UU: it is the day whereafter the legendary octet of mUtUal progenitoriety will come together and heal a great breach in paradox space.
UU: a day delivered throUgh eighty billion years and foUr distinct Universal instances worth of Unfathomable tUrbUlence.
UU: and while the emerald eye of this storm is fixed in the abyss forever
UU: today yoU are poised to escape its scowl once and for all.
UU: by skaias gUiding light, yoU may leave behind its tUrning arms of bright coloUrs and mayhem, and secUre peace for yoUr cosmic progeny for all dUration.

The emerald eye of the storm—the storm of “Unfathomable tUrbUlence“ and “a great breach in paradox space“!

Disney || Peter Maximoff x Reader

Request: “ X-Men! Quicksilver on shot? Like, he catches her singing a disney song and she knows it word for word and he’s impressed and then some fluff….?”

A\N: Hello children. This is your author speaking. For the purposes of this story, how about we ignore the fact that Lion King wasn’t released till 1994 and yes, I am well aware that this imagine is set in the eighties. So enjoy the imagine. Author out!

You lightly started to tap your feet as you began to hum the tune of perhaps one of the best songs in all of the existence of this world. You started to drum your fingers against the kitchen counter as you waited for the water to boil for your cup of tea. Recently watching a Disney movie could really get a song stuck in your head.

“Hakuna Matata! What a wonderful phrase,” you hummed, bobbing your head left and right.

“Hakuna Matata! Ain’t no passing craaaze.” You skipped over to the other side to grab yourself a spoon.

“It means no worries,” you sang. “For the rest of your daaaaays.”

“It’s our problem-free…philosophy!” You grabbed the saucer and poured hot water in your cup. “Hakuna Matata!”

“Hakuna Matata?” Peter’s voice came from behind you.

You swiveled around and jumped a little as the cup tipped over in your hand and threatened to spill over you. You gasped as you felt a swooshing sensation and after you blinked, you noticed that you were wrapped carefully in Peter’s arms and were well away from the cup. Peter winced as the cup shattered into smithereens as it hit the floor.

You looked at the broken mug and then back at Peter. “That was my favorite mug.”
“Well it was either you or the mug,” he shurgged.

“The mug! Always the mug!”

“Calm down twinkie,” he chuckled, kissing your nose. “I’ll buy you another one.”

“My hero,” you said sarcastically.

“Also were you singing just a minute ago?”
“Uh…no?” you squinted.

“Okay don’t lie,” he grinned at you. “That was singing! And pretty great singing!”

You turned a little red. “Thanks I guess.”

His eyes sparkled. “We should totally do-“

“-we are not going to sing a duet.”

“Oh but heeeeeeey!” he whined. “It’s gonna be so awesome!”

“Peter no!”

“Peter yes!”

You groaned as you anticipated the long hours of argument the two of you were going to have.


Paint Me Colors

Raindrops echoed on the roof slates,
heard from inside a dark cavern,
seeking some semblance of change.

Unaware of what was to come,
an eighty-nine minute lecture was shown,
& emotion was taught through color by Sirk.

Pain & somberness through the lightest blues,
the desperate compass of love in crimson reds,
not to mention isolation through perfect framing.

He understood human beings like no other,
this hunger we have for spiritual compassion,
to ends of the Earth we’d walk for this ecstasy.

Projected graciously for my second chance,
my eyes close midway through to feel it all.
How I long to portray such fluid colors,
my desolate soul is blind to these theories.

Such a shame we try but rarely learn,
I will never understand the things that I love.


James: Okay, so what are we actually doing? Just sitting around on the bench or?

Jayde: Yeah, Rem. Is the plan to just sit out here and shoot the shit all night?

Rem: Don’t insult me, you guys… I’m offended you’d think I’d have anything less than a world-class plan for tonight.

Margot: So what is it?

Rem: We’re breaking into the school pool. Now, before you all start freaking out, relax. The doors never locked because the latch is busted and the security cameras in there haven’t worked since the eighties. Plus, our school is so broke that there’s no nighttime security. So, what do you say? You all in?

Rowan: But—We don’t have bathing suits.

Rem: Ah, but we have underwear.

Rowan: Um—

Keana: I’m in.

Rowan: Me too!



SHOUT OUT ROLL CALL: @the-thinwhiteduchess @theeuropeancann0n@davidbowiebride @thatgirlwiththeglitteryblazer @spookie-kitty@heartsfilthylesson91 @thinwhitedukedavidbowie @danifillyart @ziggybird@dumbfaceadventureland @dustonmars @cidermoon @a-little-irish-princess@b0wie-babe @rocket-yeah @the-morning-and-the-evening-star@indigoanarchy @keith-moon69 @jar-eth @emrosethedisneymjsherlokifangirl@wingedbelievereagle @alegriavida @glamrock-lizardman @ejuncal@esconognosia @yourfluffiestnightmare @glambertstardust @lightning-chaser16 @the-g0blin-princess @loveziggyna @janedoe876 @the-cheshire-cat7 @toxicwentz @davidbowiefans @leppardbowie @wolfinsheepclothing@eighties-pterodactyl @thomasjnewton @realresponsiblejob @mister-tommy-newton @spookygreglake @bowiebowiebowiebowiebowie @ravage657@christopherleefan @box-of-otters @thomasjeromenewton@davidssecretlover @theedwardscissorhandslover @antheanstars@princess-bowie

I’m watching the Black Mirror episode Playtest. Kurt Russell’s son is the lead. He’s so close to being as hot as his Dad was in the eighties but he’s not? It’s very distracting.

I mean I guess he’s not close but you kinda catch glimpses.

It’s weird.