#twenty one pilots Sydney

[disenchantedwhispers]

so… Twenty One Pilots Sydney… got close to Josh and… he looked at me. More than once. We dead ass made eye contact like 3/4 times???? Holy fuck.

[theblurrinessofbeingalive]

[clancy-in-trench]

:. we've made it this far, kid .: |-/

[tunaababee]

i am god's FAVOURITE princess i got all the twenty one pilots tickets for me and my friends!!! my boys are coming back from the war and i will BE THERE!!

truly, shouting 'can't change what you've done, start fresh next semester' will HEAL me.

see you in the pit at sydney!!

[twinsunsintatooine]

manifesting these tøp tix so hard please god let me in tmr morning

[jacksalamander]

Saw Twenty One Pilots live last night on the Clancy world tour, so that’ll be my personality for the next 4-6 weeks.

[veronicawildest]

NAKSHATRA SERIES: OBSERVATION FROM DIFFERENT NAKSHATRAS (TERCERO)

If you're offended just block me. If you get it, you get it, if you don't, fuck off

PURVA PHALGUNI:

When you're in a Laziest competition and the opponent is Purva phalguni native: ☹️🙁🫤😰😰😨😞

They're the 2nd place for being cheesiest interms of being relationship and inlove (I will revealed the winner of this on the next observations)

I realized just I've been googling Sydney Sweeney that her fiance is 13 years much older than her. The Purva phalguni sun celebrities too as well:

Blake Lively (Purva phalguni moon) and Ryan Reynolds

Beyonce (Purva phalguni sun) and Jay Z

Mena Suvari ( Purva phalguni moon) married Richard Brinkmann on March 4, 2000, when she was 21 and he was 37

It's really a pattern and the Opposite sign of leo is aquarius which is saturn.

Purva phalguni love cars. Aside from Elon Musk, Sydney Sweeney has a tiktok account about repairing cars. She has Purva phalguni sun conjunct rahu (intensifying the energy of Purva phalguni)

The physiognomy of this nakshatra is that they have THICK and unruly eyebrows. (Brooke Shields, Taylor Hill) even that i known in my life has this trait

Certain Purva phalguni celebs talks about anxiety and stressed a lot. The lead singer of Twenty One Pilots, Tyler Joseph is a Purva phalguni moon and you can observe that his songs has a lot of topic about this certain extent. Doubt and Stressed are some of this.

They really love music and arts. Claire nakti specifically talk about performing arts but all kinds of arts related to pleasure. They really love it.

Don't let the laziness of this nakshatra fool you. If they have a goal they'll be great at focusing and getting the goal (Just give them a reason to give a F*** to get it but if they really don't care, they be lazy ass about it)

UTTARA PHALGUNI:

Connections are important to them (even if it's shallow at some extend you will observe them social climbing up way to the top)

Friends before hoes nakshatra (The girls of this nakshatra are more hoes into friends they love their partner more than friends tho)

The older partner one that i observe over purva phalguni girls earlier extend to this nakshatra. but for girls too.

Much funnier than you would expect and also not afraid to speak their minds even if someone is gonna get hurt by them. My classmate has this. If she is a celebrity, one second = cancelled!

Now that I've mention that Nicki Minaj has this moon. No wonder why, Some would say her unhinged opinions on certain things is her manifestation at Jyestha, but i would disagree.

(Some unevolved) girls of this nakshatra are not so much girls girl. They don't claim to be one which is fine but you don't need to bring down others. (They doing it for their friends because of connections y'know shittalking)

The abbreviation of I of Uttara phalguni is INDEPENDENT

HASTA:

I underestimated how this nakshatra gets a lot of hate (some of them are understandable tho)

They're great friends tho. they're are f yapper (if they're comfortable at you)

I always observe them. They're like a sexy librarian (common sidereal virgos that i known have a glasses)

If you want a manipulation teacher who can teach you all kinds of manipulation techniques (I'm talking about drawing, forgery and tarots manipulation involving hands) Go to HASTA!!!!!

They're great mimicker and impersonator (not all are accurate but most of them are funny)

Witty nakshatra (they known how to banter)

Females with this nakshatra have MANY male friends.

They're fvcking horny. Don't let the hasta = nun, virgin fool you bruh

Chitra:

Major trolls!! What i mean to be troll is They like to play dumb even if they are not dumb (Extends to Mrigashira and Dhanistha) They're not DUMB.

They have a manipulation for cameras, If hasta excel at being at work or manipulation of paper involving hands, Chitra would excel at editing, photos and also jewels.

Catriona Gray (Miss Universe 2018) has Chitra moon. As you would see, she looks like Olivia Rodrigo (Chitra moon). Her iconic answer in M.U is Silver Lining and correlation of this nakshatra to jewels.

Most of the gay people that i known have this nakshatra

Kylie Jenner has Mars in Chitra conjunct her moon. That's why the influence of the body is very mars like nakshatra (Her sisters that have some Mars nakshatra/Sidereal mars sign have curvy BBL vibes are Kim Kardashian (Chitra sun) Khloe Kardashian (Dhanistha moon) and Kourtney Kardashian (Ashwini Sun))

SWATI

Others expect that Swati would be the Sweet side of the Libra compare to the other two (Libra side of Chitra and Vishakha), They're fvcking BLUNT!!!! They're also proud to be "Scorpios" just like Vishakha.

Common placement to have on Celebrities. Especially on states. The Celebrities we have on my home country is dominated by Mars nakshatra

In the past, I have a crush on this swati guy. First impression to him that he wasn't real (my mind is foggy remembering him, he's the first one I met to be that unique) even tho I spoke and everyday we talk on school (i didn't know vedic astrology when i met him) wasn't aware that i've been channeling this nakshatra and picking up the vibes of him. ( He loves to joke as well)

My interpretation and explanation of why Libra ( extends to Vishakha) are debilitated on this sign is the misguided aggression of this nakshatra. Some would argue that Magha and Purva phalguni have this too (Magha being cocky about it) but Libra are passive aggressive for some reason. They dont know how to properly assert themselves.

Swati are Physically attractive (you're lying if you found one ugly, or just a hater)

VISHAKHA:

I read on tumblr once, I forgot what her tumblr astrology name was but she mention that Vishakha and Cowboy correlation and I agree to this. Beyonce recently made this. In the past Miley Cyrus has Vishkaha moon and she made Jolene cover. Also, Owen Wilson famously play cowboys in his film.

