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Epic Rap Battle of The Opera.
Please keep in mind a friend and I wrote this in the 7th grade. It’s bad. It’s also based off the 04 movie… I know….. Christine:
I am so confused
Do I go or do I stay
Erik is so Dark,
But Raoul might be gay
Erik I do love you
I just wish you would learn
That Garnier doesn’t revolve
around your little sunburn.
Don’t touch my woman,
DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
to her, I’m a pimp,
And to you’re just a man.
I’m rich and my beautiful hair waves
You’re just some ugly dude
Who lives in some cave!
You’ve got pretty girl hair,
And a huge nose,
And if you poke me with it,
Will it leave a mark?
I laugh- the way you
Ride a plastic horse and
are afraid of the dark!!!
So I woke up this morning to find this: "michaelphilipreed liked your post: Merker Rerd: King of the Fire Breathing Turtle?"
I believe that the following gifs can correctly describe the emotions coursing through my veins at this very moment.
Solo dance party:
When my best friend Trinity found out:
After we calmed down a bit:
If so then,
(I thank several awesome people from the fanmily for these wonderful pictures/gifs. You know who you are.)
Haru awoke in her shared hotel room far too early. The sun had touched her closed eyes and made her face hot and now she was awake. She knew that she had closed the curtains to keep the cursed thing from waking her up too early again, so that could only mean one thing…
She rolled over to look at the bed closest to the door, where Amaya slept peacefully. She was the only other person in the room for the time being, and had gone to sleep after Haru which was probably at some indecent hour, as Haru went to sleep at the sensible time of ten o’clock (one of the few sensible things she did do. She couldn’t help it. Miyako explained jokingly that she needed to because she expended so much energy existing). Haru grumbled, and rolled herself out of the bed, her extra-long sleep shirt hanging nearly to her knees on her petite frame, collar almost slipping off her left shoulder. She knew her very particularly-cut strawberry blonde bob, chin-length on the right and bottom-of-the-breast length on the left, looked terrible, as it wasn’t styled one bit. Her amber eyes were still tired, a tiche annoyed, but mostly mischevious.
Amaya could not be allowed to sleep on while Haru was awake at the ungodly hour of… she looked over at the standard hotel alarm clock on the dresser between the two beds. 7:00. The ungodly hour of 7:00 in the morning.
She walked over to the other side of Amaya’s bed, where the Mist girl had rolled to and was facing. She squatted down and rested her chin on the matress, her nose and eyes peering only an inch or two from Amaya’s sleeping face. And she began to chant.
“Butts, butts, butts, butts…”
Characters: Sherlock and Molly. Word: Spider.
“S-Sherlock,” Molly stammered out, staring wide-eyed at the spider that was crawling steadily towards his left hand.
He followed her gaze and, upon spotting the eight-legged creature, promptly destroyed it with a few drops of a nearby acidic mixture… Unsanitary.
The Beginning to His End. (Love is a four letter word)
The light was so garish; I thought for sure I was in heaven. That’s where I was headed, where I plotted my map. It wasn’t somewhere a car could take me, though it was a car that took my parents. It was a few extra pills that would get me to that light in the sky. It was more obnoxious than I imagined… at least it wasn’t hell though. Sound started to surround me: Beeping, from some sort of monitor, counting, numbers in sets of threes, and screaming; unnecessarily loud, in my ears. And then there was a tube down my throat. I guess that’s when I started to wonder if I could take back what I had assumed was heaven and not hell earlier. No, this was definitely hell. The light disappeared and I had no strength other than to vomit on myself, and doze off again. There seemed to be some time I lost while unconscious. I was now awake, but I pretended to sleep as I wasn’t alone.
“Is he gonna be ok?”
There was a little girl.
“If he wakes up.”
An older boy.
