interesting cocktails

anonymous asked:

How do you think the chocobros would react if their s/o was being flirted with by a complete stranger, yet they were 100% oblivious to it? Just a thought 😄

I don’t know why, but I’m such a sucker for jealousy.

I know, I know… it’s not healthy, it’s not always a sign of a good relationship, and it can be totally destructive and dangerous -

But come on, how can you not love the fact that seeing somebody else with the person you love sparks a little flame ablaze inside of you?

It’s a sign you care 😌

Song: “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” by Tame Impala

Noctis would experience a slight bit of triggering at the sight of his s/o being flirted with. I mean, I wouldn’t say he’s possessive exactly… but he’s possesive? It’s simply the fact that he holds the few people he’s close to very dear to his heart, willing to sacrifice anything and everything for them, therefore the fear that somebody would compromise that is always present in the pit of his stomach. He is ready on a dime to go to lengths to protect his loved ones. Given this, when he realizes the one way flirting situation he’ll most likely step in and unintentionally say something awkward and obvious to paint the stranger a clear picture, perhaps along the embarassing lines of “your boyfriend is back to save the day” while sliding beside them, a tight lipped grin upon his face as he glares at the stranger. Seeing the person grow uncomfortable and leave, his s/o would erupt into laughter and shake their head, because the fact that Noctis could flawlessly and elegantly take down a physical opponent with one swoop of his sword, but couldn’t do the same in conversation without sounding like a dork was nothing less than hilarious.

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thetourguidebarbie  asked:

kc canon-ish + sure they're "just friends then" and she wasn't q u i t e ready for him to show her the world (yet), but she was hungry and that girl that she saw get a bit too handsey with klaus at the bar looked delicious okay??

okay, this turned out wayy longer than planned. almost 4k for something that was supposed to be around 1k. eh. bonnie and caroline friendship! post 5x11. no babies. actually includes some plot. smut, so nsfw.

ff. ao3.

Caroline hadn’t planned on coming to New Orleans after she’d left Mystic Falls. Not for a very long time, at the very least. She knew she would eventually. Knew she’d seek him out, but she wanted a few decades, if not more, to roam the world first. She wanted to figure out who she was.

However, she’d barely had time to enjoy all New York had to offer, when Bonnie had appeared, with wild hair and bright eyes, as she’d been roaming around the streets.

The witch had almost startled her, which was… weird, to say the least.

“Bonnie,” she’d exclaimed, before her lips curled upwards, a grin splitting her face. “What are you-”

“Are you busy?” Bonnie had cut in.


“I’m headed to New Orleans,” Bonnie had told her, “and I was hoping that my partner in crime would want to follow me.”

“New Orleans?” She’d raised an eyebrow, her voice raising slightly. “What the hell are you doing there?”

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Cocktails for people who really dislike alcohol

I’ve found that pretty much any liquor is tolerable when mixed with enough sprite or lemonade. I hosted a party last night and made these drinks and everyone, including my friends who hate the taste of alcohol, really liked these. I have no idea whether any of these drinks have other names or already exist or whatever but I came up with these combinations on the fly and just picked names that sounded interesting. You need a cocktail shaker, ice, a jigger, lemons, limes, sprite, lemonade, large grain sugar like turbinado, and assorted liquor.

Fleur de Lis
Mix 1 cup of lemonade, 1.5oz of Chambord raspberry liqueur, 1oz of vodka, and 0.5oz of simple syrup in a shaker with ice. Rim a tall glass with turbinado sugar, pour over ice and garnish with a slice of lemon.

Blue Spruce
Mix 1oz of Bombay sapphire gin, 0.5oz pine syrup (, and 0.5oz blue Hpnotiq with about 1 cup of sprite in a short tumbler over ice. Optional: garnish with washed pine needles

Fiji Blue (this was super popular)
Mix 1oz of blue Hpnotiq, 1oz of blue curaçao, and 1 cup of sprite in a short tumbler with ice. Rim glass with turbinado sugar and garnish with a slice of lime.

Raspberry Orange Twist
Mix 1.5oz Chambord raspberry liqueur, 1oz cointreau, 1oz lime juice, and 1 cup of sprite in a tall glass. Garnish with a twist of lemon peel.

