true fear.

I live 90% of my life in fear that nsfw things will pop up on my dash when in public. Like, I’m just walkin’ into school and scrolling through Tumblr and then there’s just a dude getting rammed on the screen and the person next to me is terrified and I’m sat there blubbering.

Originally posted by coolimogene

thewriterfromtherustyruins  asked:

Funny you should mention Arthur Cues, I found a few of 'em you forgot to mention/didn't know about on youtube, One's called Sad Background Music from "Arthur" by Corbin Howell and although it's a recreation, it's pretty good, and another is called Arthur - Sad Piano Sound/Theme by a Alexis Aguero, and although you can hear voices in it, she/he did some audio trick to get the BGM to stand out. The last is a video called "Arthur" background music cues by wileyk209zback, hope that helps. PEACE!

noice! :0 gj finding those cues!!

A Bramerican Wedding

“Oh god.” Britain murmured tugging at his tie. His throat felt like sand and his heart felt like it’s in his throat. He looked at himself in the mirror. 

Britain had his hair gelled to the side, he had a white tie, a creme colored vest, and a long black tuxedo jacket with long coat tails. He dressed in his best suit for this wedding and he is not going to back down now. He has waited way too long. 

“You're fine.” Spain complained. Spain was Britain’s best man, and he was there mainly to reassure Britain that he was fine. 

Italy and France helped design and plan the entire wedding, considering their deep cultural beauty and fashion sense. America contributed nothing but complaining throughout this two month planning session. Britain was stressed beyond belief. He was not going to back out now. 

“Britain!” America called, walking into the room, slumped and his head hanging back. “I can’t tie my tie!”

Britain looked at America incredulously. “You’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony!”

Spain smirked. “I’ll leave you love birds alone.” With that, he strolled out of the room.

Nonetheless, Britain made a soft sound of annoyance. He smiled softly at a grinning America and tied his blue tie.

America was dressed in a black suit, with a black button up shirt, a white vest and a dark blue tie. Britain forced him to wear the suit, and he practically had to wrestle it onto him. Britain gelled America’s hair all nice, until America messed it up to it’s usual blonde, chaotic nest. 

“See you out there. I guess.” America shrugged. 

Britain smiled softly and replied, “Yeah. I guess.”

America turned on his heels and walked away. Britain turned back to the mirror, and that’s when America ran back, smacked Britain in the bottom, and ran off giggling while Britain yelled after America. 

~*~

Britain drew a deep breath and looked at the aisle he was about to walk down. 

The wedding was beautiful. It was in Britain’s oldest and most elegant church. America insisted they wed in the local Chuck E. Cheese where Britain once found a hair in his pizza, but of course, America didn’t get what he wanted. 

The window panes were gorgeous, shining in all different colors. There was ribbon on the pews, with red and blue flowers and tiny British and America flags. The aisle was littered with red, blue and white rose petals. America smiled at Britain. America stood next to the priest. Spain, Italy, China, Canada, Ireland and France were dressed in black and a pale creme color stood on either side of America. 

America begged that Britain would hold a bouquet of cacti down the aisle. Britain agreed, just so he can have a laugh. 

Once Britain walked up to the priest, he smiled and handed it to him. “Here you go. It’s for you.”

The priest frowned. “Uh … Thank you.” The priest carefully set the cactus to the side.

America snickered. America and Britain stood side by side. The priest started to go on and on about marriage, equality, etc. 

America wanted that priest from The Princess Bride. He remembers he and America watching that film, and America howling at that scene. 

“This is so lame.” America muttered, gaining a dirty look from the priest and Britain. 

If Britain hadn’t known any better, Britain would’ve thought he was talking about getting married to Britain, but of course, he was talking about the priest’s mumbling. 

“Do you, Arthur Howell, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asked. 

Britain held America’s hands and smiled lovingly at him. “I do.”

“And do you, Lucas Wilson-”

“I do!”

The priest smiled. “You may now kiss-”

“You have a mustard stain on your shirt!” Britain exclaimed, eyeing America’s tie. 

“I was hungry!” America replied, shrugging. “So what?”

“I paid a lot of money for that tie! If you were going to ruin it, I never would’ve bought it for y-”

America interrupted Britain’s rant by pressing his lips to his.

“Finally!” Canada groaned. “Now I can take off these fucking heels.” Canada continued to take off her heels.

“Canada!” Italy scolded.

“What?” Canada asked.

America lifted Britain bridal style and carried him out of the church.

~*~

“You know, we’re supposed to be at the dinner.” Britain mentioned. “Giving our speeches and stuff.”

Britain and America were on the hood (bonnet) of America’s red mustang. They were on a cliff, looking at the night sky with the radio playing some Journey. They had a half empty carton of beer in between them. 

“But isn’t this so much better?” America asked. “Sitting on my car with me?”

“Sure.” Britain chuckled, interlacing his hand with America’s. America took a sip of his beer with the other hand.

“I love you.” Britain whispered.  

America smiled. “Love you too, hubby.”

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