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ROUND AND ROUND LIKE A HORSE ON CAROUSEL — mindlessly, farida found herself humming along to the last sneaked in song of the night. when she was working the closing shift, the last three songs would always be unauthorised if it was at all possible to play them and, well, most of the time melanie martinez because, in all seriousness, why would you call a carousel ‘cry baby’s carousel’ if you didn’t want someone to actually let it blast ‘cry baby’ at its unstimulated guests? brown eyes fixed on the ride itself, at times looking out for her favourite horse, seemingly perpetually ridden by an insufferable brat of a kid not even deserving of being at cotton cloud in the first place, just to keep herself occupied. round and round in nearly endless circles, a never ending routine, stuck in time until she pulled the switch to cut off its electricity for a night’s rest. stuck stuck stuck. now that was something she was beginning to relate to, wasn’t it?

with a softly swallowed sigh, she turned to the person that had just approached her booth, luckily quickly identified as a co-worker. perhaps she should have gotten herself assigned to another attraction when she had the chance but, the superb aesthetic aside, at least this one didn’t come with the unpleasant aftermath of stirred up stomaches most of the time. “are you here for a sneaky last ride among those crazies or to put me out of my misery?”

#cotton.start #i've had this saved up in my drafts just waiting for the right time to post it #& since i get home über late today the time has come!!#replies to this & everything else when i get home though hopefully :')#also no need to match it djfgnf my starters tend to get rambly to set the nonexistent Mood fjg i would lit take a one liner in response

[ imessage ] ;; OPEN

Thomas: my fridge has three eggs, a popsicle, and a half eaten carrot

Thomas: quick what can i make im fukin' starving

Farida: 1) crack those eggs into a pan, slice up the edible bits of the carrot & pop them in as well & have the popsicle for dessert

Farida: 2) drink the raw eggs like a real Man™, forget the rest

Farida: 3) make a dip out of the eggs and popsicle for the carrot and pretend you're having doritos

Farida: i think three might be the most pleasant with a good imagination

#( with: thomas )#( left on 'read' — texts )

TEXT ;「 ANYONE WILLING 」

sabiné: new phone who dis

sabiné: haha serious who is this though i got a new phone and my contacts transferred weird

farida: oh god as long as my number didn't get switched w some fuckboy's

farida: i'm that foreign looking girl who took you out for tequila last week

#( with: sabine )#( left on 'read' — texts )#when u wanna speak in riddles so much u gotta call urself 'foreign looking' go to sleep fari

text || open !

lukas: hi i have a v important question

lukas: what was ur first impression of me

lukas: asking for a friend

farida: honestly?? u sure u wanna know??

farida: an odd cross between a clumsy puppy & a wounded bird who kinda wants you to think he's a big mean eagle tho?? ig??

farida: is this a study meant to improve ur appeal or sth

#( with: lukas )#( left on 'read' — texts )#i'm too big of a ho for texts ;-;

monrocs:

‘ think i might have to change my title from rhys monroe; bartender to rhys monroe; swinger magnet. this older couple, probably like ── i dunno, late thirties, early forties, and mind you have no fucking idea where they dropped their kid off or if they even had a kid. my money is on no kid considering i’m pretty sure they were trying to pick me up. that is until the wife completely lost her shit and vomited all over the bar. i mean they didn’t stop trying to take me home but i have to say that was not the kind of fluid i was looking forward to wiping off of her face. ’

“yikes,” farida’s frown spoke volumes, her imagination too vivid for this recollection of events to not spark utter disgust. “drunk people in their mid life crisis are the worst, it’s official. plus if you actually get down and gritty with them, it’s a total 50/50 hit or miss situation. some of the guys are such disasters you’d think they were virgins if you hadn’t met their three kids once upon a time.” she rolled her eyes. “words of wisdom of the day: don’t take the risk unless you’re sure they can deliver and won’t fucking puke on you.”

