#(&meme)

[tiutale]

(Oh no poor Glorfindel)

“Rest now, my friend.” Fingolfin applies a cool cloth infused with healing herbs to the sick elf’s forehead.

“I do not believe you acted with anything but selflessness during that horrific period.”

Glorfindel moaned as the feeling of the cloth caused his body to shiver. Burning. He was burning again. And freezing. Screams. Cries. Turgon's agaonizing cry. His wife's soft smile. His mind deaperately gripped onto the familiar voice of his foster father. Calm. Soothing. A place that always sown the feeling of warmth and safety within him. He turmed his head to the voice his mind a wash of confusing images. "Ataya-tried-I wanted-tried-" A tear mingled with the sweat as his fever fought to break

[whiskxyprincx-blog]

waxing: what is your proudest accomplishment?

“The band, without a doubt. If someone had told me six years ago the position I’d be in, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

@caluminthehood, @cliffordcbb, @lukehemmingsbb

[whiskxyprincx-blog]

night light: who/what makes you feel safe?

“This is gonna sound real cheesy but, the band certainly make me feel safe. When you spend so much time with them, especially in a cramped bus, it changes dynamics. Wouldn’t trade ‘em for the world either.

@caluminthehood, @cliffordcbb, @lukehemmingsbb

[tylxrbates]

meme thing for andi

What was my muses 5 last sent texts yours?

[text]: Hey, party at Johnston tonight. Want a lift? [sent at 5:43pm][text]: Five miss calls later and I’m still outside your door. Get your ass out here Knox before I come up there and throw you over my shoulder [sent at 9:25pm][text]: There is a box of your stuff that came from my car after I cleaned it. Wtf do you have so many mix tapes/cds ? [Read at 3:01pm][text]: If you send one more snap and ruin this show for me I’m going to put bleach in your everything [8:57pm][text]: Get some sleep, Andi Dandi. I’ve have to board a plane at five. Night kid x [sent at 10:32pm]

What was my muses 5 last unsent texts yours.?

[text]: Hey. There’s a party tonight at my mates, Johnston - Tayna’s guy. Want to come with me? Pretty sure Zayn hates Tayna so I doubt he wants in. [Rewritten at 5:42pm][text]: You’re beautiful, it surely can’t take you this long to get your ass out the door. I’m coming up [Unsent at 9:25pm][text]: Track 9 isn’t so bad. [Undelivered at 3:03pm][text]: Netflix and Chinese?? Stranger Things  so you don’t ruin anymore for me [rewritten at 8:55pm][text]: Are you awake? [draft at 1:55am]

What was my muses last snapchat to yours?

What my muse saved your number as?

Obnoxious Knox 

What contact photo my muse has set for yours?

What ringtone my muse has set for yours?

Once Dance - Drake 

How many times my muse has called your this week?

Andi and Tyler usually call each other five times a week  - May it be for two minutes or two hours, they tend to call each other about the simple things of ‘are you going to this party? want to ride together?’ to  ‘Can you give me advice about this idea’. They’re very open about that. Since the festival, their usual five calls a week, may it be calling each other more than once a day, had minimized to two calls a week. It’s mostly ‘ Are you at home? I’m on the way over’ or ‘See you at ___ party’s later? Cool’. 

How many calls has my muse missed from yours?

A few. They miss calls when their working, obviously, but ignored calls for not wanting to talk is probably a solid seven. 

[jamiee-wright-blog]

☁ = being caught in the middle a storm with them .

☁ = being caught in the middle a storm with them 

The rim of the bottle was practically glued to her Satan lips. A fist chocked the neck of the bottle as if she was waiting to hear a pop while all around her was the sound of faded music and a few screams that came from here and there. A house party, or what Jamie would have called a low key gathering, came to an end as soon as the thunder threaded through the house and by the time the lightening danced shadows in the hallway all were asleep, or that’s what she thought. Jamie was still in the bar room, lying on the top as she looked out the window as rain fell like tennis balls from a building, down and splash, down and splash. The repetitive saga went on as rain, thunder and lightening brewed the most perfect storm. With her fingers gliding up and down the bottle she rose, pushing her small frame off the counter top and waltzed grace the hall ways, her sweet hushed voice singing 'Moon River'.

Between the journey of the bar to the kitchen she had quenched her thirst thanks to the pure vodka, each drop tickling her senses. Yet, she continued to sing in the storm; she always danced and sung in the storm of life. While in the kitchen she spun lightly on her knee length boots, one hand gripping a discarded yet filled bottle of whiskey while the other was dragged across the kitchen appliances. The rain continued to pat itself against the window, the thunder only louder and the lightening was brighter, but that didn't startle her and neither did the cough that came from whomever entered the kitchen. Playfully drunk, Jamie continued to spin and slowly walk around the kitchen until she had found the source that chuckled at her movement. Taking another swing of her bottle her hand found his chest - the scent of his clone and the masculine chuckle easily gave away his gender. "Creeping is a sin" she muttered taking another swing, her sense completely begone from her. "Now you can fuck off to wherever you came from or else you can drink and dance in the storm".