Closed Starter: @blakemadden​

What’s something your muse has done, in canon or in a thread, that just makes you Love ThemTM?

God, I hate that I love him because he's so fucking annoying. He's the type muse that'd whisper in your ear what he wants to do. And there are so many questionable things that's done. But I can't help but love how charming he is? Like if he's sincere about anything, it's how he genuinely means every ounce of affection he gives away. Even if the quantity of that affection is again - questionable - even if he means it. He's just my lonely emo boy, and I just want him to feel loved without looking for it everywhere but himself.

man some of the seven deadly sins aren’t even that bad. sorry I’m angry n wanna fuck? Sorry I ate a lot? shut up

I am not violent. I am not malicious. I am a result.

Death, The Book Thief (via literatureandfilms)

xbhandri​:

@le0davis​

“Okay but listen. Hear me out. The stage lights pop on. We’re standing in a line. The piano starts playing. Everyone immediately gets emotional. Suddenly everyone knows how many minutes are in a year. Is it stable? No. It’s New York City in the 1980′s during the AIDs epidemic. We’re here. We’re queer. We’re dying and Regan isn’t doing shit about it. You know what will fix approximately none of our problems? Love.” Xavier had found out they were reviving RENT again and he would throw Wicked down the drain if he could land a roll. He was nearing the end of his contract anyway. He could just switch from one to another, right? He had only been on the stage for a handful of years, and while Fiyero have him everything he could ever want, the roll while main wasn’t big. He wanted more. He wanted more meaning. 

A scarecrow was all find and dandy, but it wasn’t the love of his life, the dream role. Angel Dumott Schunard. He still didn’t know if she was a trans woman, a drag queen, or genderfluid, but to dress up as Mrs Claus and prance around a stage, only to die in the most emotional Broadway death known to man? He could still remember the first time he saw the musical and how it had changed his whole damn life. 

“Leo, it’s not stable, but nothing in life is. Do you want your baby thinking her dad is lame? Those who can’t act teach. Audition with me.”

-

Leo’s mouth opened in the middle of Xavier’s spiel. He so clearly saw the cast in a line singing ... Seasons of Love straight out into the audtence. The two friends had confinded in each other that their dream roles were in RENT. A show that was in the pre-production of returing back to broadway. He understood that to Xav that it was an oppurtunity that must be taken. But Leo wasn’t as starry eyed. 

“Don’t bring Mira into this.” He said, becoming slightly defensive at the mention of his daughter. Though that was chord that needed to be struck. Leo actually heard what Xavier meant. Being an acting coach was always supposed to be temporary. Something to do until he had gotten a break. But it took over, he began auditioning less to not at all. He fell into his own hell of repeating the same day over and over. So much so that he became a regular at a bar, and developed a dependency on alcohol and sex just to get through a Monday. This wasn’t how life was supposed to be. This isn’t the spotlight he was meant for. He sat there unaware of the spark that was growing in his chest.

His eyes still looking at his best friend incredulously. “I - Xav - you can’t really truly think that I’d ever be good enough to get Roger.” He was scared.  It was a huge leap into auditioning. Maybe he could start off small in non-speaking roles. He didn’t want to take that risk of auditioning for a role he had always coveted. He wasn’t as brave as Xavier. “You are no doubt in my mind are going to get Angel. Just gotta practice the drums. I, on the other hand, am gonna get laughed out at the door with no credits to my name.”

text; leo ⇄ xav

xav: OH MY GOD BLAKES BABY IS YOURS?!

xav: WHAT

xav: TF

xav: wow i was not prepared for that

xav: hows your wife feel about that daddy

leo: if you're in any way smiling or laughing, I will get you

leo: I haven't told her

leo: thankfully work is keeping her busy so I'm just processing

text; leo ⇄ danny

leo: pour one out for me, buddy, cause I'm so dead

annalisechambersx​:

Annie knew she could be a lot. that was just…who she was. She liked to speak to people and just mingle with society. It was fun. Plus, you never knew when you would make a great new friend just by meeting someone randomly in a bar. Sure, this in front of her seemed a little put off by the sudden appearance of her (which she understood), but she was going to try her best to make a friend tonight.

She smiled softly as the other spoke, nodding her head, “Most bar food is pretty subpar, you know? But there’s just something about this place. I don’t know what it is.” She giggled and shrugged, “Would you want some of the wings?” She asked, her eyes lighting up a bit, “I could never eat a full batch by myself.” She paused and waved her hand, “They’re on me, I promise. I don’t want a penny.”

