no tow

“Your boy all glowed up
Every time we touch down, bet it go up
'Member doin’ shows, ain’t nobody show up
Pour your heart out, ain’t nobody show love
They used to laugh when my whip was on the tow truck
'Til me and bein’ broke finally broke up
Watch out for me, I’m about to glow…..”

- Kanye (from Drake’s “Glow”)

onlyblueberry  asked:

DL being possessive with EE because he wants all his attention and because he is a very jealous boyfriend but he always denies it? In a funny way please, I see a lot angst over there ^^;;

When Ain turned away from Elsword, the first thing he saw was Ciel leaning against the wall, crossed arms and an impatient twitch in his eyebrows.  He frowned.

“Ciel?  Is something wrong?” he asked, walking over to his boyfriend.  Ciel said nothing, just grabbed Ain’s arm and towed him out of the room.  Ain didn’t really get a chance to protest.

He followed Ciel’s quick steps, wondering what was going on.  Had someone died?  Was Lu okay?  Did they just get ambushed?

A current of emotion brushed past him, and Ain calmed his thoughts enough to taste it.  Oh.  Oh.

“You’re jealous,” he accused.

Ciel stopped dead.  Ain almost smacked into him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?  You’re soooo jealous,” Ain teased, and Ciel let go of Ain’s wrist and whirled around.

“I’m not jealous!  Definitely not of Elsword!”

“I never said anything about Elsword.”

Ciel flushed red.  Ain’s cackling could be heard all the way down the hall.

Gigwise.com review:

A group which Future Islands stated that they were honoured to perform alongside due to their last influence on their sound, the avant garde pop legends Sparks descend on the O2 Academy with a revitalised set and an all-star band in tow. Flanked by longstanding members of Queens Of The Stone Age and Mini Mansions, the sibling duo of Russell and Ron Mael greet their adoring public with an eclectic mix of tracks from their long, storied career before performing a variety of new songs for the very first time. Bursting into life with ‘At Home, At Work, At Play’ and 'Good Morning’, their wholly bombastic sound and wry sense of humours finds its stride during a rousing version of 'When Do I Get To Sing My Way?’ From their 1994 LP Gratuitous Sax and Senseless Violins.

Following a brief discussion about their upcoming new album, the band tear into a smattering of tracks from the record which intrigues but fails to hit home to the degree of their older material. The off-kilter melodies and wordplay of title track 'Hippopotamus’ appear lost on the crowd before the silliness of 'The Missionary Position’ was met with a similarly nonplussed response, but one new offering that definitely struck a chord was the sardonic sound of 'What Is It This Time?’ Described by Russell Mael as the sound of an overworked God proclaiming that our pleas for guidance “better be really important”, it is evident that their ability to create pop that is not only eccentric for eccentricity’s sake but also thought provoking has not diminished at all and hopefully signposts the general direction of the album.

Rounding things off with a series of their most iconic numbers including 'This Town Ain’t Big Enough For The Both Of Us’ and 'Amateur Hour’; it proves beyond all doubt that Sparks still have a place in the sphere of modern music and still have the capacity to grip an audience whenever they please.

hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz  asked:

#7 or #98 for the drabble challenge! :D

“Well, that’s tragic.“ / “The store ran out of Easter eggs.”

“The store ran out of Easter eggs,” Belle announced mournfully before they were even entirely through the door. Cayenne pouted silently in Lewis’ arms as he smiled and shrugged at their mother.

“The truck that was supposed to deliver the dairy stock to the Spratley’s last night was in a wreck. The driver was fine but the eggs were beyond saving.”

Tempo being as small as it was, Spratley’s Market was really the only feasible option for groceries, unless you were willing to drive an hour out (and that was being optimistic about the traffic) to Ritmo where the nearest megamart was. It wasn’t a journey Lewis was keen to brave with two grumpy and disappointed girls in tow.

“Well, that’s tragic,” Lucinda Pepper nodded in solemn agreement as she spooned another bite of baby food into Paprika’s waiting mouth. “I suppose we’ll just have to make our own, this year.”

“Gan’t *mage* eggsh,” Cayenne mumbled around her thumb– a habit she’d almost let go of except when times were as dire as this. Lewis delicately tugged it out of her mouth before she continued. “We’re people, not chickens.”

“Are you sure?” Lewis grinned, juggling her in the crook of his elbow. “I bet if I tickled you enough you might lay an egg eventually.” With his free hand he demonstrated, sending Cayenne into fits of protest between squealing laughter. Belle snickered behind her hands, completely unsympathetic to her sister’s plight, and Paprika, not one to ever be left out of a good time, shrieked jubilantly and drummed on her high chair tray.

Once the joyful noise died down to muted giggling, Lewis set Cayenne down and crossed the kitchen, pecking his mother on the cheek and taking over feeding the baby.

“You’re talking about those egg-shaped chocolate molds from the Duck Walk a couple years ago, right? I didn’t know we still had those,” he said, wagging the mermaid-shaped spoon in front of Paprika until she opened her mouth like a baby bird.

“They’re in the downstairs kitchen. No use throwing out perfectly good tools just because there’s not an immediate use in sight.” Mrs. Pepper pulled out silicone mats and double boilers from the cabinet, started filling the pans with water to set to boil.

Belle and Cayenne had caught on, and the prospect of making chocolate eggs had their faces so bright with excitement that it was almost hard to believe they’d ever been downhearted about a single thing in their lives.

“We won’t be able to make as many,” Mrs. Pepper cautioned as she brought out twin containers of milk and white chocolate. “Since they take more time and work. Two each. But we can make them fancy enough to make up for it,” she finished with a smile and a wink.

“Yes, mama!” the girls chorused, grins ear to ear. They didn’t notice Lewis mouthing it along with them, pulling a face at the baby to make her laugh so he could sneak the last spoonful of squash into her mouth.

“I’ll let you take credit for mine, chickadee,” he told her, delicately ruffling the downy fuzz on her head.