So I have decided that before the roadtrip, Noct and Iggy would, once a year, have a treat yo’ self day.
Want that new suit? TREAT YO SELF! New games console? TREAT YO SELF! New shoes? TREAT! YO! SELF! Mani/Pedi’s? TREAT. YO. MOTHERTRUCKIN’. SELF. New car?
It confuses Gladio and Prompto.
When they were in Altissia the pair of them randomly disappeared. Gladio and Prompto were equally concerned until they found them weighed down with bags and having a far too expensive lunch. They voiced their annoyance with being abandoned until they were given the presents they were bought. Treat Yo Self!Altissia edition.
So there are a number of “classic” Drarry stories that I have put off reading because they are supposed to be soooo good, and I’ll only be able to fall in love with them for the first time once. Like, I know that Saras_girl’s Turn is out there waiting for me, but once I read it, that’s it! No more anticipation. I also have a bunch of “last-to-me-fics” by authors who have left the fandom, and I don’t want to read them because I’ll probably never get to read another Drarry story by said authors again. I feel like I’m suffering from some kind of fanfiction-induced paralysis.
Now the host emerges, and a shadow starts to fall. Not one knows what hit them, none can see at all. Even as the end approaches still they’re not aware, How can you fight a foe so deadly When you don’t even know it’s there? And now that the job is almost done Maybe some escape, no, not even one.
Horror movies in Amity Park weren’t the same as they used to be.
Originally they were no different to the horror movies in any old town, most of them sucked, but were still fun for a cheap scare, some of them were genuinely terrifying and had even the toughest of the tough clutching their friend’s hand on the way home, and others were just a gory, badly acted adventure that you’d go see with a bunch of friends on Halloween for a bit of a laugh.
But after you’ve just spent the past hour hiding under the gum smeared underbelly of a Nasty Burger booth table holding your breath and knowing that the hand of a monster could drag you out straight through the metal surface at any given moment… an axe-toting guy in a mask jumping out onto the screen just didn’t have the bite it once did.
People used to see horror movies to add a bit of spice to their average everyday lives, they were fun because they were something unimaginable, something that could never happen to you. It was all just a work of fiction to get your heart pumping and adrenaline surging, there weren’t really monsters that could drag you out of bed in the night, there was nothing to really be frightened of.
She thought if her sister fell in love again, it would be someone heroic: noble, foolish, endearing, disgustingly good.
Not a villain. Especially not a villain who already has a child who happens to look a heck of a lot like her sister. Not that anyone else seems capable of noticing.
Her little sister hasn’t, of course. Never really thinks anything through.
It started when Regina was sick. Tonsillitis, which is funny really. Her foolish little sister gets thrown against walls, beaten to a pulp being damned heroic against whatever villain the stupid town has managed to antagonize this week, but it’s tonsillitis that makes her stay home. Ridiculous.
Of course, she doesn’t even tell Zelena. No, she hears about her sister being sick third hand at the diner from the not-so-Charmings and her nephew (who is still a bit jumpy because she did try to strangle him last year.) Can’t blame him for that. Still haven’t figured out how to apologize properly. Sorry, really hated your mum at the time didn’t know we were actually sisters who cared about each other. Blame grandma. She’s a piece of work that one.
“Well, it makes sense. Maleficent can’t catch strep throat.” Snow makes it sound perfectly logical that a dragon makes a good nursemaid and Zelena’s relieved there’s no space at her table so she can’t be expected to sit there.
Zelena rolls her eyes and shifts baby Robin to the other arm so she can eat. Bloody diner only has two high chairs and little Prince Neal basically has one on reserve.
Always looking for new music to show his friends
Once bought 800 revision cards on impulse and has only used 11 so far
Wakes up with the worst bed head
Calls Enjolras his son
Tries to make witty puns but fails everyday
Takes good care of his skin
He was the one to get jbm together
Life models for Grantaire occasionally
Loves comic sans (cos he’s classy)
Rocks a feather boa
Gives ferre backrubs because he gets so stressed
Is generally the most fabulous person in a room at all times
James Spader in Central Park August 21, 2017 (photo by Marcy Eggleton Spence)
“Our family had a brief but AMAZING trip to NYC in which we ALL had a fabulous time! Today, we got to see the eclipse in Central Park- so cool! And while waiting in line for the telescope I glimpsed a man I thought looked familiar, after doing a double (and triple) check I knew I’d seen my first celebrity in NYC! It was James Spader! He actually said Hi! And shared his eclipse sunglasses with us! Here’s a pic I got of him…”
My friend gave me this idea and I’m just fulfilling her wish.
A one shot in which you are Kendall’s personal clothing consultant and Harry’s ex and see some very risqué pictures of the two of them on New Year’s Eve. But considering you’re a kind person, you let it go and someone you hoped to never see again calls you out for it.
