Today's Document
Xuebing Du
oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Love Begins
KIROKAZE
dirt enthusiast
RMH
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Product Placement
Not today Justin
titsay
⁂
Kaledo Art
Game of Thrones Daily
d e v o n
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
Misplaced Lens Cap
if i look back, i am lost
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@rebelflames
Hey. The names Melody Hayes, and I figured I’d come on here and make a blog to talk about my life and stuff, maybe make friends, maybe not, who knows.
I’m in a band with a few dweeby guys. We call our band Anarchy Angels. Or, more like they do. I never got a say in the name, even though it’s fucking stupid. :/
Anyways, the ask box is open. Don’t ask stupid questions, I’ll fuckin’ rip your teeth out.
how did the party go?
I would much rather die in a fiery blaze than talk about it.
The house party is crowded, and buzzing with life. The air is sticky, and the place reeks of alcohol. Nobody knows who the host is, and nobody really cares. All that matters to most of the kids in attendance, is that there’s alcohol, music, and good bud.
Including Melody, who, clad in a crimson velvet dress and a leather jacket, finds herself dragging Phoebe around akin to a purse puppy as she drinks a bottle of beer a little too quickly. She turns to Phoebe, whose arm she has her own wrapped around, grinning at her. “So, how ‘bout it, kitty? What do you think?”
The environment is certainly not one Phoebe has been in before. The popular folk surrounding them, jocks and cheerleaders, gawk at the show Melody is putting on. More so, the little pet that she’s brought with her as the main attraction. Melody is used to eyes prying into her, but tonight she doesn’t notice. Piercing eyes are not as bright as Phoebe is, so she isn’t looking at anybody else other than her.
@rebelflames, who else?
Phoebe's holding an untouched cup of punch in her unoccupied hand, the smell of whatever was used to spike it hits the back of her throat and makes her stomach twist. She's wearing a white turtleneck under a half-buttoned black collared shirt, the fabric around her neck nearly as suffocating as the party itself. She looks at Melody, beaming up at her, half-lidded eyes and bright red dress. Mel seems almost like her anchor to reality as her mind floats through the choked air. "I think..." She starts, her mouth quirking up into a ghost of a smile. "I don't really belong here." She can feel the eyes on her, she's a stranger in a strange land. "But I'm having fun." It's not a lie, but if Melody weren't here, it would be.
Melody's anchor to this reality is nonexistent, as she throws her head back and takes another swig of her alcohol. Nothing can hold her down. She's a free spirit, after all. Or, maybe, she's constantly out of her own mind. Who can say? Her hips idly sway to the music as she looks at Phoebe. Her doe eyes focus on Phoebe, swallowing before grinning once more. "None of us really belong here, Pheebs." Melody glances around the room, the people's eyes boring into them hardly registering amidst the smoke fog and the idle chatter. "We're all just pretending that we do. Now-- C'mon!" Melody pulls at Phoebe's arm, "Let's walk 'round! See what's what, n' who's who!"
Phoebe wants to swallow her pride the second Melody's eyes meet hers, the second her arm tugs at her own. Her face feels warm, her heart pounds against her chest.
It's dangerous.
“Okay.” She breathes out. She nearly considers finally taking a drink from the cup in her hand, but when the strong smell hits her again, she grimaces and abandons it on a nearby table.
“We can do that.” Phoebe tries not to listen to her mind as she glances at the other partygoers through the corner of her eye.
Melody smirks, pulling Phoebe forward through the crowd. Melody exchanges playful greetings with other partygoers, all while pulling Phoebe around like a stray. Melody hardly realizes how close they are as she pulls her way through the place, taking a swig of her alcohol every few minutes. She can only be brave enough to be with Phoebe with a belly warm from alcohol. Melody's eyes end up zeroing in on a mistletoe clumsily hung over a fireplace. It's tradition, for couples to kiss under the mistletoe, right? Melody turns to Phoebe, smirk widening into a lopsided grin. "Pheeeeebsss...." She coos, placing her near empty bottle down on the floor and taking both of Phoebe's hands. She steps in front of Phoebe, leading them underneath the mistletoe. "Youuuu know the tradition, dontcha?" Melody asks, glancing up at the greenery and then back down to Phoebe. She pulls at Phoebe's shirt collar, "We're supposed to kiss now.." Without warning, Melody's lips are on Phoebe's, in a kiss desperately clumsier than what Melody imagined. It's real. Drunk actions are sober wishes, after all.
Phoebe freezes, red hot blood turning ice cold as their lips meet, she didn't want it to happen like this. “Mel,” she whispers, pulling away. “You're drunk.” Her face isn't angry, nor sad. Just concerned. Her dark blue eyes as stormy as the swirling sea, thoughts being thrown about like guilty sailors.
