#clrkingrm

[reynakeegan]

slurs!! :D

send “slurs” for drunken thoughts

❝ claaaaark! i finally listened to your mix    tape. not gonna lie, i was listening to    it on loop... i might be close to wearing    it out. it’s amazing! you’re amazing! ❞

[isanosa]

✿

send me a ✿ for a snapchat from my muse to yours:

isadoremifasosa: bdeisadoremifasosa: do you get itisadoremifasosa: because it’s my kittenisadoremifasosa: and you drew a cat with an enormous penisisadoremifasosa: anyways get ready, we’re putting dickcat on the town hall buildingisadoremifasosa: i’ll be there in five

[connor-undrgrnd]

▲☏

(send me a ▲ for an instagram picture from my muse about your muse)

@conye_west: death metal shirts: $20. eating so much mexican food u wanna black out: priceless.

♥ 30 likes✏ [view all 4 comments]@ramonthejanitor: legend@trashrat: if u don’t black out eating mexican food what’s the point

(send me a ☏ for one voicemail left by my muse on your muse's phone)

BEEP ....hello? ...uhhhh, i’m litty titty at camille’s place, can you come pick me up? i’m, like... cannot drive right now. (there’s an obvious slurp of wine and giggling over the sound of blur playing in the background) i will buy you food! and cam says it’s cool if you wanna hang out for a lil’ bit, i just, like, totally forgot i work tomorrow and should probably, like, end up passing out at home, ja feel... driving in the morning, man. it’s just, like, no bueno. okay, text me, love you, bye! CLICK

[charleyfry]

TEXTS THAT TOTALLY HAPPENED ft. @clrkingrm

[bluejamiemoon]

@clrkingrm​

Is this his best idea, or his worst? Jamie isn’t entirely sure but oddly enough, he’s feeling… optimistic? Is that crazy of him to think? Possibly, considering he’s banking on Clark to listen to him. But, he’s choosing to believe that his friend’s penchant for annoying people will finally be directed towards someone else and not him.

He parks his car on the street outside of his father’s house, taking a quick look around before figuring out he’s the first to arrive. Fine by him, it gives him a minute to mentally prepare himself for yet another dinner with his dad…. plus Clark Ingram. A knot forms in his stomach at the thought.

Fuck. Maybe this is a bad idea.

Jamie shakes his head, trying to think that everything will go terribly, but the kind of terrible that he’s hoping for. Hopefully. He pulls his phone out and fires off a couple of messages to Clark.

( sms — trashboy ) please tell me you didn’t shower

( sms — trashboy ) i’m outside of my dad’s, i’ll wait for you out here

He shoves his phone in his bag and gets out of his car, slamming his door shut with his hip. Shit, it’s cold but, luckily, he has the perfect remedy for that. Kind of. Jamie fumbles through the contents of his bag before pulling out his most recent purchase in a brown, paper sack - four mini bottles of tequila bought at Dingle’s finest liquor store. Uncapping one, he gulps down the contents in one go, scrunching up his face at the taste. Terrible, but he’s gonna need to be at least a little buzzed to deal with whatever the night will throw at him. The paper bag crinkles loudly as he sets it on the top of his car, him pulling out a cigarette and a lighter from his coat pocket.

Jamie’s halfway through his cigarette when he sees lights coming down the street, perking up at the hopes of it being Clark. He squints at the car and waves awkwardly with his free hand - Yes, he probably looks stupid, but he’s hoping he at least looks stupid to a friend instead of one of his old neighbors.

[tvrrances-blog]

          torrance came out of the trio bathroom, where she’d been doing just fine, and also where she’d spent a solid twenty minutes responding to her bandmate’s tinder messages. not as herself though, that’d be weird ( more weird than spending twenty minutes locked up in a stall ? debatable ). instead she’d taken on the identity of a soggy taco from taco bell, using the best pictures she could find on google images in the midst of her last high. was it wrong ? probably, yeah. but as long as it didn’t break up their band, torrance wasn’t too worried. moving from the bathroom to the concessions counter, she propped herself up onto its surface, and looked down at clark ‘ hey, d’you bring a charger ? my phone’s about to die and i need to make sure it stays on so i can respond to some really important texts. unless –– ’ she paused, throwing her chin forwards his phone, ‘��uh –– unless you need to charge yours. you’ve been using it a ton, so you might need it more than me. ’ / ( @clrkingrm ! )

[junearmstrcng]

@clrkingrm

Delivered on Christmas morning with a hand written note:

"Merry Christmas, cutie pie! 

It’s not much, but I couldn’t help myself. Please think of me whenever you use your new mug, inevitably as a shot glass or ash tray. I think you’re the bees knees, dorkasaurus. I’ve enjoyed every firecracker we lit off at inappropriate times this year and every burrito we shared after lighting said firecrackers and every time we had to run from that mom on Sullivan St after one of them set off her car alarm. Fucking times.

Never change,

June”

[charleyfry]

ft. @clrkingrm

We Have Always Lived in the Castle

[shuifong-blog]

✉

send me a ✉ for three texts from my muse to yours

[ 7:46 PM ]: if you don’t answer me i’m telling connor about your tiny dick

[ 3:23 AM ]: idk if you’re awake but if you are can i call you please its dark and i

[ 3:33 AM ]: nvm 

[isanosa]

clrkingrm replied to your post “[[MOR] hello all, i am officially half alive ! i still have a few...”

MISSED U QUEEN

OMG PLS SJKSDKJ THANK YOU BBY

[connor-undrgrnd]

@clrkingrm

connor couldn’t bother to lift his head up when he heard the creaking of the front door, encapsulated in a blanket on the couch. his eyes were dry and rimmed red from pot and birthday depression tears, hyperfocused on the deep sea documentary currently blaring from the tv. learning about electric eels was enough of a distraction from the mess sprawled out on the table: an open bottle of wine that was a quarter of the way gone, a sad amount of candy, and a halfway eaten big mac that was perched against a bong. as the footsteps approached the living room, he tentatively moved the blanket away from his face, peeking out from underneath. “...don’t look at me. i’m dying.”

[charleyfry]

tagging @clrkingrm​ location: breeze blocks

Charley has always been under the assumption that, if she hasn’t been screamed at or explicitly told, she’s friends with everybody. After all, she does has her father’s trademark oblivion to social cues, as she stands here beside Clark, who she coincidentally met at the arcade, on her day off. “Okay so, here’s the thing. Bertie’s coming over for the extended weekend, because he told Mom he’s got the sniffles, and for some reason, she thinks it’s perfectly okay to send him on a bus back to Dingle. Anyways, how am I supposed to look at my little brother in the eye and tell him that the Mrs. Pac Man game is gone for good? He wanted to beat Alf’s high score, but now he’s never going to see the lovely missus Man.” She finally turns to face Clark, as if waiting for his opinion. She just assumes, since she’s on good terms with all of the Leech Fragments, that her and Clark were more than dandy. “Thoughts? I mean, I could always just challenge him to skeeball, right? Would that work?”