#so many artist one off shops on top of thrift stores

[raspberryspace]

3/3/24 - Shimo-Kitazawa

[holdinbacksecrets]

svt: how they try to take care of u ?

(sorry I'm on my period and therefore, sad. i'll just take anything i can get) i'll come back if i think of more

seventeen taking care of you / making you feel better

TW: chronic pain, anxiety/OCD, parental loss

♡you never buy anything for yourself that can’t be eaten or used as a basic necessity, so he started buying everything else. your one sweater is adorable but a few more will be nice when the temperature drops. a pair of jeans so old the tag’s faded is fine, but he knows how much you love the wide-legged cut, and they’re thrifted so even better. your favorite artist is going on tour, and you never once entertained the thought of going. then two tickets are set on the kitchen table instead of jam for your toast. “i bought two because i was hoping we could go together, but you can take someone else if you want. i know seungkwan’s the girl group lover, but i’m… yours so… could be a fun date night.” you let him take you shopping for an outfit. maybe you even ask to go, and he lights up at the question because yes baby, it’s ok to treat yourself

♡anxiety keeps you inside sometimes. the intrusive thoughts grow loud and wield weapons, so you stay beneath your sheets and hope someone else’s voice will be louder than the ones in your head. for so long, it was only ever yours fighting the battle, with no one else to rely on. now, it’s his too. and he knows when it’s needed. not just his voice but his body. his hands. his warmth. his gentle coaxing. his ability to exist in this space with you when the shame is so thick you’ve forgotten your name. he reminds you. sometimes a touch is all you need. sometimes more, and that’s ok

♡he knows how important your environment is to you, so he makes sure the space feels alive and vibrant and warm. fresh bouquets. linen scented candles. curtains open.

♡he walks with you while it rains. he bought matching boots. they’re red and obnoxious, but your whole demeanor changes at the thought of wearing them alone. and, he always finds out a secret. he wonders how many you have, and why it takes the sky pouring for you to open up too

♡you started looking through old photo albums together, and he didn’t miss the beamed excitement as you shared stories behind captured moments. he revisited the ones connected to meals and decided to start cooking them for you. the very first night it happens, he’s home first, and the nostalgic aroma recreates a happy slice of life you had never dreamed of stepping back into

♡you lay on the living room carpet. you lay on the cement. you lay in the grass. sometimes, all you need is the feeling of sturdiness beneath you. he never asks why, but he’ll lay beside you. he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t touch you first. he just joins you. you take his hand every time, lay it on your chest, and kiss his fingertips

♡whenever you leave to go out with friends or even around the corner to the stationary store you love, he reminds you you can call him if something comes up… if you need him… he’ll be there

♡lays on top of you. braids your hair to keep it off your face. applies chapstick and then kisses you so he can have some too. grabs an extra spoon when he’s making a bowl of cereal. asks you to shower with him when you’ve been in bed all day. dries your hair. dresses you in his clothes because sweater paws always make you laugh

♡it’s not easy to hide parts of yourself from him, including your chronic pain. he acquired so much knowledge in a short period of time that you asked where he came from. all he did was smile and adjust your heating pad. but it’s not just that. there are so many details… if one thing doesn’t work, he knows what to try next. he keeps track of the hours passed since you last took medicine. he carries you to the bathroom at 4am as you apologize for waking him

♡he drives you to the house you grew up in. the picket fence is still the same despite some chipped paint. you painted one panel yellow, and it’s stayed all these years. there are still plant holders beneath the kitchen window. your older sister put them up while you plucked dandelions. the flowers trail and sway subtlety in the breeze. tears rush your eyes at the memory of roasting marshmallows on the front lawn. if you close them, you can imagine your mother’s voice. it’s been too long without hearing it beside your ear, over your shoulder, from a room away. the thought alone raises goosebumps, so you reach for the man beside you to break apart the heavy emotions. he had a hard time bringing you back for a while, but something shifts during the drive home. you exhale. you’ve released. the missing doesn’t feel so suffocating

♡you’ve yet to realize the way he always asks for your help when you’re feeling especially existential. maybe all he wants is someone to cross items off the grocery list. maybe it’s unloading the dishwasher or running down to the mail room with him. it doesn’t matter the task, the sudden change is all you need. it’s so subtle, but the heaviness lightens

♡before you go anywhere to eat, he makes sure the menu has options that work for you. you used to feel so badly about your food sensitivities and allergies, but he’s made you feel the furthest thing from burdensome

♡he tells you about his childhood when you can’t sleep or don’t want to because he’ll be leaving soon, and these late nights and early mornings in your living room create the sweetest memories. he feels so real. his chest vibrates against your shoulder every time he laughs. he twirls your hair when he shares painful experiences, so he can focus on you instead of his words. he kisses you and hums afterward, smiling with eyes still closed. says he wants to marry you as the sun comes up. tells you about this picture his dad took when his parents were newlyweds, standing in their first home. his mom wore a long dress with a turtleneck and her hair down. his dad keeps it in his wallet. he wants that with you. it’s silly, he whispers, but i’ve always wanted to love the idea of keeping leather in my back pocket because there’s a piece of love inside. my whole love in a 3 x 2

♡he tells you to slow down, and the words mixed with love make them feel brand new. you rest your head against his chest. you let your breathing match his heartbeat. this close, it’s so loud. your eyelids fall, and he holds you until the tension leaves your shoulders and a thank you spills from parted lips

♡he wasn’t supposed to come over today, but he brought groceries, and you sat in the hallway, against the wall, while he unpacked the cloth bags. “you know where everything goes.” “it would be weird if i didn’t, right?” he smiles and closes your fridge, brushing his toes against the sole of your foot. “your knowing makes me feel balanced, and it’s sort of funny to admit because it’s just groceries.” “but it’s not just groceries.” he sinks to the floor, guiding you to fill the space between his legs. his lips meet your forehead. he smiles against your skin, and you hum at the feeling. “it’s that… all the love. there’s love all over you unpacking my groceries, all over you knowing what i need without texting first.” “when it comes to you, the love is everywhere, on everything, in every act i do.”

[invisibleraven]

deciding together how they want their house to look + willie/anyone please and thank

When Willie and Alex first move in together, it's in shitty student housing that they just have to suffer through. After that, it's a series of cheap apartments, lofts, and one memorable time living in a bus with the rest of Alex's band as they tour.

But now that they're married, with a house all their own, they decide that they can finally turn the place into a home, and the best way to do that is to give it a splash or two of their personality.

Willie vetoes any and all the neutral colours adorning the walls, saying they remind him too much of the various group homes he spent his childhood in. Alex immediately drags him to the local Home Depot, and straight to the paint section, where he becomes like a kid in a candy shop.

"Who knew there were so many shades of turquoise?" Willie wonders aloud as he runs his fingers over the sample cards.

"I like that Canton Jade one," Alex supplies, "Maybe for the bathroom?"

Willie nods in agreement, though that means they do have to find new accessories to match, but a day of cavorting around Bed Bath and Beyond sounds like a fun chore to him.

Then the topic of what to do with the extra rooms comes up. One becomes a studio for Willie's art, Alex takes over the basement to drum and dance. But there's one extra bedroom left. "M-maybe one day it can be a nursery?" Willie suggests. They've discussed having kids one day, very vaguely, but never anything concrete.

"One day," Alex agrees, pulling Willie in to press a kiss to his temple. "But until then it can function as a guest room, maybe get a funky quilt for the bed?"

"The funkiest," Willie replies, and delights in scouring thrift stores to find the perfect piece. And if he finds a truly garish rug that Alex snorts with laughter at before relenting that yes, it would look great in their mudroom, well that's all the better.

In the end, the house is a perfect reflection of them; bold colours, bright patterns and prints. Every wall space is covered in pictures of them, their friends, and pieces of art that Willie got from his artist friends. Plants litter mantle pieces and the tops of cupboards, Willie's old skateboards function as shelves. Overflowing bookshelves, overstuffed armchairs, scattered drumsticks, it's what makes their home. It's them, every piece.

And years later, when Isla is old enough to have opinions about what she wants her room to look like, she lets them know. Sure Alex would have preferred she not decorate her walls and herself with permanent marker, but he can't fault her for her artistic expression.

But that doesn't stop him from muttering curses under his breath as he attempts to scrub her clean, Willie giggling in the background until Alex reminds him it's his job to clean the walls before they take their daughter on her own Home Depot shopping adventure. Willie gives a sheeky salute and a wink before dashing off.

Isla grins at Alex, her smile big and proud, showing off where the last of her teeth are coming in, and Alex has to smile back, kissing her nose, despite the large blue smudge that lingers there. And texts Julie to ask if she would be willing to babysit while they paint, because there is no way Alex wants to find out how hard it is to get paint off a two year old.

[bindtorturekillme]

Your Eyes, Vacant & Stained

Ch.2 - 4k

Pairing: Frank Iero x Gerard Way

“Have you been bit?” He said more like a statement, than a question. 

“Uh, wha- bit?” Frank stammered over his words, he’s been in a couple of drunken fist fights but he’s never had a gun held to his head.

