#drinking red bull like a chad

[d16devotion]

rodimus with da red bull

[golden-loona]

found you | chapter one

summary: jungkook finds a pink diary in his drawer that connects him to another timeline. where will it take him?

pairing: jungkook x oc

tags: slight college au, sci-fi(ish), fluff

words: 1034

no warnings needed / this is not fully proofread

this is not to be copied or translated. thank you!

jungkook is a very typical broke, uni student in their 20s. his room is a mess, his roommates drink too much. his diet is not the greatest. but he gets by. day by day. hour by hour. his life is one of obstacles, random adventures and a very high amount of rude customers at his job.

but so is life, right?

it’s saturday, 5.40pm. the bus took longer than usual today, meaning jungkook is coming through the door a little later than normal. he gently kicks a lone t-shirt left on the floor out of his way, trudging to his desk and sitting with an exhausted huff. 

jungkook’s room is truly him, encapsulated. a marvel poster barely hanging onto the blue-tack sticking it to the wall, pokemon cards randomly scattered on his desk, some anime figures on his shelves. it’s a disaster, but he loves it.

jungkook stretches his neck side to side, yawning sleepily as he sits back more comfortably in his chair. the mouse clicks as he moves it around lazily on his desk, assignment deadlines glaring on his screen with a demanding excalamation mark. 

university was always his choice, jungkook’s parents were never the type to push and he was thankful. but he did this for himself and fuck did he regret it. assignment upon assignment, debt after debt. tuition fees higher than some of his classmates. it feels like a neverending traffic jam sometimes, always stuck in the same place. deadlines to meet and shifts to attend.

after over an hour of endless typing about whatever business related topics he needs to write about, jungkook sits back with a sigh. his eyes naturally scan his desk and he notices the drawer slightly open, a pink tinge shining through the gap. what the fuck? jungkook pulls the drawer open curiously and there it is.

a pink diary.

jungkook doesn’t own a pink diary. has never owned a pink diary. where the fuck did this come from? jungkook grabs the diary, his fingertips feeling down the spine. it’s slightly weathered, the pink tinted with use. the pages not as white as they probably were when brand new. 

he studies the diary for a moment, biting his lip gently as he fights the urge to open it. a surge of questions still racing through his mind. his heart still racing with the panic of someone potentially coming into his room while he was gone. he reaches to place it back but the pull is magnetic. a surge of need in his veins, so he doesn’t put the diary back.

opening the diary, he flicks gently through the pages and finds entry after entry. clear and careful handwriting detailing a life he knows nothing about, someone’s life he is currently invading- he quickly closes the diary, feeling a pang of guilt. but the curiosity kills him, aches his bones slightly. that may be the exhaustion, but he’s still curious.

so he opens it back up, reading the most recent entry. whoever this is, gushing about chad michael murray in 2025? are they okay? jungkook thinks ‘fuck it’ and grabs a pen, getting to a fresh page and writing about his day.

august 30th

i’ve never written in a diary before, diaries are a girl thing to be honest. at least that’s what i thought. teenage girls have diaries. anyway. what do you write in this thing? about your day? well i served a very rude group of boys at work today, they all bought multiple pairs of sneakers though so thats cool. i’m living on a diet of ramen and red bull, not cool. peace, jk. 

jungkook closes the diary, dropping it back into the mess of trading cards, receipts and letters stuffed in the drawer and closing it. leaving the diary to be forgotten about, hoping it disappears like a fever dream.

the next evening, jungkook is slowly finishing a draft for his assignment. cracking his knuckles, his eyes happen to glance at his drawer and he has to do a double take. opening the drawer completely, he feels absolute disbelief. his stomach dropping slightly. the diary is still here. it wasn’t a dream. jungkook picks the pink diary up and rifles through the pages, looking for his entry from the night before. 

his chest stops, heart pounding in his ears as his eyes scan across the pages- now, this feels like an actual dream.

a new entry. 

august 31st

who are you? how did you find my diary? why are you writing in it? did you break into my room? DID YOU READ PAGE 13? oh god. whoever you are, leave me and my private thoughts alone. mingyu if this is you, i’m telling mom.

they fucking answered.

something deep in the pit of jungkook’s stomach tells him to burn the damn thing, but he feels that pull again. the magnetic one. the one that can’t bring him to just leave this diary alone in the drawer. the one that tells him to keep writing and reading. he re-reads the writing over and over again, mentally chuckling at the sassiness in the written words. 

jungkook gulps and grabs his pen, unsure on whether to write another entry. his pen hovers over the fresh page next to the new entry but he hesitates. what if this is his roommates fucking with him? that’s embarrassing for sure. but this just.. feels weird. like a twirly feeling in his belly. a fuzzy feeling in his veins. 

he finally puts pen to paper, letting the barrage of thoughts spill onto the page like the diary is his. the pen glides with ease across the paper, a small smile curving onto jungkook’s lips as he writes a response. hoping to get a sassy remark back from the diary’s owner.

august 31st

page 13 huh? kissing your brother’s best friend is the highest of crimes, diary girl. i assume you’re a girl, this is a pink diary and you have written in many glittery pens. anyway, who are you? what’s your name? why are you invading my desk drawer with your pink diary and glittery pens? 

from, boy who’s not a criminal.

p.s. i’m not mingyu.

a/n: short and sweet beginning. my first fic <3 enjoy

next chapter // fic masterlist

golden-loona 2025

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Three, Part 6

"Cool. Did you go to school for it?" Adam asked leaning closer to me so I could hear them during another three-chord anthem.

"Not at all. Just worked my way up. What about you? You in school?"

"Yea, focusing on political sciences. Another useless degree."

I laughed slightly, "Aren't they all?"

"Just work?" I was wishing the conversation would die out, but it seemed he was determined to make small-talk, the worst kind of talk.

"Yeah. I decided not to go after a piece of paper degree."

"Fair enough.," Adam sad, and took a drink from his beer. He was an alright guy. At least from our small talk. Even so, it's the first time I'd actually talked to a stranger that isn't a clerk in quite some time, other than Addison. And she never felt like a stranger.

The next band had begun setting up. Another three piece with three chords. Just by looking at them, you could easily figure out they were either a hardcore band or some sub-genre of metal. I think they called themselves Fist of Slaughter or something stupid like that. I don't really remember; my eyes were continuing their quick stolen glances at Addison. I knew for sure now that she was doing the same.

I had finished my beer, and figured another one or two would be alright. I tapped Addison on the shoulder, pointed at my drink and pointed at her. Bar signing if she wanted another. She smiled and handed me her empty glass, mouthing the words thank you. I grinned back and headed to the traffic jam of a bar.

It took a few minutes for the bartender to get to me. I didn't blame him. It seemed every single person in that bar was getting a drink between the bands.

"High Life, Vodka-Red Bull." I said to the bartender when he cupped his ear towards me. He nodded and handed me both of them really quickly. Then he was off, on to the next customer. The guy could hustle. I laughed slightly, thinking of how Amber would handle this on her own.

I made my way back to the table Addison had put me at. As much as I disliked having to be social, I wasn't minding this that much. Adam seemed like an alright guy and Lily seems like she could be a serious kind of fun trouble, but in a wholesome heart felt way. Chaotic good, I guess.

And then there was Addison. A girl who officially grabbed my attention and was not letting go in the slightest. She was reeling in her catch, fast and tight. It was strange to me, but I wasn't fighting in any way. I was swimming with the pull. I wasn't running away from any actual idea of being interested in someone again. I wasn't running from the risk that I'll be destroyed again. She was something new. Something right. Something maybe even real. I really had no idea. All I know was that I liked her. Like an instant like. The only other person that had every happened was with Chad when we met in high school. And he's basically my life-partner.

The table had slightly changed. Lily was sitting next to Adam. I hadn't noticed, but they must have been a couple. They were holding hands now, and he kissed her cheek, lovingly. Almost as if they were some old couple that somehow lasted fifty years together.

Addison was sitting next to me. I handed her her drink and sat next to her. We watched the band for a few minutes, which was more than enough to tell you they were nothing special. Just generic hardcore. If I wanted to hear D.R.I or AFI's first album, I'd go listen to that. Still, they had the passion.

