#Ginger Nicole

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #222

Brain Curds are lightly edited daily writing - usually flash fiction and sometimes terrible on purpose.

Cole Nicole would love it if you checked out his portfolio.

Cole sat with his legs crossed over each other and his arms perched on the desk. Rikki Numbers’ business card stared back at him in all its glittery decadence. He wasn’t sure how to feel about his recent change in fortune: he had money, sure, but he also had possibly thousands of thirsty fans who couldn’t resist harassing him in the street. This was all Rikki’s doing. If Cole had known that photo shoot was for an album cover, he would have thought twice.

No, who was he kidding, he absolutely still would have done it.

He popped out of his bedroom to see Ginger lounging on the couch with headphones on. She paused her music and pulled them down to her neck.

“Cole, you’ve gotta listen to this album! It’s amazing! And Rikki has such a lovely voice.” She sighed and batted her eyes. “Do you think you could get me an in to talk to him?”

“Are you serious?!?” He realized he was getting a little aggro and toned it down. “I mean, he’s probably got a boyfriend or something already.”

“‘Or something’, huh? So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

Cole shifted his eyes and saw Gretchen in the kitchen. “Gretchen! It’s so good to see you!”

She dumped a dustpan of sand into the trash. “I’m sure it is.”

“How’s the family?”

“Still dead.”

Cole grimaced.

“Thanks for asking.”

“Uh… is business good?”

“No, business is lousy. Can’t find a reliable customer in this town to save my life.”

“Hey, wait a second,” Ginger said. “You like that boy, don’t you?”

Cole spun around and stuck his head in the refrigerator so he didn’t have to look at either of the women in the room. “Sorry, can’t hear you over the ice maker!”

“We don’t have an ice maker!”

“It must be these noisy eggs, then.”

“You have to come out of there eventually.”

“That’s what you said about the closet.” Cole sighed and removed himself from the refrigerator, though he picked up a goatee of barbecue sauce on his chin from the shelf. “I do not like Rikki, or like like or even regular like him. He’s a poser. An industry plant!” Cole touched his chin and looked at his sticky fingers. “Gretchen, do you think you could clean the fridge today?”

Ginger clicked her tongue. “Someone’s in looooove.”

“No I’m not!”

“Then can I have him?”

“No.”

Cole took a Capri-Sun from the middle shelf, shut the door, and strutted back to his room with indignance on his face. He dialed the number and made the call.

Please comment, reblog, like, and follow if you enjoyed - I'd love to know what you think! See you again tomorrow.

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura Manga Vol 11 Art

(Notice Marsha, Ginger and Frey on the Boys' Academy Pic 🤭)

[cokedupblonde]

me & who

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #215

Brain Curds are lightly edited daily writing - usually flash fiction and sometimes terrible on purpose.

Cole Nicole would love it if you checked out his portfolio.

It was dark by the time Cole stepped through the front door and plopped down on the couch. He hadn’t worked this hard in a long time. But after two photo shoots, he felt like he’d earned a nap.

Ginger clearly disagreed. She turned on the lamp next to her armchair and crossed her arms. “Where were you today? I told you to get that sand cleaned up.”

Cole groaned and pulled a wad of cash out of his sweatpants pocket. He counted up an amount that seemed reasonable to him and stuck out his hand to give it to her.

“Get Gretchen back.”

~

Cole woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. The sunburn was beginning to fade and he’d caught at least eight hours of sleep. He cracked his knuckles, stretched himself out, and laid back down to get more sleep. That was the plan, anyway.

Ginger came knocking on his bedroom door. “Cole! Cole!”

“What? What?”

She barged in and he covered himself with his blanket.

“Hey! Privacy, please!”

Ginger snorted. “Yeah, as if. Say goodbye to privacy. You’re the hottest thing on the whole internet.”

“Huh?”

She tossed her iPad into his lap. There he was, on the front page of Rolling Stone, with one hand on Rikki’s chin and the other pulling his leash. The headline read, “Rikki Numbers Shadow Drops New Double LP” and the tagline read, “Guess who’s (not) back on top.”

“You’re famous, Cole. You put the most popular femboy of our time on a leash!”

“Technically, he put himself on a leash. But sure.”

Cole read through some of the article. It talked about how this new album, Eclipsed, was some work of artistic genius unseen in the pop space for years. It had already shot up to number one before most of America was awake. “The question on my mind, and that of most music fans, is who is the mystery subject who shares the spotlight with Numbers on the cover? We may not know until the album releases on vinyl next week.”

Cole put down the iPad and looked up at Ginger. “Wait, no one knows who I am yet! Do you think they’ll recognize me?”

She looked him over. The pale sunglasses shape around his eyes stood out immediately.

“Uh… no, absolutely not. No way. On that note…” She took the iPad back. “We’re out of milk and I have a meeting scheduled in twenty minutes. Can you go out and buy some?”

~

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah!” Cole screamed, as he ran down the sidewalk in sandals swinging a paper bag with a milk jug in it.

The cashier had noticed him at the register and blurted out, “It’s the sun prince!” Which sent the whole Trader Joe’s into a frenzy.

Now, a crowd of at least a dozen crazed fangirls chased him down the street, where he hid himself behind some garbage cans in an alley. The deception worked… mostly.

“Hi!” said a voice next to him.

Cole scrambled to get away, but she grabbed his leg.

“I’m your biggest fan!”

“That’s great, thank you! I need to leave!”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Can I come with you?” She fluttered her eyes.