"Did one of those things bite you . Answer me, or I'll shoot." The figure threatened.

Warnings 

Gore, Death, Murder, WORK-IN-PROGRESS, not completed (and chapters unknown) but I know the ending, trust me guys I will write it, I just need people to love this idea with me, Zombies, Gay, mcr??

Support my AO3 with part two otherwise, enjoy ♥

Chap 1 | Chap. 3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap.8 | Chap.9 |

I think it might be zombies...

The joint was gone within ten or fifteen minutes, Frank wasn't sure. He was unaware of how long he’d been driving, either. Much to his fear, radio stations were almost all out. Some stations were playing songs still, but others were just silent, the ones that preached were very quickly skipped. 

This truck had a CD player, and a couple of CD’s hidden in the glove box. The song title and artist blocked the clock on the outdated radio. The sun was still high but it was definitely past noon, the joint had pushed the hangover into a hazy, less nauseating spot in the back of his mind that allowed him to relax. 

The drive had been mostly boring, it was basically all wasteland besides the bodies and cars littering the streets. Most bodies in the roads had been driven over so many times they were practically flat, the others were in piles near flipped cars almost as if someone had been piling them there. Occasionally packs of them would be wandering in the distance, turning towards the sound of the truck as Frank drove by. Frank never really liked sand, or hot places, but his boss had said there would be some big people at the event last night. He wondered if any of them made it out alive.

It had to be nearly two hours before he finally hit a town. The town came out of nowhere, the town literally came to a dead end in the middle of the desert, where Frank rolled in from. He feared for a few moments that he was seeing a mirage, but he pulled the truck over in front of a couple of shops and got out. Using his hands to block the sun, he gazed around the small town that seemed to just go straight down a dusty, two-lane road.

The town felt horrifying, ghostly. The silence made Frank’s ears ring as the wind picked up slightly. A banging of a window cover in the distance made him jump then laugh at himself . He shook off the goosebumps and took a few deep breaths. A few blocks down he spotted a gas station, the truck was so close to empty, he wanted to kiss the parking lot once he reached it. 

But bodies were sprawled aggressively around the town, most of them looked crushed by vehicles, and Frank wanted to avoid any contact with whatever virus was changing people. 

He turned to look at the businesses he parked in front of, one was a thrift shop, the next one was a post office, and the third one was a pharmacy. Post office seemed useless to Frank, he slung the duffle across his back so both of his hands were free. He also took the wrench from before in with him, for protection , he told himself. He clutched it close to his chest as he bee-lined it to the pharmacy, almost praying that it hadn’t already been hit. 

He silently pushed open the door, inside was dark but Frank could see supplies scattered on the floor and two of the shelves laying on top of each other against a wall. Supplies were scattered everywhere, a few lights had been shattered and the shelves that were on top of each other were also broken.

From the outside, it looked like a small building, but as he was making his way through the aisles, they seemed to just keep moving further and further back. He scoured the shelves, unsure of what he really wanted, but the store did not have much left to offer. Many of the boxes or bottles containing things had been ripped open, left spilled on the ground scattered with other broken glass and plastic.

I know it's the apocalypse but is destroying everything on your way out a necessity?

Eventually he dropped onto a knee and grabbed a travel aid kit from the bottom shelf, shoving what was left of it into his bag. He stood up and slid down the aisle to grab a couple different types of pain-killers that were shoved so far back they must've been forgotten. Even if they weren’t strong enough to get him high, he knew the joints were going to run out eventually.

He was lost in thought while browsing what remained of the leftovers when he heard the click of a gun. Slowly, he looked back towards where he came in as he raised his hands up.

A dark figure stood tall next to him holding a shotgun nearly in his face. Frank couldn’t figure out how the man got so close to him so quickly and quietly, but he didn’t think now was the time to ask.

“Have you been bit?” He said more like a statement, than a question. 

“Uh, wha- bit?” Frank stammered over his words, he’s been in a couple of drunken fist fights but he’s never had a gun held to his head.

"Did one of those things bite you . Answer me, or I'll shoot." The figure threatened.

“Please, I just woke up like three hours ago and the world is suddenly on fire. I haven't been bitten by anything.” 

“What’re you doing here?” The figure was unmoving but Frank had calmed himself down a little, although his heart beating could probably be heard from where the figure was standing. 

“I- I am literally just driving through, this car is out of gas, I pulled over, now I’m here and you have me at gunpoint.” He let out a minor sound of panic as he ended the sentence. “I have nothing to fight you with, look,” Frank lazily tossed the wrench to the person's feet, the gun twitched a moment but maintained its target.

“What’s your name?” Again, he said it more like a statement.

“Frank! It’s Frank, now come on man!” The stress was heard in his voice even more this time, even though both spoke in low voices.

The person lowered the gun and Frank was pleasantly surprised to see the man was more attractive than he wanted to admit; his hair was overgrown, greasy, and black, his skin was smooth porcelain with very slim features; his lips and nose were thin and piercing, contrasting his enticing round brown eyes. Frank thought maybe vampiric was a better term to describe the lanky man. He was wearing all black clothes as well, Frank refused to believe he was not drenched in sweat.

Don't let the pretty boy distract you, Frank.

“Thank you,” The man budged the wrench back to Frank with his foot, creating a short scraping sound and then deafening silence. “What’re you doing here, anyways? Isn’t this, like… some apocalyptic shit?” But the man had already walked back around a different shelf,  presumably back to where he came from. “Hey! Hey, hang on!”

Frank scrambled up, collecting his things, slinging the bag across his back again and followed the man around the corner to see him packing a similar bag with gauze and alcohol. The man seemed to ignore Frank, which annoyed him.

“Do you really think I’m going to let you off the hook when you just had a gun pointed to my head?” The man sighed and shoved a bottle of isopropyl into his bag.

“Do you want me to do it again?” The man threatened, Frank immediately threw his hands back up.

“Hey, you seem like you’ve been doing this thing for awhile. I just woke up this morning to people eating people.” The man sighed again, defeated.

“My name’s Gerard. Obviously I’m doing the same thing as you are except my friends and I have been following the virus. Will you get over here and help me pack some of this shit?” Frank rushed over and dropped down, Gerard pointed at sanitizer and sanitizing wipes and Frank followed his direction and stuffed some into the other mans bag. 

There was a moment of silence between them before Frank spoke up again, “Did you say you were following the virus?” 

Gerard nodded, “There’s a lot to it but basically no one believes the virus exists because it’s moving so fast and slow at the same time.” Frank only became more confused, and he figured Gerard could read it on his face. “Look, it’s a lot to explain, but I’ll help you fill up your truck if you drive me back to my safe-house.” Gerard looked Frank in the eyes this time, and Frank felt a twist in his gut.

Frank gulped, they both paused the packing to look at each other, “You, uh… you guys already have a safe-house?” Gerard smiled and Frank felt his face grow hot and red, feeling like a child he looked away.

“I’ll explain more while we get gas, it’s just an abandoned building we’re squatting in.” He laughed lightly and continued to steal random boxes, Frank wondered if Gerard even knew what he was packing. “Come on, there isn’t much else here, did you find what you needed?” 

Frank shrugged and nodded, he wasn’t going to admit he came in here without a plan. “Did you check out the place next door yet?” 

As Gerard stood up, Frank shrunk in his spot. “The post office?” 

“No, no, sorry, the thrift shop? Have you been there yet?” Gerard frowned and shook his head.

“No, sorry, shopping for clothes wasn’t exactly top priority on my mind today.” He chuckled and held out his gloved hand to help Frank stand up. Frank accepted his hand, but when Gerard pulled him up, he also pulled Frank towards him. A faint smell of nicotine and coffee radiated off of the strange man, Frank enjoyed the combination more than he wished he did.

“Sorry, I just… Making conversation, aha…” Frank rocked on his heels and shoved both hands into his pockets. 

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

“Did you want to check it out before we get gas?” Frank shook his head. Gerard remained fairly relaxed as he led them both out of the pharmacy building, careful to scout outside before giving Frank the okay. “There should be canisters there.” Gerard’s tone lowered and Frank knew to follow.

They walked over a block before speaking again, careful to remain fairly quiet even though any creature that was here seemed to be dead now. “So, you and your friends are squatting in an abandoned building… trying to catch up to the virus?”

Air escaped Gerard’s nose as he smiled, “Close yet so far off.” He gave Frank a side eye as they continued towards the gas station. Each building they walked by looked just as abandoned as the last, none of them were destroyed but most were obviously ransacked. Doors hung open, an eerie silence floating around. “My brother and I are from Oregon, that’s where this started actually. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard about it, we’ve been listening to the news stations we can find but nothing is actually covering what’s going on.” Gerard checked around a corner where the road led down into a neighborhood. It was clear, they were almost to the gas station now. “And we aren’t trying to catch up to the virus, we’re more like… storm chasers except we’re… virus chasers.” Gerard grinned widely at Frank, very proud of what he just made up. 

“So, is your brother back squatting for ya?” This made Gerard chuckle.