Leaning over the bar, Annalise tapped the top a few times and soon enough, the bartender was wandering over and he was ordering an order of mild wings and a beer for the gentleman as well. Holding her drink tightly, she turned back towards him with a smile, “I’m Annalise, by the way. But you can call me Annie if you like. It’s a bit quicker.” She giggled, “I hope I’m not…interrupting you or anything. Or if you were waiting for a friend or something. Oh, I’m sorry I am!”

-

The dive bar on the ninth was arguably Leo’s current favorite place in the city. So she wasn’t wrong about there being an essence to it. But he kept see-sawing in his mind if wanted to keep up with this conversation. It wasn’t her at all. Her sunny disposition and energy is what he should be striving towards. He was just far too stubborn to. He’d put a damper to her night, if this interaction continued. He didn’t deem himself as a particularly nice person unless it was useful to him. Add alcohol to that equation, and you got a more than chaotic Leo. But the light in her eyes, and her continuous graciousness kept him responding. “I could have some wings.” He said, accepting the free food. He might as well eat something so he could drink even more without getting sick. Good plan. 

He stayed quiet as he watched her place in her order. When she ordered a beer, specifically for him, he couldn’t help but cringe. Even though it was a completely nice gesture. Leo detested beer like it’s whole existence offended him. Carbonated, fermented hops and yeast juice? That beer? Fuck, no. He wasn’t planning on pretending he was a fan of it either. “I’m Leo, and no, I’m alone.” He informed her and then he tilted his head at her. “Annie, did you know you’re so overtly happy?” He questioned with a lifted brow. 

The sound of a glass mug being placed in front of him, took his attention. It was the beer, ice cold, with fragrant foam head. He swallowed and pushed it towards her space on the bar top as he held his breath. “I can’t drink that. It’s gonna taste like beer and I hate that.” He said, not hiding his dismay one bit.

renfarber​:

She hadn’t realized how nervous she’d been until she saw him smile. This apartment was her, all over, just the essence of who she was splashed all over the walls. It was her, and it was Max, and so it mattered to Ren if Leo liked it. If he liked them. She didn’t know how to feel about that mattering to her, so… she just pushed it down with all the other feelings she had right now. They could come back out after some whiskey untangled them.

She dragged a chair over to the counter so she could reach the top shelf of the cabinet. She wasn’t entirely sure why she kept the liquor up here - it wasn’t as though Max could get into it at seven months old - but it was always good to make things like that hard to reach. For emergencies only. And this definitely counted. On her way down, Leo handed her one of Max’s toys, and she smirked. “Thank you.”

“Max is with my mom,” she said, getting ice out of the freezer. “I should text her, actually. She should probably keep him overnight.” Her eyes flicked up to him, knowing how he’d take that. She held up a finger. “Because we’re drinking. And we need to talk without a crying baby. You stay two feet away from me,” she smirked. She shouldn’t be joking about this, not when he had a wife, not when he had a baby with her best friend… it just… came so easily. 

She poured two drinks and passed one over, sitting at the table and sending a quick text to her mom. Seconds later, her phone beeped, and she rolled her eyes, texting again and then turning off her phone. 

“Mom says hi,” she smirked. Gloria had always loved Leo. Even now, after Ren had cried on her shoulder about the mess they were in. It was disloyal, honestly. But Ren supposed it was only fair, since she didn’t hate Leo either. She sighed, pulling her braids over one shoulder, and looking at Leo. “So… how’d you meet your wife?”

-

Leo’s brows immediately quirked up at Ren’s words, taking them just as suggestively as she assumed he would. He couldn’t help but break into a small laughter at the finger she had held up. He held his hands up and sat at the table at the furthest one from where she was currently. “Two feet it is.” He agreed though he did find it funny how she needed the physical distance from him. Like he had a pull. Though he felt the same way about her lips. 

He watched as she poured the drinks. His eyes admiring the caramel hue a bit too closely. It had been a minute since he was able to indulge. It was getting a lot harder to sneak away. His hand couldn’t help but tap on the counter till the drink was passed over to him. From there he had taken a well measured first sip while she was distracted with her phone.

“Tell Gloria, I said hey,” he smiled that shit eating grin that was just a permanent reaction to when his ego was stroked. Though that grin had immediately left his lips at the mention of his wife. His forehead wrinkled as he pulled his brows together, he laughed once before replying, “You don’t wanna talk about that.” He said openly refusing to answer. “We have other things to talk about.” He said quite solemnly as he brought his drink to his lips. 

YOU | 2.03 “What Are Friends For?”

PULP FICTION (1994)