-A fashion icon. Dresses either like a hobo or a drag queen. No middle ground- it’s glitter or dirt.
-Wears way too much cologne.
-Allergies? He is allergic to all of the natural world. Springtime is his greatest kryptonite.
-Never on time to anything, ever.
-Knows and is friends with everyone in Paris, seemingly through no amount of work on his part.
-Impossible to wake up when he falls asleep, he could snore through the apocalypse.
-On that note, definitely snores.
-Despite his blood stream being 89% alcohol, he actually does a surprising amount of stuff. Kickboxing, dance, street art. He’s particularly good at dancing- any genre, he can pick up in 10 minutes.
-At one point, he, Feuilly, and Bahorel started a hip-hop group. They got kicked out of the one and only competition they entered for starting a massive brawl.
-He sometimes stares at Enjolras for hours, non stop. Drinks and holds conversations without looking away. Enjolras never notices, and no one is sure if that makes it more or less pathetic.
-Is definitely that friend that piles things on top of or draws on anyone who falls asleep in his presence. Due to his habit of sleeping like a coma patient, that means he often wakes up in similar situations.
-Jehan has taken to stealing his paintings of Enjolras, so that if E ever comes to their home the art around will be slightly less creepy and stalker-ish. It’s doesn’t help much. There are a lot of paintings.
Killer Queen / Queen // Tea Party / Deadly Nightshade Botanical Society // Girls Just Wanna Have Fun / Emilie Autumn (cover) // Neapolitan Girl / The Divine Comedy // No Man Alive / Hannah Fury // Worse Things / Johnny Hollow // The Worst There Is / The Ettes // Beautiful and Bad / Nicole Dollanganger // Ballad of Lizzie Borden / Rasputina
Background Info: In the spirit of slowly returning to sharing things with the world, I thought I’d post the playlist that I’ve spent approximately one month procrastinating on diligently working on. I’m not completely satisfied with the blurbs, so I will definitely come back (after exams *cries*) to edit.
Started as a 30 song playlist, and cut down to 8 tracks. All the highs and lows of our entire The Freshman Book 3 relationship with Zig, with lots of angst and introspection. Some songs pertain to Zig x MC; others to each individual character.
Photos taken from Pexels, and edited by me in Photoshop. Hope you enjoy listening! 💕 Click on each song title for the link. I highly recommend listening to each song while looking at the visuals, lyrics, and analysis. 😉
And once we started having friends round You created a television of your mouth —– You got something to say Why don’t you speak it aloud, instead of living in your head? It’s always the same Why don’t you take your heart out, instead of living in your head? —– It’s just you and I tonight Why don’t you figure your heart out?
We are reeling from suitemate drama and uncertainty when we stumble upon the enigmatic barista at the Hartfeld coffee shop. He shoots us knowing smirks, flirtatious remarks, and oh, it is working.
The curve of his half smile, the curl of his deep hair, the heat of his toffee-warm skin washes over us. Risk is nothing when there’s endless possibilities in his gaze.
The start of the quarter is the perfect time to step away from the televisions (or books) inside our minds and take risks, to ground ourselves in new realities. Zig is something new, and very real.
Isn’t it a little late? Shouldn’t you fly away? —– Take a step around the room And every head keeps turning too Little dove, you fight ‘em back Show ‘em you’re so much more than that —– Walk into a smoke filled room. Oh no one could keep their eyes off you. Have a little drink or two Oh how could you be that girl I knew?
Soaring vocals brim with adrenaline, courage, and tenderness. That night, we head out into a strange world of dusky romances and dangerous people. Yet somehow, we always prove our past selves wrong.
Fragile. We walk into the Gutter Kitten’s crowded show only to be met with icy stares (and ice queens). We stand our ground, telling off the rude band members and turning up the charm to an 11 with our coffeeshop cutie. We fight ‘em all back.