I just don't know how to word this properly but Vishakha looks good (like goody two shoes good noy reffering to good looking) even if they're not (bad attitude).

If were talking about attractiveness of this nakshatra: i would say HOT, SEXY, SEDUCTIVE. Honestly, this nakshatra extends to femme fatale in my opinion.

They're fucking two face ( I know this is the symbol of Purva bhadraphada but Vishakha? Backstabbing if you're UNEVOLVED)

They great at fashion tho. If you want advice just go to Viskaha interms of beauty and fashion. They're great (among all nakshatra i considered them to be great at transforming other people, Claire nakti said this nakshatra was great for makeover so)

[it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined]

is Farscape the sort of thing that takes a few episodes to find its groove? should i be patient if we're not besties right away?

(i'm prone to snap judgements and don't want to make a mistake here)

Ahhhh so Farscape can be a WILDLY interesting study in complete contradictions. I agree with everything Cat Valente says is brilliant about it in this thread and this very long and detailed essay about why you should watch Farscape and yet also I will sit there fast-forwarding great chunks of season one especially because the quality control from episode to episode is so wildly variable. When I say variable, I mean some episodes feel embarrassingly amateur at times, especially after twenty something years of higher budget, vaguely more evolved TV SF. Occasionally it doesn't know what show it's trying to be, or what show it was the previous episode. It has a terrible weakness for bad puns in episode titles. It can be trite. It can feel weirdly childish, for a show that is frequently about aliens fucking. It's really really very silly on occasion and I have a particularly very low tolerance for second hand embarrassment. Farscape can be frequently embarrassing, but the fact I'm still flailing about it after twenty something years despite that is kind of significant.

Because when it's good, it's so incredibly fucking high quality excellent. It's got all the chemistry, all the high stakes heists and the high melodrama sacrifice, all the dealing with grief and trauma and how do you deal with a legacy of repeated genocide and fascism. Everyone is a space criminal on a stolen sentient prison ship. What the fuck even is the greater good. How do you deal with being a parent. Most of the cast are emoting through inch thick layers of foam latex and the other half are wearing fetish gear (OR THEY'RE PUPPETS. OR CGI ORGANIC SENTIENT SPACESHIPS), but they're really fucking good at said emoting and it's still heartbreaking. It's been twenty years and I will still start crying if I so much as hear the season three version of the theme tune (oh god the theme song evolution).

The silly episodes throughout season one are even weirder because it does pretty much find its feet straightaway with the pilot ep - it's snappy and emotional and charming and clever, and yes the tropes are there but the tropes didn't have quite the same level of tired significance back in 1999? I watched that first ep and was cackling over how fucking fantastic it was. It was such a refreshing change in 1999 that it sailed me through any of the occasionally dodgy stuff that followed.

It's also very very... Aussie, which to me covers a lot of the humour and the sheer demented glee of what the creators wanted to run with? The cast has chemistry, in spades, and the characters flirt and fuck (and... one of them is a hot blue zen plant priestess who orgasms in bright light. Obviously.) and everything is just a little bit.. extra. It has an episode where everyone is a loony tunes cartoon. It has an episode inspired by A Clockwork Orange. It has small stabby robots. It's squelchy and makes fart jokes ALL THE TIME (mostly because one of the main puppets is a former emperor who farts helium and okay yep it's pretty funny. The other puppet is wise and kind and troubled and possibly complicit in war crimes. This fucking show I can't even).

...I'm just going to apologise for this essay, and say probably go read the Cat Valente thing because it includes much more key whether you should in fact watch Farscape information such as:

“They’re all gonna be Australian or Kiwi! Except for one guy! It’s basically gonna be a tour of Sydney’s underground club scene, even for the smallest parts! And I mean that, everyone is going to be wearing leather BDSM gear 24/7, even the heroes. I’M TELLIN’ YA WE GOT MAGDA SZUBANSKI! THIS THING IS GOLD! Literally, the whole color palette is like really gold. With most of a Crayola box taped on top of it. SPACE IS AUSTRALIAN NOW. ALL OF IT. DEAL WITH IT.”

there will be an almost unbelievable amount of goo involved. Like if there is a Goo Department, and anyone is left over after Nickelodeon’s job fair last week, we need all the goo.”

“Because of all the sex and violence that just barely doesn’t cross the decency lines we’re still kind of feeling out right now?”

“That, too. But mostly because we need all the makeup and then after we’re done turning regular humans a TON of nutbar colors, everything else is going to be just…dripping. All the time. Just drenched in slime. Good slime, bad slime, it will constantly be hard to say. But it’s like Coco Chanel always said, before you leave the house, look in the mirror and upend a bucket of colorful sludge over your head.”

[theblurrinessofbeingalive]

[middleearthpixie]

Seven Days ~ Chapter Twenty-Nine

Firefighter Frerin Durin died in a fire set deliberately. But after he helps his brother, Thorin find happiness, Frerin is offered a second chance. He has to prove himself worthy by righting the one major wrong in his life. Otherwise, history will repeat and he will die for good this time. The catch? He has seven days in which to do this and isn’t even certain what his major wrong is.

At least, he doesn’t know for long. 

Syd Prescott has known Frerin since high school. She spent one night with him and then he vanished from her life. Now, he claims he wants to make it up to her, to right was he realizes was his major wrong. But can she trust him? And can he prove to her that she can before it’s too late? 

Pairing: Modern!Frerin x OFC Syd Prescott

Characters: Frerin, Syd, Alex, Thorin, Gram, Christina

Warnings: none

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.5K

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

The mall normally closed at nine, but because of the Christmas rush, they extended their hours to eleven. Syd tried to ignore the flutters in her belly as she and Gram sat in Gram’s Lexus, in the parking lot closest to Macy’s. They both figured that since Harper’s Jewelers was at that end of the mall, this entrance made the most sense for Christina to use.

It was almost eleven and as the minutes ticked away, Syd felt calmer with each one. This was going to work. It had to. She didn't want to think about the alternative if it didn't work.

It will work.

Little by little, the parking lots emptied until only a few cars remained. Syd could only hope one of those cars was Christina’s. It might have been just her imagination, but it felt as if her nazar warmed as several women emerged from the west entrance. Warmed and then, as they went their separate ways, began humming against the hollow in her throat. 