“He’s not squatting for me, I’m the quietest one in the group so I tend to over scrounge when I get free time. It’s been awhile since we ran into someone, though.” 

“You keep talking about your “group”, who’s your group?” They arrived at the gas station and stopped next to each other.

“It’s just my brother and I and a friend we grew up with.” Gerard shrugged and nodded his head towards the gas station, not giving a chance for Frank to process before he started walking closer.

Frank scrambled to follow him carefully, getting his wrench into a defensive position. Gerard peaked inside through the windows, it looked as deserted as any of the other buildings they found, but they remained cautious. 

Frank kept watch closely next to Gerard as Gerard pushed open one of the front doors, the inside surprisingly still had electricity but the place had clearly also been ransacked.

Cash registers were tipped over, shelves were barricading some windows and side doors. Blood was splattered randomly around the store, a couple of bodies behind the counter had been nearly fully devoured.

There was a body laying on the ground between two shelves, food scattered all around and over it, it was unable to be seen without looking down the aisle. The body was severed at the waist but her head was twisted up and it seemed to stare at Gerard with her twisted scream frozen onto her face. Intestines spilled out down the aisle and her legs were wrapped around the corner of the end of the shelf. Gerard sniffled and continued on towards the refrigerated section.

Frank was stuck on the woman’s body. She was looking at him now with her terrified, vacant eyes. When he was finally able to pull away from her face, he realized she was missing an entire arm while her other arm reached upwards towards him.

He couldn’t help but wonder who she was reaching for. Or why they didn’t help her. 

“Haha, hell yeah!” Frank jumped at the sound of Gerard exclaiming something from the end of the coolers. He heard the sound of a fridge seal back shut as he peaked around the corner. He saw the woman’s legs bent in all directions poking out from behind the shelf at Gerard's feet, but Gerard didn’t seem to care.

Gerard turned around and flashed a couple of frozen pizzas that looked almost fake to Frank, until his mouth started to water and he realized how hungry he actually was. “Are those both supreme?!” Frank quickly met Gerard in the back, forcing the image of the woman away, “We’re gonna have to get you home before they thaw anymore.” They were still mostly frozen, but there was a slight squish as Frank maneuvered the pizzas into Gerard’s backpack.

A crunching drag behind Frank made his blood run cold and Gerard twisted around, raising the shotgun again as he’d done when he met Frank except Gerard had the gun over Frank's shoulder this time. 

They quickly met eyes before Gerard looked back at whatever was behind Frank. His expression was hard and intimidating, but the crunching slowly moved a crawled closer. " Get behind me... " Gerard whispered.

Frank slithered around him to hide and saw the woman from the other aisle pulling her way towards them. Her face was still frozen in a mid scream, her mouth was drooling and her tongue was whipping around randomly as she dragged her body closer. Loud groans were escaping from her throat, her sounds made her look less human.

Okay, zombies are real.

The crunching sound made Frank’s hair stand on end. She dragged her intestines through the broken glass of the fridge doors, a couple of pieces of glass were big enough to cut her and create spurts of blood at the leftover containers and rations on the shelves. Frank’s hunger quickly turned to nausea again and he pulled away a bit, allowing Gerard’s body to hide the woman’s mangled one. 

Gerard took a step, she continued to scrrrrraaaaaaapppppeeeee through the glass. Her mouth made strangled, gurgling sounds, but since it wasn’t able to close, a lot of the bloody saliva continued to spill out of it. 

As Frank ducked to his right he felt himself get hot again at the sight of the woman's mangled legs, what little water he had from the drive there was gone again. From around the corner, a couple of loud thuds that were accompanied by the sound of a thick material shattering could be heard. Frank wiped his mouth clean and stepped back around the corner to see Gerard holding the gun backwards with the hilt embedded in the crushed skull.

He felt the nausea come back and pulled away again. He looked down the aisle where the woman’s body originally was and saw a few leftover medications, some basic summer supplies, and a couple of bags of chips still.

He wasn’t hungry, but he needed to distract himself. He pushed himself down that aisle, pulling his duffel around to his front, he started shoving everything still sealed into his bag. He grabbed two bottles of sunscreen too and stared at the condoms for a moment. Was this something that really mattered during the end of the world?  He questioned himself.

“Hey, did you get my zipper closed?” He turned around and saw Gerard barely peeking over the shelves to look at him. 

“Oh, uh, no, hang on, sorry.” Gerard's head dropped a little and his eyes disappeared as he chuckled.

“You’re fine, I’ll come over to you, there’s nothing else over here anyways. I guess a lot of people had coolers when they left town…” Did anyone leave town or did everyone just get eaten or turned?

Without another thought, Frank shoved the box of condoms into his bag and zipped it quickly. Gerard rounded the corner as he was situating it onto his back again. Gerard had a small smile the entire time and Frank wondered how he could be so positive while actively killing people.

But he realized they weren’t people anymore. The only people left were them and whoever Gerard was with. Gerard stopped right in front of Frank and spun around so he could finish closing his bag. 

“Thanks.. Come on, I think I saw the way into the basement, they have to have canisters down there.” Frank sighed deeply as Gerard went back towards where he found pizzas, Frank followed without question.

And Gerard was right. In the back corner of the gas station, they had two bathrooms and a way into their basement. The basement was dark and dingy, but there weren’t any bodies down there, let alone any blood. There weren’t any windows and the room was relatively small minus two shelving units pushed against a wall that held random cleaning supplies, light bulbs, and snacks that hadn’t been touched. 

Gerard flashed a devilish grin at Frank, “You got any room, still?” Frank flushed but nodded and followed Gerard to the shelves.

They weren’t stocked with much, mostly just bags of salty snacks and a couple boxes of candy. When Frank threw his bag off onto the floor, he unzipped it quickly and shoved his hands in, feeling around to push the condoms into the back. He didn’t really want to raise any questions with a stranger. 

“Hey, you gonna help out?” Gerard was staring at Frank but his arms were out grabbing everything he could.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just rearranging stuff to fit everything.” Frank mentally patted himself on the back before hopping up to help Gerard. They were able to fit a couple of bags of nuts, sunflower seeds, a few different types of sour candy, a bottle of disinfectant plus a bottle of bleach stored in the water bottle pouches of Frank's duffel. Gerard collected as many cartons of cigarettes' as he could shove into all of his pockets.

Gerard exclaimed, “Yes!”, once they had finally gotten the zipper to the other end. Frank noticed the weight difference but was hoping Gerard would split the loot if he helped him out more.

Canisters were sitting in an opposing corner, Gerard was already making towards them before Frank had time to even stand. He threw the bag over his shoulder instead and followed. Each took two canisters and made their way outside. “Then we’ll know they have three more here if we lose these, or if someone steals them.” Gerard said casually as they made their way out of the gas station. 

“Unless someone comes here and finds them.” Frank argued as Gerard squatted and used a stray metal rod to pry the gas pump open. To Franks, inside looked like a lot of metal and copper rods. But Gerard reached into a side pouch on his duffel and pulled out a plastic tube. As he began yanking at different things in the gas pump, Frank realized he was holding a hand pump and within a few minutes Gerard had hooked the pump up and was beginning to pump for fuel.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’ve been at this for awhile…” Frank spoke without meaning to, but Gerard basically ignored him as gas began pumping through. He watched as Gerard skillfully switched the pump with a canister while barely spilling anything. 

Gerard smiled up at him. “So, we can just split everything once we get back to our place.” Frank sagged slightly with relief, his stomach was painfully empty, he would’ve accepted food even if it fell on the ground.

Frank stood and watched Gerard fill each canister as they mostly remained silent. Frank scouted around nearby corners at one point, but returned back to Gerard when nothing interesting was discovered. 

Eventually the gas stopped and the last canister was mostly full. Gerard capped it off and they left.

They pretended as though blasting someone's brains out meant nothing as they walked in silence back to the truck Frank stole barely three hours earlier.

Frank tossed his duffel into the backseat before crawling into the driver's side, he started the car's accessories and watched the gas level rise as Gerard dumped the not-yet-full canister into the truck. He slapped the outside of the driver's side door from the window when the needle reached the F.

The canister was empty. 

Gerard pulled open the back door and placed the empty canister onto the floor behind the passenger seat, leaving the door open as he lugged the last three canisters over. He placed them in a row behind the drivers seat on the floor, the seats hugged them together to prevent them from spilling.

Gerard slammed the door shut and rushed around the front to get into the passenger seat, Frank started the car. Gerard yanked the door open and used it to pull himself in. He flashed Frank a wide, toothy grin as Frank watched him in fear. It took him nearly a minute to snap back into his consciousness and shift the car into drive and begin driving through and out of town.

"Okay, turn up here," Gerard resisted against the seat belt as he pointed out the windshield, "it's gonna take awhile, and you're gonna think you're lost, but please trust me."

Even through Gerard’s greasy, shoulder length hair, and his coffee stained teeth, Frank felt a safety radiate from him.

Stop acting like a U-Haul lesbian, Frank. Pull yourself together. But he could not stop himself from sneaking glancing at Gerard when he got the chance.

