#purehcrted

​ He’d danced with Stanley. It hadn’t been for long, and LeFou knew that he was likely...blowing it out of proportion. It was a dance, a moment in the middle of a ball filled with other people, filled with friends and all the bodies moving, and they were just two extra ones. But it’d felt like he was somebody else entirely. Something just shy of euphoric, LeFou had felt his eyebrows raise and his jaw drop and his hands slide down without any thought towards Stanley’s hip. And they’d danced. Simple as that.  And LeFou can still feel the music, the rhythm, even now, outside, in the cooler, fresh air. There’s a certain aimlessness as LeFou meanders at Stanley’s side into the garden, barely able  to hear his own thoughts over the heavy ebb of the orchestra and Madame de Garderobe’s lofty soprano, till the hum of voices fade and the music gets further away. He sees a few stray partygoers, here and there, stealing away moments in the shrubs and dewy grass. LeFou averts his eyes out of tact, and focuses more on the pattern of his and Stanley’s shoes as they walk, making their way through the garden illuminated with the light from the castle and the fireflies. In the distance, the song changes. “So, Stanley,” LeFou says, lifting his eyes from the ground and twisted his neck to face Stanley. "I've never known you to be much of a dancer. Why the change of mind?”

Having a Faceclaim to tie to a thread makes things…feel real, even if people say it’s not. I know Rocket isn’t walking and talking beside me when I get food at the mall, and I know in the back of my head, he’s not yelling at that girl for wearing two opposing colors on the color wheel, but if I throw an icon into a thread that matches it, that can make that mental image stronger and more like something you can touch, I think that’s really amazing. 

❝ Heal a fighter and they think they can challenge the entire galaxy. You're supposed to be taking it EASY. Not acting like you're the definition of invincibility. ❞

“Debora?” He asked as he moved over to the girl who was listening to music. 

tja, ich mit meiner Kunst am Ende bin.  Sie ist rücksichtsloser und egoistischer. Aber ist sie nicht Müll.  Aber, meiner Kunst am Ende! :o Ich bin hier!