#( with: rhys )#( social skills of a hermit — interactions )

hudscnhq:

HEAVY BASS MUSIC rang loud in aching ears as a thick amberliquid passed between thinly parted lips. A familiar warm and slow burn filledhis broad chest, fingers tightening their grip on the cool sleek bar to stabilizewobbly knees. How many shots had passed between his lips in a smooth motionthat night? “T-two..three..f-four..” he counted on his long thin fingers, hisvoice unsteady as he mumbled quietly to himself. Too many. It was strictly against the rules to drinkany alcohol while on a shift at the amusement park, but much like many of the rulesin Hudson’s life – it was unfollowed. Beyond that, deliberately disobeyed. Butthe customers were so intolerable, and the alcohol, well it wasn’t exactlylocked up. Plus, there were so many bottles in stock, who would notice if a fewshots worth were missing? If the owner cared so much about their liquor theywouldn’t have left the new guy to close down the place right? Right.

A familiar yet nerve racking ‘click’ sounded off in thedistance, it was meant to notify employees working behind the bar that they hada customer approaching. For Hudson however, it was an alarm warning him that someonemight catch him. His chest lurched a little at the unexpected visitor; his headwas foggy as he hurriedly attempted to discard the miniature glass. Hesucceeded only in knocking it over, the remnants of the bitter alcohol poolingout onto the bar’s smooth surface. He just managed to grip the small shotglass, his hands large enough to conceal the glass in his fist. He turned hisbank to the approaching customer in hopes they would not notice his inebriatedstate. “We’re closed..” He slurred, “Or..or about to be so you – you shouldprobably just get outta here..”

Too many nights after she had just managed to chase the last nagging kids and indiscreet teens away, she’d find herself in one of the closest establishments serving liquid courage, feeling relief as soon as slender fingers wrapped around the cool surface of a filled glass. It was about to become a habit. Potentially. Against all remnants of wisdom. But, then again, people like her didn’t get conquered by nasty habits and allow them to rule over them. No, casual drinking was for the wicked, the brim of addiction was for the weak.

Nonetheless, here she was again, en route to a bar. More of than not, Farida would leave the premises and find a decent place in the city before going home, an unnecessary hassle that presumably kept her drinking in check after all, but tonight there was no time for that. Just one little shot of vodka and she’d be on her way — or so she had hoped. Brown eyes darted to the stained bar top before locking on an all too evidently heavily intoxicated bar tender — much drunker than she ever got on a night like this, luckily. “Oh, are you?” Head tilted sidewards, arms crossed, glare bitter. “Why, are you closing early so that you can tend to your alcoholism in the privacy of what should be your work place or have you changed your opening hours?”

#( with: hudson )#( social skills of a hermit — interactions )#plot twist; they rly should have closed ten mins ago & she's just the biggest bitch?? find out next week on farida vs the male gender

lyrakim:

Lyra paused to consider her words before nodding slowly. “Well, maybe … But I just don’t like to be constrained, so call it what you will.” She grinned as Farida vented about her current situation, although that quickly morphed into a mildly disgusted face when the kale smoothie was mentioned. “Do people actually drink those? Just … why?” When you grew up eating according to a so called healthy diet, the moment you tasted real food you were never going to be able to go back. That’s the way Lyra felt, anyway. Nowadays, the only vegetables she touched were potatoes, tomatoes and lettuce “At least if your swear at them in arabic they probably wouldn’t realize,” she tried to console her friend. “Let’s go for a milkshake, just to give you a spot of hope for surviving until you’re done.”

Lyra’s finishing statement was met with silent approval until she could no longer contain her emotions regarding kale smoothies either — a completely and utterly vile invention of mankind. “Apparently they still do — and the über crazy wannabe Gwyneth Paltrow moms even give them to their preschoolers by the looks of it. I thought everyone had long since grown out of their kale phase. Remember when there was basically kale merch? Just plain shirts with the word printed on that would sell super overpriced at Urban Outfitters or something? Felt a bit like living a nightmare,” Farida scoffed, features soon lightening up, however, at the thought of actually unleashing her vocabulary of arabic curse. “Well, that would be an interesting little experiment. How long can I curse at them in arabic before some racist calls me out?” Laughter, for she was hardly even fazed by the possibility. “Maybe I’ll try that if the milkshake doesn’t put me into a better mood but I’m very optimistic about that endeavour. My treat since you had the fabulous idea already.”