[headcanons-no-jutsu]

Random Modern!AU headcanons

Characters: Levi, Jean, Reiner

Warnings: none

theme: clean

· Levi treats cleaning as a training session. Not only it helps him mentally because he feels calmer when everything’s in order, but he loves being physically tired afterwards. He kinda likes when his arms hurt badly when he’s done with cleaning all the windows. He’s satisfied that he can keep his physique sharp and his windows shining at one go. “Overtraining” himself during his Clean Saturdays actually lets him sleep better at night.

· He doesn’t let anyone know this but he actually has TikTok app installed. He thoughts it’s dumb at first but the moment the algorithm clicked with Levi’s cleaning obsession, he was sold. He saves a lot of videos about cleaning and then tests the tips in his free time. Many times they’re just bullshit and Levi can’t stop himself from leaving angry comments under the videos. He often ends up being the top commenter in many videos since his blunt criticism makes people laugh hysterically. He doesn’t understand why people find him this funny because he thinks his „shit” jokes are pretty pathetic.

theme: art

· Jean had this chaotic moment in his life when he decided he wanted to learn how to use all the art media. First he tried oil painting, but quickly switched to acrylics when he got pissed off. Then he bought pastels, watercolor and ink. Literally nothing worked for him because he was too hot-headed to keep going. He gave up and came back to sketching with a pencil. Eventually, he managed to watch some tutorial videos and became more patient when approaching new techniques and media. Sometimes he still throws the canvas out of the window though.

· He hates the fact that he likes to draw horses so much. He hates it with his whole heart and doesn’t admit it to anyone because the jokes would never end. But Jean can’t help it, he just really loves doodling horses. He finds something elegant about them. He always liked those animals - when he was reading fantasy novels or when he had his first own pony ride as a little boy. Also, he always admired the classical artists and the way they portrayed horses in their paintings. There’s just something. Elegant. About the horses. (And Jean likes to convince himself that his nickname means he’s elegant as well).

theme: soft

· Reiner used to be a gym guy but since he discovered yoga he completely switched his exercise routine. He does yoga everyday and meditates often. He realized it helps him with his depression and anxiety. He often follows the videos of some boho middle-aged ladies with soft and enouraging voices. He actually unconsciously learnt to speak like that. First, he started to just guide himself with a calm voice when doing his own exercises, but eventually he realized he talks to Gabi in the same tone. She still doesn’t understand why Reiner started to sound like a monk.

· Overall, Reiner’s very soft. He has a couple of beloved plants at his apartment and he likes to wear comfy oversized sweaters (it’s pretty difficult for him to find the oversized ones though… He often shops for them in thrift stores). His place is filled with blankets that he either couldn’t stop himself from buying or he got them from his family and friends (somehow they decided it’s the best Christmas gif for Reiner and it became a tradition). He doesn’t know what to do with them but when Gabi visits him, they end up building a blanket fort and sit inside for hours.

[pettyprocrastination]

Rip Out Our Seams and Stitch Us Together

Chapter One Word count: 1.9k Warnings: Uhhh brief talk of race, some language.  Chapter summary: You’re a seamstress in dc, with a tiny but successful shop run by your and your spunky cashier. Today you get a visitor that is far out of your usual demographic.

tag list: @captainsamwlsn @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @zeldasayer

(yes that’s a marilyn monroe pic she’s a major look for Valerie alright.)

Many believed that the eyes were the window to the soul, your father disagreed with that. He believed the truth of somebody's character was in their hands. 

“Shows a lot about them, little bee.” your father showed his own hands to you, wrinkled and scarred with tiny nics from years of work as a tailor. You were nine at the time, just last week you had completed your first sundress! You spent your afternoons after school in the shop with your father, doing whatever he asked. “-If they're a hard worker or if they don’t do anything at all. These little fellas will show you just that.” He wiggled his fingers at you before poking at your stomach, causing you to burst into a fit of giggles.

Twenty five years later and his words still ring true. When you first meet somebody, you don’t look at their clothes, or their smile, or even their eyes. You look for their character in their hands. 

So the moment the tiny bell rang at your shop door, your eyes were taken away from the pinned gown in front of you and towards the lithe fingers wrapped around the door handle. 

Manicured nails painted a deep red, fingers daintily curled, skin unscarred and void of all blemishes. Absolutely perfect. 

Who would expect any less of Maxwell Lord’s wife?

Your only other employee, Cassandra, a sweet sixteen year old girl you hired to watch the register and sweep floors, squeaked. 

“Hello,” She lifted the sunglasses from her face and set them utop her blonde curls. Her eyes zeroed in on you with an analytical gaze. In comparison to her floor length  fur coat and satin blouse, you suddenly felt flushed in your ripped trousers and patterned button up. “Are you the owner?” She put such infliction on each word you couldn’t tell if she was judging your store or the fact that you owned it.

Either way you felt like you were supposed to be offended. 

“That I am.” 

She slid her coat off, looking at your coat rack with a wrinkled nose before finally setting it on the hook. She walked around your store, taking in the little knick-knacks that lined the counter and the racks of clothing with a judgmental eye. 

Her eyes flicked to Cassandra, who still stood behind the register with her jaw dropped open. 

Mrs.Lord smiled and tapped the underside of her chin and she snapped her mouth shut. 

“You made all of these yourself?” Her voice was smooth like silk, but had a sharp edge to it. You felt as if you were waiting to embarrass yourself in front of her. She took a white sundress into her hands, feeling the fabric between her fingers. 

“Most of them.” You answered. She froze and raised a sculpted brow.

“Most?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Some of these are thrift store finds, just altered and restyled.” Her ruby lips bent into a frown, glaring at the dress she held with disappointment. 

“That one is an original though.”

She stared at the dress for a moment, face scrunched up in thought before she regained her cool composure and tossed it to you over her shoulder, which landed on your face. “Be a dear and hold that for me, would you?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer. By the time you lifted the lace that obscure your vision, she was already looking at another dress. You followed behind her. 

Why the hell not? You thought to yourself as she handed you a satin blouse. You didn’t have any other customers at the moment, and you aren't being met with for a design consultation for another three hours. 

Besides, how often is it that Valerie fucking Lord walks into your store like a frequent customer?

She continued to walk around your store, red heels echoing throughout as she stopped at certain dresses and tops (mostly those of silk or lace) to admire them, before either adding them to the growing pile in your arms, or setting them back on the rack with a sour look. The entire time she did, you wondered what it was that drew in her to your tiny shop. 

The woman before you had been a big deal since she was born. Before she was Valerie Lord, she was Valerie Ackkerman. Her father had been a Hollywood director in the fifties who married an up and coming actress hot to the scene. The couple dominated the big screen and became a loved pair to America, that is until her mother got a baby bump, got demoted to supporting roles for the rest of her career, and her father continued to go on and  make films many to this day still consider iconic. 

You considered most of them to be a racist and misogynist, but you suppose they were simply a product of their time. 

And a shitty director. 

Valerie Ackkerman became Dr.Ackkerman, psychiatrist with multiple books surrounding a vast majority of subjects that can affect one’s mental state. Such as greed, fame, and the lack of proper paternal figures to shape your childhood.

Which made her choice in marriage all the more ironic. 

Maxwell Lord the fourth was a man as American as apple pie and the corporate greed that came as a table side. He’d taken over his father’s company at the ripe age of sixteen at his passing, having been groomed for the position since he was a child. 

Maxwell Lord was known as a ruthless tycoon, a tech mogul who will smile wide in his commercials before making a grown man cry in his boardroom. His wife was just as feared as him and seeing her before you now, you perfectly understood why. She was prettier than sin itself and just as rich. Which begged the question…

Why in God’s name was she in your shop?

“How long have you been sewing?” A floor length skirt with a slit up the leg was tossed in your arms. 

“Since I can remember.” Her fingers ghosted along the hangers before plucking a pink slip dress off the rack and holding it up against her body. “My father was a tailor. He taught me everything he knew.” She turned to the mirror on the other side of the room and looked at her reflection while smoothing out the fabric of the dress. “When he passed away I took over the shop, but I basically ran it already.”

She chuckled, shaking her head as if your father's death had tickled her so. “Sounds like somebody I know.”  Mrs. Lord turned to you, the dress pressed against her body. “Thoughts?”

Your eyes roamed over her body as you tried to form sentences, but nothing came out in fear of saying the wrong thing in front of a woman so powerful, she could burn your shop to the ground with a single call to her husband. 

Beautiful. You wanted to say. And terrifying. 

“It suits you.” 

She turned back to the mirror, her eyes focused on your reflection instead of her own. She tilted her head to the side and hummed. You felt like you were on display, being examined, picked apart and analyzed by the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen in your life. 

“I know.”

When she walked past you to the register and you got a waft of her perfume, something sharp and citrusy, most likely belonging to a brand you wouldn’t dream of wearing. 

Cassandra rang her up in silence, nervously looking up from each item to the woman standing in front of her. Her hands trembled so bad you could see the fabric shake when she picked them up. 

