strawberry vodka lemonade

Kitten - H.S.

Originally posted by confusedharrie

Intimidate (inˈtiməˌdāt/verb): frighten or overawe (someone), especially in order to make them do what one wants.

She was intimidated by him, but then again so was everyone else. She had seen him before, at the bar her friend dragged her too. He always had his hand wrapped around a drink or someone’s neck. He was tall, so very tall, it made her want to hide away in a corner. He was well built, his shirt always showing off his biceps, his tattoo covered arms she would always stare at. From afar she couldn’t see them all, but he favorite had been the rose. It was faded, telling her it was one of his older ones, but she liked it because it simply didn’t suit him. He didn’t seem to be a man that would openly support a rose tattoo. His face was always emotionless, his green eyes, his beautiful green eyes, were always so cold and hard. She swore if looks could kill everyone would probably be dead. His brown hair was always pushed up or hidden under a hat, she loved admiring him. His nose was slightly just a little big for his face but she thought it was cute, and his pink full lips just always seemed so soft to her.

She had heard about him. Harry Styles. He worked at this bar sometimes, she would come in for cheesy fries or wings, this bar was where she gained her freshman fifteen. But besides the food he was nice to look at. Almost every girl on her floor gossiped about him. Harry had apparently hooked up with a girl on her campus, the girl had a boyfriend. The boyfriend tried to fight Harry and ended up in the hospital, he was too scared to press charges. She had heard so many rumors about the man, yet she was still curious. She was intrigued.

She didn’t know it, but he watched her too. He watched her every weekend when she came in with her friends. He watched how she always nervously tucked at the end of her tight dress, trying to pull it lower so it would cover her lower half. He watched as she would have guys come up to her, only for her to turn them down and her friend would scowl her. He enjoyed watching her. He loved when her wide doe eyes would widen even more, if it were even possible, as her friends would gossip. He loved how her grey eyes were a perfect color, not too dark not too light, it fit her olive colored skin. He loved the small dimple that would appear on her cheek when she smiled at anyone. Harry had been intrigued from the moment she first walked in the bar. Her nose scrunched up in disgust of the smell, but she pulled through and followed her friends. He was mostly shocked by the length of her hair, the long brown waves seemed to flow down her back, he had never seen anyone with such long hair.

Harry stood by the bar, leaning against it. His back to a guy that was currently hitting on her, he could very clearly here the conversation. His body stiffened and fingers gripped around his empty cup, lips pressed in a thin line.

“You look lovely,” the man told her.

She giggled, and Harry felt something in his stomach. Something he’s never felt before, it was nice and disgusting at the same time. Her giggle was soft and it sounded like summer.

“Thank you,” she responded, her voice was warm and smooth, it made Harry’s grip on his cup loosen.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

“I’m all set thank you,” she smiled, holding up her glass that contained water.

“Well can I at least get your name?” the man asked her, smiling back at her.

She bites her lower lip, shaking her head, “you seem very nice but I’m not looking for anything,” she tells him, “just having a nice night out with my girls.”

“Your girls seemed to have left you all alone,” the man stated, which was true. The group she had came in with found themselves slightly drunk and talking to a group of college guys.

She shrugs, “still doesn’t mean I came here to see you,” she stated.

Harry peeked over his shoulder, she was smiling at the blonde man. Her cheeks were pink and smile bright, her eyes matching it. He had never seen such a beautiful smile, it just seemed so perfect. He swears that the dark lit bar lit up just slightly.

“You’re funny,” the man chuckled, “I’m Cam.”

“I’m Ella,” she says, “but that’s all you’re getting out of me.”

“We’ll see,” Cam laughed, “now how about another drink? You seem to be running low.”

“What can I get you Harry?” the bartender asked, her blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail, “the usual?”

“Harry,” Ella whispered to herself.

