#° 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢 ; ✞ college.

[metalsiren-a]

"i just need a bandaid and a nap, i'll be fine"

PROMPTS FOR PATCHING UP WOUNDS // @redhead-reporter + accepting!

                               ——  ✞ ;  𝗧𝗛𝗘  𝗪𝗔𝗬  𝗦𝗔𝗪𝗬𝗘𝗥  𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗦  𝗧𝗢  𝗠𝗝  𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗠𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗦  𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧  of  someone  who's  known  her  for  a  thousand  lifetimes.  perceptive  when  she  wants  to  be  sawyer  doesn't  need  that  particular  skill  to  know  that  her  best  friend  is  full of  shit.  anyone  who  can  see  the  gash  on  her  calve  would  know  that  she  was  not  fine.  both  of  them  were  fairly  intoxicated,  the  wound  the  redhead  sustained  caused  by  the  loss  of  a  tequila  bottle  hitting  the  ground  and  shattering  into  a  thousand  pieces  before  both  herself  and  mj  managed  to  lose  their  footing  and  find  themselves  on  the  kitchen  floor.  with  sawyer  unscathed, it's  upon  immedate  inspection  that  mj  isn't  so  lucky.  the  amount  of  blood  only  solidifies  that.

                               ❛  uh — first  off,  that's  gunna  need  more  than  a  bandaid.  second,  you're  gunna  be  gettin'  the  big  sleep  if  we  don't  do  something  about  it.  ❜  grabbing  a  towel  from  a  nearby  drawer,  sawyer  wraps  it  around  mj's  leg,  trying  to  slow  the  bleeding  at  least  some  before  she  reaches  a  hand  down,  grabbing  mj's  before  moving  to  pull  her  up  into  a  standing  position,  ❛  try  not  to  put  any  weight  on  it.  ❜  it's  weird  being  the  one  who  needs  to  act  fast,  the  one  who  needs  to  find  solution.  usually  it's  sawyer  who  finds  herself  in  these  types  of  situations,  where  she's  maimed  herself  one  way  or  the  other  that  requires  help  from  those  around  her,  particularily  mj.  pulling  out  her  phone,  she  requests  an  uber,  ❛  i'm  takin'  you  to  the  e.r.  ❜ 

[alldaddy]

🐤

queue vili seething in the corner lmfao // @redhead-reporter

[metalsiren-a]

                            —— 𝗢𝗛,  𝗧𝗛𝗘  𝗠𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦  𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧  𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗗  𝗜𝗡  𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗘  𝗦𝗔𝗪𝗬𝗘𝗥'𝗦  𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦  𝗧𝗢  𝗣𝗨𝗟𝗟  𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢  𝗔  𝗕𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧  𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘.  college  parties  that  had  left  them  with  little  memories  to  have,  sure,  but  memories  that  are  fond  nonetheless.  sawyer  leans  forward  towards  mj  with  that  same  smile,  though  it  holds  more  mischief  behind  it  than  previously.  a  warning  that  the  redhead  is  more  than  familiar  with  by  this  point,  to  be  sure. 

                            ❛ good  thing  you  put  me  in  charge  of  your  bachelorette, ❜  brows  lift  in  knowing  before  dropping,  bringing  the  glass  of  white  whine  to  her  lips  as  they  remain  seated  opposite  one  another  in  sawyer's  dining  room,  ❛ 'cause  that's  exactly  the  plan. ❜  one  finger  releases  it's  hold  on  the  glass,  pointing  towards  the  bride-to-be  before  placing  it  down  on  the  table.

"Bring back the FIRE, can we just still stay those kids in Ibiza? Late nights and TOO MUCH tequila."

º ✧ 。 @bnchee liked for a SINGLE LINE LYRICAL STARTER !

[hellmartyr]

𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 — no matter how temporarily — when your name was eddie munson. there were reasonable reasons aplenty. employment in youth-bound boroughs without too much scruple was easy to come by. dives for every niche, even long haired freaks, occupied the run-offs on pedestrian thoroughfares. easily bypassed if not for the thump of music blasting from their gloomy thresholds and the litter of fliers occupying the propped open door. a town that hosted that sort of mutation in the blood nurtured bosses that didn’t squint too hard at fashion sense or tattoos. chances were they’d seen weirder.

      eddie was able to secure himself a gig as an almost full-time mechanic at a shop right on the toe of downtown. not bad money, but eddie never pictured anywhere could get slower than thacher tire back home. so for extra pocket lining, collected repair jobs like easter eggs. nothing formal, only cash, and his rates were easier on the books than his counterparts with logos on their pick-ups. even the metalhead’s dippy van failed to raise a brow.

      so his scrutinous run-ins didn’t come from the older wallets that dolled out his paychecks, they were used to his sort. it was the seasonal denizens who scattered back to their motherlands at the turn of the semester only to return until they inevitably moved on with degree in hand. another ambitious soul immediately filling in the vacancy.

      this one in particular was resurrecting needles of pain buried in nebulous scar tissue. both physical and ethereal.

      all his academic life, cheerleaders avoided eddie like a man-shaped plague. a munson and a girl with the kicking power to end an entire bloodline didn’t belong in the same social orbit, let alone solar system. but ever since chrissy cunningham sat on that bench, the pom-poms rustled after his every step. because the universe was enamored with its weird little contrarian twist on humor.