You would have taken over for her, but  you were trying to ignore the burning sensation in your face at her judgmental gaze. You’d seen it all before, from women like her. Rich, white, beautiful, and privileged as all hell. You knew the way her eyes scanned your clothes, critiquing your curls, the cut of your jeans and the pattern of your button up that lay partially open against your chest. 

You wish you could say you were sick of it. But mostly? You just didn’t give a shit. 

Cassandra’s shaking hands dropped the bag into the floor before it reached Valarie’s, she looked about ready to cry before you stepped in. 

“Oh god I’m so-”

“It’s fine Cassie.” Her red lips snapped shut at your interjection and blase tone. 

You swiped the plastic bag and held it out to the woman with a neutral face.“Eighty-nine fifty.” You told her. She looked at you as if you had grown a second head. 

She must not be used to being treated like something other than royalty. 

But that look was replaced by a coy smile. She took the plastic bag full of clothes from your hands and handed you a thick wad of cash that was well over the amount she owed. Red, manicured nails trailing down your palm as she did. 

You suppressed a shudder. 

“You know-” She took the lace sundress out of her bag, thumb trailing along the seam. “-Your work is on par with some of the brands I wear.” You weren’t sure why the sight of her stroking something you made felt so damn intimate, but you felt like you needed to look away as if you were interrupting something.“-Maybe even better than them.”

Christ, you needed to get out more. 

“Well yeah.” You shrugged matter of factly and crossed your arms. “That’s because I’m driven by artist integrity. Not making some shoddy dress and slapping a fancy brand on it, in hopes that some trust fund baby will wear it to her next yacht party.”

The moment those words left your lips you realized you had said them to the wealthiest customer you ever had. 

Who laughed. 

Cassandra went pale as a sheet while you spoke, looking between you and the woman worth more than your entire store like she expected an explosion. 

Mrs. Lord smiled at you. “We’ll you're right about that. I have to agree.” Her hands ran down the side of the dress and stopped when she felt a fold in the white fabric. “Are these-”

“Pockets?” You grinned, like it was your greatest achievement. Honestly? It kind of was. “Sure are. Decently sized ones too, can fit your whole hand in and everything.” To prove your point, the heiress stuck her entire hand into the pocket and wiggled it with a laugh. 

“There’s still more room in it!” She sounded so in awe and excited, it reminded you of a child on Christmas. 

Her joy was infectious. 

“Every dress I make has pockets, it’s sort of like my signature.”

“Every dress?”

You drew an X over your heart. “Stitches guarantee.”

Mrs. Lord grinned. “You're certainly one of a kind miss...”

You told her your name, and she repeated it back. The way she said it made it sound like the brand name of a thousand dollar purse. 

“But you can call me stitches.” You said simply. “Everybody does.”

Cassandra looked at you with wide eyes, shocked that you went from accidentally insulting her to being chummy enough to share the silly nickname you got from customers. 

“Do they now?” She walked to the coat rack and slipped her jacket on. “Well tell me this, Stitches-” Mrs.Lord took the glasses off the top of her head and slid them over her eyes. “Do you do commission work?”

You blinked for a moment. “Well I do, but-”

She squealed and clapped her hands. “Oh perfect! We’ll be in touch then.”

“Wait-” You faltered, trying to run from behind the counter after her, but all you succeeded in doing was banging your hip against the corner. “Fuck! Who’s we?”

“Oh don’t you worry about that.” She opened the door and looked over her shoulder. “One more thing though, do you make suits as well?”

A/n:SHE’S HERE BABY WOOOOO. Iv’e been talking headcanons with @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa for like a week and a half now about this bad boy and im so excited to get the ball rolling! I love max and i love poly ships so HERE WE ARE Valerie lord owns my ass yall. Anyways please don’t feel shy to send me messages about these babes, asks, critiques or just come say hello! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list, i hope you all have a good and safe day <3

[gretavanfleetposts]

How’s it going? Please, can i also have a ship?~ I’m an Aries, I’m 5’-5’1ish. I have long wavy natural brown hair, hazel eyes. I’m of italian descent. I enjoy painting and dream of becoming a writer. I love flowers and I love music, from all genres, from all around the world and all time periods. Go-to songs would probably be anything Bob Dylan. I’m very much an introvert, painfully shy… so I usually keep company with extreme extroverts! A favorite book… I’ll have to say fight club cause that’s one that really stuck with me and I enjoyed the plot, writing style and the characters a lot. I like to watch documentaries. I only shop second hand, I love dresses or big t-shirt so that I can walk around bare legs and barefoot. I’m a worrier but I live that hippie/boho lifestyle xD I like other peoples pets, but I love kids and i’d rather have 10 babies then a pet of my own. I’m a super picky eater, but I prefer vegan dishes, I don’t eat takeout ever, only food I cook myself. I also make and mix my own herbal teas, I love liquorice candy. I don’t drink any alcohol or any pop/fizzydrinks. An ideal date would probably be something really simple, as long as there is vibe, I prefer someone who is not afraid or bothered by taking the lead.

thank you so much~

Hey there!

❤: First of all, you sound gorgeous and really down to earth. I can totally picture the hippie/boho lifestyle you're talking about and I love that. And you seem so artistic too! I love how many artsy people there are in this community. I appreciate the fact that you always cook too. I bet you're an amazing cook if for no other reason than the sheer amount of practice you've had!

Ship: Josh ☀

dBecause: I think you and Josh give off very similar vibes. Maybe he's way more talkative but his extrovertedness sounds perfect for you. He would love to cook with you and make tea with you. And I think he might even be on the same page about the babies too. I can see the two of you going thrifting together, each picking out pieces for the other to try on. He would be right there with you living that hippie/boho lifestyle.

Scenario:

For your first date, Josh had suggested the two of you go thrifting

He thought it was a great way to get to know someone. He was convinced that the items people picked out at a thrift store said a lot about who they were as a person

It was like a window into their mind and he was eager to get to know yours

He took you to his favorite thrift store

It was filled with vintage 70's pieces

Everything in the store just seemed so Josh

It was like he belonged there

He fit right in with the mannequins

The two of you browsed for a while

Occasionally one of you would hold up a rather absurd piece of clothing for the other to giggle at

After two hours of browsing, each of you had amassed an armful of clothing to try on

He insisted on a fashion show, wanting to see each individual piece you had tried on

There were a few colorful tops and many pairs of billowy pants, all of which you felt neutral about despite Josh seeming to love them all

Finally you got to the end of your try-on pile, a beautiful, long, floral boho dress

You slipped it on, admiring yourself for a moment in the mirror before pushing the door open once again to show Josh

He looked you up and down for a moment, speechless

It was the quietest he had been since the date had started

Maybe the quietest he had ever been

Finally he spoke

"You look amazing," he breathed out

You blushed at his compliment and how breathless he seemed at just the sight of you

You were definitely taking this one home with you

I hope you liked it! Thank you for the request!

-⭐

get shipped here!

[malebodyinvasion]

Ron and the Wooden Sculpture - Part 1

Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

I was extremely tired from work last week and asked my boss for a day-off. Since my performance was top notch, he gave me a week off from work. I planned to play all the games gathering dust in my online library.

I decided to get groceries myself. Normally, I just order them online and have them deliver to my doorsteps. It's been a while I had a walk from home to the supermarket and it would be a nice exercise. There were lots of shops and cafes along the way, and new ones replaced my usual hangout places. 

On my way home, there was this suspicious antique shop besides my favorite pastry shop. It was not there before. While waiting for my order, I decided to pay this antique shop a visit. There were vintage dolls, steampunk wall clocks, old-school vinyl records, and many more. The one thing that got my attention the most is this statue of a guy wearing something cultural from an ethnic group. Each part is sculptured well which captures a male body's anatomy perfectly. The curves, the edges, everything. It's like a real person turned into a piece of wood. I knew it was a wooden statue but it's turning me on harder than my morning wood. Dad jokes aside, I'm really interested.

Suddenly, the shopkeeper appeared out of nowhere. It's an old lady wearing a black cloth robe like that one of fictional games. This just adds to the weirdness of the shop.

"It's a fine work," I said as I try my best to hide the horniness between my legs.

"Indeed." She replied. "It is made from a very special tree which only grows from Asia."

"That was very informative and... and... mysterious," I stuttered. "Iz... Is it for sale?"

"Yes, that's why it's on display," the shopkeeper retorted. Stay cool there, granny. I'm just asking.

"By how much?" I asked.

"Well, it depends." She replied in a calm voice. Did she just hear my thoughts?

"It depends?"

"Since it's been a while someone decided to buy something that is not a lucky charm or a scented candle, I'll give you a discount." Then she told me the price. It's reasonable for a good quality display and it's much cheaper than those limited edition figurines I bought online.

"I'm feeling good today so I'll take it!" I said on impulse. If she only knew, the reason I'm buying this sculpture is because I'm getting pumped by just looking at it. I'll just tell my parents when they visit that I'm feeling artsy and want to support artists.

I paid her cash and she told me that her grandson will deliver the sculpture later. Her grandson, huh. I'm actually imagining that it looks like an adventurer or a mage just for consistency's sake. Sorry for being judgmental granny!

Before I leave, the old shopkeeper told me, "Let him bathe under the moonlight. Once he recover from his deep slumber, he will serve you well."

"Ah... Thank you... very much!" That was really weird. It's like one of those lines of flavor texts in video games. But honestly, I can't help to interpret it in a lewd way.

I picked up my order from the pastry shop. It smells so good and tasty. I dropped by one of the thrift stores I frequent in college and bought some clothes and a couple of bulb and socket to put near the wooden sculpture I bought earlier. I run across some of my college classmates on my way home. We exchange conversations and ended up eating lunch together.

Time passed by and I remembered that the statue will be delivered later today. I bid goodbye to my classmates and hurriedly walk. Outside the apartment building, was a truck with the statue covered with bubble wraps and a huge cloth.

"You're Ron I presume," a dude, which is likely in early 20's, asked me before pointing fingers to the statue. "My mother told me to bring this guy at this address and she perfectly describes how you look."

"Ah, yes. That's me." I answered excitedly. Wow, this dude looks exactly what I imagined, minus the weird clothing. He wears a normal T-shirt, a normal pants, and a pair of normal shoes. He is perfectly normal, different than his grandmother. His voice is kind of cute and sexy.

"Good." He remarked. "Can you stop staring at me?"

"Sorry."

"I already have an idea of what's on your mind. It's the clothes, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"My grandmother is really weird on her own way. Well, she's a... " he stopped. "Anyway, on what floor and room should I carry this statue?"

"Room 807, at 8th floor, " I answered but his face looks like he doesn't like what he just heard. "Don't worry. There's an elevator in the lobby!"

"O-okay."

He followed me to the elevator. I like to help him but I have groceries and the pastry in my arms. I can see his muscles popping up while carrying that statue. The more I look at him, the more I realize his handsome appearance.

"Let's go." I pressed the buttons and the elevator closes. It's just the two of us in this small space, well, it's three if I count the statue. I'm getting another boner thinking about it. "By the way, what's your name? I'm Ron as you already know," I bravely asked.

"Aldrin... You can call me Aldrin, yeah," he replied nervously. What's wrong with this guy and he suddenly starts shaking. I'm not a beast that will randomly jump at you. You're also weird on your own way, dude.

The elevator rang as a sign we're already on the 8th floor. I paced towards my doorstep and opened the door. "Can you put him over there, near the sofa bed?"

"Sure," then he entered my apartment. I could see him looking at my action figures on the shelves as he walked towards the bed. "You... You're quite a collector yourself."

"Ah, yes. I bought then if I feel like it," I tried to wave it off with a nervous laugh. Seeing him inside my room makes my growing member harder.

"This guy will be your first life-size. Take good care of him, yeah?" He said as he tap the statue's shoulder. I’ll take good care of the statue, of course. He may not be an action figure but I still spent some money.

"I will and thank you." I offered him a drink but he declined so I gave him some tip for helping me out. He supposed not to accept it but I insisted.

"Th... Thank you." He said as he left my room. "Ba... By the way, did my grandmother tell you anything about the statue?"

"Yes. She told something about moonbathing the statue. Is there a problem?"

"No... Nothing. I'll be going then."

"Alright. Thanks again."

I closed the door. I'm still horny, the heck. Thinking about Aldrin and looking at the statue gives me shivers down my spine. I lay down over the sofa bed and removed my pants and underwear freeing my "more harder" member. There were already signs of precum on its tip. I am in good shape, but not as good as the statue of well-defined pecs and abs or as muscular as Aldrin. I put my right hand over my chest and pinch my nipple as my left hand moved up and down my boner.

No, this is not enough. I get off my bed and stand half-naked before the wooden sculpture. I caressed its smooth hardy abs and pecs while still pounding my meat with my other hand. Due to my short stature, I raised my heels and lean towards for a kiss. I might look crazy for romancing an inanimate object but I'm enjoying it.

My body is tensing up. I could feel the build up in my dick and any moment I shall reach my climax. I lean more forward feeling the sculpture's varnished skin against my own. I feel so hot and euphoric.

"Aahhh...!" I moaned and let my imagination run wild, and streams of pure ecstasy shoots out towards the statue's legs, sliding down to its feet. "It's been a while since the last time I did this, huh. Thanks to you Mr. Statue."

I wiped off the cum with my T-shirt and wear a pair of boxer shorts. I need to put off the things I bought and prepare for dinner. I looked at the statue again and wondered what's the real meaning behind the granny said.

"I think the food can wait. I'll take a nap for now."

[folerdetdufoler]

you know, it’s really easy to pack when the only criterion is if the clothes actually fit. that’s an upside to all of this weight gain i guess, that i could toss all of my usable clothing into a suitcase and not have to figure out outfits and weather and festival looks. just...everything must go. so i packed and got to the airport and everything went smoothly, much smoother than last time, and i had a row to myself and sas had a new selection of movies and it was a great start to another trip. i didn’t sleep, though. i watched those new movies and then i watched the sunrise and then it was wednesday and i was in oslo. boom.

i took the train into the city and messaged jasmine to meet up. i’d gotten my days confused and she had off so the first sight i was going to see would be her. i checked my bags at the hotel and picked up a ruter card and found her in the station. silvia joined shortly after and we group hugged, the first of many many good group hugs i would have over the next few days. then...we walked.

we visited a few thrift stores for some casual shopping. jasmine had been hunting for some skam outfits online for me, and we wanted to see if any of them were available in the kinds of shops where the costumes originally came from. we found a few of even’s jackets at robot, which we laughed way too hard about, but we both already own it so we moved on.

mostly we just walked and talked though. we picked up where we left off on the internet, and then filled in the details of whatever we hadn’t seen go down on twitter. we spilled tea all over grünerløkka. we paused while silvia had a phone interview for a new job, and then we went and got lunch to celebrate the fact that she was getting a new job! we went to cafe amsterdam, which i thought i’d never been to but actually that’s where i saw the scripts for the first time, last winter, with josefin! anyway, we got drinks and food and jasmine tried to convince me that french fries with peanut sauce was a thing and yeah, i tasted it, but i remain unconvinced. i learned about some cool dutch things though, the other half of jasmine’s world, and lined up some delicacies that i need to try on my next visit.

then we went back to the hotel so i could shower. the weather had been really nice throughout all of our walking, and i was hoping it would hold out for the festival. we kept talking while i unpacked and figured out what i would need for the park. and we weren’t really doing anything but it was just really nice to be able to talk about skam, too, with people who understand the show like you do. like, once we were done gossiping about the fandom, we got down to the nitty gritty of just appreciating how amazing the show is and how it brought this city to life for all of us.

it felt a little like my dashboard come to life, where it’s just my friends and all of the shit i didn’t want to hear about was muted and blocked and i could step outside and get a sense of perspective immediately. maybe i love going to oslo so much because it seamlessly blends my internet life and the real world and the fantasy of the show all in one place and time.

but okay, moving on. i was refreshed and had stuffed a blanket in my backpack and figured out where i would be going. jasmine and silvia showed me how to get to tøyenparken after some false starts, and then we parted ways for the day. after some frantic texting i found nadège in line and we traded our tickets for bracelets. jenn and haidee found us and then it was on. baby’s first music festival!

the park was both big and small, much like a lot of how i saw oslo. we got our bearings (and by we i mean everyone else figured out where we were and i just followed along, trusting them blindly). they figured out the cup situation and i got one pepsi max and one cider. this is how i would survive the festival. they also got food and then we figured out the stages we needed to be at. we sat and ate in front of the main stage, then stood for james blake’s set. i don’t think i’ve ever listened to him before, so it was a nice, casual afternoon of discovering new music. a bit of rain started, so the blanket became a makeshift poncho. after his set i think we walked around a bit? or got more to drink? then it was back to the stage to wait for the cure.

i’ve never listened to any of wednesday’s artists, actually, which was a good way to ease into the festival, i think. i wasn’t pressuring myself to see anyone in particular, and i could just follow along and get used to the whole atmosphere. big crowds and strange experiences would be a pretty anxiety-inducing thing for me, but i trusted the women i was with and tried to pay attention, to learn how to go with everyone else’s flow. we tried to sit closer to the stage for the cure, and watched as the crowd gathered, the goths convened. as more people came we eventually had to stand up, lest we get trampled. i was so very tired at this point, but it would’ve been silly to get through the whole day and then tap out right before the main event.

we packed into the crowd. to my left was a very enthusiastic singer and dancer, and he knew all of the lyrics and steadily jumped to the beat, hammering it out with his elbow on my tit (i was much shorter than most of the crowd, so we saw a lot of arms and shoulders this trip). as grumpy and tired as i was, it was nice being on the edge of his vibe. he was here for a band that he loved and fuck anyone who wasn’t going to let him enjoy that. i wasn’t going to be that person. so i planted my feet and simply tried to stay standing, taking in this whole festival experience. and robert smith’s hair.

i held up my phone to record the opening of “friday i’m in love,” not because i knew the song per se, but as a tribute to that one instagram story of tarjei singing along at the photoshoot for the interview...interview. it’s cute, watching the video now, and hearing the moment when the crowd realizes what song they’re singing, hearing when hearts begin to soar. it’s that collective thrill, the realization that something you love is starting, when you’re paused at the top of a roller coaster, when someone yells, “clip!”

it was good being back in the crowd for that.

the cure played for like, two and a half hours. my feet were going to fall off. at the end we just kind of...bumped along with the crowd to the exit, and got our bearings for the city at night. as tired as i was, there was still some concert adrenaline, and that was going to carry me all the way back to the hotel. we group hugged and i was happy for everyone, nadège in particular, who got to experience their favorite band play live in a city that they love. we said good night because it was a good night.

i followed a crowd down to the river. it slowly thinned out, and then i was close enough to the hotel to figure that out on my own. i had enough energy and sense to hang up the blanket when i got back, to dry out overnight, but in reality it was too heavy to carry it for another afternoon on my feet. it would remain hanging on the wall for the rest of my trip. it had served us well, though. i collapsed into bed, caught up on the internet (somehow you always have energy for one last scroll through all of your apps) and set my alarm for the sunrise.