“Is that her?” Gram asked, nodding toward a woman two rows down, heading toward a dark colored Honda Pilot.

Syd nodded. “Yeah. That’s her.” She looked over at Gram, who didn't take her eyes off Christina. “You promise me you won’t back out, right?”

Gram nodded slowly. “I promise you, Syd. I won’t back out.”

“Okay. Are we ready?”

“No.” Gram reached across the Lexus’ interior and caught her by the hand to give Syd’s a squeeze. Gram’s hand was wrinkled and thin, her knuckles slightly swollen from arthritis, but there was absolutely no weakness in her grip. “I trust you, Sydney. You have to trust me as well.”

“Gram, there is no one I trust more.”

“Except your future husband.”

Syd smiled and bobbed her head. “Except for my future husband, which is weird to think about, to be honest.”

“Tell me about it.” Gram gave her another squeeze, then pulled her hand away. “Let’s go.”

Syd took a deep breath and pushed open the door to climb out into the chilly, clear night. Gram had made certain to park out of the halo of light from the poles scattered about the parking lot, and Syd dressed in black to minimize the odds of being seen too early. 

Christina had her back to Syd, and as she reached for the handle on the driver’s side door, Syd cleared her throat. “Where are you going?”

“How did I know it was you over there?”

“I don't know. Lucky guess?”

Christina turned around and Syd almost stepped back reflexively at the sheer ice in Christina’s otherwise flat dark eyes. They reminded Syd of river rocks—cold, shiny, and void of any emotion whatsoever. “You are a fool, you know. What can you possibly do to me?”

“Why won’t you just let him go? You know he’s happy here. Being here is all he wanted, why do you think he fought so hard to stay here?”

Christina shook her head. “Change is scary. It’s uncomfortable. He missed his mongrel dog and his blockhead brother and apparently you.”

“I didn’t think jealousy was something you felt in heaven.”

“Heaven? Is that what he told you it was?” Christina shook her head. “That’s not how it works, honey. You don't get an automatic pass. You have to prove yourself.”

“He is a firefighter. He’s already proven himself.” Syd stepped closer now, her heart slowing down as anode calmness set in. “But you… you’re a different story, aren’t you? You sacrificed kids to save your own skin and for what? He still got you, didn't he? How old were they, Tori? High school? Middle school? Were they little kids who only barely had a chance to be alive before you knocked them into the path of an AR-15 to save yourself?”

“Shut your filthy mouth.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Syd shook her head, mindful of the soft creak of Gram’s car door opening, following by the sound of her feet on damp pavement. She tried to ignore it, tried to focus on Christina. “Little kids. Was it worth it? What I want to know is, how did you get a second chance? What you did was shitty.”

A hint of triumph gleamed in her eyes. “We all get a second chance. I was put with Frerin so he could show me how to be a saint, like the Big Guy saw him.”

“He ran into burning buildings to save lives, Christina. You pushed little kids down and trampled over them to save your own. There is a world of different between you and Frerin.”

“Syd, what are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Gram,” Syd called without turning away from Christina. “Just having a chat with an old friend.”

“Be careful, Syd. You don’t know what she might do.”

“Yes, Sydney,” Christiana whispered. “You don't know.”

“I’m fine.” Syd shook her head. “And I’m done with you. He doesn’t want you, Tori. He’s never wanted you.”

“He will.”

“No. He won’t.”

“Sure he will.” Now a hint of warmth gleamed in those river rock eyes as Christina offered up a triumphant smile. “You’ll see.”

Frerin couldn’t sit still. He paced the length of the kitchen endlessly, even as Alex said, “Please, you’re making me seasick, Frerin. Sit down.”

“I can’t. Al, I feel like I’m going to lose my fucking mind. How could I let her talk me into thinking this was a good idea?”

“Because you trust her?”

“Yeah.I trust her. I don't trust the dead bitch who wants to see me dead as well.”

“Frerin,” Alex rose from her chair and came around to step in front of him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders to halt his pacing, “please… she’s going to be okay. She’s got Gram and her gifts and it’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah? You think so? What if we are all wrong, Al? What then?”

“That won’t happen.”

Thorin thudded into the kitchen, shrugging out of his jacket. “What won’t happen?” 

Frerin looked at Alex. “You tell him. He’s heard enough crazy shit from me the last few weeks as it is.”

“Tell me what?” Thorin looked from him to Alex and back. “Someone tell me what’s going on?”

“Syd is confronting Christina.”

“Christina.” Thorin turned to him. “The crazy woman from the jewelry store? The one who thinks she’s the undead?”

“Not undead,” Frerin sighed, rubbing his face with both hands. “She is dead. An angel, or so I thought, but I don't know now. I always thought angels were good.”

“Well, remember, Satan was a fallen angel, so…” Alex sighed softly. “Syd has a plan to get rid of her and Frerin is freaking out about it.”

“Frerin is freaking out,” Frerin replied, “because Syd’s plan is to sacrifice herself. That’s why Frerin is freaking out.”

“What?” Thorin’s eyes were almost perfectly round. “She’s going to what?”

“She is going to let Christina inhabit her body, just like she took over Christina’s body. And when she does, Syd is going to get as far away from Christina and Gram and let Gram shoot her.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Alex?” Thorin’s voice echoed off the kitchen walls. “And you’re letting this happen?”

“It’s not up to me, Thorin. It’s not up to me or Teddy or Charlie or Gram or Frerin or you. It was Syd’s decision and I trust she knows what she’s doing.”

“And this is also why I’m freaking out.” Frerin threw himself down into Alex’s vacated chair. “It’s insane.”

“So, what happens after Gram—Mahal, I can’t believe I’m saying this—shoots her?”

“She goes to wherever Tori went and Frerin went when they first died and she gets her second chance.”

“Alex,” Thorin’s voice went strangely calm, as if he was talking a jumper down from a bridge, “do you hear what you’re saying? How do you know that’s what will happen?”

“I don’t. Not with one hundred percent certainty, anyway. But, you got a second chance,” she pointed to Frerin, “and I assume Tori did at some point to, so why wouldn’t Syd?”

“Then why didn't your parents get a second chance?” Thorin asked softly.

Alex blanched, and for a moment, looked as if he’d punched her in the stomach. But then, tucking a wayward black curl behind her left ear, she said, “I assume they either chose not to accept it or they weren’t given one because of something they’d done that Gram has never told us about.”