After the third 90 second song, Addison tapped my shoulder and mimed smoking a cigarette. I nodded gratefully. I needed a break from this one. Plus, a cigarette didn't seem like that bad of an idea. If anything, it meant I got one on one time with Addison again.

"Well, they kind of suck," I said, sitting down next to her on one of the wooden benches. There were only a few other people outside, and I recognized no faces. I lit my cigarette and held the lighter out to her to light her own.

"Thanks," she said, sitting back against the somewhat dry bench. "Yeah, they're not very good. I mean, at least I know Empty Playground is listenable."

[theinkedbrothers]

The Crash Palace Introduces Nye Preece

I had met this pretty little thing. She spoke with a softened kid-like demeanor, bounced in her seat as she swirled a spiral straw in some fruity drink with a grin. I knew this bar didn't carry those prissy straws cause I've heard many girls’ complain about it. Her side eyed lingering looks weren't sly, nor were they unnoticed by more than myself. Usually, it was the tattoos. Or the resting facial features.

“You look like you're trouble…” she started the conversation as I'd settled in the stool beside her. She looked rather young to be in a bar, but the bartender, and bouncer were easy to pay off. I'd known that since I'd paid them off multiple times when Niko had taken it upon himself to destroy our life time after time.

“I am trouble, and you look too young to be in here.” I swirled a finger in the air, generalizing at the bar. I frequented this place. I knew the bartender by name,

Chad, we’d gone to grade school together. Before Maw pulled me and Niko out to homeschool. I had only lasted a year before she was forced to send me to some private school her father had forced her to send me to. Niko thrived under her heavy hand, I did not.

I ordered a whiskey on the rocks. She put up her fingers to make it a double and two glasses. Did I miss judge this girl? “I'm of age, I assure you…” she giggled, tucking a strand of blue hair behind her ear. Sliding a few bills across the bar top as the drinks are settled in front of us. Hers was swirled with the spiral straw she plopped from one drink to the next. “Veronica…” she whispers with her hand out to me.

“Nye,” I offered, in return for a softened tone to match hers. I take her hand and kiss her knuckles watching the heated blush fill her cheeks. Interesting.

“Charmer, I'm sure…” she took a small sip of her drink and made a face. I gulped mine back with a chuckle that garnered a small huff from her. I bet she was stomping her foot too. She seemed the type.

“I can charm the panties off most…” I chuckled at the redness spider down her chest. I had come here to blow off some steam after the week I'd had. We introduced Niko to the new coroner, Lilith finally met Wren face to face and it felt… surreal how well life was settling into the mundane. Therein lay the problem. Idle hands and minds with the Preece men meant trouble. So, yes, maybe I had trouble with the normal.

My anger boiling, the urge to knock Niko out was like a bull in a glass house. Inevitable. He'd let me. “Maw said you'd return the pain she gave you to me…” the cryptic bullshit he spouted off just angered me more. Something has a hold on me and the walls are closing in. I attempted to loosen the tie from around my neck as she watched.

“Daddy always has problems too…” she swats my hands with a slight nervousness undoing the knot with a softened smile. A pat to my chest from her small delicate hand. “There, all better.”

She adjusts herself back into her stool, taking her straw from the whiskey pushing it to me as she puts it back in her pink drink. She smiles. “All better!” I tipped the glass back with a wink that had her giggling again.

“What are you?” I asked. Intrigued by her demeanor.

“Ahhhhh,” she elongated the sound as she thought about the question. She smiled. “Now that is a story for a different time. Maybe we will see one another again?”

“Well Veronica, I sure hope you keep to that promise.”

“Mister Preece, I have to be honest… I know who you are.” She admitted softly. Sliding a red envelope in my direction. I was taken back slightly at her knowing my last name. How? “I hope you take the invite. It changed my life.”

Veronica slid a few more bills to the bartender as she leaned over the top. Her small skirt lifts up showing everything. She tried to use her left leg, bent up with her heel up to cover herself. It did slightly. She was spolitching from head to toe at this point.

That… was hot.

“Drinks are on me… you should heal. Anyway you find it possible.” She pressed her lips against my cheek as she nipped at my jaw. My hand went to her ass, with a slight squeeze that earned a slight slap to my chest. She wiggled her way out, flustered and bright red. “Give Thrax a kiss for me!”

[ellie-s-list]

Light in the Darkness (2)

Abby Anderson X Fem!Reader, College AU, Part 2

Pt. 1 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Second part!!! I hope you like :)

TW: Anxiety, Irrational thinking

Chapter 2

Hot Mess, Cobra Starships

“You think you’re hot shit,

—Well you’re a hot mess and I’m falling for you

And I’m like hot damn, let me make you my boo,”

The ninth week of class ended quickly enough. Two days a week you had both lecture and lab, four times a week you had to see Abby and talk to her. Abby’s not bad, actually she’s cool and it’s getting harder to forget your attraction for the buff blonde. One thing she does is always text you first, and you always try to text back, but sometimes you don’t know what to say.

Your phone pinged from its spot on your bed. Pulling on your sweatshirt, you turned to grab your phone. Sitting, you hoped it was a text from your friend group cancelling plans last minute. Yet, your hopes never came to fruition, as it was your friend, Tatum, telling you she was here to pick you and your roommate up.

Exiting your room, you saw Max putting his shoes on, “You ready?” You asked and he nodded.

In the car your phone pinged once again. You were in the passengers’ seat of Tatum’s Prius. Bailey, Tatum’s roommate, and Max were in the back seat. You picked your phone up from your lap and saw a message from Abby.

From Abby (Chad)

Do you have plans tonight?

To Abby

Sadly, yes. Can’t stay home forever unfortunately.

From Abby (Chad)

Rough.

“We’re here,” Tatum stated, causing you to put your phone away.

The bowling alley was packed, which made sense since it was a Friday night. Your group managed to get an alley with a table, and all four of you were able to grab preferred bowling balls. Half-way through the first game a group came in and was able to grab the lane next to yours. They grabbed the corresponding table as well and a certain blonde braid caught your eye.

Abby and her friends were at that table. It seemed that she hadn't seen you yet, so you turned back to your table, back now facing Abby and her group. You secretly hoped that she would see you, that she would reach out first. But there was no reason to, she was with her friends.

“Oh,” Tatum pops up, looking at her phone, “Our pizza’s done.”

“I’ll go with, I want a drink,” You state, getting up with her. You followed her to grab the pizza, Tatum paying for it and you paying for an 8 oz Red Bull can.

On your way back, you passed Abby’s table. A voice caused you and Tatum to stop walking, just a few feet away from your group.

“Those are bad for you, you know,” Said a pasty man with a slightly grown out blond buzz cut. His eyes screamed with a sense of superiority, arm hanging off the back of his chair. A second after his claim, you met eyes with Abby. Her blue eyes widened, recognizing who her friend was talking to.

“Owen-” She came to your defense but you held your hand up.

Opening the Red Bull can, you took one hand and flipped Owen off. The other hand that was holding the Red Bull tipped the can back onto your lips, and you then proceeded to chug the contents of the bubbly energy drink. The drink burned your throat, but you kept going until there was nothing left in the can. When you finished, you took the hand that was flipping Owen off and burped behind it with a smirk.

Owen looked horrified, maybe even disgusted. You didn’t care, leaning down to look him in the eyes. “You know, Owen was it?” You ask, taking on a mocking tone to your voice. “Your mom seems to like it when I have enough energy to fuck her more than once.” His face morphed into genuine disgust, probably at the thought of you possibly screwing his mom. You kind of hoped that she was hot, making it more plausible in his mind that it could happen.

Rising to your original height you put a hand on Tatum’s shoulder, “I’d love to stay and get to know you, maybe I’ll see you at Thanksgiving with your mother.” Turning, you directed a frozen Tatum back to your groups table. Tatum placed the pizza on the table, you placing your can on the table as well so you could open the box.

“Stop gawking like hungry birds and grab a slice,” You say, looking up from the pizza to your friends. The only one who wasn’t that shocked was Max, who was your childhood best friend. He knew you more than virtually anyone else, knowing that what you did was an act of defiance. You were a ‘brat’, as he put it, and you didn’t mind because it caused people that you didn’t like to not talk to you anymore. Sometimes it was amusing, watching people try to figure out what you meant.