#( with: lyra )#( social skills of a hermit — interactions )#racism tw #kinda sorta ig?? better be safe

— ≫ SENT TO boy who's okay drunk.

Gabe: I have extended the peanut pun

Gabe: Two peanuts walk into a bar

Gabe: One was a salted

Gabe: During the altercation, the assailant said

Gabe: "CashEW me ousside how bow dah"

Gabe: Anyway! There are so many memes these days, which one do you think is the zeitgeist?

Farida: Wait, was I drunk enough to give you my number?

Farida: And didn't you already tell me that pun then?

Farida: idk the only meme I can still tolerate is the possum that screams at its butt? because that's a Big Mood

#( with: gabe )#( left on 'read' — texts )

bunchofrpmemes

Character Flaws

faridamos-blog

bunchofrpmemes:

bold the ones that apply to your character:

#( uniquely thundering — about a girl )

guess who lowkey fell asleep ever so slightly during her reading & then got a migraine lmao bYe but TODAY shall be THE DAY i actually return to the dash (& ims, urgently dsjknfg) after uni

#cotton.ooc #i actually slept at least so it's lookin good so far b l e s s

#cotton.ooc #i'm the weakest human being alive icb

traptacular-deactivated20180125

#( uniquely ravishing — musings )#i wish that was me ok i'm up for uni & i'll prob die jfdgnf

lukas-garcia:

( closed. )

lukas struggled to grasp the keys as he tried to unlock the apartment, arms completely covered in bagged groceries. only losers take multiple trips from the car to the kitchen, lukas was a MAN. he finally succeeded after the fifth time, mentally fist pumping himself as he pushed the door open with his shoulder. a sweet sigh of relief came over him as the familiar scent of home and plug-in air fresheners hit him like a wave.

“im home, i’m home, i’m home, i’m home!” lukas sang, practically throwing the groceries onto the kitchen table. “ida!” he yelled out, kicking his shoes off in the direction of the door. “i got food so we aren’t going to starve to death!” his first order of business, instead of being useful and helping put the groceries away, was to take off his shirt and lay down on the couch. he figured he deserved this break for actually making the trip out to the store, even if it was his turn.

@faridamos

ever so distantly, she seemed to have heard an odd reoccurring rattling sound from outside the apartment despite the soft music in her room serving as a more pleasant alternative to white noise as she sat on her bed doing... nothing in particular, really, but still enough to not jump up and open the front door. instead, she languidly slipped out of her living quarters once a fraction of her name had been called, no, yelled through the kitchen, arms automatically crossing in front of her chest as she drifted down the hallway.

“nice one.” that much she had to note. encouragement for further, perhaps, voluntary shopping ventures. lips pursed, farida inspected the untouched bags from a distance before her gaze settled on lukas, only half displeased thus far. “so did you get what i asked for? the holy trinity?” a last minute request of hers that would determine whether she was willing to take care of the bags all on her own or not. smooth peanut butter (only a name brand would do), cherry blossom scented hand soap and gobstoppers in case of a candy emergency.

#( with: lukas )#( social skills of a hermit — interactions )#'lukas was a MAN.' d a y u m #ily that is all goodnight

lyrakim:

“Well, technically they didn’t say I couldn’t?” Lyra’s mouth stretched into an exaggerated sort of smile. Try to be careful meant that she could still do these sort of things, right? Even if it wasn’t, Lyra still chose to think that way and would continue, at least until she was explicitly told otherwise. “I’m not a rebel … I don’t think I am,” she paused for a second before shrugging. “Thank you, I guess? You done with work?”

dark painted lips curled up into an approving grin. “i see. very clever,” farida noted, “you know what kind of person would happily go down the ‘technically’ route to justify their doings? oh, i don’t know, a rebel, maybe? welcome to the club,” chuckling, she ran her fingers through her unruly curls, temporarily pinning them back as she shook her head. “i wish. i’m taking a break to stuff myself with some overpriced fast food before i lose my temper around one of those extra spoiled kids. i’m just waiting for another five-year-old to ask if they can take their kale smoothie with them on the ride before i burn this place to the ground.”