Lilac Spritzer
Mix 1.5oz of blue Hpnotiq, 0.5oz of grenadine, and 1 cup of sparkling water in a short glass rimmed with sugar.

I’ll make these tonight with photos because some of them are really pretty.



- 2 oz UV Blue
- 1oz Lemonade
- 1oz Lemon Lime soda
- Splash of Blue Curaçao
- Garnish with slice of lemon (Logo on shoulders of the characters)

I chose vodka for the modernity of the Blu team.
Taste: Sweet and lemony 

- ½ oz Grenadine
- 1 ½ oz Fireball
- 4 oz Apple juice
- Garnish with slice of orange (bloody orange if you want to be awesome also for logo on shoulders of the characters) 

I chose whiskey for the more oldy side of the Red team.
Taste: Soft but spicy and sweet

Re-Reading 3B: Derek and Stiles, part 5


Today’s post looks at Derek and Stiles in DeVoid. I’m just gonna give up on predicting how many more posts there are going to be in this meta. Maybe just two. Maybe two million. Who the fuck knows. OMG.

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Mark Scenario - First Time Sunshine - Smut-Ish

Scenario Masterlist

Anonymous said:

Can you please do a mark scenario is which it’s the day after you lose your virginity to him ,plz try to make fluffy and smutty . I LOVE YOUR BLOG💕💕💕

A/N: Didn’t do all the way smut for this one so if you would prefer that, I would be more than happy to write an extension including that! And thanks for the love, lovely!