Everything went back to normal after you handed out plates of pizza, the game ensuing and Max winning with two strikes at the end. You weren’t particularly good at bowling, having rarely done it, but you found it amusing and it was a nice way to hang out with your friends without having to go to a rowdy club.

Someone had to say something at one point, and that someone was Tatum. “That was cool,” She said, looking at you, “What you did back there.”

“Yeah,” Bailey agreed, coming back from bowling first at the start of the second game. “Badass,” She took her seat.

Max shook his head, laughing. “She’s a brat, what she did there was brat energy.”

“I may be a brat but it works,” You defend yourself, glaring playfully at your friend.

“Either way,” Bailey shrugged, waving Max off. “It was by far a big ‘fuck you’ moment and I’m living for it.”

For the rest of the bight, your anxiety ate away at you. Owen was clearly Abby’s friend, hence them sitting at the same table. But Abby seemed to try to defend you, but you also now have to face her on Tuesday, and if Abby didn’t like you anymore, it would be super awkward. These thoughts plagued you, swarming in circles in your mind. Your knee was bouncing, you only conscious of it when it hit the underside of the table. Maybe you shouldn’t have chugged the Red Bull, maybe a sip was better.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your hand subconsciously already going to grab it. Opening the phone you saw that Abby texted you. What could it be? Maybe she wanted to change to a different partner. It wouldn’t be too late, she could change and you could do it alone. But it wasn’t any of that.

From Abby (Chad)

You good?

To Abby (Chad)

Yeah, why?

From Abby (Chad)

You’re not good at hiding your anxiety

This caused you to turn around in your chair, looking towards Abby. She was already looking at you, not so discreetly. Owen had changed to sit at a different part of the table, glaring towards you every once and a while. Abby though, had concern written on her face. You turned back around, responding.

To Abby (Chad)

Wasn’t trying to hide it, thought out was obvious, Chad

From Abby (Chad) Chaderson

Why Chad?

To Abby (Chad) Chaderson

Pay me for an answer

Abby didn’t reply right away. Which was fine because it was your turn to bowl. After your turn, you looked at Abby and saw her getting up to bowl. You sat down and grabbed your phone, noticing a message from Abby.

From Abby (Chad)

With what?

To Abby (Chad)

The shoulds a million children

Abby must have been done bowling, since there was a huff from the table behind you. This caused you to smirk, putting your phone down to focus on the last round of the second game.

That next Tuesday came by quickly. Abby’s been texting you more often, usually sliding away from the topic of the project every time. You didn’t mind, actually liking the conversations.

From Abby (Chad)

Weird question

Frowning, you stared at the text message. You were sitting on your dorm room’s couch, playing a video game.

To Abby

Yeah?

From Abby

Could I come over so we can work on the project?

Puzzled, you lightly bit your nail. Everything was going fine, having had classes on Tuesday and Thursday, you guys were actually right on track. Maybe she wanted to get it done early, so you typed back a yes with your dorm room number and building name attached.

From Abby

Sweet, be there soon

You kept playing your video game, although now distracted. Max wasn’t home, so you and your crush will be alone. Alone together, for God knows how long. Your stomach started feeling heavy as you paused your game, entering the war of thoughts in your mind.

Time must have gone by quicker than you thought, a knock being heard from the front door. Letting out a captured sigh, you stood up and approached the door.

Grasping the cold door handle, you open it to see the blonde that haunted your thoughts. She was wearing a maroon hoodie with black joggers, her hair in a low ponytail. A goofy grin adorned her face, eyes lighting up when they met yours.

“Hey,” You greet, stepping aside to let her in.

Abby walked in, allowing you to close the door behind her, “Hey.” She turned to watch as you walked over to the couch, gesturing to the coffee table.

“You can set your backpack on the table,” You state, taking your original seat on the couch.

Abby set her backpack down, sitting beside you. She was close, not terribly, but enough for it to not be normal.

“You like Detroit: Become Human?” Abby asks, causing you to look at her confused. She smiled at your reaction, nodding to the tv.

“I actually play a few different games, but this is my roommate's PS4,” You explain, pointing to the box full of games placed by the tv stand. “Those have both of our games, my PlayStations in my room. Do you play any games?” You ask, turning to look at her. She was close, too close for it to be normal. You flinched back at her proximity, she looked you in the eyes, her gaze going down to your lips then back up to your eyes slowly.

Before anything else could happen your dorm room door opened, someone slamming it behind them.

You peered past Abby, seeing that it was Tatum. Tatum was calling your name, all frustrated. She didn’t seem to know Abby was here, the blonde calling you a ‘useless lesbian.’ Realization dawned on her face when she noticed Abby sitting beside you, her body somewhat hiding your own from Tatum’s stare.

“Oh, um,” Tatum blushed, rubbing the back of her head.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned onto your knees, “I’d like to say I have many uses as a lesbian.”

Tatum seemed frozen, “I didn’t know you had anyone over.” She was bright red, you took in her skimpy outfit. She must have been on a Tinder date, trying to blow off steam. It must not have gone as planned.

“I’m guessing you didn’t get laid?” Abby looked at you, confused with your blatant question towards your friend. You didn’t look back, instead watching Tatum walk over.

“Yeah.”

“Thought so, Tatum,” You gestured to Abby, “This is my lab partner, Abby.” Abby nodded to Tatum, giving a small wave.

Tatum then smirked, looking at you with a suggestive look, “Were you-”

“Do you want a drink? Let me show you the new pop Max got,” You stood up quickly, walking over to grab Tatum’s arm. Directing her to the kitchen, you turn and whisper, “She’s just a friend.”

“I’m sorry, it didn’t seem like it,” Tatum wiggled her brows, she then turned serious, “Do you want me to leave?”

You shook your head, “I don’t want to do school work, so you should definitely stay and distract us.”

“It didn’t look like you were doing school work.”

“Shut up.”

For the next couple hours, you, Tatum, and Abby talked while you played through Detroit: Become Human. Abby and Tatum seemed to click, which was great. But as you played, you tuned Tatum and Abby out. Tatum outed you as a lesbian to Abby, which could be in your favor, hence your budding crush on the buff blonde. She may get the hint. Abby’s also showing interest, she may have kissed you if Tatum didn’t barge in. Would you have kissed her back? Did you want her to kiss you? It’s not like you had much experience in dating, your first ever girlfriend breaking up with you as soon as school started. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, only having kissed each other a few times.

You lacked experience, but Abby seemed patient. Hopefully she isn’t even thinking about how much experience you could possibly have in dating.

“Well, I should leave so you two can get back to your project,” Tatum said, standing from her seat next to the couch. Her declaration caught your attention, causing you to pause your game.

“Have a good day,” You smile as she puts her shoes on at the door.

“It was nice meeting you,” Abby waved as Tatum waved back, closing the door behind her.

And here it was, you were alone again with Abby. She turned to you, cocking her head. “Do you want to work on the project?” She asked.

You frowned, shaking your head. “I’d rather play video games.”

Abby smiled lightly, going to grab her backpack. You grabbed her wrist, causing her to look down at you, “I have another controller.”

“Yeah?”

“And Mario Kart.”

“Compelling argument, I’m in.”

WC: 2,291

Date posted: 4/10/2023 @6:00 am

Tag list: @melaniin-monroe

If you want to join the tag list just message me!! :)

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

What is their go-to drink order?

First of, let's assume everyone is of legal drinking age, whatever that might be.

It's sixteen. If Ben can be a High King at sixteen, he can bloody well drink. I'm not taking criticism on that one.

Unsurprisingly though, Ben has never had as much as a champagne.

And Jane is stuck drinking kiddie fake-champagnes well into her twenties.

Now Audrey? Oh well. Her favourite is rosè, champagne, Skinny Bitch (vodka & soda) and Pink Gin & Tonic. If you pick an aesthetic, you bloody commit to it.

If she's doing shots with the pirates, she gets vodka, because Audrey post Queen of Mean is that bitch and fears no god. She could also do silver tequila.

Chad can't hold his liquor. He just can't. He has one (1) cider//Frisko and is crying. Audrey is suffering.