Harry heard it, he loved it. Though it was barely audible he heard it clearly as if she was whispering it in his ear. There was nothing Harry wanted more than having the girl laying beneath him repeating that name, in a breathless whisper.

“Whisky,” Harry says, sliding her the empty glass. He took this chance to turn to Ella, flashing her his smile that seemed to work on just about any girl, “you called kitten?”

He watched as the heat rose to Ella’s cheeks, the olive skin turning a light shade of pink. Her grey eyes dropping to her now empty glass in embarrassment, “sorry, you just don’t look like a Harry,” she says.

“What do I look like then?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

She presses her lips together, thinking as she examines his features, “Don’t know,” she admits, even more embarrassed, “just something stronger would fit you, Harry makes me think of an old man.”

Harry chuckled, “Cam isn’t an old man name,” Cam chirped in.

“Can I buy you a drink kitten?” Harry smiled at Ella.

“A strawberry lemonade vodka,” Ella says.

Cam frowns, “thought you weren’t thirsty,” he says.

Ella smiled softly, touching his arm gently, “you’re really nice,” she says, she shifts in her seat sitting down her empty cup and pointing to the blonde girl standing by the pool table, “she’s been eyeing you all night. Why don’t you take a drink over to her?”

Cam rolled his eyes but made his way over, “was she really?” Harry asked, sitting down as the bartender brought over their drinks.

“Hopefully,” she laughs, grabbing the drink and sipping it, “I’m Ella.”

“I know,” Harry says.

“Where you eaves dropping?” she giggled, her eye brow raised at him.

“Maybe,” Harry says.

She rolled her eyes in a teasing matter, “you’re a little nosey aren’t you?” she teased.

“You’re hurting me here Ella, accusing me of doing things and making fun of name,” Harry says, placing a hand over his heart, “you’re hurting me right here.”

Ella wraps her hands over his wrist, her hands were soft and warm, just like her heart. She slides his hand over, “your heart is right there,” she says.

Harry drops his hand, “what are you a doctor?”

Ella grins shaking her head as she brings her drink towards her, her red tinted lips wrapping around the black thin straw that’s used for stirring, “actually I’m a soon to be doctor, graduating in two years,” she informs him.

“It’s a good thing you know where the heart is then,” Harry says.

“Very.”

Harry’s friends looked on, annoyed. Their chances for free drinks now sat at the bar with Ella. The two kept talking. Ella explaining how she wanted to become a doctor until she got finically stable and then head to Africa where she could help those who needed her. She talked about how much she loved the world and everyone and Harry was amazed. He didn’t get it, truly he tried but didn’t. He couldn’t wrap his head around how warm and lovely this woman was. She was so passionate and hopeful about loving other.

“If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go?” Ella asked, a slurping noise coming from her cup as she had just finished her forth drink. Her head spun a little and she was slightly drunk, but not dance on the table and puke drunk. It was the perfect amount of drunk, she had just enough confidence to talk to him, but not enough alcohol to feel sleepy.

“Greece,” Harry says, “what about you?”

The sat in the corner booth now. The lights at the counter bugged Ella and the booth seemed to be slightly darker. She sat across from him, hands in her palm as she watched him. He was admiring her, her wide eyes bright and seem to gleam, her nose sniffling every once and a while.

“Australia, ever since H2o, I am convinced they have mermaids,” she says, her cheeks pink, “did that hurt?” she asked, pointing to the ring on Harry’s eyebrows.

His hand reached up to touch it, “not at all,” he shrugged. It was a lie, it hurt like a bitch and it had gotten infected. Harry hated it but he was not going to admit that to her.

“I got this done,” she says, moving the hair away from her right ear to reveal a cartilage piercing, “it hurt so much. I cried, and then I got it on the side I sleep on and so for two months I couldn’t sleep properly, and then it got infected. It was all hot and itchy, I promised to never get another piercing again.”