She puts a gentle hand on her leather sleeve, almost like she's afraid. Afraid for Melody, mostly.
“Are you okay?” She leans in a little closer, trying to search her face. Her attention is turned to the tens of prying eyes she can feel burning holes through her very soul.
“Do you…” she swallows, trying to push down her heart in her throat. “Do you want me to take you home? I can-”
Melody’s hands keep a shaky hold on Phoebe’s shoulders, unfocused eyes blinking dumbly at Phoebe. That is, until Melody takes a minute to look around. She takes it in, studying the prying eyes and the sound of whispering. Melody’s eyes widen, and her hands fly up and off of Phoebe, as if her touch burns. “I didn’t mean to, w-wait-“ Melody rasps, glancing around at the kids around her, less so the audience. “Shit.” Melody grits, eyes flicking around for an exit. “Yeah. Yeah, we sh’ld - g-go. Fuck!” And, with that, Melody steps away, looking down at her shoes and hoping Phoebe will follow as she flies off, like a phoenix.
That would be too easy of an ending, though, wouldn’t it? Phoebe and Melody walking away, with only a slight stain on their reputations? Hah! Nope. Not in the cards, I’m afraid. Somebody Melody knows, steps forward, whistling lowly. Maybe one of Melody’s exes, maybe not. Either way, the words he says are vile. “Ahh, turnin’ Mel into a little dyke, huh?” He taunts, laughing a dry laugh with no real humor in it. “I betcha would want Mel, huh? Social rejects need some kinda saving grace, and I bet you saw ‘er and thought you were saved. Who do you think you are, walking into this party like you deserve to be here?”
hello everybody following the ait80’s au! I have made a doomsday timeline , so everybody knows where we are in the story
( @gh0stofchicago youshouldtotallyreblogthistoo)
IM GONNA SHIT MYSELF
The house party is crowded, and buzzing with life. The air is sticky, and the place reeks of alcohol. Nobody knows who the host is, and nobody really cares. All that matters to most of the kids in attendance, is that there’s alcohol, music, and good bud.
Including Melody, who, clad in a crimson velvet dress and a leather jacket, finds herself dragging Phoebe around akin to a purse puppy as she drinks a bottle of beer a little too quickly. She turns to Phoebe, whose arm she has her own wrapped around, grinning at her. “So, how ‘bout it, kitty? What do you think?”
The environment is certainly not one Phoebe has been in before. The popular folk surrounding them, jocks and cheerleaders, gawk at the show Melody is putting on. More so, the little pet that she’s brought with her as the main attraction. Melody is used to eyes prying into her, but tonight she doesn’t notice. Piercing eyes are not as bright as Phoebe is, so she isn’t looking at anybody else other than her.
@rebelflames, who else?
Phoebe's holding an untouched cup of punch in her unoccupied hand, the smell of whatever was used to spike it hits the back of her throat and makes her stomach twist. She's wearing a white turtleneck under a half-buttoned black collared shirt, the fabric around her neck nearly as suffocating as the party itself. She looks at Melody, beaming up at her, half-lidded eyes and bright red dress. Mel seems almost like her anchor to reality as her mind floats through the choked air. "I think..." She starts, her mouth quirking up into a ghost of a smile. "I don't really belong here." She can feel the eyes on her, she's a stranger in a strange land. "But I'm having fun." It's not a lie, but if Melody weren't here, it would be.
Melody's anchor to this reality is nonexistent, as she throws her head back and takes another swig of her alcohol. Nothing can hold her down. She's a free spirit, after all. Or, maybe, she's constantly out of her own mind. Who can say? Her hips idly sway to the music as she looks at Phoebe. Her doe eyes focus on Phoebe, swallowing before grinning once more. "None of us really belong here, Pheebs." Melody glances around the room, the people's eyes boring into them hardly registering amidst the smoke fog and the idle chatter. "We're all just pretending that we do. Now-- C'mon!" Melody pulls at Phoebe's arm, "Let's walk 'round! See what's what, n' who's who!"
Phoebe wants to swallow her pride the second Melody's eyes meet hers, the second her arm tugs at her own. Her face feels warm, her heart pounds against her chest.
It's dangerous.
“Okay.” She breathes out. She nearly considers finally taking a drink from the cup in her hand, but when the strong smell hits her again, she grimaces and abandons it on a nearby table.
“We can do that.” Phoebe tries not to listen to her mind as she glances at the other partygoers through the corner of her eye.