Anthony Tremaine gets some fancy brandy or whiskey on rocks. Again, Aesthetic, duh. Once he got this for Ginny Gothel and died a little inside when she declared that it doesn't taste any good and proceeded to pour Cola into it. Guess who learned to never ever do this the hard way.

Harriet Hook. Uuh. She has Problems. We know that, right?

On the Isle, she usually drinks Energy drinks with vodka, because she needs to stay awake, duh. Also rum, 'cos pirates, and red wine, 'cos Aesthetic.

If it's before noon, she gets a Mimosa, so she can feel fancy. Also espresso with vodka. Gin & Tonic.

Basically, you name it, chances are Harriet Hook has drunk it at least once.

She'd just like to forget and not feel, savvy??

Harry prefers rum and dislikes wine. He just has the vibes. Unless it's mulled wine which smells way better.

Uma also orders rum. She, however, really likes Pina Colada, but she won't order it herself, (because tough pirate Captain can't enjoy sugary long drinks, duh).

Don't worry though, Gil gets it for her every time he is getting them drinks.

Uma also doesn't pay for her own drinks, like, ever.

Gil likes ciders the best, even over beer, for which his father and brothers ridicule him. He doesn't care, though. He will also do shots of rum with the rest of the pirates.

CJ doesn't drink.

She has seen her family's hungovers and decided she is not doing thaz, thank you. She also dislikes the idea of losing the already poor control over her mind any more. It might not look like it, but CJ is a bit of a control freak.

Freddie Facilier drinks only when someone buys the drink for her. In which case, she'd choose a Chupito, a sweet shot with rum, lime liquor and cocktail cherry.

Celia Facilier doesn't drink and good for her.

Dizzy Tremaine is not allowed to drink. She doesn't particularly wish to, though.

Ginny Gothel mostly drinks wine, and if there is more fancy option available, she'll get Calvados (fancy apple liquor. It's good.) She is also not opposed to drinking Harriet's Red Bull with vodka though.

Claudine Frollo (once adopted by the Hooks). She also has problems, which, in this case, manifests as getting her drinks as vile as possible.

Campari Orange, as bitter as her soul. She can also pass it for an orange juice if she wanted. She's a hypocrite. (Campari Orange is legit good though). On similar note, Skinny Bitch, without the lime. She will do shots of pure vodka and drink Slammed-Tequila (shot of Tequila & shot of Sprite & ice), which is the most vile substance I have ever tasted. It feels like kerosene.

...Mal can't drink. I'm not taking criticism on that.

Evie and Carlos can do shots of pure vodka. Evie likes champagne more, though. She also has a vendetta against red wine, which was her mother's drink of choice, because it looks like blood, duh. Oh, and Aperol Spritz! (She and Audrey should be allowed to gossip and/or plan murder over a glass of Aperol. Ginny too. They'd vibe.)

Technically, Jay and Jade aren't allowed to drink for their own safety. Not because they'd drink too much, but because they insist on taking their usual Anything-but-the-pavement route no matter what.

One time, after some shots of Tequila, they convinced Audrey to go with them. She almost broke her neck, which might be because she refused to take off her high heels.

[okokokaythen]

NSR Headcanons

Aka NSR themed shower thoughts 

Bunkbed junction (Mayday + Zuke)

Mayday

- Has a secret stash of 1010 merch hidden in the sewer that she hides from Zuke (He already knows and doesn’t tell May to entertain her)

- Sometimes call Zuke, ‘Zukie’ after the DK west encounter(s) 

- She is banned from babysitting Yinu (for obvious reasons)

- She sleeps on the top bunk 

- She memorizes small things about people and will sometimes give gifts as a token for forgiveness after the events of the story

- She sometimes hangs on the pipes in the sewer instead of sitting on the couch (much to Zukes annoyance)

- She occasionally wears Zuke’s clothes 

Zuke

- Occasionally leaves the sewer alone to walk around or reflect on things

- Has a collection of books ranging from scientific journals to biographies, not exactly a fan of fiction

- Used to own a pair of glasses before he switched to contacts, after which they’ve gone missing

- Tries to organize and clean the sewer, but it being a sewer he hasn't gotten much done

- Occasionally visits eve to catch up and make amends

- Zuke is May’s primary impulse control

- He’s near the top of the list to babysit Yinu, behind Sayu/Tila

Both: 

- They have seen each other naked at some point with opposite reactions. 

- They take turns cooking 

- They style each other’s hair in the morning

- They refer Ellie as their baby

NSR 

DJSS

- He is Yinu’s homeschool teacher

- Owns a cat named Mars 

- Has a mixed relationship with 1010

- Tolerates Green 1010 the most

- increase size whenever he’s mad

- Sayu often appears on his screens to annoy him or just hang out

- He tolerates Sayu more than 1010

- He’s 1010′s pseudo uncle

- Undefeated in basketball 

Sayu 

- Is Yinu’s primary babysitter 

- Sayu, when not piloted, has an A.I. But is limited to cyberspace. 

- Her reverse form was made as a joke by Remi

- She knows a lot more than she leads on, and has appeared even on Tatiana’s computer, but she's ultimately harmless. 

- She’s often tasked to work as a firewall for NSR’s servers 

- She is surprisingly useful to have around.  

- There’s several platforms where Sayu can ‘Appear’ physically, similar to Cortana from Halo.

Yinu / Mother

- Yinu is homeschooled

- DJSS is her Homeroom/Science teacher, Neon J is her Shop/P.E teacher. Eve is her Art and Literature teacher, Mother is her Math/History teacher. Tatiana occasionally is her Economics/Math teacher whenever she’s not too busy.

- Sayu’s pilots and 1010 are her ‘classmates’ 

- She, along with Mother, visits her father’s grave at least once a month. 

- She does not like being picked up by anyone other than her mother. so she carries around a step stool.

- She likes that she has multiple babysitters, but wont admit it.

- Tatiana is her god mother/ grandmother figure

1010 / Neon J

-  Yellow often gets stuck on Green’s hoop

- Each member of 1010′s “brain” is a chip that is inserted into their head

- They are referred to by their color’s (I know they got names but I’m terrible at remembering them)

- White often gets picked on for watching Danny Phantom

- They had small ‘baby’ forms and as they ‘aged’ their chips/minds into different ‘aged up’ forms 

- Blue was the first designed but last built, white was built first.

- Red’s mohawk used to snap off a lot so recently its been made of a more durable but heavier. this makes Red slower than the rest of 1010

- Whenever 1010 cause chaos, Green and Neon J are often the ones to apologizing for their actions. 

- Neon J often refers to 1010 as Teletubbies, which annoys them.

- Neon originally wanted 1010 to be fighter pilots rather than sailors but knew how marketable sailors are so swapped the design. 

- When ever Neon J is ‘off duty’ he turns into the socks with sandals dad. making dad jokes left and right. 

Eve

- She sometimes visits the sewer hideout and is always grossed out but keeps it to herself to not upset Mayday/Zuke

- She still acts cold towards May, but she is warming up and is in general nicer 

- She sleeps in a giant hand shaped bed 

- Her entire house’s furniture is just hands and other abstract shapes

- She has several outfits based in other art movements, like surrealism (my favorite movement) and cubism for example

- Mayday and Zuke have spent the night there several times, Mayday has trouble sleeping due to the furniture

- Eve still reminisces when she and Zuke were together, but is still supportive of Zuke and Mayday’s relationship (romantic or otherwise)

(I do ship Mayzuke/Bunkbed lovers but I’m trying to not make it center stage in this post)

- After spending time with Mayday, she realizes she has more in common with her and often joke in Zuke’s expense

- Tatiana is a mentor figure to Eve, and if/when Tatiana retires, Eve will be her successor. 