Frerin drummed his fingers against the table and glanced at the clock. Ten-forty-five. “We can still make it to the mall before it closes, T.”

Thorin reached for his jacket and tugged his cell from the pocket. “I’m going to call this in and let CFPD handle it.”

“No,” Alex caught him by the wrist with one hand and plucked the phone free with the other, “neither of you is doing anything. Let Syd handle this. She knows what she’s doing.”

“She does not know what she’s doing,” Frerin countered, rising once more. “She’s never been dead, Alex. She hasn’t got a fucking clue what she’s doing and if she’s wrong, she won’t be back.”

“And neither will Tori and that’s all Syd cares about,” Alex reminded him softly. “You have to trust her.”

“Al,” Frerin’s voice cracked, “if she’s wrong, that’s it. She’s gone.”

“I know. And she knows, too.”

“It’s fucking insane.”

“Yep.”

“And we’re letting her do it.”

‘We don't have a choice, Frerin.”

“Lex, let me call for the rescue squad, then,” Thorin said, reaching to pull his phone from her grasp.

“You can’t.” She shook her head again. “She can’t be revived, Thorin. Any paramedic or EMT  or cop touches her too soon, and Tori will simply slip into that body and go on her merry way. This is the only way it can work. This is how it has to be.”

Frerin’s gut roiled, bile rising in his throat as a brackish taste flooded his mouth. He bolted from his chair, to the half bath off the kitchen, just making it in time as he was sick. He sank to his knees before the toilet, gagging and heaving until there was nothing left to bring up, then sank back against the plum colored wall, head back, eyes closed.

Alex crouched beside him, pressing a towel into his hand. “It sucks. I know it sucks. But, you have to trust Syd knows what she’s doing, Frerin. I’ve known my sister literally all my life and I know what she can do and I trust her more than I trust just about anyone.”

He let his head loll in her direction. Where Syd’s eyes were that perfect blend of sea and sky, Alex’s were pure green. Green and direct. “I don't want to lose her, Al.”

“You won’t. And why do you call me Al?”

He offered up a weak smile. “Because I like it.”

“Yeah, but since when?”

He shook his head. “Ask me when this is all over, okay?”

“It’s from when you were dead, isn’t it?” She looked up at Thorin, who’d come up behind her. “Do you know why he calls me that?”

Thorin shook his head. “No. Aside from the fact that he’s Frerin and does what he wants.” He reached over Alex’s shoulder, a can of ginger ale in his hand. “Here.”

“Thanks, T.” Frerin took the can and popped the top, then brought it to his lips for a small sip, just like his mother would insist he do when he was a little kid and had a stomach flu. Then he sighed and let his eyes close once more. “When will we know if this works?”

“When Syd comes through the front door.”

“Syd, step back.”

Christina’s dark eyes flicked slightly upward, and Syd knew she looked at Gram. “I’m fine, Gram.”

“You should have listened to your grandmother.”

Syd’s jaw clenched involuntarily as Christina grabbed her by the wrist. Icy cold bit into her with fangs as sharp as razors, and spread up through her arm. The cold burned, crackled and snapped as it swept through her, unlike anything she had ever felt before and it took every ounce of will she possessed to not jerk back, to not free herself. Christina’s eyes widened, glowing almost amber, her smile all teeth and gums now and filled with triumph. 

You stupid little fool. You are no match for me.

Syd ignored the cliché villainy frothing from Christina’s lips. Instead, she focused on Frerin. On what she would lose if she failed.

But the cold overtook her. Icy. Burning. Hot. Freezing. Her head spun and her stomach roiled and the feeling of being crowded in her own skin was the most unpleasant sensation ever to course through her. 

He will think I’m you, you dumb bitch. And he will never know the truth.

The hell he won’t. Syd clenched her free hand until her fingernails bit into her palm. 

So, this is what it feels like to be you. And soon, I’ll know what it’s like to be with Frerin. Too bad for you.

The oily voice grew harsher, and the cold began to fade. Every instinct screamed for Syd to jerk back and free herself from the force that was Tori filling her. If she broke contact now, she could fight Tori out of her body and back into Christina’s.

If she broke contact now, all would be lost. 

She had to wait. Ignore the cold. Ignore the heat. Ignore the pain. Ignore the taunts. 

Focus on the end game. 

“Syd?” A hint of panic wove into Gram’s voice but Syd knew her well enough to know it wasn't genuine. Gram trusted her. 

The old lady is panicking. You should have listened to her.

Syd let her eyes close as the vibrations that had rippled thorough her slowed. She saw Christina stagger back, saw her slump up against her car and as she did, Syd gritted her teeth and forced her body to obey her one last time.

She spun around, away from the Honda Pilot, staggering back herself so she wouldn’t touch Gram. 

As she did, Gram calmly lifted the Glock she usually kept in the shop, and in one fluid motion, aimed and fired.

The scream that pried itself from her lips was not Syd’s voice. Syd felt the heat from the bullet, felt it tear into her, felt the warm rush of her own blood and the intense pain of torn flesh and shredded muscle, of hot metal ripping through soft organs.

Get to the old woman! Do as I say and touch her, you bitch.

Tori tried to make Syd’s legs obey, but it was of no use. The blast knocked her back, she staggered and fell, only barely hearing the thud of her head hitting the pavement.

Do it!

Tori forced her onto her stomach and Syd’s vision swam as she fought to focus on Gram, to make sure she stayed well out of reach. Tori tried to take her voice, but as she tried to speak aloud, Syd coughed and blood bubbled to her lips, hot and coppery.

You worthless bitch, you can’t do this.

“I can,” Syd managed as the cold set in once more. Only this cold was different. This was the cold of her life draining away with each beat of her her heart. Tori could try to force her to move, but even as she managed to make Syd’s arms drag her toward Gram, Gram just backed away, maneuvering herself between Syd and Christina. 

Syd’s eyes didn't want to focus. Her thoughts grew sluggish. And as the light in the parking lot faded, she smiled as Tori let out an unearthly howl and in an instant, was gone.

Then everything went black. 

[superparadise-ghost]

everyone put Ur little heads together and manifest I get tickets to twenty one pilots Sydney show this yearrrr 🥺🥺 and DONT ask if my resurgent obsession with their music has anything to do with the revival of Dan and phil 🙄

[sunshine-luca]

before

The pilot was as crotchety and as difficult to work with as everyone warned him to be… But Luca fell in love with him anyway.

He’d arrived Heathrow in the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen into the sky he thought- until he realised it was just the dreary English weather leaving a pall over his jetlagged mood. He trundled out of the airport with his suitcase and straight into a row of gleaming black cars while a guy not much older than himself with blue eyes and a ready smile held his name up on a plaque.

“Seamus, right?” Luca said, squinting into the fog. Fuck, he was tired. He hadn’t managed a wink of sleep on the twenty two plus hour flight over, too anxious, too nervous to be leaving his home and venturing somewhere new. He’d insisted on heading to the UK for his gap year, just like every one of this classmates and well against his father’s advice. Luca couldn’t blame Isaac really. They’d found each other late in life, when Luca was almost fully grown and the surprise of Luca’s parentage had been a shock to them both.

But of all nights Luca had laid awake as a child, wishing his long lost parent would come to rescue him from the depressing hell of the group home, he never expected his biological father would be a military captain, one of the youngest officers to ever to take command of the SSV Berlin.

Nor would Luca have expected his complicated birth story, or the part Isaac’s lover Mason, a secret super-solider of a paramilitary organisation no one had ever heard of to be a part of it. Mason had tracked Luca down and fallen in love with Isaac in the process of reuniting them.

Part of Luca felt bad for leaving the base in Sydney and going half way around the world. He felt bad, but not… wrong. Something was calling him. Something that had made him yearn to see the wilds of Scotland for as long as he could remember. He wondered if it was something to do with his mother, except he didn’t quite have a mother. No one knew who she was, or where she came from, her records expunged from the lab’s logs years before Luca ever ended up in the home. But Luca wondered. He wondered if the pull he felt for a country he had never been to was because of her.

“Rourke, actually,” the man laughed. He didn’t have the thick Scottish brogue Luca had expected. This man sounded almost… American. “I’ll still answer to Seamus but most people call me Rourke.”

Luca tried not to think too hard about that. His brain wasn’t functioning with so little sleep anyway. “Uh. Okay.”

Rourke tilted his head, studying Luca. “You look dead on your feet. Come on, get in the car and I’ll take you back to the estate.” He glanced at the two men Luca hadn’t initially noticed, one big and dark gold, the other pale like the sun. Both in black, both mildly terrifying. They moved away, one sliding into the car, the other keeping watch while Rourke herded Luca into the plush leather seats of the back of the black Audi.

Rourke slid in beside him and the doors slammed. They were soon peeling away from the curb, past the crush of people coming and going from the terminal. Luca tried to answer the few questions Rourke had for him, friendly things, getting to know you things, but he was too tired to stay awake.

He fell asleep before they even hit the highway.

--

The estate was unlike anything Luca had ever seen. It was sprawling and ancient, and more like a compound than what he would have expected from some prissy little country manor. The title of castle that Rourke casually threw around as a moniker was more accurate than Luca realised. The main house was beautiful and old but meticulously maintained. The money it must take to upkeep this estate must be phenomenal but when Rourke started to talk about the private airfield and the collection of planes the O’Riain family held, Luca soon learned that money wasn’t an issue.

When Luca had rebelled against Isaac’s reluctance to allow him to join the estate, Mason had pulled him aside quietly.

“You don’t know what you’ll become a part of, Luc,” Mason said. His green eyes were troubled. “What they do… what they control… It’s not for the faint of heart.”

Luca had scoffed. “Mase, what do you think is going to happen? I just want to work on the planes and see a bit of Scotland while I’m there. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I mean, these guys have their own private collection – and I’ll get a chance to work on all of them. How many people will get to say that? Let alone my age!”

Mason hadn’t said much more. It would have fallen on deaf ears anyway. Luca was determined to go and he was determined to put his degree to good use and get his hands on the private collection of vintage planes and private jets that the eldest O’Riain held dear.

Luca had wondered about him with a bit of apprehension when Isaac had mentioned him in passing. By all accounts, Lt. Blake Ryan was a hardnosed man who didn’t suffer any bullshit. He served with Isaac back in the day and the two had remained friends. Luca had tried to press for details but Isaac had been tight lipped. He was apprehensive about meeting the pilot but reasoned he probably wouldn’t really have all that much to do with him. He’d be in the air, Luca would be on the ground. Maybe one day, Luca might bother to get his flight hours up, but the urgency wasn’t there. He was only twenty one, there was plenty of time for that.

Rourke showed him to his room – more of a suite really – all brocade and gilded gold surfaces, a four poster bed and a view over the estate gardens and the distant rugged highlands in the distance. Luca barely noticed the finer details, kicking off his shoes and falling down face first onto the sheets.

Rourke chuckled from behind him. “Alright, I’ll leave you to get settled then.”

The door closed with a soft snick and then Luca was alone.

--

It took Luca four days to truly overcome his jetlag and make the mental switch from southern hemisphere to northern hemisphere. Everything was back to front – he’d left in the autumn, just as the cool was starting to creep but here there was new life blooming everywhere. Even the weather – foggy and cold and grey in London, was a distant memory in the Scottish countryside.

He started to learn his way around the castle. From the inside, it really did feel like a castle with long dark hallways and flickering lights in the wall sconces. They didn’t flicker because of a naked flame, but more because the wiring in this particular wing was dated back before the war and was sorely in need of an upgrade. Luca didn’t mind it though. Sometimes walking back from the dining room at the front of the sprawling building, he would pad along the marble floors and imagine himself in flowing robes with a circlet of office perched on top of his unruly curls. A silly little fantasy he would had quickly grown out of except that it followed him into his dreams.

And his dreams. He told himself it was the jetlag, but his heart whispered something else.

He dreamed of the Scottish countryside, the windy mores and tight forests. He dreamed of fire pits and the clash of swords, of hands on his skin and long hair the colour of flames. One night he had even dreamed of soft linen, draped over a swollen belly – his swollen belly and woke up in a cold sweat with his heart racing so hard he thought he might vomit.

The pull he thought would ease when he finally touched down in this land didn’t fade. It only grew stronger.

By day five, he felt he had a handle on the time zones and the estate. Rourke was a good guy, and Luca felt an odd kind of kinship with him being another ‘outsider’. Rourke had more of a claim than Luca realised though. He was O’Riain blood too, but like Luca, had grown up away from the centre of the vortex that made him. Rourke introduced him to the staff, showed him around the estate and when Luca finally declared himself ready and able to get to work, Rourke’s private smile had been hard to read.