Melody smirks, pulling Phoebe forward through the crowd. Melody exchanges playful greetings with other partygoers, all while pulling Phoebe around like a stray. Melody hardly realizes how close they are as she pulls her way through the place, taking a swig of her alcohol every few minutes. She can only be brave enough to be with Phoebe with a belly warm from alcohol. Melody's eyes end up zeroing in on a mistletoe clumsily hung over a fireplace. It's tradition, for couples to kiss under the mistletoe, right? Melody turns to Phoebe, smirk widening into a lopsided grin. "Pheeeeebsss...." She coos, placing her near empty bottle down on the floor and taking both of Phoebe's hands. She steps in front of Phoebe, leading them underneath the mistletoe. "Youuuu know the tradition, dontcha?" Melody asks, glancing up at the greenery and then back down to Phoebe. She pulls at Phoebe's shirt collar, "We're supposed to kiss now.." Without warning, Melody's lips are on Phoebe's, in a kiss desperately clumsier than what Melody imagined. It's real. Drunk actions are sober wishes, after all.
The house party is crowded, and buzzing with life. The air is sticky, and the place reeks of alcohol. Nobody knows who the host is, and nobody really cares. All that matters to most of the kids in attendance, is that there’s alcohol, music, and good bud.
Including Melody, who, clad in a crimson velvet dress and a leather jacket, finds herself dragging Phoebe around akin to a purse puppy as she drinks a bottle of beer a little too quickly. She turns to Phoebe, whose arm she has her own wrapped around, grinning at her. “So, how ‘bout it, kitty? What do you think?”
The environment is certainly not one Phoebe has been in before. The popular folk surrounding them, jocks and cheerleaders, gawk at the show Melody is putting on. More so, the little pet that she’s brought with her as the main attraction. Melody is used to eyes prying into her, but tonight she doesn’t notice. Piercing eyes are not as bright as Phoebe is, so she isn’t looking at anybody else other than her.
@rebelflames, who else?
Phoebe's holding an untouched cup of punch in her unoccupied hand, the smell of whatever was used to spike it hits the back of her throat and makes her stomach twist. She's wearing a white turtleneck under a half-buttoned black collared shirt, the fabric around her neck nearly as suffocating as the party itself. She looks at Melody, beaming up at her, half-lidded eyes and bright red dress. Mel seems almost like her anchor to reality as her mind floats through the choked air. "I think..." She starts, her mouth quirking up into a ghost of a smile. "I don't really belong here." She can feel the eyes on her, she's a stranger in a strange land. "But I'm having fun." It's not a lie, but if Melody weren't here, it would be.
Melody's anchor to this reality is nonexistent, as she throws her head back and takes another swig of her alcohol. Nothing can hold her down. She's a free spirit, after all. Or, maybe, she's constantly out of her own mind. Who can say? Her hips idly sway to the music as she looks at Phoebe. Her doe eyes focus on Phoebe, swallowing before grinning once more. "None of us really belong here, Pheebs." Melody glances around the room, the people's eyes boring into them hardly registering amidst the smoke fog and the idle chatter. "We're all just pretending that we do. Now-- C'mon!" Melody pulls at Phoebe's arm, "Let's walk 'round! See what's what, n' who's who!"
You say that and then call her “kitty” in front of us… /silly
Oh, fuck off. I have a party to go to.
what nicknames do you have for phoebe?
Oh, let me think! Well, there’s “none”…. Then you know, if I wanna be super romantic I’ll call her “your”. Sometimes I’ll throw in a little “BUSINESS.”
PARRTTAYYYYY!!!!
YEAH! HELL YEAH! I'm so excited. I hope sneaking Pheebs goes well.
remember when somebody told you phoebe's been a ghost before? do you ever think about how and why that happened?
Probably some high-tech ghostbusting equipment, or whatever the piss. I don't really nose into kitty's work. I tend to try to be a sounding board when shit goes wrong, instead.
do you ever make anything for you to eat at the diner when it's slow/you're on break?
Pillow-soft, syrupy pancakes, baby.
do you relate to any movie characters or songs?
I listen to music to become somebody else, not find myself in it.
I know halloween was a couple months ago, but next halloween you and phoebe should think of dressing up as daphne and velma from scooby doo!
Oh, hell yeah! That would be badass.
does your family have any christmas traditions?
We're boring, I'm afraid. It's the same ol' same ol', I think. I won't be celebrating Christmas with their boring asses for too long this year, I have a party to go to.
thoughts on space?
It's cool, I guess. I like trying to look at the stars even if the NYC smog is a cunt.
what is your fav mythical animal?
Dragons, duh. Dragons are fucking awesome.
Yeah, and she hopes you know how much she loves you.
…Hah.
Alright, alright, and how drunk was she?