Tatiana

- She often quotes Yzma around her collogues, such as, “I know its called a cruel irony, like my dependence on you.” to DK West

- She’s grown more laid back after the events of the story, but is still stern while working

- Sometimes she jams out with BBJ and even give pointers to Mayday

- If/When she retires she becomes more grandmotherly towards her collogues

- She often slows/stops time during meetings to take a breath/ get a drink or snack

DK West

- Whenever he is not working in his field, He often crashes at the sewer hideout 

- When he opens his eyes, his true power is revealed

- His Shadow bull (stand) sometimes appears and vibes with him

- He probably sleeps with his mouth opened 

- This man is vibes first 

- He radiates the same energy as the Giga-Chad meme

[awsugar]

this isn't about 4loko but the chad lesbian in her 40s i used to work with, when we'd talk abt going to the local gay bar, would be like "yeah i used to get trash cans they were great you would love it". (this is past tense bc she retired from being a party chad for her new career in being an objective milf, not a milf to me but literally so many women hit on her all the time). she completely failed to mention it contains a whole can of redbull. it also has SO much alcohol the way a long island iced tea does. this is something i only realized after it had been ordered. & that's one of the only times i have ever had memories get blurry from drinking sdjklfjsdfklsjd

oh my god. sounds insane. i used to love jaeger bombs which is red bull and a shot of jaeger. that always made for a fun night. but my one night of drinking long island iced teas was horrible and i can never do that again so that sounds like a horrible idea for me. props to her tho she sounds like a legend.

[cryptiddcroww]

Uh time for my cherub headcanons

☆ calliope is lactose intolerant and hate the fact they can't eat ice cream

☆ Caliborn (I know I'm getting his name wrong but idk) only drinks red bull like a real chad

☆ both of them remind have small incisions on there skulls whish are always swirly

[lovelyirony]

"Building a coffin from confetti and confessions / Maybe there will be a lesson / In the rubble when it's through / Buried in metal and a million memories / The temperature is rising to a thousand degrees" + Tony

People collect memories of you whether or not you want them to. This is a fact. Someone has a memory of your pajama pants at the grocery store. Someone else could remember the fact that you were blasting “Tonight, Tonight” by Hot Chelle Rae and you were crying and screaming the lyrics. They are wondering why you were doing that. Also why you screamed “fuck” seventeen individual times. 

So you might know this. You might have accepted this fact. Tony has. 

But there’s something else that only few know: you can manipulate people’s memories of you. 

If Tony wasn’t so dead-set on becoming an engineer, he probably would’ve become an actor something. He’s good at lying, but he’s even better at controlling the memories. 

People remember him getting shit-faced, out of control, but they never remember anything else. 

He likes that sometimes. That people think they remember the facts and then they don’t, because it can help sometimes. 

Sometimes. 

Not when he’s staring at the group that’s arrived, looking around at all the guests. 

It kind of sucks when you want friends. Or love. Both. Both is good. 

They call themselves the Avengers. Others do it too because they’re just...good. They’re the kids who talk to you when you’re stressed. Bruce Banner helps kids with science. 

Tony can’t--he couldn’t possibly do that. For a variety of reasons. The most prominent being that it would be considered a PR stunt and he really doesn’t want to do something that’s just for cameras and lighting settings. 

So he watches. Because that’s all someone like him can do in front of others, but behind the scenes he can do more. 

He can do things like be a superhero. Iron Man, they call him. People love him. They have t-shirts with his mask on it, and it’s kind of bittersweet because people would hate knowing that Tony Stark was behind it. 

And he also knows that people are better remembered in death. They become enshrined for their amazing acts of kindness and everything else usually gets swept under the rug for forty or fifty-odd years. 

So that’s what he’s planning on. Maybe people will discover it when he’s dead and gone and they will feel a little bit bad. Maybe they’ll try to prove that someone else was Iron Man. 

But for now Tony is content to sit on the sidelines and watch the Avengers roll their eyes as he waves. 

And then the unthinkable happens. 

Natasha walks up. 

“Why’d you invite us to this?” She demands. “We’re not exactly what you’d call your friends.” 

Tony smiles. 

“Of course you’re not. You do good and I spend money on Fireball for fraternity boys. That’s not exactly my candidate entry for sainthood.” 

Natasha has a small smile for a second. 

(He considers it a win.) 

“You still didn’t answer my question.” 

“Figure if I’m supplying booze, you all might like some of it,” Tony says with a shrug. “And just because Rogers rescues kittens out of trees and knows how to say ‘Our Father’ in sixteen different languages doesn’t mean I’m thinking he spends his Friday nights studying catechism.” 

At that one, Natasha actually laughs. 

She grabs an unopened bottle of rum. 

“Thanks, Stark. You’re a real pal.” 

Pal is usually used in contexts that are set in history periods or to remind someone what their place is because no one fucking uses pal. 

Natasha is essentially telling Tony that they appreciate it, but they’re not won over by the booze supply. 

He was expecting that, honestly. He still hates that she used “pal.” Who the fuck uses pal? 

And then an explosion. Of fucking course there’s an explosion, and people want to stay at Tony’s house and he wants to let them but someone might fuck up a painting, and--

Ah, shit. They’re gonna have to stay. 

“Well, you all have fun and all. If I find out that a painting is torn or a glass is broken, I will be using DNA testing to figure out who did it, and then you will be sent a bill. All the glasses are two hundred a piece and the paintings are insured but worth over thousands of dollars, most of which you do not have. Except for you Chad, go crazy. Isn’t your mom a plastic surgeon?”  

“In LA!” 

“Bravo,” Tony says, smile sarcastic. “Well then, I’m sure she’s proud you’re drinking Red Bull with Jaegermeister. A real winner, you are.” 

A few people laugh and Tony walks off while people presumably do their thing, and he’s out the door into the soft light. 

-

Iron Man flies in for the situation at hand, which is a group of chemical engineers gone crazy and trying to blow up a building or something. He hates them on sight. 

“Nice of you to show up,” Hawkeye says sarcastically. “What, get caught up by traffic?” 

“Foot traffic,” Iron Man says. “Impeccable reputation with the people, as you know.” 

“I’ve heard you make three different medieval history puns, I hate you,” Winter Soldier mutters. 

“And yet you understood all of them and laughed, so who’s the real loser here?” Iron Man snarks back. “Let’s kick ass.” 

The situation is taken care of fairly quickly, and Iron Man leaves it to Captain America. 

“As much as I’d love to chew these guys out about engineering principles, I really have a previous situation that I need to check on. Involves alcohol and no supervision.” 

“Say no more,” Winter Soldier responds. “Go. Do your thing.” 

Iron Man blows a kiss. 

Natasha knocks Bucky on the back of the head. 

“Why don’t you just buy him a house already? You look so lovesick it’s like you made a scrapbook for your wedding.” 

“Shut up,” Bucky mutters. “Let’s get back to where we were so there’s no suspicion.” 

“You can go back, I’m turning in,” Bruce mutters. “Way too many people.” 

“I’ll see you later, I’ll turn these shits into police,” Steve says. “Falcon, you’re coming with me.” 

“On it,” Sam says, grinning. “See you losers later.” 

- 

The party is still going on. There are no broken glasses or torn paintings, but Tony’s about ready to end it all (the party, that is) and kicks most everyone out. 

“Come on man!” A girl whines. “It was just getting good! Beer pong was getting set up!” 

“I’ll have you know I was born sophisticated and while I’ll snack on shitty, homemade excuses for snack mixes, I will not tolerate beer pong in this house. Leave.” 

With many a grumble, people go home quickly. 

Bucky Barnes laughs. 

- 

If you didn’t know, Tony has a Gigantic, Huge, Ginormous Crush on Bucky Barnes. 

It’s bad. 

Like, I-Can’t-Look-at-Him-or-I’ll-Die bad. 

So when he laughs? 

Tony’s heartstrings zing. Like the Judy Garland song to a T. 

“You’re a pretty funny guy, Stark.” 

“Only on Thursdays and Sundays and every other Friday,” Tony shoots back. Bucky still smiles. 

“Some party you were hosting.” 

“I like to entertain.” 

“You ever get exhausted?” 

“Only when choosing what cheese platter to order,” Tony responds, smiling. “But you guys should get home, get some rest. God knows I should, but I have too many projects to work on.” 

“You’re in mechanical engineering, right? I see you sometimes. I have a woodshop class there.” 

Tony blanks. 

Bucky Barnes has noticed him. 

Um. 

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Yeah, I go there. For class. A lot. Anyways, it was very nice seeing you all tonight, I’m going to bed.” 