You began to wake up, slowly, letting the memories from last night slowly fall into place. You remembered how just that previous night, you’d had sex for the very first time with your boyfriend, Mark. Maybe you’d been a late bloomer, considering you were already in your early twenties. Last night had made you question why you’d waited so long. It’d still be awkward and a little painful, but it had also been good. You were happy.
When you opened your eyes, your room was bright with the sunlight that filtered through the haze in the sky. You could see Mark sprawled out on the other side of the bed, laying on his back and his platinum hair flopped on the pillow. He was still asleep.
But as if he could feel your eyes on him, he started waking up, his eyes fluttering open. Once he saw you looking at him, he gave a sleepy smile.
“’Morning,” He said stretching without making any moves to get out of the bed.
“Good morning,” you replied with a big smile.
“You doing ok?” He asked, rubbing his eyes as he went through the remaining process of waking up. “No pain?”
“No, don’t think so.” You said smiling. He returned it, reaching out a hand to cup your cheek.
“Surely you don’t want to go again so soon?” He said chuckling. You shot him a flirty look, rolling your shoulders.
“Maybe, I’m not sure I’m in the mood right now.” You said, teasing him.
“Oh? But you could get in the mood?” He said, reading between the lines, an almost goofy grin spreading over his face.
“Possibly, if you want to, too, that is.” You said and he laughed.
“I’m not that hard to convince, love.” He said wrapping his arms around you.
“I was betting on that.” You said, giggling as his fingers danced lightly over the exposed skin of your legs and arms, occasionally slipping under the edge of the shirt you were wearing.
“That’s just see where things lead.” He whispered leaning in. He kissed you tenderly, a smile on his face. Electricity flowed through your body, your nerves coming alive from his touch. A cocktail of interest, elation and anticipation swirled in your stomach. While you were only in panties and a t-shirt, he was in briefs and a pair of thin sweats.
While the kisses and sensations and actions from the night before had been intimate, tender, the morning’s were playful. Both you kissed each other with smiles on your faces. You tangled your fingers in his hair with your arms around his neck while he shifted his body, getting on top of you and between your legs. You hooked your legs around his waist, his skin warm against yours.
“I wonder if I flipped the switch last night, you seem particularly into it today.” Mark said, chuckling to himself between peppering kisses. You rolled your eyes, letting your fingers explore the muscles of his chest and abs, moving over every curve.
“Hormones are crazy things.” You replied. You felt him smirk against your lips, deepening your kiss. He moved his hands, slowly kneading your breasts through your shirt, moving his thumb over your nipple. You moaned, arching your back. You’d had a taste of it and in that moment, you just wanted more. Slowly, you grinded against him, making him groan much like you were.
You were thankful that he didn’t have any schedules for the day, a short break for Got7 before they kicked off another part of their tour where you wouldn’t see him for weeks.
“Mark…” You whined, wanting more than just light foreplay. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.
“Oh, getting a little horny huh?” He commented, pulling back so he could look at you with a smirk on his face. Again, you rolled your eyes.
“Maybe,” You finally conceded, earning another laugh from him.
“Do you really want it?” He asked in a lower voice, pressing kisses into your neck. As he hit your sensitive spot, you groaned, almost involuntarily grinding against him.
“Mark…” You whined, and he again laughed.
“So tell me what do you want?” He asked, slipping his hands under our shirt. Your breath hitched in your throat.
“More…” You said and he laughed, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.
“That’s not a helpful answer!”
“I don’t know what you say!” You replied defensively.
“Well, let’s start with no sex, it’s too soon for that.” He said and you nodded.
“Third base?” You suggested.
“For me or you?”
“Well, you came last night, I only came once.”
“But can’t I enjoy the female privaledge of multiple orgasms?”
“You’re so lucky I enjoy making you moan.” He said crashing his lips against yours. Much of that playful air in your kisses evaporated. His hands moved further up on your skin, ultimately pushing your shirt off. He brought his body closer to yours, wanting you to stay warm and exposed to too much of the cold air in your bedroom.
He left a trail of kisses from your jaw down your neck and over your chest, teasing your nipples with his mouth for a short moment before his peppered more kisses over your stomach, ultimately coming to your panties. He hooked his fingers in them, pressed deep kisses into your hipbones while he pulled them off your legs.
You whined, rolling your body while he pressed kisses into your inner thigh, not where you wanted him to. Another round of chuckles from him later, you finally felt his tongue and mouth against your heat. Slowly he wove his tongue between your folds and around your clit. He dipped his tongue in and out of your core, barely getting past your entrance. It was still enough to make your blood turn hot and muscles begin to continuously tighten. At the same time, his fingers danced over the skin of your stomach and things, soft as butterflies and more than enough to send shudders through your entire body. It really wasn’t long before you felt that your climax was around the corner and your hands snapped forward, gripping onto his hair. You did your best not to pull too hard as your orgasm rocked through your body.
Once you had finished, he pressed more kisses into your hipbones before moving his body up over yours, pulling you against him under the covers.
After a few moments where the only sounds were the movement of sheets and your breathing, you finally broke the silence.
“So I wonder how long it’ll be until one of your members calls you.” You asked, making him laugh.
“God, let me check. I bet they’ve already texted.” He said reaching for his phone on the side table. “Yep, they’ve all texted me. Jackson and BamBam were about as subtle as a boulder to the face. BamBam said “How was y’alls first time doing it?” while Jackson said “Bro you have to tell me how *it* went!” Along with more explicit terminology. Jinyoung was just like ‘Let me know when you plan to be back. Hope you’re having fun.’ Jaebum told me to be responsible and Yugyeom said he hoped I had fun.” He said, reading the messages. You laughed, pressing your face into his neck.
“They’re truly supportive.” You said and he sighed.
“Yeah, and nosy as hell.” He said before turning back to you. “But I am having a great time.” He kissed your temple. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face, wishing you could stay in bed for the rest of the day.

I got tagged by @compromised-by-castiel to do a thing

Rules: you have to tag 15 people at the end of this challenge I don’t need no stinking rules

Five Things You’ll Find In My Bag:

  • Lint
  • Assorted MOR roll-on perfume
  • PlayStation Vita
  • 3DS
  • Probably croissant flakes?

Five Things You’ll Find In My Bedroom:

  • Tiny Satan
  • Chubby Satan
  • Clothes
  • More clothes
  • Jesus Christ I own too much clothing

Five Things I’ve Always Wanted To Do:

  • Go to Japan, Greece and South Africa
  • Win the lottery
  • Own an apartment
  • Take an entire week off work to watch GDQ and play video games and not have to worry about things blowing up in my absence
  • Attain some acceptable measure of internal equilibrium

Five Things That Make Me Feel Happy:

  • Friendos
  • Husbando
  • Tiny Satan
  • Chubby Satan
  • An interesting and almost unique cocktail of medications

Five Things I’m Currently Into:

  • Final Fantasy XIV (see you on Moogle, motherfuckers)
  • Ball-jointed dolls
  • GaysYuri!!! on ICE!
  • Undertale
  • Metalocalypse

Five Things On My To-Do List:

  • Clean the kitchen (will probably end up playing FFXIV)
  • Clean the bathroom (will probably end up playing FFXIV)
  • Clean the bedroom (will probably end up playing FFXIV)
  • Clean the living room (will probably end up playing FFXIV)
  • Finish setting up the doll room (will probably end up playing FFXIV)

Like friendo before me, I’m only tagging a few people, but feel free to tag 15 people if you want I guess?

