#badstarter

[wacoequipmentrepair]

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[atlasici-blog]

          atlas shuts his eyes for a second, before refocusing on the punching bag in front of him. his hair is sweaty, curls dangling in his face, as he balls up his fists and starts throwing punches again. his fists hurt, he’s been punching the damn thing for over an hour but he needs to get the anger out in a healthy way. he almost doesn’t notice that someone is sitting behind him, but that doesn’t stop him from punching. “what are you doin’ here?” 

[sikebentlix]

    typically, bentlix didn’t stay in gerret too long after he finished up his day at lawrence school. it wasn’t that he got scared once it got dark (not all the time, at least), but his father tended to get angry when he wasn’t able to keep tabs on his son. today was different. the boy wasn’t looking forward to going home -- not when he already had a busted lip and a bruise on his collarbone, which his jacket thankfully covered. so, he was headed to rico’s diner for a milkshake and some fries. his eyes were focused down towards the sidewalk, as they usually were, until he bumped into something. hard. and when he realized it was another person, his eyes grew wide and he held his hands up, already defending himself. ❝ sorry, shit... i wasn’t paying attention, that was my fault. are you alright? ❞

[ffstae-blog]

[ brewed awakening ]. tae can’t help but offer up, yet another, eye roll at the reappearance of gerret’s local coffee shop sign. it had been the third or so time the boy had come across the store since leaving the dance studio, and he couldn’t help but feel a prickle of annoyance each time he caught sight of the weak, pretentious wordplay. third time. so--- taejoon was definitely lost, then. “god, does this place have any signs outside of poorly formed puns under the guise of shop names?” he huffs out a sigh, running his fingers through his sweaty bangs. it wasn’t like tae didn’t know his way around gerret, per se, but the late hour and lack of light led him to taking a few wrong turns as soon as he left the studio earlier that night; landing him on an unfamiliar street in front of a shop he’d grown to strongly dislike in the past half hour.

[harlins-blog]

                    HE SPEAKS IN PARAGRAPHS. artfully chosen syllables fall together in just the right fashion, spitting themselves off his tongue as fast as he can possibly MANAGE without tripping over his tongue. between breathless sentences, the crowd around him c h e e r s & anyone could SWEAR that the tan male was high off the sound of raucous applause. an overly d r a m a t i c bow has the defined lines of his abdomen curving down, before he’s carrying himself off of the table on which he’s been perched for somewhere close to an hour. burnt eyes flash r u s s e t as he nods at familiar faces, flashes ( pretentious ! ) grins & overconfident winks, before allowing his spine to flatten against the cool expanse of a nearby wall.

                                              ❛ PRETTY GOOD, HUH ?                                        e v e r y o n e says i’m gonna lead                                     gerret into the revolution it NEEDS. --- ---                             those royal hijos de puta don’t have jack shit on me.  ❜

[atlasici-blog]

“look -- “ atlas pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, sighing into the chill of the night. “my rent is due in a week, and it’s final notice. if you want to buy some of my produce, you’re going to have to pay full price.”

[prsephonc]

as if trying to make everyone aware of her presence ( she was ) in the quaint little gerret diner, costas loudly slurped her chocolate milkshake. for something made in the desolate district, it was actually quite tasty.

[melodykleinn-blog]

Text / Open

Melody: damn it, wrong number maybe but is this Fay?