#( with: lyra )#( social skills of a hermit — interactions )

cshcrs:

“for real?” asher’s mouth drops slightly and eyes go wide. listen, not in a million years winnie’s hot dog cart and more, serve bad food for the customers. well, that was a half lie, if he truly thought about it. the food wasn’t healthy, probably would give you a heart attack in the future, but the food wasn’t rotten, that much he knew. however, asher also knew the woman had it out for him, for reasons he clearly didn’t even begin to suspect, and if his employer ever caught wind that asher did something to get the cart suspended? well, let’s just say things wouldn’t look good for him. “right. fries. coming up. what size of serving?”

silence eerily accompanied a cold stare of the kind that could leave you believing she had never been more serious in her entire existence — until she suddenly snapped out of it, that was. “nah, i still lack the authority to do that and i’m far too hungry today to actually potentially ruin someone’s employment.” a nonchalant shrug, head tilting to the left. “sooo— i guess i’ll go with a large one even though i might regret that later,” farida decides, head now tilting to the right. “what kind of ketchup do you serve with that? name brand or rip-off?”

#( with: asher )#( social skills of a hermit — interactions )#i'm already in TEARS #'relax i'm not here to kill you. Yet.' — farida moslehi 2k17

rcnis

“i’m good at a lot of things,” roni’s voice mused, “but it probably helps to have daily access to the game,” she laughed nodding into the open arcade. she’d be lying if she said it didn’t take her weeks upon weeks of practice to finally even make it on the leaderboard, but she wasn’t going to tell anybody that. “you’ll be fine, just ‘be one with the ball’” roni’s voice teasing as she popped in another coin and handed the ball to the girl, “it’s not or never,” her eyebrow raised challengingly.

“well, that’s probably a fair point but i’m also a big believer in talent?” farida chuckled, shrugging. one could say she had her fair share of talents, surely not less than the great majority of people, but there had always been things she had longed to succeed in yet she never seemed to make an progress. drawing, for example. how many sketching classes had she taken back in nyc? too many for her skills to still be on the same level she had reached at thirteen. but she was drifting off. taking the ball from the blonde, she shot her a glance oozing faux confidence. “alright, no pressure at all, right?” she laughed, focussing on the ramp in front of her. “i’ll just be one with the ball and pin the blame on you if that doesn’t help.” a sarcastic sneer prior to a deep breath before the ball descended downwards, making its way towards the ring — and, surprisingly enough, scoring a twenty for a change. turning back to roni, farida raised her brows in apparent surprise. “getting there, i guess? are you sure you’re not a witch or something because i swear i’ve never even hit a twenty on this one before.”

#( with: roni )#( social skills of a hermit — interactions )#idk how this got kinda minimally lengthy?! ignore all the rambling pls jfkng

rcnis

eyes focused on the long track in front of her roni stood up straight before letting out a deep breath. the blinking lights of the skee ball game almost felt like they were taunting her. “—hold up, i have one shot left,” she mumbled to the rustling she heard behind her, with a easy step forward she swooped her hand sending the ball forward rolling up and landing smack dab in the highest point hole. “and like that my undefeated high score remains in tact,” her voice was triumph as she turned around.

“—wait. you’re that good?” farida’s brows had perked up in surprise as her gaze fixed on the blonde’s victorious expression. granted, she had established a fair share of iconic high scores before — not to mention she was still tempted to dare people to try and beat her in some of her best songs on the ps2 singstar franchise — but skee ball? definitely not high score territory for her. “way too intimidate me even more, thank you very much. i’ll consider myself lucky if i even manage to hit the 10 with half of my shots,” she joked... or, well, she seemed to joke despite not being very far from dead serious.

#( with: roni )#( social skills of a hermit — interactions )

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