Magnetic. In our “little black dress” at Madison’s birthday party, Zig is transfixed. He craves complexity, the satisfaction of stripping apart a problem layer by layer. Our fire, our loyalty, our three dimensionality captivates this lover of permutations, logic. In the smoky magic of our late night bar escapade, he takes us apart. Slowly. Tenderly.
3) “Livewire” Oh Wonder A poignant, sparse piano and beat-driven ballad, contemplating two individuals who have become intertwined.
Counting my losses as I let them go. Heavy the water as I sink below. —– I’ve been pretending all my shots are blown. Cover my heart up, never let it show. I’m shaking it off to find a higher low. —– So hold me when I fall away from the lines. When I’m losing it all, when I’m wasting the light. And hold me when I put my heart in your hands. —– Oh, won’t you be my livewire? Make me feel like I’m set on fire.
Covering up hearts, igniting fires, and letting walls down: how fitting that the themes here tie in with those of the other songs. As the relentless yearning to explore one another in dimly lit rooms and memorize each other’s complexities simmers down, our relationship spins into something deeper.
Grazing touches and gentle murmurs become even more fleeting, soft. When we hold each other tightly, slight frame on top of strong, sturdy, in the backseat of his old car, we realize that somehow within the span of weeks, we’ve become inseparable.
His confessions topple our own walls. As the night goes on, we mold ourselves into each other. Our dependence on one another is intoxicating.
Memories consume Like opening the wound I’m picking me apart again —– Clutching my cure I tightly lock the door I try to catch my breath again —– I’ll paint it on the walls Cause I’m the one at fault —– I don’t know what’s worth fighting for So, I’m breaking the habit tonight
Things begin to spin out of control. One moment, he’s brittle, too quick to snap, to accuse others of false play, to push them away. In a split second, he’s soft again, murmuring gentle reassurances and apologies.
We cannot understand his volatility. Fresh from the burn of an unfair, one-sided fight, we crack under the pressure. Everything gushes out.
The last thing we see is his back, taut with hard-earned, unwanted strength, tense with years of the strain of helplessness as his loved ones are damaged permanently. He has been cornered for so much of his life that running is a luxury.
For him, the anger gnaws and carves away at his insides. All his adrenaline, his sadness, his quick temper feeds the addictive kick. He knows no existence without it. For us, everything dries up. What hurts more, his leaving, or the ease, the relief, with which he leaves? We sink into the deep, because we don’t know if he’ll be coming back. If he even wants to.
What we don’t know if that he’s the one tearing himself apart again.
Oh, sometimes love’s intoxicating. Oh, you’re coming down, your hands are shaking. When you realize there’s no one waiting. —– Cause I’m shouting your name all over town. I’m swearing if I go there now. I could change her mind turn it all around. —– So I, dialed her number and confessed to her I’m still in love, but all I heard Was nothing. —– I wanted words, but all I heard was nothing.
We did not get the chance to see Zig’s perspective after MC leaves for California. For me, this song fills in the blank spaces. I wonder what emotions must have been running through his mind. Resentment? Regret? I imagine him playing the fight over and over again, and beating himself up for lashing out.
We know that whatever he felt, it was strong enough to compel him to dial MC’s number–and, to be completely crushed when she ignored his call. It was the final straw: the confirmation that MC did not care about him. Her silence hurt infinitely more than a punch in the face. And so, the walls go up. He hunkers himself down behind defensiveness once again.
But to finally find someone who loved him for who he was, and to lose her in an instant, stings. He knows that things could have gone differently.
6) “Poison” luhx. A stirring, indie and electronica track about apprehension, toxic relationships and choices, and the road to self-forgiveness.
I’ve been on either side of letting someone down and I don’t know which one is worse —– Your toxin takes its time to settle in When you said how much my skin reminded of home Time seemed to numb my sins —– I laid down all my walls so you could lay here next to me I know now… —– Too much of anything is poison And it’s laced upon your lips But the cure is in the venom, so I keep on coming back My soul is stained with your poison
Admittedly, this toxic relationship is a bit too dark for our reunion. Yet, there is something promising about the song’s raw honesty. It speaks of newfound wisdom, awareness, all qualities that make for a future of healing. “Poison” then captures Zig’s relationship with his past, his demons, and his journey to self acceptance.
