#1984 meme

[geminisee]

via worldwidearchives

[the-shriveler]

Would you shrivel the whole entire 1984 meme if I asked really really nicely

Absofruitly I can diggity darn do that BOOM BA BA BA BOOM SHRIVELED !!! 🤏🤏🤏

[perfect-cecilos]

You go babygirl

[metalichotchoco]

Don’t listen to them keep sucking his flat face

[givemeyourfaceplzzz]

old-ahh meme for old-ahh book

[v10l3t-jpg]

[disintegrativeruin-blog]

you bleed (we crawl like animals)

In a totalitarian society where love is illegal, our characters have fallen head first into it with one another. Send "1984" for my character's last thoughts and words to yours as the police break down the door to take them away for rehabilitation by torture.

They hate one another from the very beginning. 

Luz is all hard edges sharpened further by time; she is anger simmering beneath the surface of her skin and dissatisfaction coiling tight in her belly. She spits venom and locks herself up tight and Josephine doesn't even want to try, she doesn't, except she has always been too stubborn for her own good and she looks at Luz and sees a challenge and thinks that she can conquer it.

(And that is the best way to describe Luz Carrey: a challenge.)

Two months into their not quite friendship (because they are not friends, not even close; it doesn't matter if they talk and see one another on weekends, when their friends see one another and drag them too), Luz breaks into her apartment and Josephine grabs the baseball bat she keeps by the front door as soon as she walks in. The bat is over her shoulder, gripped tight in her hand, and she's ready to swing when Luz comes breezing around the corner. Josephine screams and Luz looks at her as though she's crazy, like she knew all along she would come home one day to find Luz there. What the fuck are you doing, Luz says, and it is not a question but a statement. 

(It is the first time Josephine sees Luz smile, really smile, and the first time she hears her laugh. She likes the sight and sound of them both more than she should.)

Three months into their not quite friendship and they are seeing each other every day. They talk more than they ever have and they drink cheap bottles of red wine that stain their lips and teeth deep plum. They still argue because Luz is still Luz and she is still Josephine and they are too stubborn, both of them, to change themselves or one another. Josephine wakes up to Luz asleep on her sofa, red hair across a borrowed pillow, and comes home to a cake on her birthday. 

Five months into their not quite friendship and it is no longer not quite and it is likely no longer friendship, either, because Josephine leans over one night when they are sitting together on the sofa and kisses Luz's wine-stained mouth before she can think better of it. She pulls back too quick, eyes wide and frightened, because she has never kissed a woman before in her life and she never planned to and she is afraid, so afraid, that Luz is going to run.

She surprises both of them when she doesn't. She surges forward, quickquickquick, and kisses her the way Josephine imagined Luz would kiss someone: hard and fast and a little angry, a little frightened, like she is pouring herself out and into someone else.

She wakes up with Luz's hair on her pillow this time, coppery, too bright red in the sunlight that spills in through her still open blinds. Carefully, slowly, she runs the tips of her fingers across the curve of Luz's back and shoulder until Luz says, I can feel that, stop it, and she jerks her hand back.

They keep it a secret because they have to, because people are not supposed to be in love, because love is wrong, illegal, a foreign concept, because girls are not supposed to look at one another and feel electricity crackle between them, tangible. 

They keep it a secret, but seven months into their not quite friendship that is something else entirely, someone finds out.

There are three doors and four stories in between the street and Josephine's apartment, in between us and them, but it's hardly a barrier at all in the grand scheme of things; wood and brick and nails are not infallible and they learn that too quickly, too easily.

Someone pounds on the door and there's a crack and a sharp snap, wood splintering, and Josephine looks at Luz and her heart leaps into her throat. Luz looks like she did when they first met, hard and sharp and fierce, this electric, terrifying girl. 

Josephine reaches out and their fingers tangle together and she thinks that maybe she wouldn't trade this for anything, even if it was too short, even if they wasted too much time, even if it means nothing in the end. There is a smile in the corner of her mouth even if she is terrified, standing there with wet eyes and a heart beating too fast. 

I'm sorry, she wants to say, but she doesn't know what for.

(For falling in love with a girl on fire, maybe; for falling in love with someone at all.)

The door splinters, but Josephine doesn't let go.

[magichotline-blog]

1984

Fight or flight.

At first she fought to deny the attraction towards him. Bonnie met him through Elena who decided to drag her towards a Salvatore get together. They were known for their lavish parties and how often they would be the talk of the town. If you were invited, they’d be treated differently the next day. 

Elena seemed to be conversing with the younger Salvatore, Stefan. One look at Elena and Bonnie could tell she was intrigued, almost interested. It was then he approached her telling her that a lady like her shouldn’t be alone. Yet, Bonnie’s quite used to that notion with a mother who ran off to god knows where and a father who chose his business over his daughter. Then he attempted to use his own charm on her but she wouldn’t budge.

He saw it as a challenge and she saw it as arrogance. She believed he saw it like that because she was the only one to turn him down.

From that day on, she swore she ran into him often whether it was chance or Elena hanging around Stefan. 

Yet she kept pretending it wasn’t there. She knew the rules, she would be bestowed with the worst punishment. How could it be a crime to love someone? How was it that two wrongs made a right?

Now?It was flight. The little bird has fallen for the crow. Although the crow had claimed he loved her all along. His love filled her, reminded her that despite everything that had happened she could be loved. And she could give her love in return.

She can hear the pounding of the door as the officers attempted to get in. She committed the highest crime, she wasn’t sure how most people would feel about a situation like this. She was sure people would be filled with regret but she wasn’t. 

Bonnie leaned up, her lips crashing against his while her hands rested on his chest. Her lips molded against his with just as much fervor as his hands cupped her cheeks. She didn’t want him to forget this, what they had, and what they had become through all of this. 

This was the most bittersweet goodbye she ever had to give.

"I love you." 

As she finally broke away, she took a deep breath as the cops entered in. 

"It was worth it. I’d do it again."

Her hands were up in the air as they approached her.

This was their love story.