Word Count: 4336
You didn’t have the last name Kardashian but you may as well have been one considering you spent the majority of your time with the family. You were Kendall’s personal clothing consultant and though you technically just worked for Kendall, you had definitely helped the other girls get ready for red carpet events and casual night outings in the past. You were close with them, and you’d appeared on their show a handful of times. There was no avoiding it, considering your business was pretty popular ever since you’d started working with Kendall and the Kardashian camera were everywhere.
You didn’t mind though, considering you and Kendall were ridiculously close ever since you’d started working with her a couple years ago and you were around the same age so you got along rather well.
She was the one who introduced you to him actually. It was at an event and they came back to the hotel to hang out. You were sitting there zipping bags up and listening to music while drinking wine by yourself when their loud laughter startled you as they stumbled through the door. Everyone thought they were dating at the time but you knew from Kendall that they were just friends. There was absolutely nothing romantic going on between them but you could tell he was rather fond of her the minute you met him.
“Harry!” Kendall squealed, “Oh my gosh meet Y/N! She’s the reason I look so fabulous all the time,” she winked at you and shoved Harry forward so he stumbled over his feet.
“I think you two will be needing some water,” you chuckled, “Fun night?”
“It’s nice to meet you Y/N,” he smiled a wide smile that split his whole face and offered you his hand. You shook it, chuckling because they were definitely both out of their minds drunk, and shuffled past him towards the kitchen. When they’d woken up the next morning, Harry hadn’t seen you sleeping on the couch when he went to sit down, almost killing you by crashing down on your stomach. An interesting conversation followed and you both hit it off rather well.
You were surprised really, considering you were the ‘behind the scenes’ type of girl and he basked in the spotlight. But somehow you ended up in a relationship. It also surprised you just how much Harry seemed to genuinely like you considering you could have sworn he had feelings for Kendall. But months went by and you two remained strong. You fell in love and you fell hard. It seemed that he did as well because you two were inseparable. He spent every waking and sleeping moment he could with you and you tried hard to fit into his schedule as well when he was on the road.
It was a relationship full of mutual understandings and you both built each other up rather well. Harry even bought a house in the California area you were at just so he could, as he liked to say, “Come home to you.”
I can’t believe this is still shit that needs to be said but my god please don’t call gay men “sassy and fabulous” all the damn time if it doesn’t even fit their personality like that’s so obviously shitty. I’m neither sassy nor fabulous and yall damn well know it cause I’m out here, grimy as fuck, eating corn on the cob in my backyard wearing only a ripped pair of boxer shorts and a def leppard t-shirt that’s 5 years older than I am, with no shoes on, dodging broken glass from smashed beer bottles on the porch, listening to margaritaville.
I rather listen a beautiful lie than a grotesque truth
since the pirate flag flew over the vampires nest
I found myself intrigued and understood
the charisma of vanilla powdered lies.
I rather listen a beautiful lie than a grotesque truth
spare me the platitudes and embroider me
in perfumed sentences
and let me dream a thousand dreams
without interruption don’t disturb my innocent slumber
unless prince charming my soul mate decides it’s time
to wake me up with a poisoned kiss.
otherwise envelop me in brilliant stories
don’t waste my time my time is priceless
real life domesticated life it’s unmeasurable
and tedious if you ask me
unless you read and watch art movies all the time
visit grandiose galleries and swirl up and down
the royal dust from the antique bookshops
or overrated and boring museums.
I decided to live my life surrounded 100% by art beauty
and full with emotional adrenaline
knowledge and mysterious thrills.
I rather listen a beautiful lie than a grotesque truth.
I don’t wanna hear anymore about the terrorist war
unless it’s knocking furious on my ironed door.
I decided to live in a marbled palace
among vampires bad reputed dandies ghost pirates
trembling shadows and without mirrors.
I don’t wanna be concerned about trivial matters as
how my face and my mask face the night or the day.
I want to forget about my visage and me and focus
on loving and cherishing my imaginary friends among
the aforementioned distinguished
and honorable colleagues and tenants.
I’m sure the puppet master and the prince of darkness
will take care of all of us
we will roll some Bit Coins on the Mayfair Market
or maybe we will hijack a notorious Monaco bank.
I don’t know now but as long as we have genial ideas
and our hearts and brains are intact I’m sure we will
survive in rococo style.
Nothing can beat our outcasts minds.
In case I end up in jail and my dream shatters in pieces
please send me that drug from the movie Lucy
with Scarlet Johansen where i can use my brain 100%
so I can escape and try again this time with indisputable results. That’s all my fabulous ones.
If Oscar Wilde didn’t made it I know I will.
Just wish us tones of creative disposition and immortal luck.