“Uh… on second thought, I’m going to work. And we’re not allowed guests in the building, so, uh, you won’t be able to come in. Very sorry.” He brushed himself off and called Ginger for help.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something, Cole.”

“Yeah, me too! I was spotted!”

“So?”

“I need a ride. I’m not safe.” He made eye contact with the girl and covered the mouthpiece. “Not that I feel threatened by you of course.”

She nodded, beaming.

Cole whispered. “These people are insane!”

“That’s showbiz.”

“What the hell do you know about showbiz?”

“I’ve watched child star documentaries.”

“Can you stop joking around and come help me?”

She sighed. “Alright. This meeting is just about email policy anyway.”

Please comment, reblog, like, and follow if you enjoyed - I'd love to know what you think! See you again tomorrow.

[abiwaif]

Well placed...

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #180

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

Cole would love it if you got to know him - check out his previous work.

Cole stepped through the glass door, tracking sand into the kitchen. His deep red skin was beginning to sting, and he walked bowlegged to avoid his thighs touching one another. He stripped off his hat, glasses, and bikini and ran to take a cold shower.

He shivered under the cool water as he soaped up a loofah - which, it immediately occurred to him, would have been rather painful on his sunburnt flesh. He squeezed the lather gently onto his chest and let it run down his body, careful to scrub only where his beachwear had shielded him. He had the tanlines he wanted, sure, but the color was all wrong. Hell, these weren’t tanlines, they were grill marks.

He rinsed and dried and wrapped the towel around himself - first just around his hips, but the bikini top outline didn’t seem to vibe with it so he wrapped the towel around his whole torso instead. Ginger was waiting in the kitchen when he came out of the bathroom.

“You got sand everywhere,” she said.

“So what? Gretchen is coming tomorrow.”

“Cole…”

Cole hated when Ginger said his name like that. She’d sounded like that more and more lately, and it always meant life was becoming measurably worse.

“Oh no… no, no, don’t tell me…”

“Electricity went up and I can’t afford my half of the cleaning bill. Plus, I know you can’t afford it. I had to let her go.”

Cole held out his arms. “Then who’s gonna clean this place?”

Ginger crossed her arms and smirked.

“Ah, geez…” Cole rubbed the back of his neck, then flinched. “Ow. I guess it won’t be so bad… maybe it’ll even be fun if I wear a maid dress to do it.”

“Well, you’d better get one fast, because this place needs cleaning ASAP. I’m gonna be mad if there’s still sand on the floor tomorrow.”

“But I have a shoot tomorrow! And don’t you want me to work on my commissions?”

“Too bad. Maybe if you actually finish something, you’ll be able to pay her next week.” Ginger stared at the pale shape of sunglasses on Cole’s face. “You look ridiculous.”

“That’s what you think!” Cole replied with an entirely fabricated confidence. “Just you wait, sis, just you wait. This time next week, everybody is gonna want to look like this!”

[wormfood2001]

✱

[sft-babes]

[fran-valz]

Class of '09 anime if it was good

[houndsofdoom]

looking for more people to follow so like / rb this post if you post :

— horror movies ( some of my favorites: saw, ginger snaps, house of 1000 corpses, texas chainsaw massacre etc…)

— werewolves

— nicole dollanganger

— resident evil

— monster high or living dead dolls

— hemlock grove

— goth aesthetic imgs

[postmoderntongues]

Before u suck the clit of a skinny white “artist” ask if the art would be as impressive/popular if the artist was a 400lb black woman

[nateyweb]

Young Aaliyah and Nicole Richie with friends as the Spice Girls for Halloween

[exquisitereds]

Nicole Kidman for Perfect Magazine

[ithinkdogshouldvote2]

Hey guys what if Lucinda×Nicole? How do we feel about that?

[helzindas]

probs won’t ever actually finish this but i need to get this concept out of my head bc unkillable ginger lesbians for the win !!

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #159

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

Cole lounged beneath a blood-orange sky, somewhere between dreaming and awake. An empty martini glass laid its stem atop his middle finger, gently resting upon the sand. It was impossible to tell just by looking whether Cole had his eyes open or closed, for atop them were a pair of sunglasses and a sun hat pulled over top.

His floral bikini hugged his body and left little to the imagination. Beyond the fun of it, he’d worn this to the beach in order to develop tan lines for a photo shoot, but at this point he’d laid there long enough that the tan lines became burn lines. Ginger pressed her hand into his smooth belly and left behind a white handprint that quickly faded… But not before Cole woke up.

“What? Huh?” He sat up and looked around, then realized the hat covered his eyes and pushed it back up. “What’s the deal, Ginger? I was napping!”

“It’s going to get cold soon, and you don’t have a jacket.” Her eyes moved to his crotch. “Or much else, really.”

He laid back down and put the hat back over his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Come on, Cole, you’ve been out here all day. Didn’t you tell me you have commissions to work on?”

“I can do it tomorrow.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“I’m not going to do my best work if I’m not in the right headspace.”

“And when is that gonna happen, huh?”

“It happens when it happens.”

“Well, bills and deadlines happen when they happen, too, but they don’t revolve around your ‘headspace’.”

“Fine, I’ll take it out of my savings. Lay off.”

“You’re going to run out of savings someday, you know.” She walked away. “That is, if the melanoma doesn’t get you first.”

“Melanoma?” He flipped up his hat and glasses and looked at his lobster-red body. “Dammit!”