Anger was Zig’s poison. It gave him what justification he needed to hate the world that dealt him this hand, to fight back against bullies, to have tasted and now expect rejection, and to avoid disappointment by putting up barriers around all of his relationships. In time, his numbness to his own aspirations became part of him.
Too much anger, however, and everything crashed. Inside, all he wanted was to be free. To believe in himself and his dreams once again. When he first met us in the coffee shop, he caught a glimpse of that brimming courage he once had, many years ago.
He fears that he is broken beyond repair. Perhaps this anger is now laced within his veins, toxic vines twisting around his heart, skin stained with bitter rejection.
There is beauty in his fear and newfound awareness. We are hopeful.
Darling understand, my faith wavers when I can’t see the end And I know you truly believe that our love will keep us from the edge —– I know we’ll never get it right We only ever seem to fight Anyone else would walk away When you love somebody then you stay
The end-of-the-quarter dance dazzles with the promise of new beginnings. To our joy, Zig is about to embark on his college journey! And, amid blushing and stammering confessions, he’ll do so with us–his favorite girl–by his side.
Under the blossoms of the fairy light-strung cherry trees, we twirl about on the dance floor, hearts light and gazes warm. He can’t stop staring at us, but this time, he knows that we’re his. And he, ours.
The future can come with all that it brings. As his hands make their home on our waist, we are content to press our face into his broad shoulder and just breathe. His hope is sweet as the air.
You got me tripping on my walk like I’m a novice. Something about you on the top, if I’m honest Running in circles around me, cuz you know I love it —– I’m gonna let you tie me up tonight And you can read my rights, if that’s alright I’ll loosen up your ropes and let you bite I wanna feel your touch —– (Arrest Me)
Like our bedroom escapade, this lush, achingly sexy track needs no explanation. Teasing, probing, begging. Surrendering and asserting have never tasted so perfectly together.
Zig makes us crave something deeper, almost animalistic, and we can’t control the hitch of our breath when he crumbles under our touch. How is it that we render him speechless in the coffeehouse, in the car, under the night sky, on our bed, one body pressing into the other, moans echoing against the walls?
There is heat everywhere. His gaze smolders, sends one quake after another shuddering through our pinned frame.
After, we lay together, nestled together among the bedsheets, his arm still draped over us. His hands feel rough, but his caresses gentle. As much as we love the storm, we relish the calm. The steady rising of his chest, his soft snore, almost childlike, as we drift away.
Whenever I make playlists for characters or stories, I always try to base the songs off of the feeling, rather than the actual lyrics. “Smoke Filled Room” and “Poison” felt the most ‘Zig’ to me; “Heart Out” and “Arrest Me,” the least. Regardless, I hope you liked my rambling musics and sound bites! Now back to my exam preparation… 😭
RuPaul’s Drag Race bamboozles me. I’m not sure I’ve encountered a television programme that so successfully tickles my trash T.V. node yet bursts with such unusual creativity and inspiring vision, and as much as I’m dubious as to whether this air of high art is intentional, I have no doubt that this show is brilliant. In celebration of its peculiar wonder, I’ve compiled my ten favourite drag queens from the first eight seasons, based on aesthetic, character, star quality and general ability to werk.
I’m still not entirely sure what ‘werk’ means, but I’m assuming it’s something good.
10. Willam Belli
Watching Season 4, I often forgot Willam was a contestant. Her hilariously mean asides about her fellow competitors painted her instead as a sort of twisted narrator who was only there to make fun of people and occasionally look incredible on the runway. Her journey through the competition, although controversially cut short, was effortless, and it is difficult to imagine that she wouldn’t have sailed into the top three had she taken things a little bit more seriously. Regardless of any rule breaking scandals, there’s no denying that Willam was easily one of the funniest contestants of all time.
