Comments | lolocracy: HERE COME THE... GROOMS!

longlivesealand in lolocracy

HERE COME THE... GROOMS!

Sep 02, 2010 19:44

WHO: The newlyweds and the wedding guests.
WHEN: September 2nd, Thursday.
WHERE: Berwald's house.
WHAT: Peter and Raivis' wedding. What else.

( Because Carrie and Kuro are both sick out of their mind... this is the result. )

this shit just got real, wales, england, you're doing what with my brother?!, is this real life?, sealand, ebay family, can you feel teh ghey tonight?, republic of ireland, ur vital regions r mine, married married married, taiwan, you're not a part of this family!, status: complete, all you need is love, south africa, this thread just got awesome, sweden, what are you doing here?, this thread will give you cavities, latvia, northern ireland, russia, b-but i'm allergic to crying..., big brother is watching you, america, new zealand

Comments 11

[1/2] godsavemy September 3 2010, 05:59:57 UTC

I-I apologize for being so long-winded...it just happened?
---Arthur lurked in the background for the ceremony, mussed hair and instantly recognizable eyebrows shrewdly hidden under a bowler hat he had found in the back of his closet. Along with it he traded his well-worn sweater vest for a simple suit that wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention ( ... )

[2/2] godsavemy September 3 2010, 06:25:15 UTC

Of course, Arthur found himself opening the doors and riffling around, half-hoping that he wouldn’t find anything appropriate and be rid of this utterly daft urge ( ... )

Oh Arthur, you cad. pride_of_kiwi September 3 2010, 16:45:11 UTC

It was a lovely wedding.

From what John could suss peering out through his piss drunk stupor, it was a fantastically simple, modest little affair that well suited the couple throwing their lot in together with reckless abandon- two men still incredibly young. Perhaps such was the reason the decor struck him as surprisingly mild. Pastel strands of ribbon and flowers scattered all over, good to get tangled in upon attempting to sit down. Lovely to look at when any unwanted attention vaguely floated his way.

And it did, if only briefly, because it really was in poor taste to attend a relative's wedding absolutely written but John hadn't been able to resist drinking himself raw. Come dawn, it had simply superseded his need for air; it had become air itself. A danger to stop that he was only able to quit upon the hazy recollection that the suit hanging from his closet door actually meant something.

Like the vows Peter and his partner exchanged before a man he needed a translator for. Like the tears that welled in the corners of his ( ... )

meiume September 4 2010, 02:57:59 UTC

Mei had to grip the tulle on the plastic chair to stop herself from crying out loud at the ceremony. It was too beautiful; simply too mind-blowing, too heartwarming to see two beautiful boys getting married and what would definitely happen once they get back to their hotel room or wherever they would be spending the night. Just the thought of Raivis being topped made Mei felt...

Guilty.

She'd admit it; most of tears in her eyes were product of guilt. She couldn't forgive herself for what she did to poor innocent Raivis-chan who seemed so happy that his now-husband was being aggressive! It wasn't her fault she got carried away; it was Peter Kirkland's fault for not being the man that Raivis deserved.

Mei could play the blaming game all day long if it would help her sleep at night. Besides from blaming the eyebrows kid, Mei's time was occupied with ogling the deliciously handsome Irishman standing behind the groom and the sexy-as-ever Swedish Samurai. Once the ceremony was completed, she dropped off her unmarked gift on the pile and ( ... )

not_whales September 4 2010, 05:08:08 UTC

Even in the midst of Come Fly with Me, Dewi had to fight the urge to smile - to any signer, a terrible notion, as Frank Sinatra was never meant to sound so bright. But he smiled, at Peter, at Raivis, and at Arthur’s sulking form in the corner. He stood upon the elevated stage, decked out in black, white, and a bowtie, with five students plucking and grinding their violins and bass strings behind him.

He would have sung until his voice went hoarse, and it seemed to feel that way between sips of wine, swallows of ice water, and the next request. Love songs, break for water and let the DJ take over, another love song, and then a slice of cake. A clap on the shoulder, a toast to the couple; his present shone in an opal wrapping paper and powder blue ribbon. A number of familiar faces shone in the fluorescent disco lights of the dance floor - a few students, relatives, and perhaps he was imagining things when he caught a glimpse of his former therapist - but he wasn’t one for dancing, especially in the strange ways these children danced ( ... )

das_vedanya September 4 2010, 07:57:13 UTC

That evening, Ivan felt like he was leaving for a shift at the restaurant. He wore the same dark-cherry collared shirt, black slacks, and ebony vest. He adjusted his black tie in the mirror lazily, already tied into knots because his scarf would be covering it. It already hung over his shoulders, even as he pulled his coat: Ebony, significantly more different than the beige he grew accustomed to, though still in the possession of his American nuisance, who, ironically, would be joining him that night ( ... )