“I have to warn you, Ryan is… a hard man to get to know.”

Luca shrugged as he climbed into the car beside Rourke. He was dressed to get down to business, overalls and boots, his jewellery left back in his room. The only nod he kept to his individual style was his black painted fingernails. They’d probably get all greased up anyway.

“Everyone keeps telling me. I can’t wait to meet this big, bad scary pilot,” Luca teased. He wasn’t lying, he did want to meet Blake O’Riain, but mostly so he could put a face to the name everyone whispered. Would he look like his sister, the formidable and stunningly beautiful Skye? Luca had been struck speechless when he’d met her briefly in the hallways one morning. Her stilettos were sharp enough to kill someone and they only served to make her already impressive height even more pronounced.

She was incredible.

Or would the pilot be as crotchety as they claimed, middle aged and grumpy, dismissive of the family name and the work his sister did to keep the funds flowing so that he could indulge in his private passion for planes?

Luca was so curious to find out.

The Range Rover bumped along the rocky ground to the airfield. In the distance, the state of the art hangar came into view. Low and squat and gleaming silver, it looked surprising not out of place in the rugged Scottish countryside.

“Wow,” Luca said, eyes wide. “That’s the hangar?”

Rourke’s grin was smug. “It’s one of three. This is the main operational hangar though. The one with the working planes.”

The ones you’ll be expected to maintain, Rourke didn’t say.

There was already a car in place, parked on the far side of the hangar near the secured doors. Rourke pulled the Range Rover up in a crunch of gravel and got out. Luca followed, watched keenly as he did something complicated on the keypad then handed Luca a card of his own.

Rourke’s blue eyes had momentarily lost their warmth. “We don’t fuck around with security.”

Luca thought of the hulking shadows, never too far out of reach, always lurking in the corners of the estate and a shiver ran down his spine. He took the card carefully and slipped the lanyard over his neck before tucking it on the inside of his shirt. “Understood.”

Rourke seemed pleased with that and pushed the door open. It immediately opened into a cavernous space, shiny concrete floors that stretched as far as the eye could see. The entire space was air conditioned and well lit, because fuck, of course it would be. These O’Riain’s wanted for nothing and Luca felt a burst of excitement to know this is where he was going to be working.

At the far end of the space, a walled space jutted out and glass windows showed a figure moving around on the inside. The offices. On the other side of that, more rooms hug the distant walls- more offices, a kitchen and a lounge. Above the offices hugging the domed ceiling was another set of rooms.

Rourke caught the way Luca’s eyes followed the white spiral staircase to the upper level. “That’s Ryan’s space. He doesn’t often come back to the main house.”

“He lives here?”

Rourke shrugged. “When he’s not in the air.”

Luca’s heart fell slightly. If Ryan was as grumpy and as difficult to work with as they all seemed to hint, it might not be much fun having him in such close proximity when he wasn’t flying.

Rourke struck out across the hangar, passing by the belly of the nearest jet. Luca had expected only one to be in the hangar but as they passed, he saw another two beautiful birds standing silent nearby. Holy shit. These were state of the art and costly and only a handful of them existed in the world.

His excitement grew and his brain skipped ahead to the moment when he would be able to call his father and gloat that the planes he was going to be able to work on would look pretty fucking ace on his resume.

They were halfway across the hangar when the office door crashed open and the figure inside strode out. His face was contorted in barely restrained annoyance and even from this distance, Luca could see the same O’Riain shade of blue of his eyes. He wasn’t as old as Luca had expected, mid-thirties with lines around his eyes and mouth that showed a life well lived. His hair didn’t match the reddish tint of his close beard and for a second, Luca’s gaze was stuck on the streak of silver that was just beginning to form at his forehead when it caught the light.

But it was his strong, tattooed hands when he started gesturing that made something hot and tight coil in the centre of his belly.

“Well, it’s about fookin’ time,” Ryan was muttering as he approached. Luca hung back, hiding a little shamefully at Rourke’s back. He wasn’t a tall guy, he was fine boned and small and Rourke was none of those things. It was easy to hide. “I was expectin’ ye hours ago.”

Rourke was unperturbed by Ryan’s apparent temper. “Why? Have you got somewhere you need to be?”

“Aye, as a matter of fact, I do. I need these birds fuelled up and ready to go, and the last fookin’ numpty you left me bolted two days ago without a single fookin’ word.”

“Did you try asking him nicely where he was going?”

Luca tried to hide his snicker at Rourke’s mildly asked question. The smirk on the younger man’s face was unmistakable, and probably really brave from what Luca understood. Ryan stopped in his tracks and levelled a glare at Rourke that was cold enough to rival the arctic.  

“Just because ye’ve got my sister’s ear right now doesn’t mean I cannae make life a living hell for ye too, boyo.” Ryan’s gaze shifted as Luca stepped out from behind Rourke’s shadow. For half a second, he looked like he’d been struck with something – his mouth twisted silently, his eyes widened – barely a flash before he was back to scowling. “And who the fuck is this?”

--

Ryan wasn’t as scary as they let on, providing Luca knew the work.

Which he did.

Rourke had left him in Ryan’s hands and Luca moved fast to familiarize himself with the birds in question, the tools and equipment on display. Normally a pre-flight check like this would take a few hours but Ryan had already made a start on it. Luca liked that. Ryan wasn’t just a pilot, he knew his way around the guts and hearts of the planes too.

There was a lot Luca was surprised to like about Ryan.

At first, Luca kept his distance where he could. He had to. The weird, instant spark of attraction that had flared to life burned steadily in his gut. Ryan looked good. He smelled good. The warmth radiating off him when Luca moved too close felt like the sun and Luca wanted to be Icarus. He found himself listening to every word Ryan said, committing all of it to memory. The timbre of his voice made Luca itch under his skin, the movement of his hands made Luca wonder what it would be like to have those hands on him- And the ink… it was everywhere. Luca shouldn’t have been surprised, knowing Skye’s penchant for art on her body, but Ryan’s made him stare, made him wonder what else he had painted on his skin. Made him wonder if every time Ryan handed him a tool or brushed past him as he climbed into the plane or held his gaze a little longer than necessary – if maybe the same burn was low in Ryan’s gut too.

