god save the queen

twenty two ☢ future legend bassist for LEECH FRAGMENT ❛ the most beautiful thoughts are always besides the darkest. today, i seriously thought about killing you. ❜ BEST BEFORE: a while ago

[licmsloane]

junearmstrcng‌:

@licmsloane

if you had asked june armstrong what her favorite band was eighteen months ago, she would’ve said leech fragment. well, she would’ve said gone girls, or actually rush, because she was supposed to hate leech frag, but if you looked at how many shows she snuck into to or how much time she spent making homemade t-shirts for them, the answer would’ve been leech frag. without a doubt. she’d been that girl, in the front row of every show (she had to be, if she didn’t want to get lost in the sea of miscreants) screaming with the best of them, or at least bruising her way through the pit.

in the last year, though, she hadn’t been to a single show, which left an unexpected void that only the dirty cacophony of music they made could fill. since the night at rosie’s and then the twilight zone christmas they’d had, she couldn’t help but think of those shows fondly. even if things between her and liam had turned sour for… almost the entire year of 2018, she’d always had a ton of fun in the raw energy of their shows. and so far, 2019 was about doing whatever the fuck she wanted (she was sure that wasn’t going to bite her in the ass any time soon), so when the sun set and she got off work at the trio, she changed into a mess of denim and black cotton and took to renegrades for what promised to be a night of hell raising and possibly losing her voice again. 

leech fragment had never failed her before (collectively, as a band, at least) and they certainly didn’t tonight. it felt kind of insane, to be in the front row again, watching liam playing and screaming into the microphone, not to mention the other dudes who were staples in her life now. somehow, though, even as things wound down and the show ended, it felt right to be back. it also felt right to be out back outside the warehouse, smoking with the same people she’d smoked with while she waited for liam to pack his shit up when they were… she wanted to say together, but depending on how sorry for herself she was feeling, she had conflicting opinions on that. nevertheless, when the familiar figure of the bassist approached, she couldn’t help the thousand watt smile that developed before she knew it. “that was a great set, sloane,” she admitted, stepping down from the curb she’d been balancing on. “and i only have one giant bruise to cover up at work, that’s easy street.”

if you had asked liam sloane what his favourite band was eighteen months ago, he would have definitely said leech fragment. that answer hasn’t changed since at all in the five years since him and xan had their first jam sesh. be your own biggest fan, right? except for a while there, he wasn't. they had a small but loyal fanbase of angsty teens and general dropkicks, but no one had ever backed them as hard as june had. her absence had been noted; not even just by liam. comments about the tiny rockstar shaped hole in their audience had met awkward silence at many band practices in the first few months following their break-up, if you want to call it that. however, life had gone on and until the last fortnight, it had become easy to forget to notice. 

june’s bedroom floor had always been the place for their late night conversations and locked-eye smiles through a two hour long queue of their fave tracks. the warm haze of that christmas night had dug all of those memories back up again and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them just yet. but tonight? renegades was lit up, and he’d had another week to dive into the band and ignore the world outside. this gig turned out to be different, they were only halfway through  ‘mitochondria’ when liam noticed june pushing her way to the front. watching her thrash around among deadbeats twice her size lit a fuse in liam that he had been so sure was burnt out by now.

after an hour of aggressive rock and secondhand weed smoke, he emerged from the back of the tin-can of a venue, guitar case in hand, to find june---- and more weed smoke. not that he was complaining, about either one. liam hadn’t been sure that she was going to stick around, but the smile on her face was like sunshine to him, and he realized how glad he was that she had. shit.  "had to send it, didn’t i?” he started, pulling an aged leather jacket onto his shoulders. “to welcome you back properly.” liam grinned at her bruise talk. “only one? don’t tell me you’ve gone soft, june.”

[licmsloane]

dottie.

@licmsloane

“Sittin’ here, eatin’ my heart out waitin’ Waitin’ for some lover to call Dialed about a thousand numbers lately Almost rang the phone off the wall”

Dottie practically floated between the rows of records, broom in hand (which of course, she had repurposed into her mock microphone). It was well after closing time, meaning disco was finally fair game, and so was dancing around the shelves while butchering a Donna Summer impression.

