Jeremy: Michael, How Did You Find Me?

after Qiu finishes training to Jian yi

｡ﾟ( ﾟ^∀^ﾟ)ﾟ｡

true love by pink playing in the background

—“From the moment I met Robin Tunney, I looked at her and I said, ‘You will be mine’.” -Simon about Robin

—“He is my TV husband and I love him. He’s very handsome so he’s fun to look at all day long. And he has very nice hair.” -Robin about Simon

it had always been eddie.

it had been eddie when richie was seven years old and a small, pale boy started playing with him and bill on the playground. richie hadn't even heard the word "gay" yet, but he knew the way he felt about eddie was special.

it had been eddie when richie was eleven years old, and he made his first mixtape for eddie. there was lots of disco, lots of wham! and george michael, all the stuff richie knew his friend liked. he snuck in a few love songs, hoping eddie wouldn't notice. and if he did, well, he never mentioned it.

it had been eddie when richie was thirteen years old, and they killed a clown over summer break. even when he had forgotten all about derry, about the losers, about eddie, he could remember the heat of eddie's skin against his own, when they clung onto each other in bill's garage, when he cradled eddie's face in neibolt, when he held eddie's hand during their oath.

it had been eddie when richie was fifteen years old, and he got his first girlfriend. she was shorter than him, with short dark hair, and was a clean freak. she wore short shorts and a fanny pack, and richie knew exactly what it meant. they dated for three months before she called it off. she kissed him on the cheek and told him she hoped he figured himself out, and when he did, to call her. she was nice, pretty. but she wasn't eddie.

it had been eddie when richie was seventeen years old, and he started wearing leather jackets and got his ears pierced, while eddie started wearing oversized sweaters and overalls. the sleeves of eddie's sweaters all covered his hands, and richie was mesmerized by the way he delicately rolled them up. they were lab partners in chemistry that year. richie had never been happier about anything in his whole life.

it had been eddie when richie was twenty-one years old, and already starting to forget. he had put states between himself and derry. between himself and eddie. sometimes he would catch himself forgetting eddie's name, having to say it over and over in his head, like a prayer.

it had been eddie when richie was twenty-seven years old, and had his first sold out show. he was still writing his own jokes back then, and, while he didn't know who he was writing his jokes for, he knew there was someone out there that his script was tailored for. someone who would have laughed hysterically at every joke he told. he thought he saw him in the audience, a man with dark hair and a fanny pack, but he lost him in the crowd. he stopped writing his own jokes soon after.

it was eddie when richie was thirty-one years old, and he bought his first house. he owned multiple first aid kits, two on every floor, and, curiously, each one was stocked with an inhaler. richie had never had asthma. but he left them, as taking them out felt so inherently wrong he wanted to throw up. he bought furniture with someone else in mind, always had vanilla ice cream in stock, and kept a plethora of cleaning supplies under every sink. he felt like he was sharing the house with a ghost of someone he once knew. and he liked it.

it was eddie when richie was forty years old, and he remembered. he remembered everything. he saw his friend, silhouetted by the glow of the fish tank behind him, and everything hit him like a truck. he remembered his laugh, his hands, his warm skin, his floppy hair richie had always wanted to run his fingers through. he remembered falling in love.

it was eddie when richie was forty years old, and he lost the love of his life. he felt the claw through eddie's chest like it was his own, prayed to anyone, anything that eddie made it out all right. he clutched eddie's lifeless form to his body, hating the way the warmth of his skin was already beginning to fade. it should have been him. someone, anyone but eddie. he clung on to eddie, even as the cave began to crumble, and would have stayed there with the only man he ever loved were it not for his friends. he left his heart there with him, down in that cave under neibolt.

it was always eddie, richie thought, as he recarved his secret declaration of his love. it always has been, and always would be, eddie kaspbrak.

Mr. Darcy really had some nerve accusing Jane Bennett of not adequately expressing her love for Bingley like he didn’t spend half the novel talking shit about Elizabeth to her damn face

This surreal experience was important to be sharing with you people.

Since Spooky week starts this week 

Spooky Week Day 1 : The Groom

“Darling.

Did I frighten you? I’m awfully sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

@amazingphil​ 

Artist: @genen0x​ (permission to post)

~Please don’t repost/remove text~ Reblogs are appreciated!

(Click for better quality)

its been a while, but they made it out of the asylum without Miles killing anyone.

(yeah, Miles is using cologne)

Little extra: