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astrowrld

why don't you get a grip?
68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f746371574578487a39686b4951513d3d2d3634313839373936322e313536396135356163303565393432313733373239363733383435342e676966


hey mister preacher man
can you
help me get away from this life of sin?
i'm ashamed of the dark places i have been
fix my soul so i don't lose a love again

closed 1x1 between astrowrld astrowrld and cadence cadence
 
[div class=container] [div class=hold][div class=img][/div] [div class=name]@presleyl [div class=smaller][div class=overflow style="padding-right: 20px"]location: the pool | outfit: x
interactions: cory wagner [/div][/div][/div] [div class=follow]follow[/div][/div] [div class=center][div class=moodboard] [div class=aesthe style="background-size: 200%"][/div] / / [div class=aesthe style="background-image: url(https://i.pinimg.com/236x/99/e1/33/99e1333ae3506694a1f1d037df99ee56.jpg)"][/div] / / [div class=aesthe style="background-image: url(https://i.pinimg.com/236x/9a/c3/f3/9ac3f3ce008ba7abf5b6ff6d5b63f2e3.jpg)"][/div]
[div class=aesthe style="background-image: url(https://i.pinimg.com/236x/ae/96/4b/ae964b5634d8451b052b265632e1ca26.jpg)"][/div] / / [div class=aesthe style="background-image: url(https://i.pinimg.com/236x/ee/57/a8/ee57a8dcd27534d3ea1a35da39b82104.jpg)"][/div] / / [div class=aesthe style="background-image: url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/3a/08/ef/3a08ef8def7c9ab1092fad692c6e230a.jpg)"][/div] [/div] [div class=text][div class=overflow] "Let's go, Lions!" Bradley Shoda screamed, standing at the very edge of the swimming pool before tearing his shirt over his head to reveal his chest still painted half painted gold with a fading letter "O" from the game the night before. He let out a series of shouts, pumping his fist in the air before canon-balling into the pool, sending a splash large enough to soak anyone unfortunate enough to be standing near him. Resurfacing, he shouted again, gold paint coloring the water around him. Presley couldn't help but laugh, rolling his eyes at the display.

He must have been distracted by Brad's antics or, more rather, gorgeous abs, because Tiffany had to tug on his sleeve to get his attention. "Enjoying the view?" she taunted, raising a knowing brow. Smirking at Presley, who looked so guilty for being caught staring at the Bradley Shoda, Tiffany grabbed his hand, placing a ping pong ball in his palm. "You're on," she spoke, deciding to do the friendly thing and not taunt him further. "And please win. I can't take this much longer." She slapped his shoulder twice before stumbling to the side, giving him room to play.

Their game of beer pong had lasted much longer than anyone cared to admit. At this point, everyone was at least tipsy. Most everyone was drunk-- far too drunk to think straight, much less be able to aim at a tiny plastic cup. Presley stood at the end of the table blinking a few times to clear his head. The room was spinning slightly and his vision was blurry so he had to squint to see properly, kneeling down just slightly so he was at the same level as the cup. There was just one left. Both balls in and they would win and finally, finally they could end the game that had already gone on too long. He took a deep breath, making a show of putting all of his effort into his toss.

The doink of the ball falling into the cup of cheap on-sale beer signaled that he had made the ball in. To say his team went crazy was an understatement. A party with the entire cheerleading team did kind of guarantee a lot of noise. He lifted both of his arms in the air when he made it in, whooping just as loudly and excitedly as Brad had just minutes before when he jumped into the pool. His teammates cheered with him, wrapping their arms around him and slapping his back and shoulders and someone even slapping his butt. Even the other team cheered. Drinking was supposed to be a punishment for losing but they picked up the remaining cup, plucked out the ball, and drank it down in one go without a care in the world.

Presley laughed when his teammates finally released him, waving a dismissive hand as they all began to scatter their different ways. Only Tiffany stayed behind with him the same joyous smile on her lips. Jessica Scnider truly did throw the best parties. She held them once a month at least, always after a big game. The music seemed to grow louder after everyone scattered, the bass pounding through the walls to the point he could feel it in his chest. He had to strain to hear Tiffany when she spoke, saying she was going to find her boyfriend.

For a good minute after she left, he just stood there, listening to the music and dancing along with some others nearby. The room was still spinning and he laughed about it, finding it funny how he always felt just better when he was drunk. The train of thought led him to the kitchen to get himself yet another or drink. Or two. Parties were always better with two drinks in hand.

He slurred the words to the song booming from the speakers as he grabbed two beers from the cooler, cracking them open and pouring them into his two separate cups. He didn't quite fancy the taste of beer but he was used to it at this point. He scooped up both of his cups, still singing along to the song as he turned around. He hesitated when he did, looking around to find someone to hang out with. He wanted to find Tiffany but when he found her, she was getting hot and heavy with her boyfriend on the couch and Presley made the executive decision not to interrupt. He wanted to find Kara, or Jessica, or really any of his teammates, but they were all lost in the sea of party guests. He was just about to dance on his own before he spotted Cory Wagner more or less alone to the side.

Without a moment of hesitation, he stumbled over to him, leaning just inches away from him as if they were close friends, not people who had never actually spoken to one another before. "Why aren't you dancing?" He asked, a stupid grin making its way onto his face. He practically his face in the other's as he waited for an answer. His voice was sing-songy and incredulous, as if he really couldn't understand why Cory Wagner wasn't dancing. The party was practically for him, being one of the best Colorado Lions.

His breath reeked of alcohol and he had clearly already had enough to drink but he paid no mind, putting one of his two drinks to his lips and taking a long, slow sip. Mid-drink, he gasped as a sudden idea came to mind, pulling his drink from his mouth so fast that some of it splashed onto the floor. He must've because he continued to talk. "I think..." He stopped mid-sentence when he forgot what he was going to say. When it dawned on him, he put his drink in Cory's hand and threw his arm over his shoulder, guiding him closer to the center of the room without waiting for an answer or a protest. "I think you should dance with me."
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