More often than not, Milk’s entrance onto the runway came paired with a shot of the judging panel, aghast, attempting to comprehend whether or not the thing before them could even be considered drag. It is perhaps no surprise that Milk came perilously close to elimination the week she stepped out onto the runway dressed as a man, but it is controversy such as this that made her such an exciting and memorable contestant. Her wildly out-of-the-box approach was maybe too edgy for Season 6, but it’s seems as if the ever evolving world of drag is starting to catch up with her. Is it any coincidence that a bearded lady challenge and a boy drag challenge featured the year after?
8. Latrice Royale
No matter how ugly her black, leather boots, no queen will ever walk into the work room and match the charisma and delightful quotability of Latrice Royale. To this day, I cannot walk down the snacks aisle without announcing “Get those nuts away from my face!” to whoever may be present, and, frankly, it’s making my life a nightmare. Awkward shopping experiences aside, RuPaul’s Drag Race is a cut throat, occasionally delusional television program, so it was refreshing to have a queen as grounded, laid back, and often motherly as Latrice Royale. You only need to listen to the audience chanting her name at the Miss Congeniality crowning to know how well she was received.
Season 2 was the first I saw of Drag Race, and Jujubee was the first queen I fell in love with. That infectious blend of jovial cattiness and animated comedy really brightened a season otherwise plagued with unnecessarily bitchy energy. To date, I can’t recall a library reading more hilariously scathing than Jujubee’s, and this, combined with her excellent facial expressions and loving friendship with season runner-up Raven (a badass queen, who just missed a spot on this list), left a lasting impression which, essentially, converted me from skeptical dabbler to full-time fan of the show.
6. Jinkx Monsoon
I instantly took a liking to Jinkx, but her unusually meek, dreamer attitude conjured the image of a queen who would enjoy a brief, entertaining run before parting amicably around week six for lacking that cut-throat aplomb characteristic of previous winners. So, it was a pleasant surprise come the top four to see Jinkx still standing on the runway, having evolved into a powerhouse despite weeks of terrible adversity and bullying. Then came that legendary lip-sync with Detox, and, god damn, this bitch might go all the way. Who would have thought, following a season of heartbreak and underestimation (and Roxxxy Andrews), weird, little Jinkx would rise to the occasion, slay the three headed bitch dragon, Rolaskatox, and lift the crown for herself?
5. Katya Zamolodchikova
Yekaterina. Petrovna. Zamolodchikova. But your dad just calls her Katya. Time and time again, crippling anxiety has proved no match for everybody’s favourite Russian bisexual hooker, who succeeds repeatedly in being one of the funniest, most weirdly sexy queens in drag race herstory. If her time on Season 7 wasn’t enough to convince everyone of her curveball brilliance, her All Stars reprise was just the platform she needed to launch herself into meteoric stardom (and also into multiple full front splits). Had she and Detox done the tactical thing and eliminated Alaska in the makeover challenge, the crown would have been Katya’s for the taking, and the world would be a brighter, albeit more Soviet, place for it. #KatyaWasRobbed.
4. Kim Chi
I won’t lie; I found Season 8 dull. An arsenal of overconfident, half-baked acts and middling showgirls made for the most mediocre series of drag race to date. So praise be to Kim Chi, creative genius and saving grace for a season I’d most likely have stopped watching otherwise. Her tendency to draw reference from unusual places and polished execution of look after look made her a runway powerhouse, and I found myself excited for each episode just to see what magical ensemble she’d concocted this time. And she wasn’t a one trick pony, either. An ability to quickly adapt made her a comedy chameleon of sorts, often outshining so-called comedy queens in the skit challenges.
3. Adore Delano
In each of her seasons, Adore Delano came under fire for her unpolished, grungy approach to drag, but it’s that scrappy, blasé attitude that made her such a cool contestant. From her first, commanding stomp into the workroom, equipped with lashings of goofy fighting talk and streetwise charm, it was apparent there hadn’t yet been a queen quite like Adore. This isn’t to suggest she was some hard-as-nails, aggressive bitch, though. The loving mother/daughter dynamic between her and Bianca Del Rio was one of the best received relationships on the show, and Adore’s clumsy willingness to learn and admire only added to her plucky appeal.