There were footsteps that echoed away, and I figured I could take a look around, find out where I was. But when my eyelids fluttered to take in my view, the boy was still standing in the room. He was in hospital attire, the sight of that concluding my location, though he wore a black and blue scarf. He seemed fragile, probably a cancer patient. This didn’t bother me, I was an apathetic asshat. Being a sixteen year old did that to me. I had an excuse though. My parents were dead, I just failed at suicide.
“Of all things…” My voice was a raspy struggle of breath.
“What?” The patient asked.
I must have spoken a thought. It happens. We stared at each other for a moment, what should’ve been an awkward silence was really an accepted breeze of wind through the window. It was like nothing. We were both just trying to observe the other, until finally the boy just nodded, folded the scarf around his neck, and left the room. I didn’t understand what he had gained by staring at me, but it wasn’t something I cared to ponder about. I didn’t have time anyways, a couple nurses, or doctors or whatever they were ran into my room.
“Room 516, Patient 6341-“
“Erik Agoston is awake!”
They all surrounded me; asking me questions, prodding at the tubes that were in my mouth, and pricking the veins of my forearms. I was pretty pissed about the whole event. It sounds pretty moronic: I had tried to commit suicide, but at that point I didn’t care about the hospital, I just wanted to go back to my foster home and sleep and watch bad television. Maybe it was my depression talking. It happens.
“How are you feeling?”
“I didn’t think you cared, but since you asked I’m actually really annoyed.”
They continued testing me, each nurse had a different thing to check. I groaned and upon inhaling, smelt the pungent chunder that was stained onto my hospital gown. I finally built up the nerve to push back all the people who were surrounding me, and stealing my precious oxygen.
“Just get out!”
The majority of them stood back from me, like dogs who knew they were doing something wrong. A couple pushed back my shoulders, forcing me back onto my pillow.
“We need to make sure you are alright. You have been in a coma for a few days.”
“Maybe I was sleeping! Maybe I need my rest, and maybe, I need to change into clean clothing. I could be wrong though. You ARE the doctors.”
One of the nurses passed a clean gown over to one of the doctors, who finally complied to my wishes.
“We will be back later to check on you.” He mumbled as he handed me the gown. I gave a big cheesy smile and waited for him to walk away. Once he was gone, I closed the door and changed. Right as I had slipped into the clean clothes, someone entered the room without knocking.
“Are you kidding me-“
“Erik, are you in here?”
It was my social worker. That made me feel a bit better.
She approached me and, as gently as she could, slapped me upside the head. This woman had taken care of me once my parents got into that car accident. She fought for me to get me into a safe place. She came to visit me constantly, and would ask me to play the piano for her. Here she was after years of caring for me, in my hospital attire, because I had tried to kill myself. I shrugged, searching for some sort of forgiveness. She tugged the wrinkles out of her blazer and presented herself to be professional once more.
“That was a personal slap, wasn’t it?”
“The things I would do to you if I weren’t your social worker-“
“That sounded inappropriate-“, I immaturely chuckled.
“Shut up, there is someone here for you.”
“Who the hell could possibly want to come and see this?” I pointed to my shirt, gesturing to the puke stain that wasn’t there anymore. It took me a moment to realize this, and I dropped my hands and waited as my social worker called someone from the hallway. A woman came to the threshold, her skin was olive-toned, and her clothing was all neat. She wore a skirt down to her knees, and a long sleeve button up cardigan. A small cross sat over her collarbone on some silver necklace. I was introduced to this woman by a hand shake.
“Nice to meet you, Erik.”
“Yeah strange stranger, but, uh… Who are you?”
“This is Gracie. She is your new foster mom.”
“What,… What happened to Shelbie?”
“You tried to kill yourself by taking the oxycontin from her operation. Sometimes when kids do that to their families, they send ya to a new one.”
“Right, and so now I am your new foster mom. And no need to worry, I will never give up on you.”
Little did I know this woman was the biggest, bible thumping bitch I would ever come to know.
Love is a 4 Letter Word.