- 

Tony lies awake at night and this time it’s from sheer embarrassment. He was talking in fragmentary sentences! Who the fuck does that? 

He’s going to fail his test tomorrow. He just knows it. 

- 

Bucky’s swooning on Cloud Nine. 

Tony Stark! Talked! To Him! 

Steve keeps making fun of him, but it’s worth it. 

“You still got tongue-tied around Iron Man tonight,” Steve teases. “I wouldn’t count it as an absolute win.” 

“Winter Soldier is supposed to be stoic and moody,” Bucky argues. “I think I won.” 

“You told Iron Man you hated him,” Sam deadpans. “Like you didn’t almost cry of happiness when he made that stupid fucking King Arthur pun.” 

“It was art, I’m meant to cry about it,” Bucky says. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.” 

He goes to bed with a smile on his face. 

Now, if there was a way for him to get closer to Tony...that’d be nice. 

[thatdamnokie]

Caffeine, Quiet, Fox

caffeine: what's your favourite drink?

oof, that’s hard. depends on the time of day and what i’m up to. i love red bull zero, guinness, black coffee, margaritas and bang energy drinks. ... not all at the same time though, can you imagine, :x gross. i also enjoy martinis.

quiet: who is your favorite person to talk to?

@circlesofbone and @agentargus are tied, but let the record show that i love talking to alllllll of my squad. i don’t have favorites so much as i have people that i just end up talking to more often in the day-to-day.

there is also, y’know, jesus. he’s pretty far up on the list too. :p and my best friends kara, chad, sarah and zack, who aren’t on tumblr.

fox: what trait do you like about yourself?

i feel like i can make friends pretty easily. the trick is asking interesting questions; that’s the easiest way to find things you’ve got in common, and once you’ve got that down, boom, you’re bros! :D easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy.

for the nighttime aesthetic ask meme here

[gotatext]

by this point im p sure u all know the drill.... i’m nora, 23, she/her, gmt and tonight matthew im going to be greta o’driscoll, a terrible person but a hot one which frankly makes it almost ok. here is her pinterest..... this intro is literally just copied n pasted frm the last time i played her so soz if u’ve read it like 10+ times.... 

「 diana silvers. cis-female. 」have you seen greta o’driscoll around yet? i hear she decided to be in POTENTAS for their SOPHOMORE year as a CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY major. the 20 year old SHEPHERD is known to be tenacious, magnetic, capricious and evasive. ➨ the muse is written by nora, she/her, gmt.

was adopted as an infant. had two foster moms and two older sisters so always surrounded by women. lived in a boarding house, very much like the one in 20th century women, with lodgers coming in and out all the time, mostly artsy young women because her gay moms were both high school teachers trying to set up their own arts collective. one of her moms left when she was 4, n she doesn’t really remember her.

while living with entirely women made her super into catlin moran and the guilty feminist, as a teenager she often let boys walk all over her bc she just craved male attention jst bcos she’d never really experienced it. saw it as something aspirational, like sitting in the back of chad’s second-hand truck while he drove you to macdonalds and offered you and his five friends with identical haircuts weed was the height of being cool to greta, she wanted to be their dream girl, even if it meant compromising her beliefs

was always a really sporty bitch. it started with a junior athletics squad, which turned into athletics and cheer, which then became athletics, cheer and hockey until she basically was doing a different activity every night. she came to see her body as a tool that she could make work for her if she trained it up and this attitude’s always kind of stayed with her that as long as her body is strong she is capable of anything. runs every day. 

bubbly bitch but also massive snake. metaphorically and literally, always shedding her skin. loyal to few, ruled by none, out for herself, babey!! every place she goes, she becomes a new character, someone who’s a figment of her imagination, as if each city is repertory theatre and she’s a character actress, so as a result som ppl think she’s called rita, some ppl know her as margot, she just flicks through identities like nobodies business.

left school at 18 n went backpacking around the states making money in the casinos by being a shot girl (yeehaw) and trying to make it as a mysterious 1920s widow with a smoky voice, a dark secret n a heart of gold, looking for love in the big city. all she found was producers and acting agents who’d promise her stardom n actually just fuck her in a motel n then ignore her calls.

TW domestic violence, TW gun, her watershed moment came when she met luke in sioux falls while she was working at a strip club. he was a few years older and had a car, and they kind of went from seeing each other to being that super intense couple who are just necking all the time.

they got engaged like 3 months after they met n rented a flat together, much to her family’s annoyance but she was 19 so there wasn’t much they could do. their relationship was super super intense though, often really heightened and when they fought it could become quite violent, but she’d pass it off as just him being really passionate.

one of their fights got really heated and greta threatened him with the gun he kept in the glove box of his vauxhall corsa, but the safety was off and she accidentally shot him. she pleaded self defence in the trial n cos of the amount of times she’d been hospitalised for various concussions n things like ‘fallling down the stairs’ the police were like yea… pretty watertight evidence that he was a bastard who [chicago voice] had it coming….. 

she’s now under witness protection, rehoused in livingstone as a sports-scholarship student, due to the amount of police involvement in the area, it would mean should one of luke’s family members try to track her down, she’d be relatively safe

massive sports fanatic. plays tennis. on the cheer team. was a track superstar in her high school. honestly just that sporty bitch, you’ll see her doing lines at a party at half four and then on your way to your 9am lecture you see her running across the park like a fresh fucking daisy who is this bitch. maybe it’s maybelline, maybe its coke.

massive feminist. low key quite scared of powerful men bcos of her ex. wants to start a female only lesbian commune bc she misses her childhood in a south dakota boarding house and has endless support for women. honestly annoyed that she is attracted to men, would so be 100% gay if it was a choice. cuffs her jeans and can’t drive. is That bisexual. skateboards. wears backwards caps.  i hate her 

isn’t a foward-planner, however. greta prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manners so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night.

has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning. 

not afraid to go after what she wants !! ambitious academically and romantically thirsty !! she loves the adrenaline of the chase. when someone’s easy to get, she becomes bored. very bisexual and very proud of it. feminist as fuck nd part of a queer representation in the arts group which holds fortnightly meetings to discuss lgbt representation in film, literature, art etc.

old soul in a young person’s body. all the shit that has gone on has kind of aged her. she’s quite cynical about everything now. always smoking smoking smoking. very edie sedgwick in that way.  little girls skirts bought for next-to-nothing at the market because she’s skinny enough to get away with it, barely long enough to cover your bum, and then the ugliest baggy sweater you’ve ever seen thrown over it.

likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramphone because “The Sound quality is Better” kfdsjj.

super into pop art and andy warhol. puts female friendships above everything but at the same time, would fuck her best friends man

her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk.

aesthetics:

a bubble of pink gum on chapped lips, mom jeans, a beaten up pair of adidas, denim jackets, strawberry laces, knee-highs, chapped lips, peeling sticky plasters, split knuckles, bruises you try to cover with concealer, stick and poke tattoos, hot coffee, sleep caught in your eyes on a lazy afternoon, kissing girls, cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, leonine arch of your back and that stellar smile that says ‘you have no idea who you’re dealing with’, a rucksack permanently packed for the move, a streak of red across your lips, roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your mom wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, his name scrawled in rage across the pages of a diary, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

wanted plots

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sports rivalries ! sporting friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!! 

since greta literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships

 girls from the cheer team who she’s like, weirdly intimate with like the shower together but its not a Thing cos the other girls straight !!! what do u mean !! aha just fun !

and I want like, fellow criminology students who are like?? how is this bitch still passing?? i swear she goes out every night?? 

she works part time at a fast food restaurant, i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry. 

ppl she did a few modules with ie. art history, bio-med, film studies, before changing course and somehow sort of remaining in touch with

 ppl who she runs track with. 

someone she’s trying to make a zine with. 

here’s a list of plots on her old blog if u want any of them w her.

would love plots of any type, throw them all at me please, i cnt wait to interact w all of u. like this if u want me to message you about connections / plots! xo

full biography if u can be bothered

trigger warnings: drugs, domestic abuse, gun.