[jaz0516]

Vienna, Austria

Hallo , ladies, men and my nonbinary friends (thank you Jenna Marbles for giving me my introduction sentence), today I will be discussing Vienna, Austria. Its artistic and intellectual legacy was shaped by residents including Mozart, Beethoven and Sigmund Freud. The city is also known for its Imperial palaces, including Schönbrunn.

The best time to visit Vienna is from April to May or September to October. The mild weather in spring and fall brings little crowds. Most visitors aim to enjoy the warm, sunny weather that Vienna experiences in the summer months. Between June and August, you can expect the city to fill up and room rates to rise.

April-May

Average temperatures range from the 40s to the high 60s. Although it is a bit chilly, spring is a great time to visit. The tourism season is just kicking off, so you won't have to worry about long lines at top attractions or inflated prices at hotels.

June-August

This is the most popular time to visit thanks to warm weather and plenty of fun-filled events. Temperatures in the 70s make for a great sightseeing atmosphere. Hotel rates during this season are definitely pricey and availability is extremely low.

September-October

Average highs fluctuate between the mid-40s and high 60s. As the temperatures drop, so do the hotel prices. It's a good idea to book your hotel at least three weeks in advance.

November-March

Average highs rest in the mid-30s and 40s. Even with the colder temperatures, Vienna sees another surge of tourism during the winter. Many Europeans head to Vienna for their wintertime festivities.

Before visiting a new location it’s best to familiarize yourself with it. Some important information to know includes:

Neubau (also known as the seventh district) is the pulse of Vienna’s creative culture, a popular settling ground for artists and young people. It’s teeming with big-name retail, but more importantly, Neubau houses the city’s best vinyl shops, thrift stores, wine taverns, smoky cafes, and no-frills restaurants. Make sure to stop by.

Because the U-bahn and public transport system has no barriers or turnstiles, it may seem like it’s run on a city-wide honor system. But don’t be tempted into avoiding the fare–the whole grid is lousy with undercover ticket inspectors. 

Opening hours in much of the city–and most places outside of Vienna–remain old-fashioned and Catholic, thanks to lobbying by the Austrian Catholic church and small business owners, so there is very little to buy after weekdays 6pm and on Sundays.

Austrians have a reputation–sometimes deserved–as some of Europe’s rudest and most impatient drivers, but they also place a lot of value on old-fashioned etiquette. Handshakes are important; don’t be the person with the limp handshake. Greet people when you are out walking in the countryside. Don’t put your feet on bus seats, don’t spit, don’t chew gum loudly or litter, and maintain public decorum, not least because older women in fur coats will not hesitate to shame you in public. 

The Wiener Prater is awesome. It’s like having a carnival and Disneyland in town all the time; it’s free to get in so you can just walk around to see the sights, and there are rarely lines. The theme park, comprising 20 square blocks and open to the public, has old-school ghost trains, mazes, water slides, halls of mirrors, and pony rides.

Vienna has various places to visit filled with culture and excitement. Consider visiting:

Hofburg is perhaps the most historically significant of Vienna's palaces. The official seat of the Austrian President, this sprawling complex consists of numerous buildings reflecting various periods, including architectural flourishes from the Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, and Rococo movements. The complex covers 59 acres with 18 groups of buildings, including 19 courtyards and 2,600 rooms. Its main attractions are the Imperial Apartments, the Sisi Museum, and the Silver Collection.

Schönbrunn Palace (Schloss Schönbrunn) is worth visiting not only for its magnificent architecture, but also for its beautiful park-like setting. One of Vienna's top tourist attractions, this Baroque palace contains more than 1,441 rooms and apartments, including those once used by Empress Maria Theresa. Tour highlights include a chance to see the Imperial Apartments, including Emperor Franz Joseph's Walnut Room and his Bedroom, which still has the small soldier's bed in which he died.

St. Stephen's Cathedral (Stephansdom) sits in the historic center of Vienna. The original 12th-century Romanesque church was replaced by a Late Romanesque one in the 13th century, the remains of which are the massive gate and the Heathen Towers (Heidentürme). 

Belvedere Palace is really two splendid Baroque buildings: the Lower (Unteres) Belvedere and the Upper (Oberes) Belvedere. Highlights of the Upper Palace include the Ground Floor Hall, with its statues, and the Ceremonial Staircase, with its rich stucco relief and frescoes. Also worth seeing is the Marble Hall, a stunning two-story hall with numerous period sculptures, paintings, and ceiling frescoes. The Lower Palace also boasts a Marble Hall, this one noted for its oval plaster medallions and rich ceiling fresco, as well as a Marble Gallery built to house a collection of historic statues. 

Vienna State Opera House (Wiener Staatsoper) has hosted many of the world's most prominent composers, conductors, soloists, and dancers. Operatic and ballet performances are staged at least 300 times a year, fuelled by an obsession with music that goes as far back as 1625 when the first Viennese Court Opera was performed. The current massive Opera House was built in 1869 and is notable for its French Early Renaissance style, while interior highlights include a grand staircase leading to the first floor, the Schwind Foyer (named after its paintings of famous opera scenes), and the exquisite Tea Room with its valuable tapestries.

Overall:

Vienna seems like a very beautiful place to visit. I am excited to see all the various locations and experience the culture in person.

Sources:

https://travel.usnews.com/Vienna_Austria/When_To_Visit/ https://www.planetware.com/tourist-attractions-/vienna-a-w-vie.htm https://roadsandkingdoms.com/2014/15-things-to-know-before-you-go-vienna/

[lyricsbylincoln]

-̗̀ —   “ i come bearing edible encouragement. ”  lincoln moves to set the cooke tray onto the countertop, but he can so much as blink, whole thing clatters to the ground. a musical laugh bubbles past upturned lips. “ crap. clearly, i am incapable of being slick. so now we’ll just have to make due with encouragement of the verbal variety, huh? ”

or alternatively :  whaddup, my dudes !!  it is linc comin’ atchu with my songwriter beb #2, LINCOLN MONROE .  you know what to do! don’t forget to like, subscribe, and leave a comment below !

(KEIYNAN LONSDALE, CISMALE, HE/HIM) i hear LINCOLN MONROE has a link to ALL OF THE BANDS. the TWENTY-FOUR year old is a SONGWRITER, apparently. he's so PACIFIC and CHATOYANT, but can also be kind of TRACTABLE and INGENUOUS. i hope he finds success with the band. i'm kinda interested in hearing more about them. 

gonna format this v simply in bullets this time, since i have to leave for work relatively soon & i wanna get it out here!

lincoln grew up in upstate new york after being adopted by kirsten & peter monroe when he was just an infant. they provided a very stable, lovely home. like?? his mother was the unofficial Neighborhood Mom. all the kids were always at the monroe household, sippin’ kool aids, snackin’ on homemade cookies. kirsten monroe is literally the ultimate affectionate, beautiful soul. in fact, when lincoln was 4, she convinced her husband to adopt lincoln’s adopted sister after her family was killed in a housefire three towns over. she’s about six months older than him, and honestly would be a lovely addition to the rp if y’all wanted to bring her in? essentially after the monroes adopted her, she and lincoln grew positively inseparable. 

lincoln expressed an interest in dance by the time he turned 5, so his parents eagerly enrolled him in dance lessons! pretty soon he hopped studios to a competitive school and began competing in contemporary/ballet dance competitions.

then came a full-ride scholarship to a performing arts high school in new york city. his parents weren’t going to say no  ( the monroe’s are characteristic people-pleasers )  so they made the three-hour drive to the city & dropped lincoln off for his first year. many tears were shed, hugs were exchanged, and his mother made lincoln promise not to forget about them back home. he’d skype them every freakin’ night.

at this school, lincoln became captain of the contemporary / hip hop dance team. they took national and international titles like they were kids in a candy store. this squad was insane. and with lincoln’s choreo, the awards just kept on coming. after he graduated, lincoln auditioned for the traveling cast of the wiz and snagged an ensemble role. he traveled with the cast for seven months until he decided it was time to put down some roots on the west coast.

at this point, all was well at home. he continued his daily contact with his family, and the monroe group chat was always booming. so lincoln didn’t think to suspect anything was going on at home beyond the usual. his mother spoke about neighborhood baking parties; his father spoke about the work he was doing at the state house as attorney general. all was well.

