was at the scene and tell me to “stay the *beep* away from my sketchpad!”

Was that beep necessary?

“Do you want me to call Gerard?”

“No, it’s okay Mister Urie”

I shrugged as he denied my random act of kindness, ouch.

“Whatever kiddos, get home safely okay?” “Yes Mister Urie” “Oh, and bring your brother’s sketchpad, he doesn’t want it in my hands”

Mikey raised an eyebrow “Don’t you wanna see what’s inside?”

I mean, it could be anything edge-shock-y so I wouldn’t dare open it.

“N-nah, rather not”

Mikey just nodded and fetched for the sketchpad in my hands.

Then I walked back home, just like they did.

God, I’m stopping drugs. Things like this are more stimulating…. and stressful

[joshurie]

a tag cause im bored

This is super cool! I wasnt tagged in it bc i have no frens but i still want to do it. 

i tag @johnpotter @samandthedinosaurs @tyde-jpg @loveconquersall

1.    a song from the year you were born

uhm lol the fucking MACARENA 

2.    a song that reminds you of school

dare i say it.. All Time Low - Backseat Serenade

3.    a song tied to a specific moment in your life

My Chemical Romance - Desert Song

4.     a song that is not sung in your native language

basically almost every one i know

5.     a song over 5 minutes long

Coldplay - The Scientist

6.     a song under 2 minutes long

Coldplay -  Mylo Xyloto (fucking banger tho)

7.     an instrumental

Panic! At the Disco - Intermission

8.     a classical piece

Pachelbel - Canon in D

9.     a song with no percussion

Panic! At The Disco - End of All Things

10.   something you’ve heard performed live

Twenty One Pilots - Car Radio

11.   something you’d give ANYTHING to hear performed live

My Chemical Romance - Welcome to the Black Parade

12.   a song by an artist who’s from where you’re from (town/city/state/country)

Helene Fischer - Atemlos.   lol 

13.   a song made suddenly precious because of a special someone

Panic! At The Disco - Sarah Smiles

14.   a song made suddenly awful because of a special someone

Imagine Dragons - 32 Stories

15.   something to BELT SHAMELESSLY/do DIVA HANDS to

Panic! At The Disco - There’s a good reason... ( i forgot the rest of the song title)

16.   something to SCREAM ALONG to

My Chemical Romance - Famous Last Words

17.   a song for raging

Fall Out Boy - My Songs know what you did in the dark

18.   a song that demands lipsyncing into a makeshift microphone

Spice Girls - Wannabe

19.   the last song you had stuck in your head

Kinky Boots Musical - Soul of a Man

20.   a song you’re dying to master all the words to

Twenty One Pilots - Heavydirtysoul  or Ode to Sleep

21.   a song that you could SLAY at karaoke

haha ANY SONG by Panic

22.   a song you can’t help but dance to

I Dont Know How But They Found Me - Modern Day Cain

23.   a song that makes you want to dance on a table

Panic! At the Disco - Time to Dance

24.   a song that makes you wanna STRIP

Panic! At The Disco - Lying is the most fun...

25.   a song with a great music video

My Chemical Romance - Ghost of You

26.   a song that makes you act out the music video when you hear it

PSY - Gangnam Style

27.   a song with counting

Panic! At The Disco - Vegas Lights

28.   a song with spelling

Macklemore and Ryan Lewis - Cant Hold Us

29.   a song with lots of clapping

Imagine Dragons - Thunder

30.   a song 40 years older than you

Elvis Presley - Tutti Frutti

31.   a song you wish your parents didn’t know the words to

Jon Bellion - All Time Low

32.   a song whose lyrics shocked you once you were old enough to understand them

All Time Low - Backseat Serenade  i was so innocent 

33.   a song you have ZERO patience for

like a song im excited for? or a song thats too long?

I Dont Know How But They Found me - Choke (1)

Coldplay - Oceans

34.   a song you’d like your favourite artist to cover

My Chemical Romance - Disenchanted 

brendon do it 

35.   a great song you discovered thanks to a movie

Smash Mouth - All Star (im sorry)

36.   a great song you discovered thanks to television

David Bowie - Starman

37.   a song you’re ashamed to have in your music library

Shrek- Shrek is love, Shrek is life

38.   ok what’s the song you were too ashamed to even post for #37

Erna - Der Schepper Song.  dont ask

39.   the most played song in your music library

Panic! At The Disco - This Is Gospel

40.  favourite disney song

Moana - How Far I’ll Go

[scarlettsage77]

Maybe This Time -- Chapter One “Random”

Tom Hiddleston x Plus Size OFC

No real description yet, It is going to be sweet and fluffy for the most part... but you guys know me... that never lasts haha

Chapter One - Random

It was just a random Thursday night. Why do the best things seem to happen on the most random days and the most random times? If it were a scene in a scene in a movie it would have been a rainy night. A chance meeting in a smoky bar or cafe. A sudden spotlight on the perfect girl in slow motion.

It wasn’t a movie though, so it had far less fanfare. It was a clear and quiet night, it was a hole in the wall cabaret in a neighborhood about halfway to being gentrified, and it was just a woman with a voice.