you never meant for it to happen. you’d heard the stories, of girls who let their man walk all over them, and thought to yourself “i’ll never be one of those girls…” the kind that eat low-fat yoghurt and drink slim fast to shred a few extra pounds because he said she was getting round in the tummy, or the ones who spent their evenings tied to a kitchen sink drinking wine while him and the boys played poker, wishing god, if only I could get out of here. not you, not you raised by strong women, four bright shining beacons. single mother with her hard-as-nails attitude and her stony glares, elder sisters (twins) one ginger, one blonde, one doctor, one lawyer, both determined to take a bullet to the brain and a hammer to the patriarchy before they let a man touch them without asking. you were always so inferior, so insecure and small, like a bird (like a sparrow) with blonde plaits down your back sucking tropicana whilst your busom buds sucked dick, their lips permanently ripe with stories of their sexual exploits, fake tan and glittered nails whilst you sat in the unbroken egg of virginity wondering what it was like to be loved. one day you found out.

lily milligan’s parents gone and a free house for the night, bottles of ouzo and tequila swiped from your mother’s liquor cabinet thinking she wouldn’t know (she always knew) your legs, hardened from pep squad, slut dropping on a kitchen table because the boys thought it would be fun to get the quiet girl drunk. you’d never had a sip before that night. band t-shirts, denim shorts and the split soles of rotten converse that you refuse to let go of, you still clutched with both hands to your youth, but in a tube top now (borrowed from alice carmichael who had a sister in college) and a short tennis skirt, your feet not in trainers but in thigh-high boots. uncomfy as hell but lily said you needed to look sexy. you didn’t know if you wanted to be sexy. you didn’t know what kind of girl you were, if you were even a girl at all. but robbie looked at you like he knew exactly who you were, like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and his lips had the pink cupid’s bow of a movie star, and his hair was dark locks, curling like a mane. his hands were soft, and suddenly on your waist, and after three more shots his lips were on yours and his name was the only sound in your head and on your lips as you lost it in lily’s college sister’s bedroom beneath the glare of a T-Pain poster. you bled for what seemed like hours, his hand still in yours, kissing on the sofa as truth tellers and dare devils continued to spin a bottle of unprecedented youth. you thought it was love. robbie was the one. he loved you, you knew it, how else could someone be so soft? but soon he grew bored, scrunched up your paper heart and set it alight. then came the tears, the hatred, the ‘fuck robbie, in fact, fuck all boys.’ and that you did.

you were known for being easy. any boy could be yours for a night, as long as he promised to love you for those few short breaths and pants before you cried yourself to sleep. you felt poisoned, but poisonous as well, as if by ensnaring these young boys you were gaining power over them, and not the other way around. soon it started to work. they’d want more, but you’d deny them it, sick of sucking off silly schoolboys, they’d call you a tease, a vixen. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help but want older men. you got the history teacher first time, him bending you over his desk to sneak a hand up your tennis skirt as the after-school clubs carried on next door, unawares. love didn’t exist, not for you. it was nothing but a game for pretty young girls to play, bubble gum in their canines and a hand tugging at the hem of their cheer skirt.

there was so much anger inside of your small body, ‘beware of boys and their hook-like words’. hockey helped. there was something formidable about the feeling of a stick like a weapon in your hands and the thwack it made against thighs in the heat of a scrum - “slipped, sorry!” - you’d utter with a snakeskin smile, millicent quinn knowing that you’d hit her on purpose because she shagged robbie at that party last week. she couldn’t prove it, cobbled acne on her forehead turning green with disgust. ben came into your life like a car crash. two years your senior, with a baseball jacket and shoulders like a god. he became your personal hero. on the pitch, he was lethal. together, you could bring anyone to their ruin. each day after last period he’d be waiting in his car. you’d leap into his arms like a girl-half starved, love me, love me, love me, your heated kisses the envy of every junior girl. he was yours for three blissful years, utterly yours, and you were his, his star-spangled girl, and he was your knight - you were both the same, playing games, always difficult to predict. it was a shock to all when he proposed, high-school sweethearts find love in south dakota.

the engagement was a bittersweet affair; three months – you barely out of your gingham print skirts and into a graduation gown, him, a surly quarterback towering above your sisters, cigarette at his lips and a scowl like a fart in a lift. they hated him. so did you. but you were eighteen and in love, and he fitted the cookie cutter mould. everyone wanted him, and you had him. you had him and you were happy, happy, happy, and he loved you. he said he’d give you the world, anything you wanted hand-picked and given to you. instead, he gave you a jack russell terrier and a flat you couldn’t swing a cat in, wallpaper peeling like the rotten bits inside of you, the bits that only he knew. and you got tireder and tireder of the sad excuse of a life he’d picked out for you, him out doing god knows what to pay the bills, and you dancing on tables to pave your way to stardom, and this was love, this was real, until the shine wore off and your fresh-faced, dimple-cheeked cheerleader facade faded and the ugliness started to reveal itself, the whining, the petulance, the sharp-tempered cruelty, the mind games, the need to always win, win, win. he was dull, he was boring, he was nothing like the boy the girls had said he was and no chiselled six pack could hide his lack of anything remotely interesting, your patience wearing thin until it snapped like rubber, a rucksack on your back, running shoes on your feet and the joint bank account emptied into your eighth grade birthday wallet.

you built your small fortunes working the casinos of sioux falls, a crimson dress and an attitude to match. bookish archie with his little dipper freckles was fun for a month, before he became just as dull and dreary as the rest. a three hour bus and you were in minneapolis, bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh meat ready for the pickings. a hostel here, a friendly co-worker’s sofa there as you made what you could by taking off your clothes and shaking your ass like you were back in pep squad, doing what you did best. you met your fair share of creeps, and soon it was back on the road to escape a wide-eyed stalker and a restless itch for more. milwaukee, chicago, you made the roads your own. log cabins and lodgings, and the occasional motel, a beaten up pick up truck purchased at a scrap merchants – you got a few miles out of it before it bit the dust, and when you finally set it alight after nights spent lounging across the driver’s seat, a parka tucked over you as a duvet, you were sad to see it go. you’re nomadic by fault, never attaching to place, people or things, creating a new personality in every place you go like a character actress; each town is a different repertory theatre, and you’re the star. a compulsive liar, you even fib about your own name, to some you’re ellen, nineteen, bookish, a law student who likes smoking and cosmos. to someone else you’re rita, you’re twenty five and look young for your age, like smoking, comics and fucking in public places.

in the bright lights of michigan, you found charlie, sweet charlie, too good for you, though you let him spoil you while he thought you were the small town girl of his dreams. next came abigail, who was fun until the jealously kicked in, and then luke, gorgeous luke, dangerous, exciting, who despite his temper, despite the fights, despite bruises down your spine and your teeth marks on his arms, loved you with the strength of a wild fire. there was destruction in your wishbones, a savageness from the field, from the pitch and now somehow in his arms, you were godly. he was cruel, he was careless, and he refused to fall at your feet like so many other boys had, which only you made you want him all the more. you were rage incarnate. you hated him so fiercely you thought you might kill him, so he played the only card you wouldn’t predict; proposed.

the house you shared was a backstreet flat in detroit, you making your name as a downtown singer while he footed the bill with pills. they had a drug for anything these days, to dull the senses, to pick them up, to drive you to insanity or pull you out of the madness hole. the two of you lived like criminals on the run (you never told him that you were, living out your days as the enigma he wanted you to be), you with your voice like caramel and fishnet legs. you were his and his alone until his hand was at your throat and the gun was in your hands screaming at him to stop, stop, stop, until a bullet stoppered his brain, crimson staining linoleum as you cast yourself out like lucifer. self defence was decreed the moment they saw your violet neck, black tears and headlight eyes and mind screaming red, red, red like the pom-poms you shook so willingly in school and the insides of his skull. you were gone, and “you” was born, renamed “greta”, boxed, shipped-out, and next-day delivered to livingstone where under witness protection you were a student, blank slate, fresh-faced in a place where no one knew your name, doing what you always did and starting again.

[thekingsphinx]

Yo I know a Chad and he is a himbo who fuckin drinks respecting women juice like a collage student chugging Red Bull during finals week

[ilkkijangege]

111

Hello hello!

Not a major Chad Chronicles day but MF came over to our area to chat and I invited her to watch Mulan with me and that we should go have Bunsen. Then she pops over to Chad to say that she actually has never tried Bunsen and it is Bobo's she tried.

