we're not kids anymore.
Cosmic Funnies
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Kaledo Art
wallacepolsom
blake kathryn
official daine visual archive
cherry valley forever
Mike Driver
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trying on a metaphor
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Janaina Medeiros
RMH
Origami Around
almost home
🪼
oozey mess
Love Begins
JVL
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@craig-heffernan
Sometimes when I’ve had really bad hair days, I think about just cutting off all my hair and pulling a Britney. I feel like my life would be easier that way.
"Another compelling topic for speculation from Ms. Vanderbilt," Craig slurred through his accent in a low tone, grimacing at the girl. He noticed that her bad hair day was the equivalent of one thousand other girls' Best Hair Day of March.
"I didn’t really take you for the sharing type," she muttered under her breath. She fussed with her hair, feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable. His invitation was unexpected to say the least. She had half expected his to tell her to fuck off not invite her over for a drink. "Wait you actually want to hang out with me?" she questioned giving him a hard stare.
Craig crossed his arms over his chest, bothered by her mistake of addressing the situation's abnormality. His muscles flexed. "No, of course I didn't offer you to come drink my whiskey in my room because I want to hang out with you," he said, his voice plain as his eyes wandered somewhere off to the left. A moment of silence passed between them. In a quieter tone Craig grumbled as pleasantly as he could, "Christ, just... come on," and shoved his hands down into his pockets while he continued walking past her.
Savannah was having the week from hell and the attitude from the boy standing in front of her was only making things worse. She took several deep breathes to try and calm herself down, not wanting to freak out. Somehow whenever the two interacted with each other tempers always flared and she refused to be the one to break first. “It’s been a couple months okay? It’s not like there’s every a shortage in my house.”
"Whatever," Craig mumbled dismissively, dropping the subject. He'd taken the hint. Besides, he didn't really want to bicker with her again tonight. "I've got a bottle of Jack in my room, if you want. If you could stand bein' alone with me for much longer." As he heard his own voice narrate the invitation for her, Craig began to wonder if he could stand to be alone with her; But he didn't recall it.
"Don’t remind me about graduation, please." She rolled her eyes at his attitude, not even wanting to deal with it. "I have two problems, one I’m out of tequila and two, I don’t know what else to drink."
Craig recognized the familiar note of irritation resonating in his eardrums as he listened to her. Almost like clockwork, the slender blonde had elevated his blood pressure within only thirty odd seconds of conversation. Ironically, the wonder of this consistency threatened to distract Craig from his annoyance. "When was the last time you walked inside a liquor store?" he asked, imagining a shopfront from the 1950's.
"I need a bottle first," she pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You're about to graduate university, you've been here doin' this four fuckin' years," he countered her with skepticism. "You don't have your own sustainable liquor supply by now?"
Today has been the definition of never ending. Someone pour me a drink ASAP.
"I think you might find it more fulfilling to drink straight from the bottle," Craig suggested with a mocking undertone.
Can today be Christmas Day then tomorrow New Years? Then the day after we come back to Brookline. I’m bored and there’s only so much drinking a guy can do.
"I'd very much like for it to be Christmas break forever."
I offered, didn’t I?
I'll have a drink, yeah.
You’re fucked. Want a drink?
"You buyin'?"
What about dad? Lost his feet to the noble war, and in the summer, he’s always in net for soccer, ‘cause he can’t move around so good?
"Dad was the one who flipped the switch on the garbage disposal."
Shit. Do you just pretend not to notice the shitty wrapping on the store bought ones or something?
"She has her holiday hands. They come with special attachments made specifically for gift wrapping. It's pretty much the only thing that she can do."
Not going home for the holidays? Bet mum’s already got your sweater with a big ‘C’ knitted up on it for you.
"Mum lost both her hands to a garbage disposal a few years back--tragically--and the prosthetics won't grip her knitting needles. Sweaters are a sore subject around my house."
Probably the only thing of yours I’ll ever fuckin’ blow. Some food for thought, or whatever.
"Already forgot about it."
They look like shit. Every colour wherever the fuck it wants to be. It’s an OCD style nightmare.
"You are blowing my fuckin' mind."
And behind the curtain, there isn’t a wizard, but a bunch of fuckin’ sticky notes.
"Tell me they're color-coordinated."
Yeah, let me make a memo to deck the halls or something.
"You're pretty reliant on memos. I thought you make it all up as you go along."
Whoop-de-fuckin’-doo.
"You should be fuckin' rejoicing. I'm your only customer for the next seven days."