He'd been out to dinner with friends and was walking back to his hotel when he heard the music and figured a nightcap wouldn't hurt. The bartender nodded as he came in, motioning him over as the emcee, a brassy woman with dyed black hair and so much confidence it was almost imposing, introduced the next act. He ordered a beer and settled at one of the empty tables, taking in the charming little room with mismatched tables and chairs, bowls of candy and dollar store electronic candles on each table, artwork at various levels of talent, each tagged and displayed proudly despite the disparity in quality. He finally turned to the stage when the piano started playing and another woman took the stage.

If he was honest, his first thought was how unremarkable she was, round-faced and pleasant looking, her hair braided back from her face, wearing a perfectly ordinary paisley print thrift store dress, nothing flashy or sexy, just a normal looking woman, more curves than angles, walking out to take center stage. Yet something about her was also instantly appealing to him. She seemed quiet, thanking the emcee and adjusting the mic stand so she wouldn't have to stand on her toes, cringing at the noise it made through the sound system. He laughed a little when she apologized to someone off stage, “Sorry, Fred, I tried really hard to not be short tonight, but it couldn't be avoided.”

A voice called from the back of the house, “You're good, Jules. It's my fault for not bringing in a step for you.”

She laughed, oh that was a laugh, and she shook her head, turning to the pianist and giving him a nod.

He felt himself leaning in, suddenly needing to hear more of this voice. She had a wonderful laugh and a light soft voice that felt like whimsy, what was going to happen when she used that voice to shape a melody.

She took a slow deep breath, her eyes shifting to look at some invisible face out in the distance. “Tonight you're mine, completely. You give your love so sweetly. Tonight the light of love is in your eyes, but will you love me tomorrow?”

That first impression was so very wrong, she was mesmerizing. She didn't belt things out or insist you watch her with overwrought faces and overdramatic gestures, she just sang a song as if she was having an honest conversation with someone. It was heartbreaking.

He forgot about his beer, he forgot about the candles and the candy and the mismatched tables and art, he was just, for the three-song set, all slow and sad ballads about heartbreak, confusion, and loss, completely lost in her face, her soft, fragile voice, her real and gentle, yet jarring pain.

As the piano finished out playing the final song, she readjusted the mic, stretched up to it to give a quiet thank you, and disappeared behind the black curtain at the back of the stage.

He wanted to follow her, to make her turn around, to look into her eyes and wrap his arms around her and tell her that she was beautiful, that everything was going to be okay because a part of him felt like no one had ever told her that.

He sipped his beer and watched the rest of the show. They were an interesting bunch of misfits: the handsome broadway tenor with an impressive falsetto but a little too much bravado, the sultry redhead who was clearly meant to be the star with her cookie cutter perfectly imperfect singing and tutorial quality makeup, the bluesy older woman with graying hair and a slight lack of rhythm. He couldn't leave, he just kept hoping she would come out from behind the curtain again, he wanted to talk to her, to tell her how amazing he thought she was, he just hoped she was still here.

After the final singer, the emcee came back and thanked the nearly empty room, giving him a point and a wink, “Especially you, you're new and should come back more often, handsome.”

He gave her a cheers and a nod and finished off his drink, leaving a tip under the bowl of candy. He was almost to the door when he heard her name again. “Jules!”

Just her head popped out from behind the curtain, hair unbraided and piled on top of her head is a messy, wavy knot, “What up, Fred?”

“Can you come keep an eye on the board for a bit? I need a smoke.”

“Sure thing.” She popped out from behind the curtain, the makeup scrubbed off, wearing an oversized David Bowie t-shirt and a floor length black and white skirt, glasses perched on her head. He watched her as she bounced off the stage and trotted past him. He wanted to stop her, but it felt like he was intruding, and it was never a good idea to postpone a techie when he was finally getting a chance for a smoke break, so he just smiled when she made the briefest of eye contact on her trek to the sound booth.

He took his glass to the bar, looking for excuses to linger. The others started dribbling out from backstage, making small talk with the few people still in the room. The tenor came bounding over to him. “Hey, Man, thanks for coming in.”

They shook hands, and he shifted his attention to the younger man. “Oh, no, thank you, you guys have a good show here. I'm glad I stumbled upon it.”

His eyes kept drifting to her as he made small talk, she was watching them.

The tenor kept talking, “Anyone ever tell you-you look like that dude?”

He laughed, “All the time.”

The redhead turned up next, draping herself lazily against the tenor, “Hey baby, Ani says she needs your black shirt. She's gonna fix that button.” she barely noticed anyone but the tenor. He looked over the sound booth again, biting back a laugh when she had queued up Avril Lavigne’s “Girlfriend”. This was starting to make a lot of sense.

He excused himself from the now far too handsy couple, took a breath and headed over to the booth. “Hey.”

She shook her head and looked down at him, “Shit, oh, Hi, sorry I was somewhere else, did you have a request?”

He laughed, “No, not really, I just wanted to come over and tell you that I thought you were amazing.”