2. Violet Chachki
It’s perhaps not prudent to ignore the controversy surrounding her win (in one queen’s words, “Apparently all you need to win is a corset”), but Violet Chachki is like an oil painting. I have a video compilation of all her runway looks saved on my computer and it plays like the dawn of a fashion icon, a faultless understanding of taste and strong sense of self conjuring for Violet a majesty that I, personally, could see strutting nowhere other than the top spot of Season 7. The attention to detail that adorned every look and unwavering confidence made Violet Chachki absolutely one of the most beautiful queens to grace drag race, and, come the Season 8 crowning, when she stood on stage in that gorgeous dress, waist like a toothpick and body covered in cockroaches, I knew this was a legacy she’d frozen into drag race herstory.
Raja has everything; The looks, the taste, the confidence the influence, the humour, the character. Above all other queens, she was the one I could foresee sashaying headstrong toward the crown without a shadow of a doubt, crushing every challenge thrown her way and summoning unforgettable looks from a pool of influence unchartered to any other contestant to date. I remember seeing her Marie Antoinette look for the first time and not being able to imagine a way in which she wasn’t strutting directly for first place, to far ahead in every way to concede defeat now. She is not only a legendary drag race contestant but a creative hero, and I’m not sure any queen will walk away with this kind of longevity ever again.
I feel the blood drain from my face. The woman standing before me is the shell of the mother I grew up loathing. Flashes of her beating me, and calling me horrible things race through my mind. Oh, how many times I told her to burn in Hell.
I turn away, unable to look at her. My eyes meeting Lucifer’s, I watch as his face hardens when he sees the chaos of emotions consume me.
“This is ludacris! She will not make this decision!” He shouts in horror. He steps in front of me, effectively blocking me from everyone’s view. The demon who spoke before, stands his ground.
“The Queen should be able to make a decision, no matter how difficult. If she can’t make this one, she should not be our Queen.” A cheer comes from the rest of demons as Lucifer’s back tenses; they will not accept me as a Queen until I decided my mother’s fate. Stepping out from behind Lucifer, I straighten up.
“I will decide her fate, but I will need to hear her wrong doings; just like everyone else.” The Demon looks smug as he bows.
“Of course.” He says.
Without looking at Lucifer, I put my throne back, and take my seat. In a matter of moments the trial is ready to begin. Lucifer is sitting next to me, the demons take their place, and my mother is kneeling in the middle of everything, looking at me with pleading eyes.
“You may proceed” I enounce. The Demon clears his throat.
“Your majesties, before you we have Sarah (Y/L/N). When she was alive, she was an abusive mother who would viciously beat and verbally accost her children.” The demon’s eyes meet mine, clearly enjoying bring up my past. “Once she abandoned those same children, she began whoring herself out to men and women for money.” My hands grip the arm rests, I had no idea. “While whoring herself out, she began to use drugs, such as cocaine and ecstasy to escape from the reality she created.” I can’t help but look at her now. She looked tired, and too thin. Her once beautiful face barely recognizable, like she has already been through hell. “which leads to our grand finale.” He pauses to smirk at me. “Ms. (Y/L/N) was in more debt than ever, so she decided to mug a woman walking down the street. She held a gun on the woman, and pulled the trigger. What she didn’t know was that the woman she shot, was pregnant with twins.” My stomach twists. I think I am going to throw up.
Lucifer grasps my hand, trying to offer me comfort. “These are her crimes?” Lucifer asks calmly.
“yes.” He recedes to the back of the room.
My hands are shaking as I twist them together. Keeping my head down I let the tears slip out. I feel Lucifer’s hand rubbing my back, but this time it’s not soothing. His hand feels like the weight of the world, crushing me.