It was bad, though, wasn’t it? To want a man like Ryan. There were so many reasons why it was a bad idea – but when he went back to the castle and lay in his suite under the canopy of the four poster bed and jerked off to thoughts of the pilot, Luca couldn’t remember what any of them were.

[tunaababee]

gonna get really sappy and DEEPLY tmi/personal about twenty one pilots on main so im gonna put it under a cut. i am cringe but i am free and clancy tour coming up is giving me Feelings

i've been a top fan since 2016. i initially had some resistance to them bc it was when Stressed Out was at its peak and like, yall know how oversaturation goes. even if its good, its fucking annoying by proxy. all the 12/13 year olds at my high school were into it. i was turning 17. and it was a really fucking rough year.

i've been deep into homestuck since i was about 14/15, but by age 16 i had branched out into text-based rp and met a guy from italy who i kind of had a situationship with i guess?? at the time?? idk if that's what the kids call it. (whenever i describe how many relationships ive had, i count this one as a 0.5) anyways. it eventually got to a point where he was emotionally abusing me for a period of about four months. it was brief, but intense, especially since im a fucking lovesick lonely teen at this point who doesnt know any better. he lovebombs me, talks to me and acts like i am his girlfriend, gets jealous and shitty if i talk about other people, but then the moment he goes and does the same shit i get told i'm the reason he was depressed, im the reason for his problems, etc. until he calmed down and placated me and won me over again. over and over, regularly, for four months. it was a lot for my little developing brain to handle.

i know people have had it longer, have had it worse, but it really left a lasting impact. i was left with a litany of abandonment issues, and self-esteem and image that was already bad was buried dead in the fucking ground. i wanted to die every single fucking day for those four months. he even told me, as i began to question my sexuality properly, that i couldnt be bi 'because i liked him'.

but he LOVED twenty one pilots. would quote their shit regularly. wore the merch. all that stuff.

by 2016 i'd managed to see clearly enough and have enough support from friends that i felt comfortable cutting him and his circle off permanently. and it was fucking hard. i didn't have a lot of irl friends at the time and it felt like my only support network. after i finally left, i was desperate to feel some semblance of control, take something back, my own personal little 'fuck you' i could carry in my heart.

with all the hype around them, i gave top a try. slowly eased my way in. i knew i was hooked when i heard Holding On To You for the first time. it made me feel like i could take back that control and find a light at the end of the tunnel.

i consumed everything they had put out after that. i saw them live at emotional roadshow sydney 2017, i was turning 18. i made so many new friends. i felt such hope in my heart. i sobbed so fucking hard when they played HOTY. they weren't the only reason i made it through, itd be naive to contribute everything to them when i've done a lot of work and so have the people around me, but they were like a lifeline to hold on to when things were hard.

i went and saw them again in 2018 for the bandito tour. i made my own outfit and was surrounded by people who had done the same. i made more friends, had more adventures. i was dropping out of high school the year that Trench released due to having the worst mental health i'd had probably since my abuse and felt so lost but it helped me feel a little more stable and grounded. like that light was still there.

a lot has happened since. i'll be 25 when i go see them in November, once again at Qudos Bank Arena in sydney. i'm in a happy relationship with someone i love who respects me. i'm doing things that make me happy. i'm happy. i've felt and experienced and lived and loved and lost and done so so so much since i was a scared 16 year old hearing them for the first time. i've gotten piercings and tattoos, something i never thought i'd do, and put their work permanently on my body. i'm so proud every time i see my tattoo on my arm. i genuinely love and accept myself exactly as i am, which is something i NEVER thought i'd do.

having Clancy come out nine years to the day from blurryface, an album that has been so deeply important to me in a lot of ways, gets me real misty. this entire tour gets me so misty. i didn't think i'd live past 18 at BEST. but i'm here and i'm fucking happy.

genuinely cannot emphasise how much this album and this tour means to me. i plan on getting a Clancy tattoo once the album comes out and i've had some time to sit with it. it feels very full circle, i guess. hearing Next Semester has just had me thinking about this constantly and all weepy all the time haha. but a good weepy.

i cannot fucking wait to scream in a stadium full of people again in a way that heals my heart.

[kaijuposting]

Trying to assemble a reasonable timeline for the main story of Pacific Rim and discovering: -The war clock and the times overlaid in green don't line up. -The war clock displays two days, twenty three hours, and two minutes when Mako Mori tells Pentecost that she should be piloting Lady Danger. During the drift test, it displays at two days, thirteen hours, and one minute. (Both times, the war clock is ostensibly measuring the time since Mutavore attacked Sydney.) -Going by the overlay clock, the drift test started at eight in the morning, therefore meaning that several hours passed before we see Mako and Raleigh standing outside of Pentecost's office listening to the Hansens argue. -Going by the war clock, the drift test probably took place later in the day, which makes mores sense. -It's always full-on night when Newt's in the bone slums, even when it's sunset or dawn at the shatterdome. -It's a mess, but there's nothing to justify the nine day timeline Alex Irvine gave in the novelization. -There's no getting around Newt Geiszler hanging out in Hannibal Chau's shop for several hours before discussing kaiju brains with him upstairs. That was a thing that happened. One can only imagine what Newt and Hannibal were doing for several hours.

[smashedapplesfactory]

Blessed greetings to spiritual brethren and Mx 💜 a recent reflection on my life cycles, the last ten at least I have experienced loss of my soul parent, mother, and her father, my grandfather. Grief has been a weird and unkind journey I wish could have happened later on, and with less of an impact. But in.all of this process I felt discnnwcyed, on auto pilot, spirituality had left the building which made my heart organ hurt, it felt like the magic had left the emotional heart.

As I came to want to move on from the heavy grief, effects and isolated was, I literally stepped my foot out in to society, found myself with a new partner in life, living in a beautiful coastal town in Australia, very natural, very grounding, picturesque, the magic was all there.

Times moves my story forward, to my partner disconnecting and flying opposite to what we had planned, he began showing traits of alcoholism, narssasism, believe me when I say I literally fell for him, there were so many great things (still very much are) to this original type of human and soul. But no matter how much I tried to contribute, whether it was at the house front, literally - professional expectations of tidiness - which they were 110% not tidy. I felt I delivered in a number of aspects to our shared time, and by the 'ship's end, I had received a plate thrown at my leg, a vinyl thrown at my head, and been punched/attacked from behind unknowing, unexoecting. From me, unprovoked.