She rambled her words coming out slightly slower as she had a lot to drink. Harry chuckled, “what about your tattoos?” she says, letting her hair fall again to cover the piercing.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Harry says and she nods, smiling and leaning closer, “this first couple did, but the rest didn’t. After a while it started feeling good.”

“My parents would kill me,” Ella pouted, and Harry could have sworn it was the cutest thing in the world, “but if I could get something I would get a serotonin molecule.”

Harry laughed, “but my parents wouldn’t let me, and I really wanted it,” she keeps talking, “it’s so sad. They’re so mean I should be able to.”

“You should,” Harry agreed.

“Are you parents relaxed?”

“Doesn’t matter I’m an adult,” Harry says.

She nods, “my feet hurt,” she frowns, kicking up her legs next to her, Harry watches her struggle to pull off her black heels. She tosses them on the table, “shoes are dumb.”

Harry stifles a laugh, “floors dirty kitten,” he says.

“You’re dirty,” she struggles to form a comeback in her drunken state and Harry laughs, “sorry that was mean.”

“It’s okay.”

“You’re cute,” Ella tells him.

Harry smiled, “you’re cute,” he says back.

Ella gasped, breaking into a fit of giggles, “thank you,” she says.

“You’re also slightly drunk,” Harry laughs.

“You’re not wrong,” she says to him.

“Ella,” a girl stumbles over, “we’re leaving.”

Ella rubs her eyes, her make up smudging only making her look cuter to Harry. She turns to Harry, a pout on her pretty pink lips, “let me get your number before you go kitten,” he says.

Ella nods grabbing her purse, she fumbles in the black hole before pulling out the device and handing it to Harry. He texts himself and then helps her slip on her heels, chuckling as she giggled, claiming she was Cinderella.

“Get it CinderELLA,” she laughs, Harry helping her out of the booth.

“Yes kitten I get it,” he laughs, leaning down and kissing her cheek.

“You’re not going to kiss me, kiss me,” she frowns.

Harry wants to. He really wants to taste the cherry chap stick she had slapped on; he really wants to taste the strawberry lemonade on her tongue. But she was drunk, and that had never really stopped him before, but she was different. She was cute and vulnerable.

“You’re a little drunk,” Harry says, pulling back, “maybe next time.”

She frowns as her friend grabs her arm, another girl shouting that their lyft had arrived, “bye Harry,” she yells, waving.

Harry smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was pleased with himself.

The street was dark, light up by flickering poles. He hated his neighborhood, he knew it was somewhere Ella would never be found in. His apartment complex was a mess, most of it filled with meth addicts and prostitutes. Harry made his way up the stairs where he was pretty sure there was a new blood stain, yes new, someone had been shot there just a month ago.

When he opened the door to his very small one bedroom apartment he rolled his eyes. It reeked of weed and he could see the two guys sitting on his ratty couch he had found outside. He saw the older one, the brunette who thought it would be fun to dye his hair blue, rolling up a new blunt.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” Harry snapped, shrugging of his jacket and tossing it on the small brown table that awkwardly sat in between the kitchen and living room.

“Where’s the slut from the bar?” The blue hair one asked, a smirk on his lips.

“Fuck off Dylan, I asked you a question,” Harry sneered, smacking the back of his head, he turned to the black haired guy sitting on the couch, “and you what the fuck? You guys don’t live here.”

“And thank God we don’t,” Dylan laughed.

Harry wrapped his fingers around the collar of Dylan’s shirt, lifting him up from the couch with no problem, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Dylan’s brown eyes widen in fear, “n-nothing just joking with you,” he stuttered.

Harry forcefully shoves him back on the couch and then proceeds to take a step back, “you sure you didn’t shit yourself?” Oliver laughed at Dylan as he tried to re-adjust himself.

“Fuck off,” Dylan snapped rolling his eyes.

“Where’s the girl?” Oliver asked, “she was hot.”

“None of your fucking business,” Harry retorted, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it, he brings it to his lips inhaling.