“Lookin’ for some hot stuff, baby this evenin’ I need some hot stuff, baby tonight I want some hot stuff, baby this evenin’ Gotta have some hot stuff Gotta have some love tonight“

Once she was in it, it was hard to get Dorothy out of her groove. It was a skill that made her an entertaining performer, and awful at most other things. Soon enough, she’d abandoned the broom and instead twirled around the empty record store until the sound of knuckles against the glass assumed her attention. 

“Shit, shit..!”

Of all people, of course it was Liam who had been watching her make a fool of herself for God knows how long. It was too late to hide now, the glass paneling had already revealed all. Her pale cheeks flushed bright red long before she was able to dash towards the door and fumble with the tricky lock (the stupid fudging thing) to allow him inside. 

“Just… How much of that did you see?”

liam has always been a night owl, favoring midnight walks with headphones and cigarette smoke swirling through the light from dim streetlamps. it’s late, but tonight, it was his parents’ turn to host the fortnightly PTA barbecue. they always ended up drunk on chardonnay and bragging about their talented eleven-to-twelve year olds until past the date change, so here he was-- black sabbath blasting through headphones that needed replacing, taking the scenic route through dingle’s bustling CBD. 

the chocolate mint milkshake he’d stopped to grab was half empty by the time he neared echo records. liam couldn’t even see the front of the store yet, but he could hear some ghastly tune blasting from all the way down the street. disco? did he forget the part of the night where he died and went to hell? 

as he continued his way down the road, he couldn’t help himself but peer in to see what on earth was going on----- and he stopped completely when he saw dottie twirling away inside. liam’s face spread into an incredulous grin as he watched the interesting performance. 

"oh, pretty much all of it.” liam replied, chuckling as he stepped into the record store, leaning back against the door as it slowly swung shut. he could almost feel her cheeks burning from where he was standing. “you sure i’m not interrupting the uh... disco fever?” amusement still woven through his words, he couldn’t even help it.

[licmsloane]

miles.

SK8 2GETHER | @liamsloane

miles is unsure how he got here, really. 

how he’d gathered the gall in his forever passive heart to speak up, throw a casual invite to dinky rink liam’s way. how he was now standing — very un-casually — against the wall of the rink, bright blue skates already laced, anxiously waiting for liam to arrive. 

why liam actually agreed to this was possibly the most puzzling of all.

it would’ve been easy enough to pretend that this was nothing but two old friends reconnecting, with the promise of employee discounts on mediocre cheese pizza, crappy arcade games in desperate need of repairs, and an 80s themed skate session. that is, if he wasn’t who he is: a chronic overthinker who’s been single for far too long. instead, he’s stuck with the lingering thought that buzzes around in his brain like a fly — this is almost a date, isn’t it?

he shoves that thought back down as quickly as it resurfaces when liam enters through the doors and steps onto the garishly patterned neon flooring, and skates forward to greet him. 

“hey! you actually came!” there’s a smile on his face, one of both genuine joy and extreme anxiety. “sorry about the, uh… smell? i’m pretty sure dave burned the corndogs again.” 

standing in the lobby, with a rented out pair of lime green roller skates, liam feels like a bit of an ass. he’s always been more of a ‘hammers and strong arms’ kind of guy, rather than a... coordinated one. but cheap pizza and the thought of reconnecting with someone who he’d once laughed so much with, had made it difficult to turn down miles’ offer.

liam had been surprised to see him in retrograde, a group he actually thought was pretty badass, and even though he’s unsure as to whether miles is still the same mega-nerd he knew in school, at least he grew up to not look like a mega-nerd. 

with a sigh that signaled the last of his dignity leaving his body, he pushes open the doors, and takes a seat at the bench inside as he sees miles skating towards him. “what, you think i was gonna stand you up?” liam questions with a smile, beginning to lace up the ghastly coloured skates. 

he hadn’t even noticed the smell until miles brings it up, there’s a shrug as liam stands, and immediately scrambles to stay standing. this was gonna be embarrassing. “i didn’t even know those things had enough real food in them to burn.”

[licmsloane]

june.

not at all flustered by liam’s manners, which had always served as evidence of his punk/suburban duality and just tickled june, she made her way inside rosie’s past his open arm. the waitress waiting to seat them wasn’t who she expected - though she had no reason to expect their old regular waitress to be waiting for them after all this time - but took them to a familiar booth and asked for their drink orders. june realized most of the booths in rosie’s were familiar, though, filled with memories of shooting straw wrappers at each other and getting milkshake on their headphones as they shared yet another dead kennedys song.