She laughed with a half smile and waved him off, “Bah, it was alright, but thank you.”

“No, really, you are fantastic, don't brush it off.”

She squinted and shook her head, “Um, thank you.”

He reached over the board carefully, “I'm Tom, and yeah, I just really needed to come and tell you that.”

She took his hand and gave it a firm shake, “I’m Jules,” she paused then, really looking at him now. “Wait, you're Tom, like” her voice drops to a stage whisper, barely audible over the music playing, “That Tom.”

He couldn't help but laugh, rubbing the back of his head, nodding.

She laughed also, a nervous edge to that affable laughter. “I'm a fan, so, excuse me a moment while I try to tamp down my inner screaming fangirl.”

“Oh you're fine.” he smiled falling then into an easy silence, just looking into her eyes.

A kind-faced man with a salt and pepper goatee came up behind her, “You're all clear, thanks, Jules.”

She snapped out of the silence. “Cool cool, I'm gonna duck out then, tell Ani I'll email her the new design tomorrow, okay?”

“Got it. Have a good one.” He gave her pat on the back and she hopped down.

She really was a short one, easily a head shorter than him. She extended her hand this time. “It was nice to meet you, Tom, thank you for coming.”

He smiled and took her hand, “Jules, can I buy you a drink?”

The shock on her face was adorable, “Sure, but not here, Ryan waters down the scotch.”

[schismusic]

Yeah, this was literal ages ago and I was tagged by @cruento-ombro (who I’d like to thank infinitely for always being there, really. Thanks, Sofia). Finally I got around it. Let’s goooooo!

1. What language besides your native language, would you like to learn/be fluent in?

German and Japanese right now (yeah, thank Kraftwerk and Neon Genesis Evangelion for this one), but I’d also like to learn Romenian

2. How many pairs of shoes do you have?

I have no idea, really

3. What’s the last compliment you got?

There’s this girl I’ve been talking to recently, who always says she loves how fluffy my hair is. :^)

4. What’s your favourite quote at the moment?

“The key to joy is disobedience. There is no guilt and there is no shame.” (Coil)

5. What does your name means?

It’s a Greek word related to the idea of crowns, I think

6. Music taste?

I hope it’s good, that’s pretty much it. I like minimalist and/or highly percussive stuff. I like strange sounds. I like stuff with a meaning behind it, be it because of its actual lyrics or what it philosophically stands for.

7. Do you have any other SM (social media) sites? If so, link them and what is your favourite?

Facebook, Instagram and I used to have a Wattpad account but I forgot the password. Shit happens, I guess.

8. What is your favourite food?


I think it’s poached eggs. Keeping it simple.

9. Age?


Seventeen and a half.

10. Birthday?


11th July, funny day to have your birthday on since nothing ever happens

11. Favourite drink?

Pepsi and 7-Up. Plus obligatory reference to water because you know, life stems from it being a polar molecule and stuff

12. How many siblings do you have?

1 sister

13. Current drama?


Kids, don’t go to classic high school. Please.

14. If you were a pokemon, what would you be called and what would you look like?


Mewtwo, because I can’t even understand myself and I feel like I’m basically an existentialist but devoid of any human rational capability

15. Cats or dogs?

Just give me a furball and I’ll be happy, albeit possibly suffocating because of their hair

16. Do you have freckles?


No, I don’t

17. Who is your style crush?


Hard oneeee. Is David Bowie too obvious?

18. Favourite candle scent or scent in general?

I don’t really like scented candles, unluckily

19. Do you have any weird obsessions? If so, what and why?


T-shirts of things I like. I love, love t-shirts. I’m currently surfing Amazon looking for NGE, The Cure and Swans tees (I want an Eva t-shirt so effin bad please send help). Also chibi-style, cute little things such as phone charms and stuff.

20. Do you still watch cartoons?


‘Course I do, no life is complete without at least one favourite animated movie or series

21. Do you like wearing slippers?

I don’t mind them. After long walks, they are pure relief but I get used to the good sensation pretty fast.

22. Shark diving, bungee jumping, or sky diving?


Bungee jumping for sure!

23. What are your favourite clothing stores?


Hmmm, hard one again. I don’t know, bands’ merch tables at their concerts?

24. What is your favourite ice cream flavour?


After eight af. Also strawberry and excessively sugary bubblegum-like flavours.

25. Do you have any phobias?


There are quite a few I think, but I can’t really pinpoint them.

26. What is your wardrobe colour scheme?


Too varied to put them all here. There truly are a lot of colours in my wardrobe.

27. Tea or coffee?


50/50 to me

28. Favourite clothing item?

Either suit and tie or t-shirts related to bands and other stuff I like.

29. What would your dream bedroom look like?

The rehearsal rooms for my bands

30. What were your best childhood TV shows?


The Mr Bean animated series and Fairly Oddparents, for sure

31. What do you always have on you?

My mobile phone, my wallet, my glasses

32. What is the current temperature outside right now?

24.3°C

I’m tagging @illbehidinginmycloset, @knight-of-the-green-shield, @oh-what-a-strange-magic, @my-space-and-all-within. Have fun!