( tw: illness, hospitals, terminal diagnoses )  the phone call came on the eve before his 21st birthday, after the opening night performance of rent at los angeles theater. kirsten was in the hospital. she’d collapsed while helping to set up for the local church’s benefit concert. his father wouldn’t disclose much information beyond that lincoln should not fly home. against his better judgment, lincoln finished out the two-week run of rent before booking a ticket back to new york. he expected his mother to be out of the hospital by that time, and she’d indicated as much over the phone.

when lincoln’s plane touched down, no one was there to pick him up. kirsten was back in the er -- but lincoln only found that out by pressuring his sister until she caved and told him what was really going on:  three months ago, kirsten had been diagnosed with stage 3 leukemia. and no one in the family had thought to give lincoln a proper notice. 

kirsten was in and out of treatment for several years, reaching short periods of remission before her levels went awry again. lincoln visited home when he could, but once he began booking more consistent jobs, the cross-country flights became more difficult. he still talks on the phone to his mother each and every day, and will absolutely cancel plans to check in on her if need be.

i imagine he started songwriting as side thing, something to post online for fun back in college while he was studying composition? and his youtube channel probably gained lots of steam. following one of his larger runs in the la theatre scene, he was probably approached about entering a professional contract for a song for one of the groups. and he was probably elated about the prospect. 

since then, he’s been contracted for all of the groups, with pieces ranging from pandemonium’s chaotic rock to dream tsunami’s sunny electro-pop vibe. lincoln plays a grand total of twelve instruments & he’s always generating new material.

in addition to songwriting for these groups, he’s also an up-and-coming solo artist himself!! he performs at open mics, local coffee shops, etc. while also uploading things to youtube/soundcloud and performing in la-based theatre productions!

lincoln is ebullient -- his presence practically effervesces wherever he is. he’s always ready to shine, as cliché as that might be. he’s just got this heart full of love and joy and optimism and he’s eager to share.

currently has bleach-blonde hair, because it’s super cool. 

so speaking of that popular youtube channel! there, he’ll post choreographed routines to his favorite songs, little covers, original pieces, and vlogs with the bands he works with. fans probably eat it up and constantly ask for more.

his dancing. gah.  this boy just loses himself in it. catch him at a bjéar concert all-out contemporary/interpretive dancing in the crowd. frick, music just.... consumes him.

his favorite color is green!! why?? does he need to have a reason???

he takes his coffee with whipped coconut cream on top, garnished with a dash of nutmeg & cinnamon. he always gets lil whipped cream mustaches, and he’ll apologize every time.

apologizes a shit ton. will apologize for apologizing, and then apologize for doing so. it’s a spiral. someone stop him.

he’s all easy smiles & spring breezes, the cleared air after rain. it’s very difficult to get him angry, and some people ( cough nikolai cough ) find that absolutely infuriating.

cannot hide when he falls in love.

falls in love once every 30 seconds.

absolutely goes to florist shops to check in on the owners, ask about their favorite memories, and smell the roses. maybe he accidentally nose boops the flowers sometimes. it’s okay. it’s all part of the experience.

allergic to shellfish & negative vibes !!!

speaks fluent french. bonjour, my dudes

blushes v easily !!  will duck his head and smile so wide. compliment him & watch the magic

lowkey voiced prince naveen in the princess and the frog ... ribbit

some examples of original work he’s performed in the area / uploaded online:    x    x    x    x     x       

lincoln is that friend who’ll show up for you, even at 4am, with takeout and a shoulder to lean on. going through a bad time? he’s the one you should call.

lowkey fashion icon ???  let him take you thrifting.

if you get sound bite previews, you’re one of The Trusted Few.

at berklee, he was lauded by his professors and fellow students -- there’s a reason this guy can write so diversely. he’s virtuosic. he’s not afraid to make major leaps. catch him tossing unconventional chords into conventional genres, because the music industry needs a spark and he feels honored to be able to contribute.

you know how some people give birthday letters or cards? lincoln writes original birthday songs. every year. yep.

volunteers at a local dog shelter.

i would love a roomie for him? pls?

i seriously want all the connections so pls hmu on discord or here!! ily all sorry this is such trash on a stick

[iolyne]

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40

ok answers should be under the cut

1. who’s your celebrity crush?

I dont know i guess i would say lorde??? i love her so much

2. are you single or taken?

im single!!!!!!!! haha!! but im not looking 2 be a girlfriend right now ;-;

3. rant. just do it

uh ive almost been in 3 accidents today???? people keep driving right towards me? is my car invisibe or some shit????? im right fucking here learn how to drive im so mad!! and im a nervous driver and i never honk my horn so i just. slam on my brakes and they just never notice they almost slammed into me i guess. anyways fuck everyone who drives in florida i hate this shit

4. do you think its ok to separate the artist from the art?

i think it really depends on the art itself and what the artist has done.  artists always put a piece of themselves into what they create and i think you can always see that.  like,,, one of my favorite bands is the smiths but morrissey is a piece of shit.  I wouldnt listen to bowie though ?? i think it depends on what the artist believes in/has done as well :0

5. how many accounts do you have?

HAHA uh i have 7 active blogs on here and i have like. 11 urls im holding. im gonna get rid of some soon but a couple im holding for a certain time :/

6. how many pairs of shoes do you have?

uhhh i wanna say like 12 but im sure im forgetting some :o

7. u didnt specify anything so 

8. how many accounts do you follow?

too many!!!!! i need to unfollow a lot !

9. favorite brand of clothing?

i dont know i just thrift shop im poor!!! i like adidas like pants and bags and shoes?? 

10. name a dog

Machiavelli 

11. what unusual talent do you have?

im not talented! im good at rhythm games i guess i dont know :(

12. what’s the most interesting schools gossip you’ve ever heard?

uh idk about an affair between 3 of my high school teachers

13. ever prank called a store?

no

14. what’s your coffee order?

i always get coffee from dunkin donuts when i buy coffee and i always get a brown sugar cold brew, no cream but extra sweetened

15. what’s a question do you constantly get asked?

where i got a piece of jewelry

16. if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where?

cupid from botticelli’s Primavera on my thigh :,0 I also want Matisse’s Dance but going around my arm I think it would be pretty!!!

17. google the top song from the year you were born

the kiss by faith hill 

18. rant about your favorite musician

i love death grips so much i wish it wasnt reduced to meme music???? why is it meme music?? i dont understand,, their music is really complex and you could listen for so many different things in it and you can get tons of things too. i like that they emphasize individuality and like. idk acting on your personal impulse like bringing the you on the inside out? dont know how to say that. i wish more people gave them a chance i also wish guillotine wasnt their most popular song.

19. what’s your favorite teacher you’ve ever had?

my speech professor!!! she was an angel she was so nice and supportive i would risk my life for her

20. describe your blog in 3-5 words

a lesbian that likes anime

21. what’s a conspiracy you believe in?

the war on drugs is just to put more people in prison so the state can profit off their unpaid labor

22. if you could see any concert tonight what would you choose?

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh i dont know ive never been to a concert

23. if you could break one of your bad habits which would you choose?

unhealthy eating habits!

24. can you dance? sing?

yes but not well

25. what’s something you can’t stop buying?

uhhhh idk I buy a lot of energy drinks

26. crowds or small groups?

small groups are nice

27. how long before a trip do you pack?

idk maybe the day before leaving I guess it would depend on the trip

28. what celebrity would you rate a PERFECT 10?

I dont think any celebrities are deserving of a perfect 10??? I have no fuckin clue

29. what quote or inspirational setting do you think is bs?

you cant love anyone if you cant love yourself. fuck that!!!!!!! I have issues with myself as a person and I’m trying to improve but that doesnt negate the love I have for other people

30. if you had to dye your hair an unnatural color right now, what would you choose?

green

31. you can change one thing about your life right now. what are you changing?

that I wasn’t born in poverty

32. how old do you get mistaken for?

a little older than I currently am, I dont really get mistaken

33. what do you think about a lot

lately it’s been bnha unfortunately

34. do you like your hogwarts house or do you wish you were a different one?

I’m slytherin that’s fine with me, I dont care about harry potter

35. what does home mean to you?

feeling safe. for the most part

36. what do you think you’d be arrested for?

idk man hitting someone maybe or shoplifting

37. have you ever been called down to the principals office?

yea but it was for my sister in elementary school

38. post a picture of the outfit you would choose if you could have any outfit you wanted

I kind of do wear whatever I want :/

39. describe your aesthetic

like fake goth but also likes anime. I like 90s stuff and the oldweb aesthetic a lot too. in my photography I incorporate a lot of catholic imagery and I use neon lights

40. answer with one of your ‘school memes’ (inside jokes you have with your class/grade) with no explanation

I dont have any!!!!

[alishirtsofficial]

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