“mm, same. nothing makes me hungrier than punching drunk phonies in the pit,” she mused since she might as well have been holden caulfield. she opened her menu even though she knew she was going to get the same fucking thing she’d always gotten. it was genuinely unhealthy how many times a week she gave up on nourishing herself after work and dragged whoever she’d closed with at the theater to get a turkey-bacon club at rosie’s. someday she would learn to be a good wife to her roommates and cook, but that day sure as hell hadn’t come yet. especially if liam was offering to pay… whatever the reason was, guilt or otherwise.

it was warm inside the restaurant, probably in an attempt to overwhelm the cold that threatened its way inside every time someone new entered the building. and, considering for a second time that there was nowhere to eat in town except rosie’s and some really shitty chains, there was usually someone coming in or out. by the time the waitress came back with their drinks just to run off again, june had already taken her hoodie off and had it in a pile next to her. “i swear to god, i’m never the right temperature,” she complained, dipping her straw into her chocolate banana milkshake, another staple of the ‘50s diner aesthetic that june couldn’t help but adore. she was in the kind of mood where she adored everything, though. she was warm and hazy, not unusual since there was nothing else to do in a town as tiny and, well, wack as theirs. “what have you been listening to lately?” she asked after wracking her brain for something neutral to talk about.

it had been a long time since liam had come to rosie’s. for everyone who’d asked (which was almost no one), his sudden interest in home-eating had come from an article he’d read that said that men who can cook were way more attractive than men who just offer up shit from the five-dollar menu at taco bell (though, he wasn’t gonna name names...)  really, though, he knew that june was here almost 24/7, and for the six months that followed him deleting the heart emoji from her contact name, the idea of eating a whole meal with her perched in the booth behind him? was worth learning to cook to avoid. 

in saying that, now that they were here, the food smelled heavenly and he kinda regretted staying away as long as he had. cheeseburger and fries ---- his order hadn’t changed, neither had hers. liam gave a quick thanks to the waitress as their drinks were delivered. two milkshakes; one chocolate banana, one salted caramel. the worrying feeling of nostalgia that had been swirling around before was almost palpable now. so as he tried to think of something non-controversial to say, he busied himself with trying to shimmy his leather jacket off of limbs that were far too long to do so comfortably in this booth.

luckily, june was one step ahead of him--so he shoved his jacket into a pile beside him and settled into his seat. music was something they could always spend hours yarning about, and it was neutral enough, right? “not a whole lot of new stuff. if i’m honest.” liam paused, taking a sip from his quirky metal straw, “though-- and remember that i still know how to get into your bedroom without making a sound, i’ve been kinda into paramore’s old stuff lately.”  he wasn’t proud of himself, and wasn’t sure why he didn’t just grunt ‘the clash, like always’, but it felt good to get his dirty laundry off his chest. 

[promptsareus-blog1]

Send me a “📱” and I will answer the following:

What was my muses 5 last sent texts yours?

What was my muses 5 last unsent texts yours.?

What was my muses last snapchat to yours?

What my muse saved your number as?

What contact photo my muse has set for yours?

What ringtone my muse has set for yours?

How many times my muse has called your this week?

How many calls has my muse missed from yours?

[middlescjool]

[merrymusings]

“Just because I let you go doesn’t mean I wanted to.”

— (via dullhypotheses)

[licmsloane]

connor.

“woooow,” he sighed. “i see how it is. you think it’s cool to call me un-sexy or whatever when you know,” he paused, “that i totally am and you’re wrong.” he dabbed and knocked over a whole row of mascaras. “…i meant to do that.”

stunned. liam was stunned. the dab itself was enough to give him actual physical pains, but the sound of the mascaras crashing to the floor? connor seemed to reach a level of stupidity that scientists thought impossible for a mere mortal. “ gonna ignore that comment. ”  he said, laughing through his words, and kicking at the wayward make up with his shoe. “ that was literally god himself telling you to quit it with the dabs. ”

[wordsnquotes]

Loneliness becomes an acid that eats away at you.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via wordsnquotes)

[the-memedaddy]