      eddie wasn’t the least bit stunned when her shadow loomed over his ratty sketchbook. despite the late night chill, the young man stubbornly planted himself on a park bench, opting for the vivacity of the free streetlight rather than wring his battery dry with the lights in his van as the time passed in greyscale. he didn’t stick to one position either. at one point munson slid off the lacquered wood, flattened his portfolio on the pavement, and hovered over it like a gargoyle, engrossed by the scratch of lead against grain. a few passer-bys rubbernecked his presence, but only she actually came to a stop.

you have to talk to someone, eventually. it doesn’t have to be me, but. you need to. — @cheersworn / confrontations

      rounded nose of the faber-castell eddie picked up off the street rhythmically populated a negative stretch of the sketch with clusters of dots. smiling into his words, head nodding to the beat of the lead, ❝ i’m working on it, ❞ a laugh followed along with an apologetic display of outstretched arms, ❝ but a good shrink’s above my paygrade. ❞

[metalsiren-a]

UNPROMPTED MEME . // ALWAYS ACCEPTING .

                          —— 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞  𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬  𝐚𝐫𝐞  𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫  𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧,  anyone  who  is  anyone  knows  that  when  sawyer  and  mj  show  up  that  it  will  be  a  night  to  remember.  whether  those  memories  are  chrystal  clear  or  a  little  bit  hazy  depends  on  the  night,  though  for  sawyer  it  often  ends  up  in  the  latter.  alcohol  flows  freely,  sawyer  on  the  opposing  team  of  her  best  friend  and  her  new  boyfriend  for  a  not-so-friendly  game  of  beer  pong.  sure,  herself  and  vili  together  are  a  formidable  duo;  however,  up  against  the  sorest  losers  and  least  graceful  winners,  they  look  like  childsplay.  rules  change.  technicalities  enforced.  the  brunette  shouldn't  be  surprised  that  they  end  up  losing,  with  mj  and  odin  hollaring  and  topping  off  their  win  with  a  small  victory  dance.  all  the  while,  an  already  fairly  drunk  and  carefree  sawyer  can  feel  the  way  vili  is  absolutely  seething  at  her  side,  calling  out  cheat  plays  and  his  own  technicalities  that  matter  none  percent  now  that  the  winners  have  been  chosen. 

                      leaving  the  three  of  them  to  hash  it  out,  sawyer  slowly  backs  away,  trying  to  disappear  into  the  crowd  and  find  the  kitchen  to  make  herself  another  drink.  the  lack  of  competitive  streak  in  her  is  rare,  as  it's  usually  mj  and  sawyer  being  the  ones  rubbing  salt  in  the  wounds  their  opponents  are  still  licking.  however,  seeing  her  best  friend  find  that  joy  and  energy  matched  by  someone  she  can  be  happy  with  douses  any  sort  of  need  for  arguement  over  trivial  points.  

                      with  a  fresh  vodka  soda  in  hand,  sawyer  finds  herself  in  the  backyard;  a  space  where  it's  a  little  more  quiet.  as  extroverted  as  she  is,  there  are  moments  where  she  desires  repieve,  a  small  instance  of  recharging  before  she  goes  back  into  the  frey.  though,  another  reason  she  enjoys  finding  solitude  is  because  it  often  leads  to  deep  (  albiet  very  intoxicated  )  introspective  conversations  that  are  forgotten  (  purposefully  or  otherwise  )  come  morning.  it's  an  opportunity  to  meet  new  people  and  escalate  friendships  in  a  way  that  doesn't  often  happen  outside  of  sobriety.  however,  instead  of  a  new  friend,  a  familiar  redhead  takes  a  seat  at  her  friend's  side  by  the  one  small  firepit  in  the  center  of  the  yard  and  sawyer  finds  nothing  but  contentment  in  mj's  presence. 

                      though  no  words  are  spoken,  it's  almost  like  an  entire  conversation  is  had  between  the  two  of  them  simply  through  looks.  sawyer's  lips  pull into  a  grin  as  mj's  does  the  same.  the  nature  of  each  are  vastly  different,  with  sawyer's  expression  a  cheeky  statement  about  mj's  feelings  for  her  new  beau  and  mj's  a  response  to  said  statement  with  a  failed  attempt  at  dismissal  and  denial.  only  a  moment  passes  when  mj  looks  to  her  friend  with  a  somewhat  softened  expression.

@redhead-reporter :  ❛  don't  let  me  destroy  him . . . ❜ 

                     brows  lift  in  surprise,  the  brunette's  smile  widening  before  a  long,  drawn-out  'woooooow'  leaves  her,  ❛  you  really  like  him,  huh? ❜  her  teasing  is  met  with  a  rather  abrasive  nudge  from  the  redhead's  shoulder  against  her  own,  causing  sawyer  to  almost  lose  her  balance  even  as  a  laugh  leaves  her.  catching  herself  at  the  last  moment,  she  straightens,  expression  softening  some  before  she  leans  against  mj  completely,  foreheads  touching  as  her  nose  scrunches  playfully,   ❛  i  think,  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  everything . . .  you  need  to  make  sure  he  doesn't  destroy  you. ❜