My breathing becomes shallow as waves of anxiety flow through me. I feel my throat start to constrict. I am suffocating. The walls are closing in around me; when suddenly, I feel myself falling, face first towards the ground.
Waking up, I find myself in the middle of our giant bed, with no Lucifer in sight. Gingerly, I get up; bracing myself for the pain. Surprisingly though, it never comes. Lucifer must have healed me.
Making my way to the door, I scream as a hand touches my shoulder. “What the fuck!” Spinning around I see Lucifer trying not to laugh.
“Sorry Love, didn’t mean to startle you. I just came to check on how you were doing.” The humor leaves his face, worry taking its place.
“Physically I feel okay; thank you for that.” I take his hand, entwining our fingers. “What happened to my mother?” I ask, unsure I want the answer.
His face turns hard. “(Y/N) I am so sorry you were put in that position. I never wanted that for you.” He looks so sad, and so angry at himself.
Cupping his face I stretch to kiss his beautiful mouth. “It’s okay, I understand why it needed to be done.” The guilt shines in his eyes.
“No, I should have never let it happen. That’s why I condemned the demon who went against you, and anyone who followed him.” My eyebrows shot up.
“Wow.” Shock leaves me speechless.
Lucifer leads me to our bed, sitting me down gently. “I’m sorry (Y/N); but your mom.” He pauses, trying to choose his words. “What she did…” he struggled to get the words out. Placing a kiss on his lips I silence him.
“I know, it’s okay; you don’t have to say it.” Looking back down at my hands I speak. “It will be better if I don’t know. She wasn’t a good person, and she made my life feel like hell.” I chuckle. “But what kept me sane all this time was not knowing. So ignorance is probably bliss.” I can feel his eyes boring into me.
“It wasn’t ignorance that got you through all of it.” His voice was surprisingly stern, causing my eyes to snap to his. “It was how incredibly strong you are.” I shake my head while giving a sarcastic breath through my nose.
Lucifer grabs my hands, forcing me to look at him. “I’m serious. You are the strongest person I have ever met. I look at you every day, the love of my life, and feel… forgive the pun… but blessed that I can be around your strength.” I laugh. “My father really made the most amazing human and I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Tears spring to my eyes as I launch myself into him.
We fall back onto the bed together, laughing and kissing. “I love you Lucifer.” I say while planting a soft kiss on his mouth.
“I love you more, my Queen.” he says, nuzzling into the side of my neck.
I know Lucifer had to condemn her, and it saddens to know what my mother has done, and where she is now; but Luci is right. I am strong, I always have been and always will be. I Will get through this, and I will be better for it.
You Knocked me off the Ground from the Start | Camcel
Marcel had double checked his appearance twice in the full-length
mirror before bounding over the balcony. He knew he looked good, but he wanted
to look better than good for Camille, he wanted everything to be perfect. Marcel
Gerard did not do things in halves. Besides, Cami O’Connell deserved the very
best, certainly he was going to be the one to show it to her. After all this
time of trying to get under her skin, he was going to make sure every second of
this night counted.
He had already stopped at the florist earlier, a bouquet
of multi-colored tulips from the tulip festival. Most would assume roses on the
first date, but they were well over played and very not season. Tulips had just
bloomed and they lasted longer than most any other flower when kept in water.
Plus, they had so many colors to choose from that it was bound to happen by
chance that one of them were her favorite. He had already sent the Venus fly
trap as a backup for Valentine’s day, though he didn’t believe for a second
that was her favorite flower.
Once he arrived at her door he knocked lightly, keeping
the flowers behind his back and taking one more second to adjust his tie. When
she opened the door he wanted to have a proper grin and be prepared to say: “Good evening, mademoiselle.”
A lesson in strength from the Queens. I’ve had a whirlwind of travel, work, illness that left me feeling really off kilter (and forced a nice reprieve from the interwebs). As we enter Taurus, my focus and energy will be devoted to grounding, sinking in and nourishing my roots, and seeking abundance in all manners of strength. How are you setting your intentions for this new moon?