Then Chad goes: I KNEW IT! You couldn't have possibly tried Bunsen and not like it.

MF: Yes, Bianca told me the same thing and gave me a really weird look and I told her: I get that from Chad all the time! *Chad looks at me.* She asked me "which Bunsen did you go to?" So I showed her on the map and we found out it was Bobo's!

Me: Seriously, Bunsen is the best!

I wanted to talk to Chad about Bunsen but when MF left, he just put his headphones back on.

But please MF, keep putting my name in his mind! Soon enough he'll be thinking of me and Bunsen 😂 ugh I wish he talked to me more about Bunsen tho. Like Chad cmon, I wanna get to know you better, don't make this hard on me 😭

Then it was home time, we got out coats at the same time, as usual. Then I headed for the lockers first but I followed him to the exit. He didn't say bye to me so when we were out, I told him "See you tomorrow" and he turns around and said "See you" with a smile. Kilig ka chong? Jokes 😂

Sorry tlga if I seem deadma, I like you kasi kaya di kita ma approach 😭

(sidenote: on top of Hot Choccie, he is obsessed with Monster Energy Drink. Srsly not a big fan of Energy Drinks, traumatized with my Red Bull experience in college 😂)

[winchester-with-wings]

6,12,19,24,26,32,36,38,40,46,49 (I'm bored!)

You’re crazy! LOL

6: What kind of smoothie sounds good? It’s called and intense energy and it has red bull in it! I’ve gotten lots of people at work hooked on Berry Blendz (A local smoothie place)

12: Did you like swinging as a child? Yes! Of course! But I loved the tired swing my daycare had but lots of us had to fight over it and take turns

19: What’s the most delicious food I’ve every tasted in my life? pretty much whatever I’m eating for lunch or dinner that day lol I’m very picky so I’m selective about my food and enjoy everything I choose to eat

24: Backpacks or satchels? Backpacks

26: What was your favorite cartoon growing up? off the top of my head, Spongebob and Avatar: The Last Airbender

32: Do you pick at scabs? nah!

36: Have you ever eaten Ethiopian, Vietnamese, Korean, Nepalese food? Nope! like I said...too picky!

38: A relationship with love or one with sex? With love! Of course you ideally might want both and that’s what I have already but if I had to choose, I’d choose love. I can take care of myself for the other stuff lol!

40. Do you like horror movies? thrillers? I like thrillers but I have to be in a mood for them. I didn’t used to like horror movies but Chad loves them so I watch them for him.

46. Do you use a reusable water bottle? Yep! I have tons! I also have a zoo cup collection (souvenir cups from the zoo) I usually drink out of those and switch them out every now and then.

49. Can you walk well in high heels? I don’t wear heels often. At my weight they were too uncomfortable. I don’t might wedge heels though. they’re easier to balance and distribute weight. I betcha heels are way easier for skinny girls cuz they don’t weigh much lucky ducks!

[suarkl-blog]

Not so with President GHW Bush

"I knew it'd been too quiet around here," camp caretaker Ephram Magritte, 67, said between sips from his flask. "Things were just starting to get back to normal. Then that carload of kids had to go have a drinking party at the lake last Friday. During a stroll down the boardwalk, Christie was confronted by an individual who was, from what I can gather, a little irritated over the state's treatment of its teachers. After yelling something incomprehensible at the governor Christie claims the man swore in front of his children a heated exchange soon erupted Cheap Jerseys free shipping. Armed with an ice cream cone and an violatile temper, Christie went on the offense, yelling at the guy who was just trying to stand up for New Jersey's educators.

wholesale nfl jerseys from china East was marked by approbation and patriotism. Principal Kevin Shillingford choreographed a moving 90 minute presentation that featured students and local dignitaries. Red, white, and blue the school colors were everywhere. HM do bright, block colours and Gap ain't bad for an American boho look. We're still in the roll up sleeves camp, however but only to just below the elbow. Any higher is strictly for farmers and lumberjacks..  wholesale nfl jerseys from china

Cincinnati Bengals receiver Chad Ochocinco rode a bull during a Professional Bull Riders event this weekend in Duluth Cheap Jerseys from china, Minn. Really, shouldn Ochocinco ride an animal that better reflects his personality like maybe a jackass? The last word this week goes to NFL legend Mike Ditka, who was asked how he doing by the Denver Post. Replied 71 year old Iron Mike: had four hip replacements.

cheap jerseys Not so with President GHW Bush. He truly seemed like a man comfortable in his own skin, and comfortable with those he encounters, from all walks of life. Not, someone who is much impressed by who they are.. The picture is an original pencil drawing by Daniel Wesley, a talented artist is in his late teens, wholesale jerseys living in Kashechewan, a Cree Nation coastal community in lower James Bay where I facilitated community sessions in August 2014. I don let other people down however I more easily make excuses to let myself down. When I don have that commitment or external structure then it becomes harder to make it happen.  cheap jerseys

wholesale nfl jerseys Robert Gesnik (Ned/Rabobank) +4'22"8. Luis Leon Sanchez (Spa/Caisse d'Epargne) +4'41" 9. Joaquin Rodriguez Oliver (Spa/Katusha) +5'08" 10. WHERE The Royal Estate at the St Regis hotel hovers above the Pacific shores and boasts a 24 hour butler service and ensuite Jacuzzi, not to mention an indoor pool. Hollywood stars in search of a romantic getaway are assured total anonymity www.cheapjerseyschinatrade.com. Meals are brought to your door, or served under the stars for the hopelessly romantic..  wholesale nfl jerseys

wholesale nfl jerseys The Blast also is supporting Hope4Life, an international nonprofit organization founded by former player and current assistant coach David Bascome. The organization focuses on youth leadership development, and the Blast asks fans to donate new or used soccer balls and equipment (shinguards, socks, jerseys, shorts) at the game. All donations will be distributed to less fortunate children in Africa, Mexico and Guatemala..  wholesale nfl jerseys

Cheap Jerseys from china When an animal cannot take the torture anymore, he attacks the abusers www.cheapjerseyschina8.com. These abusers are then labeled victims and the poor animal is shot dead. The old, sick and weak animals who cannot perform anymore are sold off to people who too are looking for a fast buck.  Cheap Jerseys from china

Cheap Jerseys from china What a waste of time. I've been a journalist for 20 years, never learnt shorthand and never needed to. The NCTJ should be spending more time teaching students about the cutting edge technology used in modern media. The grey and white houses of Low Newton by the Sea came into view in the dip of a green bay. In the cool dark bar of the Ship Inn, I ordered a crab and salad stottie and got a monstrous granary wedge filled with crab and crunchy red peppers. I ate it outside, watching two fishermen in high boots and blue jerseys hauling their boat up on to the sands, a scene straight from a Victorian picture album..  Cheap Jerseys from china

cheap nfl jerseys It could have been the most depressing spot in the place, but to me it was an escape www.cheapjerseysfromchinasale.com. I made it cheery with a fancy shower curtain, organized and reorganized shelves of baskets of make up and toiletries. I already decided it would be a sunny spot no matter how much renovation it needed..  cheap nfl jerseys

wholesale jerseys from china These past 4 months have been absolutely fantastic and I can't wait to see what happens next.Trevor Black "13 seasons and counting"Jan. 14, 2016I grew up on my family farm outside of Flesherton, Ontario. I am the oldest of 6 kids (2 sisters, 3 brothers) and have a large extended family, to say the least.  wholesale jerseys from china

Cheap Jerseys free shipping Carson Palmer threw for over 300 yards while missing his two biggest weapons in Denarius Moore and Jacoby Ford. So on this day, it was Marcel Reece who decided to step up and lead the team with five receptions for 92 yards. I'm sure the Raiders will take this win any way they can, but I'm sure they don't want their fullback to be their leading receiver on a weekly basis..  Cheap Jerseys free shipping

Cheap Jerseys from china To understand the concept of NFL player salary, you first need to understand the term salary cap in the NFL. The salary cap is the amount of money an NFL team can spend on salaries for their players per year. The salary cap has progressively increased year by year since its inception back in 1994 Cheap Jerseys from china.