@kyzobcm @ducktorfizzygood @khemetic-eulogy @plupluru @torinomon

anonymous asked:

Hitler was a mental case (anxiety and other mental disorders) and a junkie who tried a concoction of all sorts of drugs. How about Ouma begins experimenting with drugs in the nurse's office in order to cope with his anxiety of the killing game. After a while, he begins abusing the drugs, and his behavior changes to the point where others worry. This prompt has some creative liberties because drugs affect people differently, especially drug cocktails. I'm interested to see how he recovers.

I’m probs gonna have to write a Part 2 to this story, because I couldn’t fit in the recovery aspect that you’re interested in. Sorry D: Probs post a part two tomorrow? Or maybe after doing a few other prompts (got 15 other in me box here oh wow :0) Either way, a Part 2 is defs being planned! :D

Anyways, I like writing an Ouma who has completely given up. An Ouma in despair, not despair crazy, just, despair… empty. Despair… sad. You’ll see I guess. :0 

Also, as a side note… I have… no idea, about drug stuff, at all. I’m kinda… not the best at that so uh, I’m sorry if my portrayal isn’t accurate D: Anyways, um, please enjoy ^u^ 

To Rekindle Your Hope

There was something seriously wrong with Ouma Kokichi.

Amami barely noticed it at first, just an off-hand comment or a strange look Ouma gave Amami every now and then. It wasn’t anything memorable, it wasn’t anything concerning. It was just a moment of weirdness that everyone got from time to time, right? Amami thought there was no need for concern.

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You’re just a few questions away from finding your new scent.

Perfumers can find inspiration for their scents anywhere—from a special exotic ingredient to a faraway land they traveled to on a whim. But Philosophy’s latest collection of my philosophy fragrances are inspired by something you’re very well acquainted with—yourself. Drawing from the qualities we love in ourselves the most, such as empowerment, gratitude and self-expression, the always-thinks-on-the-positive-side brand brewed scents that embody those endearing qualities. To help you find out which is most suited for you, The Sephora Glossy crafted a no-fail quiz so you can nail down the aroma you’ll cherish most. And if you find yourself in more than one bottle, simply pick up each that’s calling your name—they’re meant to be layered and blended, after all. That way, you can create a personal concoction that truly represents you. Find out your scent philosophy below.

Do you keep a journal of things you’re grateful for every day? Which definitely includes your strong eyebrow game.

THE SCENT: Grateful

THE MANTRA: “I am grateful for even the little things.”

We have one more thing to add to that list:  this “watery floral” perfume. Sweet and fresh, this scent mixes melon, rose, orchid, and Lily of the Valley for one cooling fragrance. After a single spritz, you’ll feel as if you’re hanging by a stream surrounded by sweet blooms.

Have you ever paid for a complete stranger’s latte to make their day, making it a venti to boot?


THE MANTRA: “I always give kindness without expectation.”

You have a generous spirit, but we think it’s about time you start treating yourself, too. And this scent is a perfect start, since it’s inspired by those who are gentle and caring, like yourself. The “sparkling musk” perfume is warm and inviting, thanks to notes of pear, Bergamot, sandalwood, and more.

Do you have a daring bucket list that includes getting a pixie cut, even though all the magazines say it won’t flatter your face shape?

THE SCENT: Empowered

THE MANTRA: “I empower myself to live fearlessly”

You’re not afraid to grab life by the horns, and this smoky meets fresh “cashmere woods” scent is just as adventurous. Notes of sandal, amber, and cedar wood mixed with vetiver are what make this perform suitable for those who aren’t scared to break away from saccharine aromas.

