shaveitup:

dead-mow-five:

lilskrill:

dead-mow-five:

lilskrill:

motherfuckindanger:

dead-mow-five:

motherfuckindanger:

dead-mow-five:

lilskrill:

motherfuckindanger:

lilskrill:

dead-mow-five:

dead-mow-five:

lilskrill:

After having Anton snatched away from him by Porter, he shrugged it off, sitting next to Joel.

“Joel, hey. Hey, Joel!” He pestered, prodding at his arm before taking a sip of his drink. He started to hum a little and found himself humming a small disney tune.

That wasn’t surprising either. “Had enough to drink there, buddy?” He could start to feel himself getting a little pink in the face from the alcohol, but Sonny sounded like he was getting flat out wasted. Wait… Leoj?

“Yeah, alright. Then if I’m cool; you’re hilarious…” Two things that will never be true in a million years.

“Plenty! But there’s more to come! And… And what was that, Joel? You called me funny? More drink! We shall celebrate,” Sonny yelled, getting up to go and get another drink, when he noticed a familiar face walk through the door.

“FRANCK!”

Franck’s head jerked in Sonny’s direction, “Oh heyyyyy…. uh…”
He couldn’t remember the kid’s name… fuck. 

Sonny heard Joel shout his name and grabbed his drink quickly while scurrying back, of course, dragging Franck with him.

“Joel! This is Franck! Franck, Joel!” 

He was introducing a lot of people to well, a lot of people tonight.

Shouting over the music so he could be heard, he asked, “Dude, why do I know your face?”. Joel couldn’t care less about pleasantries after whatever was in his cup, but you know. It was probably nothing, but he asked anyway. 

“Uhm… what?” Franck asked, confused.

“you’re retarded.” Danger grumbled, taking control of Franck, “let me take care of this…”

“I dunno, man. I could just be getting a little drunk; forget it. Nice to meet you n’ junk.” He gave him his best closed-eyed shrug and went back to staring at people dancing.

Social retardation at it’s best.

“Right…” He sighed and turned back to sonny, “So where are the drinks? I wanna get hammered too…” He practically lost his accent, his voice seeming much more smooth and confident.

“O-Over there!” Sonny stuttered, “I’m sure you’ll be able to grab something,” he slurred, his lisp slipping through ever so slightly. Sonny had been too busy consuming the drink he had on him that by now, he was pretty much ‘away with the fairies’.

“I need to go and sit down. I need to see Jon, too…”

Joel nodded, letting Sonny and the French guy go off and do their own thing. He might even go get another drink.

Sonny felt a little bad on just leaving Joel, so decided to call people over.

“Jon! Anton! Portah! Get over here!”

He smiled, waving at them and taking another drink.

Joel stood up and began to walk off. “I’ll be back. I need another—”, shit, what was the word? “…drink. Whatever.” He made his way over to the bar to grab something.

Anton stood up and followed the crowd, he felt a little lost but he decided to shrug it off. He decided he did want to try a jello shot, like Jon had suggested.

One, two, three, four, they went down so easily, even if the taste was a little off. Anton’s head spun a little, and he already saw Sonny asleep in the corner, Anton started to laugh. That alcohol had gone straight to his head.

Porter sighed and decided, what the hell, and down went about four jello shots, the burning sensation familiar and comforting in his throat.

Now I sound like an alcoholic. Great.

He smiled, “Do you have jello shots in Germany?” He hoped it wasn’t an offending question to ask Anton.