“Are you going to tell us how you f u c k e d her or leave us hanging?” Dylan raised an eyebrow.

Harry exhaled the toxin, a line of smoke leaving his lips, “I’m going to remind you that it’s not your damn business and if you ask one more time I will rip your head off your shoulders, how’s that for an answer?” He says, his voice cold and sharp.

Dylan nods, trying to not seem like he was scared. He coughed and leaned back, handing the small blunt to Oliver who took it happily.

As Harry sat there watching his two friends get high in his low income apartment he couldn’t help but think about Ella. He couldn’t help but wonder if she made it back safe, wondering about the hangover she would have tomorrow. He couldn’t help but wonder what he should do next. He had fifty dollars to his name until Friday and taking her out to dinner was not an option. Harry frowned, he wanted to see her again but he didn’t know how.

Harry pulled out his phone, clicking on Ella’s name.

Hope you got home safe. X - H


MASTERLIST

Mendicus: Part 1

Pecunia (Money)

Written for @icecream-and-gadreel for donating to my Supernatural Seattle 2017 Gift!

Pairing: soulless!Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2,475

Warnings: sub!soulless!Sam,  public teasing (male receiving), dirty talk, sex toy shop, car-shaming (is that even a warning?), mentions of sex workers.

Summary: Tired of Sam’s dominating ways, the reader convinces Sam to be a little submissive for once. 

It was February, the weather was in between being too warm in the day and too cold at night, and you were currently in one of the busiest, most beautiful cities in the United States of America

Vegas week had finally arrived. You, Sam, and Dean were granted a full seven days off from the dangerous world of hunting. The city was crowded, as usual, but you found a reasonable motel on the outskirts. Within an hour you were settled in and relatively comfortable, and you decided to get your own room for once. You deserved a little “me” time.

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💕The Pink Man 💕


#coctails #drinks #vodka #lemonade #lemon #strawberry #sprite #drink #cocktail

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Brain Chemistry

So I got to chatting with asreoninfusion after my post about my crack story. She made it sound way less bad-ridiculous. (I tried to send you a response from my cell phone, but I have no idea if it sent or not. Either way thank you for that!) I figure that if I find it funny, there’s probably at least one other person who will be amused by it too. That’ll make it all worth it.

There is no excuse for this. None at all. It’s pretty much fluffy crack with a light seasoning of ASGZC. It may or may not have been written under the influence of some delicious strawberry lemonade vodka. It all started because of this post from imaginetheotp. Really, if you don’t read the story, go look at that post. The video is so very worth it.

For some reason I pictured Genesis as the one trying to sleep and Angeal as the one that’s awake. Please enjoy the following.

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“Are your underwear in a twist or are you just naturally a dick?” Anastasia questioned, cocking an eyebrow at the other. She crossed her arms as she leaned back in her desk chair, eyeing the other who stood in the doorway. “Whatever, details of your stupidity dont interest me.” The female reached for the strawberry lemonade vodka she was sipping on out of a glass bottle, holding it to her lips as she drank. The sweet liquid excited her taste buds and she raised her eyebrow at the other yet again. “Why are you still staring at me? Did you want some or something? 5 bucks…” her plump pout curled into a smirk, before she flashed her pearly whites. “ …one hundred more and we could have some real fun, ” she added with a wink, before mimicking fellatio to the respective gender.

3

Just made this strawberry lemonade vodka that I saw on tumblr yesterday and was inspired/tempted by. It’s made using fresh strawberries and lemon juice, I’ve been cutting and chopping and blending for half an hour and making sugar syrups but the finished product is so GOOD. Frosting the glasses with sugar is beautiful too, lush stuff. 

SO BLOODY TASTY. And there’s a great deal of vodka in it but the sweetness of the strawberries and tartness of the lemon juice counteracts it’s strength and gives it a beautiful summary balance. Basically, you can’t taste it. Here’s to drunken summer evenings!