Have you had the same hairstyle for years because that bob never stops looking good on you?

THE SCENT: Truthful

THE MANTRA: “I am honest. I am true. I am me.”

Some might say you’re predictable, but we think there’s power in honoring what you really love and what represents you best. With that said, there’s nothing blasé about this “fruity blossom” scent, and if you know you’re smitten with the aromas of wild fig, jasmine, and verbena, this crisp, musky perfume is just right for your genuine spirit.

Do your Instagram posts all have the same cohesive and artistic look? #SoCreative

THE SCENT: Expressive

THE MANTRA: “I am free to express who I am.”

You value your individual energy and artistic point of view. Mix and matching elements to fine-tune the visionary aesthetic of your mind’s eye has always been a part of your DNA. This “warm citrus” scent captivates that same attitude by combining floral lavender and peony with bursts of tart pink grapefruit and bitter orange for an interesting cocktail of fragrance that can’t be easily imitated.

Have you grown to love your flaws, including that mole?

THE SCENT: Compassionate

THE MANTRA: “I see the world with love & compassion.”

It can be easy to have compassion for others, but for yourself? Not as much. Yet you’ve mastered self-love and embraced all your quirks. That makes this scent your match. The spiciness from the velvet sandalwood and vanilla beans will comfort you with warmth, while coconut water adds a nourishing feel.



Dying from the angst whilst giggling over the backstories and headcanons. Thanks @feynites for serving up such an interesting cocktail of feels :P

Also this bit of gold: ‘She likes Uthvir. She thinks they are astoundingly attractive. So sleek and sharp! And it is so refreshing to find someone who understands aesthetic themes, like do not get her started on Thenvunin, he’s hopeless, he mixes himself up all the time.’ 

At least he’s colour-coordinated now? Mama would be so proud.

Featuring That Outfit. :3

anonymous asked:

billdip 12 or 31 :3c

i’m doing 31 cause it’s gonna be way more fun. 👀

31. prostitute/client au

some nsfw-ish text/references but no straight up smut.


Dipper Pines was not having a good birthday.

He knew that turning 21 meant his friends dragging him out to get (legally) drunk for the first time, no matter how much he told them he didn’t feel like going to a douchey bar and then to an overcrowded club.

It wasn’t a complete disaster; he did have fun trying some interesting cocktails and watching his friend Nate make an ass of himself at the club, but he really would have rather just gone home after that. He could have sat back with his friends at his apartment for the rest of the night, smoked a few bowls, watched some shitty movies, eaten a lot of cake, and then gone to sleep content with the world.

But no. He had to have been blindfolded and dropped off at a seemingly empty hotel room by his friends and left completely on his own, with no idea what hotel he was even in or how to get back to the apartment, just a key and a note in his pocket that said “room 924.”

So he went to room 924.

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Don’t Be A Cool Girl

One of my biggest joys in any beach vacation is, aside from the fruity, pre-lunch-hour alcohol, my airport hoarding of fashion and women’s interest magazines. While 95 percent of my life may be spent avoiding the financial investment of glossy rags, as well as the impetus to buy things and feel down about myself that they inevitably bring, that glorious 5 percent on a plane and on the sand is all about lazily flipping through the pages of ELLE or Harper’s or Vogue, devouring longreads from posh divorcées and bikini tips from Reese Witherspoon. And this trip has been no exception, as I spent several hours on the beach this afternoon flipping through the pages of a few different magazines, silently noting the new miracle cure for adult acne and thoroughly enjoying a cover story about T Swizzle.

But a single line in one of them caught my eye, and hooked into me in a way the fizzy, enthusiastic writing of women’s magazines rarely does. Some designer or another — a 20-something whom Google verified as indeed stunning, rich, French, and thin — was crowned a Cool Girl, and we were all encouraged to buy her designs before she becomes (inevitably) so established that they’ll be out of even this upscale magazine’s readership’s price range. A cool girl. And even where I was, in a lush hotel in Miami (thanks, boyfriend’s hotel-and-airfaire-point-accruing job!), sitting on the sand and sipping gratis champagne, I suddenly felt profoundly uncool. The truth was, I’d been agonizing over the looming prospect of posting a ~bikini photo~, the flag atop the mountain of the few months I’ve been really watching what I eat and working on transforming my body. I’ve not yet reached the finish line, and after reading that passage about the effortless Cool Girl and her tall, lithe body, I felt more discouraged than ever.

