Tag yourself as an egg I’m scrambo

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@coltonxlasseter-blog
Tag yourself as an egg I’m scrambo
Hey staff, still keeping this blog thanks ✌️
Light me up a cigarette and put it in my mouth You’re the only one that wants me around And I can think of a thousand reasons why I don’t believe in you, I don’t believe in you and I
Light me up a cigarette and put it in my mouth You're the only one that wants me to die And I can think of a thousand reasons why
I am going to make it though this year if it kills me
I played video games in a drunken haze I was seventeen years young Hurt my knuckles punching the machines The taste of scotch rich on my tongue
Jessica covered her mouth with her hand, muffling the chuckle that escaped her lips, before she reached out and rubbed soothing circles over the spot that he’d bumped. “Why are you apologising?” She lowered her hand again and gave Colton a soft smile. “You okay?”
When she laughed, he was hurt, and glanced down childishly. So what if she was attempting to smooth over the spot. He patted his skull gingerly, sighing. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry. Weird day, y'know?"
"Let’s do nine. I’d like a bit more time to get ready."
"Sure thing. Nine it is. See you there?"
"That has to be nerve wracking, but I think you might be in the wrong field if the anxiety is more than the excitement." She tilted her head, trying to figure out what sort of assignment it could be. "I know what you mean, but tomorrow will come one day. It is best to get it over with."
He huffed. Elena was right, of course she was, but he didn't want reminding of it. "Oh come on, who actually likes work?" he griped.
my money's in copper // annie and colton
Annie shrugged in agreement with his assessment on cats. “I do! She’s nineteen—well actually, turning twenty next week. We’re fighting over what sort of party to throw,” she revealed with a small smile and a shake of the head. Her sister’s upcoming birthday was a source of contention between them at the moment, as it was every year, but Annie loved her sister and would probably eventually give in as she always did. She turned to look at the bartender a few feet away as Colton identified him by name. “Seems like you’re better with names than you think,” she replied, impressed that he remembered the name of the bartender, not even thinking about how many times he must have been here to learn it. At his tone she rolled her eyes. “Shut up,” she shot back, but without malice. “They’re not as bad as they sound, its just basically a big venue where they hold fancy parties or you go when you’re bored to play tennis and swim and socialize…” she trailed off realizing just how pretentious it sounded. “That sounded really bad didn’t it?”
"What sort of parties are there?" he asked, tipping his head to the side. Surely there were only three types: no alcohol, a little alcohol and lots of alcohol. Colton had never hosted a party before. Not since his sixth birthday, anyway, and that was only because his mom had wanted him to.
Colton smiled at her sheepishly. "You wouldn't be so impressed if you knew how often I came here," he said, though he tried to play it off as a joke. And besides, he thought to himself, it would almost be rude not to, especially as they had slept together.
Laughing at her comments, he smirked, "That sounded pretty fucking terrible. But I'll let you off. I'll bet you got a pony for your sixteenth." He had got socks.
"Yeah. I can do that. What time should we meet?"
"Say, eight thirty? Or would nine be better?" he suggested.
"Honestly, I don’t know either. I’m beginning to wonder if my sanity was ever clear to begin with." Pandora laughed.
Colton smiled slightly. "What you studying?"
*talking to myself as I wobble up the stairs* , you are sober and in control of the situation
"I’ve never heard of it…"
"Well, you'll have done more than heard of it by tonight. I could meet you on the Headrow and walk you there?"
She smiled. “I mean, I try. That’s worth something, right?”
"Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry."