"So,” Bradley began, yanking a bottle from behind the bar and ignoring the staff’s protests, “what should we toast to?”

Heat rushed through his body, the thin vest sporting a Guns N' Roses logo clinging to him with sweat, the bandana Harleen had previously tied around his arm to hide the offensive tattoo now tied around his head, mud streaked along the jaws of his face like a painted Savage from Lord of The Flies. The trip thus far had been a blur of sand, sea, sex, drugs, alcohol, and crying in the shower whilst Levi ate cheetos and half-heartedly tried to console him. Tonight was no different, his body fuelled by an influx of white lines and whiskey, a nervous adrenaline pulsing in his veins as he practically bounced with energy, his hand slinging the cup of whiskey he was holding at the nearest passer by, a mumbled ‘hand slipped’, as he brushed past, a lopsided smirk on his face.

Somehow, whenever Tessa began to feel a dim in the constant ebb and flow of an ecstasy driven euphoria, a drink from a passer-by, a handsome stranger, or a half-finished and probably spiked mineswept concoction seemed to find it’s way into Tessa’s hands. A bright laugh, technicoloured vibrancy, flitted from her lips as a sex on the beach made it’s way down her throat, her silver coated lips closing around the cherry decoration to give it a hearty suck, a side of her that had been caged ever since the Hampton’s trips finally coming out once more. “I feel limitless,” Tessa hummed, her lips pressing a soft kiss of glitter to the other’s cheek, hands clinging to the hem of her crop top to fan down her chest, before ripping the material clean over her head, the crimson material of her lace bra exposed as she tossed the crop top into the air, wishing Emilie were here to see the wild spark in her released. It truly was a scene of Girls Gone Wild, her hands pulling the pins from her hair, setting the loose curls free as she dug her hands into the pockets of her tennis skirt, releasing a cloud of silver glitter into the air.

*blank for title ideas* || Violet x Tyler

On his second day in Tijuana, Tyler thought he had hit rock bottom. He was wrong. The news he received struck him like a bomb, exploding the thin layer of ground he was standing on to make him fall even deeper. And climbing back up seemed like an impossible task. Instead, he just found a way to sink deeper and deeper. He came out of his room once, only to get some refills to last for a while. The place was an entire mess, and so was he. The curtains were closed, and the lights were shut, creating a quite gloomy ambience. But he didn’t care, it reflected his mind and his current state. If one was to walk in, they’d probably end up tripping over an empty bottle laying on the ground, and their face would land into what he’d prefer people to believe is dust. But it wasn’t. Dust wasn’t white. The light knock he heard on the door was what got him out of his slumber. But moving there was hard, painful. Tyler was able to push himself on his feet, leaning on the wall. But it only made him worse. His head was spinning, and he was feeling some pain in his chest, as if a hand was firmly grasping his heart. He wasn’t able to make it to the door. He just slumped back to the ground with a loud thud. “Just fucking walk in.” He groaned, his head shifting to see whoever was going to come inside.