So I decided to plunge in headfirst, posting a photo I’d initially vetoed because it showed my little tummy creases and the pockets of fluff that develop on my upper arm when not in the skinny-arm pose. Perhaps it was silly, but at the moment, it felt to me like a conscious stab against the perfect Cool Girl I would not and could not be. I put the magazine down, determined to forget about it and her, and got back to enjoying my day at the beach (until my pale ass inevitably started to burn, which brought me back here to write).

The truth is, very few of us are Cool Girls. And though my world of writing — as glamorous as it may seem to some — is quite far from most of the real Cool Girls, I’ve met a few of them myself, and I can confirm that they give off an ethereal je ne sais quoi, managing to make a ripped tee shirt look intentional and chic, instead of just ratty and unkempt. Their social media presences are mysterious and vaguely sexy, and they never let you in on any of the less-flattering details behind their perfectly crafted personas. I can attest that, even meeting them in real life, you walk away with the impression that there is nothing negative or troublesome in their lives, and if there is, it will immediately be transformed into some powerful and interesting work of Art. They are what we would call “fashionable,” not just following trends but defining them, breaking the rules and making new ones in the process, and eventually being featured in magazines like the very one I was reading, where they are given a crown for the hard work of style-defining they’ve done, the crown of the Cool Girl (also sometimes referred to as It Girl).

And the desire to be like them, to emulate them and inch closer to their cutting-edge interesting-ness, drives us to spend and to slim. In attempting to reshape my body, I’ve had to question myself again and again if I am doing it because of health, or to look a certain way in a certain dress. In reducing my spending and purchasing more intentionally, I’ve had to resist the urge to buy the outfit or the end table that would suddenly make me so much more stylish and chic. I’ve had to ward off the burning, consuming need to contort my life into some imitation of Cool. We all do; that is what so many industries thrive off of entirely, and to slip out of that slimy Matrix pod and into something more healthy and sustainable can be nigh impossible.

But don’t be her. Allow my very brief experience with a very mild amount of internet fame be the conviction you need that it isn’t worth it. Even as a rising profile makes me more and more anxious about appearing a certain way, my interaction with the very people who do makes me even more afraid of slipping into the trap of seeming Cool. Don’t be Cool, because maintaining an air of avant-garde perfection on social media is a full-time job in itself, and even the prettiest photos can have the silliest backstories. Don’t be Cool, because living a life that is composed of glamour shots and perfectly-curated aesthetic leaves no room for being human. Being Cool is the Old World of style, where what is and isn’t acceptable was dictated to us from on high from behind a designer desk in some skyscraper in Midtown Manhattan. It has no place in a world where beauty can come from anywhere, where everyone can be part of the conversation, and a brace-faced teenager in rural Indiana can become the Next Big Thing.

We are no longer accepting these narrow terms of what is and isn’t chic, what is and isn’t a good body or the “right” way to dress. We have a chance to let go of these meaningless messages to consume more product and consume less food, to transform ourselves into something that will make us more interesting at cocktail parties but more unhappy in the long run. We deserve to have blemishes and frizzy hair and wardrobes full of last season’s trend pieces because they looked really, really good on us. We deserve to set our own terms for beauty and happiness, and to buy only what we love, and what works for our budgets, because chic — no matter what designer ads want to tell us — is not something that you can hang in your closet and put on when you go to a big, important event.

Be happy. Don’t worry about getting your name on a list, or your picture next to important people. Don’t worry about the labels on your bag or the up-to-dateness of your tastes. Don’t worry about putting forth an image of effortless Cool, because it’ll never be true. Realize that the joy of hitting a milestone in your savings account feels a thousand times better than the dress you were convinced would make you beautiful, and a big dinner with friends where you don’t worry about calories feels a thousand times better than perfectly-defined abs all the time. Cool is a myth, even if some people do a damn good job of faking it, and even if some glossy magazines insist on telling you that some girl across the world who designs statement jewelry is totally embodying it. That girl will never be you, and she’ll never be me either.

So maybe we should just be ourselves.