That ship was done, I was gone. And again, as leaving one thing entered into life of isolation due to the 2019 CoVid pandy. Leaving a domestic abusive ship, during covid was very emotionally hard and energy taxing. I got through it.

I ended up in Sydney, Australia for three months, before heading back to Melbourne, the ideally spend Christmas with my family, I ended up in Melbourne for a good year. Of .. nothing.

I lived off one of the cities main streets, Elizabeth Street, near the Colin's street intersection. I guess during that time it was about looking inward and trying to REALLY appreciate things that had constantly been overlooked prior to the pandy, due to being busy, distracted, unaware. Though to bring it up again, I was doing isolation way before covid, grief isolation.

By the time I was at the peak of covid in 2021, I was officially having iso cabin fever. Sure, I made sure to get outside as much as possible, go for rides, have time out of my bedsit sized apartment.

With protests, then, taking place right on my street, outside of my front door, I began seeing things I wasn't expecting to see in my life, walls of police officers blocking access to protestors, protestors roudy and angry (about a series of covid economy related topics). I once got fined for not wearing a face mask, OUTside.

I had this crazy sense that the government I had hoped was citizen focused was taking me and the people I loved for a ride.

Prior to my mother's diagnosis, I was so enthralled in Community, the practice of, the physical places, activities, personalities, creatives. A celebration.

I spent a decent eight years starting in my twenties going to.placea of community, being a part of or creating space to facilitate.

Let's fast forward back to lines being drawn, vaccinations being had, objected and challengd and the post feedback that brought. Throughout my time on Elizabeth Street, over the course of the one year, as I rode from my apartment block to the Bayside, as I was leaving the city space, I'd say I saw the coroner's car, about 20 times. (I saw twenty bodies), dead, in laneways, from people jumping out of their apartments due to the mental health breakdown and zero support available due to "the times".

A result from what I saw, gave me drive to step up for mental health, to lend an ear to any person who needed social contact, via call, DM's or catch up but with "distance" - covid. Right?

Why am I writing all of this ?

Because all of this has been my journey, and from each tragedy, life has sprouted lessons, pain, trauma, self healing, a constant mind turning education of reality and perception.

I'm at a stage now where the world seems OK to dip my feet out from the shadows and try to bring together some lessons for self and others who are inspired.

I feel I am confident with the lesson of Routine. Finding what drives, finding what doesn't work, putting together a constant routine on how to live day to day.

I seem to have entered the universe of confidence, something which I lacked during my teens, kind of picked up in my twenties and was kicked out of my right as I entered my 30's.

I'm 38 this year, so really hoping to get mastered under confidence and other points for my foutries.

Life has been a mind bending experience and I hope as each day arrives I can contribute shared from my journey, spiritual and in real life.

Thank you for seeing a universe from my mind's eye, join in and see where this goes. I sure hope great things to follow....

TJx

[chorusfm]

Twenty One Pilots – “Next Summer” Video

Twenty One Pilots have shared a video for “Next Summer” and announced some new tour dates. August 15, 2024 Denver, CO Ball Arena August 18, 2024 Salt Lake City, UT Delta Center August 21, 2024 Portland, OR Moda Center August 22, 2024 Seattle, WA Climate Pledge Arena August 24, 2024 Oakland, CA Oakland Arena August 25, 2024 Sacramento, CA Golden 1 Center August 27, 2024 Los Angeles, CA Intuit Dome August 28, 2024 Los Angeles, CA Intuit Dome August 30, 2024 Phoenix, AZ Footprint Center August 31, 2024 Las Vegas, NV MGM Grand Garden Arena September 3, 2024 Austin, TX Moody Center September 4, 2024 Houston, TX Toyota Center September 6, 2024 Dallas, TX American Airlines Center September 10, 2024 Duluth, GA Gas South Arena September 11, 2024 Orlando, FL Kia Center September 13, 2024 Raleigh, NC PNC Arena September 14, 2024 Philadelphia, PA Wells Fargo Center September 15, 2024 Baltimore, MD CFG Bank Arena September 17, 2024 Newark, NJ Prudential Center September 18, 2024 Brooklyn, NY Barclays Center September 20, 2024 Boston, MA TD Garden September 25, 2024 Montreal, QC Bell Centre September 27, 2024 Toronto, ON Scotiabank Arena September 28, 2024 Cleveland, OH Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse September 29, 2024 Detroit, MI Little Caesars Arena October 1, 2024 Chicago, IL United Center October 2, 2024 Chicago, IL United Center October 4, 2024 Columbus, OH Nationwide Arena October 5, 2024 Columbus, OH Nationwide Arena October 8, 2024 Indianapolis, IN Gainbridge Fieldhouse October 9, 2024 Nashville, TN Bridgestone Arena October 10, 2024 St. Louis, MO Enterprise Center October 12, 2024 Minneapolis, MN Target Center November 17, 2024 Auckland, NZ Spark Arena November 19, 2024 Melbourne, AU Rod Laver Arena November 21, 2024 Brisbane, AU Brisbane Entertainment Centre November 24, 2024 Sydney, AU Qudos Bank Arena April 7, 2025 Hamburg, DE Barclays Arena April 8, 2025 Berlin, DE Uber Arena April 9, 2025 Lodz, PL Atlas Arena April 12, 2025 Prague, CZ O2 Arena April 13, 2025 Vienna, AT Wiener Stadthalle April 16, 2025 Zurich, CH Hallenstadion April 17, 2025 Bologna, IT Unipol Arena April 21, 2025 Madrid, ES WiZink Center April 22, 2025 Barcelona, ES Palau San Jordi April 24, 2025 Lyon, FR LDLC Arena April 27, 2025 Munich, DE Olympiahalle April 28, 2025 Milan, IT Forum April 30, 2025 Amsterdam, NL Ziggo Dome May 1, 2025 Cologne, DE Lanxess Arena May 2, 2025 Paris, FR Accor Arena May 5, 2025 Glasgow, UK OVO Hydro Arena May 6, 2025 Birmingham, UK Resorts World Arena May 8, 2025 Belfast, UK SSE Arena Belfast May 9, 2025 Dublin, IE 3Arena May 11, 2025 Manchester, UK AO Arena May 13, 2025 London, UK The O2 May 14, 2025 London, UK The O2 --- Please consider becoming a member so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/news/twenty-one-pilots-next-summer-video/