tweet me- arthur
Send my muse a ‘tweet me!’ and my muse will respond with a tweet using this generator.
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tweet me- arthur
Send my muse a ‘tweet me!’ and my muse will respond with a tweet using this generator.
@alexandraaragrey tweets:
just landed in manchester so i can see my internet bestie!! I’m so excited!!! #finally #forthefirsttimeinforever
Alexandra was so excited to finally meet Arthur in person. The two had met over twitter, then they exchanged facebook, tumblr, skype, and phone numbers. The french woman could still remember when she and Arthur had first gotten into contact, around when Alexandra was still in college. She could barley ever put her phone down.
The first time they had skyped, Alexandra had almost died of nerves. it was something that she had never down, but she never regretted it.
Now, here she was, standing in Manchester airport with her blue luggage that she had bought just for this. It was her first time out of the country in a long time, so long she had to renew her passport.
With a deep breath she began to walk, pulling her luggage along; her eyes skimmed the crowd, looking for her friend.
Finally her eyes widened and she grinned, seeing him. “Arthur! Over here!”
|| mroldtimerocknroll ||
It's freezing cold out and concrete is scraping at his bare back and halfway down his ass. That's the first thing he registers when he wakes up, his eyes blinking open slowly, then scrunching shut again. He flings an arm over his eyes, blocking the sun and trying to shut out the pain searing through his skull, undoubtedly due to a hangover. Of all the places he could've fallen asleep piss-drunk, why the fuck did he do it outside? The next thing he registers is the fact that he can't move because there's something heavy and somewhat warm laying on top of him. He wiggles around a little, trying to dislodge himself from whichever guy - girl - whoever - that he's gotten himself stuck under. Eventually, he gives up. They're sleeping like a rock, whoever they are. Despite his raging headache, he decided to risk a look. The sudden sunshine gives him a pressing pain behind his eyes, but he does his best to ignore it, looking down at the person curled up against his chest. They're cute, whoever they are, he had to admit. They've got a soft, innocent face when they're sleeping - couldn't've been too innocent, though, considering they're snuggled up against him, also disheveled and half-naked - and their eyelids and cheeks are smeared with glitter. Their brown hair, though, is tinged blue with hair chalk and it makes a sinking feeling wash over him all of a sudden because he remembers flashes of him and his blue hair. He shakes his head, suppresses the feeling, runs a hand through the person's hair under the guise of being gentle and sweet, though he's really just trying to brush out the blue.
"New Year’s is always the year’s biggest letdown."
(x)
“Wh—no, it isn’t! It’s the beginning of the year, so it can’t possibly be bad!
Why do you think it’s bad? Did you miss the last ball dropping?”