This is a cheesy title to a novel anaspiringauthor and I dreamt of in middle school. The characters all VERY familiar, with a genre of Realistic Fiction. It included
a name Erik,
a name Mandi,
and a name Maria.
Maria and Erik being adopted into the same family, and attending school with the infamous Mandi, who was secretly their neighbor. They all shared a few laughs in their days, along with a tear or two, but I never really got anywhere plot wise. A big point of the book was Erik’s crush on mandi, but even the relationship wasn’t developed properly. The book consisted of a bubbly beginning, a confusing middle, and multiple endings. I gave up and handed the only real copy (Besides the random typed up scenarios, and the first couple chapters on dA) to my dear friend sam, anaspiringauthor.
Years have past and sam arrived to my eighteenth birthday hang out, with news of the book. Informing me of all the plot twists that over time I had forgotten about, and I had an epiphany about where I could take my dearest characters.
Here on tumblr, for the officially first time, I would like to announce that I am going to rewrite and finish (and possibly publish) the book Love is a 4 Letter Word.
Happy tumbling, I will post updates and possible sneak peaks later.
Dear Tom Hiddleston!
Dear Thomas Hiddleston,
You went to Winterfest, a dance at my high school between homecoming and prom, with me tonight, and, although you were simply there in spirit, you had a marvelous time. Fret not, for you were the perfect gentlemen, and I quite enjoyed myself. With the theme being “Fairytale“, I wasn’t surprised to find the gymnasium decorated to met the requirements of a night in Wonderland, but the extravagant décor couldn’t compare to the sight of you standing there, looking dapper as ever in your tux might I add, sporting a tie of the rainbow persuasion in order to match the multiple, multi-color flowers in my freshly curled hair. You had even been kind enough to bring an equally colorful corsage, with I still have with me finding its place of honor tacked to my wall write next to my favorite Shakespeare quotes. It thrilled me to know that all of that hard work me and my dear friend, Samantha, did was not all for not and that you even loved my new lip and eyebrow piercing. I apologize again for not agreeing to a dinner with you beforehand, but Sam couldn’t get off work until 5:00pm, and she wanted to help me get ready.
I loved dancing with you! It seemed our feet never left the dance floor once we had stepped foot on it. That is except for the occasional food and water break and when we first had our pictures done. It was hilarious walking down “The Red Carpet” with you, walking with my arms spread wide like a bird in flight. You had been kind enough to kiss my hand and tell me that I had absolutely perfected the Hollywood actress strut. I shall be receiving our pictures in about a weeks time, just before Spring-break, and I am sure they will look fantastic. I can’t show enough thanks for what you did when that disgusting man started grinding on me. You didn’t use violence, but instead walked to the bathroom with me and my friends, waiting patiently outside with Trinity’s date.
It is sad that not every man can be as kind as you, keeping your hands right were they should be. You never drifted below my waist unless I asked you to, which was only once to keep the same disgusting man from claiming my rear for his own. You didn’t just “slow-dance” with me, you twirled me and spun me, waltzing with me until I felt like a princess in your arms. Although I have to admit, my arms are quite tired now due to your extreme height, however it wasn’t any less perfect. You were also more understanding than I could ever hope for, giving me the space I needed to dance with my girls. I had to admit, you’re jealousy over Abraham was quite entertaining. Rest assured, he is entirely and unequivocally gay, and the only reason I was dancing with him was because he had challenged me to a “hips and drop-it-like-its-hot” contest…..which I lost. Also, he thinks your cute.
I must say my favorite part of the night was the last dance. The song that played was the same one that played at a previous dance when a boy I wish to not remember had taken advantage of my distractedness and claimed my lips. You didn’t do that, however when I pulled you into a kiss, you returned it passionately. Needless to say, the kiss had quickly become fairly…..vigorous? And I enjoyed every part of it. You walked me to Sam’s car afterwards, placing a farewell kiss to my knuckles. It was a night of magic and splendor, truly a fairytale. I only hope you will agree to be my date for Prom?