![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Leave a comment
Beyond McKinley - November 5th, 2010
a GLEE college verse rpg
05 November 2010 @ 07:47 am
Secret Diary of a Hag & Her Fag (Part One)
05 November 2010 @ 08:34 am
The Love Boat?
Who: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
showingnuttage, morbidbubbles, singslikeagirl and bad2theboner
What: College cruise & faces from the past
Where: Somewhere in the Bahamas
When: Friday afternoon, early November
Rating: PG-13 for now
Sam was rapidly starting to forget why the hell he agreed to come on this college cruise. It was something to do with getting laid, but as soon as he stepped on the luxurious ship, Bahamas-bound, he knew the girls were way, waaaaay out of his league. Perfect size twos, gorgeous breasts, perfect bodies... and that was before he even contemplated the men. As had become a habit of his recently. So, not only was he not going to get laid by any of these perfect people, but he was stuck on this ship for the duration with absolutely no escape. His room mate had been the one to convince Sam to take the plunge, and it really had seemed like a good idea half-pissed over tequila shooters in a crummy little bar in one of New York's back streets which was a popular hang out for college students on a budget.
But now? Sam couldn't decide if that churning in his gut was seasickness or just plain terror of being trapped in this scene that, although it was college and he was a college student, really wasn't his thing. Maybe he could just work on his tan? The temperature outside was hitting 87 degrees, so that would work. He downed his peculiar looking orange cocktail and tried not to worry too much about what was in it and slipped off the bar stool he had been warming since he ventured out of his cabin to explore earlier. After taking in the sights, alcohol was inevitable.
On the dancefloor in the centre of the large entertainment room, there was a large and enthusiastic crowd partaking in the infamous Nutbush dance, and Sam tried not to cringe too much at the Tina Turner... or gawp too much at bouncing breasts. Too much temptation overload. It was a miracle he wasn't walking around with a permanent hard-on. He tried to bid a hasty retreat and avoid the increasing dance group. There had to be fifty+ people there now. Did he blink and they multiplied like bacteria? He apologised when he bumped into a cosy looking couple dragging each other other the dancefloor hand-in-hand and it was only then that he spotted who was actually leading spectacle. Sam's mouth dropped open and all he could do was gape in shock. Surely not. Of all the places, in all the world, it couldn't be.
But there he was. Kurt Hummel, Sam's very secret high school crush, in all his glory leading all these people in an impromtu dance number looking... well, absolutely fabulous.
showingnuttage, morbidbubbles, singslikeagirl and bad2theboner What: College cruise & faces from the past
Where: Somewhere in the Bahamas
When: Friday afternoon, early November
Rating: PG-13 for now
Sam was rapidly starting to forget why the hell he agreed to come on this college cruise. It was something to do with getting laid, but as soon as he stepped on the luxurious ship, Bahamas-bound, he knew the girls were way, waaaaay out of his league. Perfect size twos, gorgeous breasts, perfect bodies... and that was before he even contemplated the men. As had become a habit of his recently. So, not only was he not going to get laid by any of these perfect people, but he was stuck on this ship for the duration with absolutely no escape. His room mate had been the one to convince Sam to take the plunge, and it really had seemed like a good idea half-pissed over tequila shooters in a crummy little bar in one of New York's back streets which was a popular hang out for college students on a budget.
But now? Sam couldn't decide if that churning in his gut was seasickness or just plain terror of being trapped in this scene that, although it was college and he was a college student, really wasn't his thing. Maybe he could just work on his tan? The temperature outside was hitting 87 degrees, so that would work. He downed his peculiar looking orange cocktail and tried not to worry too much about what was in it and slipped off the bar stool he had been warming since he ventured out of his cabin to explore earlier. After taking in the sights, alcohol was inevitable.
On the dancefloor in the centre of the large entertainment room, there was a large and enthusiastic crowd partaking in the infamous Nutbush dance, and Sam tried not to cringe too much at the Tina Turner... or gawp too much at bouncing breasts. Too much temptation overload. It was a miracle he wasn't walking around with a permanent hard-on. He tried to bid a hasty retreat and avoid the increasing dance group. There had to be fifty+ people there now. Did he blink and they multiplied like bacteria? He apologised when he bumped into a cosy looking couple dragging each other other the dancefloor hand-in-hand and it was only then that he spotted who was actually leading spectacle. Sam's mouth dropped open and all he could do was gape in shock. Surely not. Of all the places, in all the world, it couldn't be.
But there he was. Kurt Hummel, Sam's very secret high school crush, in all his glory leading all these people in an impromtu dance number looking... well, absolutely fabulous.
Current Mood: 
shocked
shocked05 November 2010 @ 08:34 am
The Love Boat?
Who: showingnuttage, morbidbubbles, singslikeagirl and bad2theboner
What: College cruise & faces from the past
Where: Somewhere in the Bahamas
When: Friday afternoon, early November
Rating: PG-13 for now
Sam was rapidly starting to forget why the hell he agreed to come on this college cruise. It was something to do with getting laid, but as soon as he stepped on the luxurious ship, Bahamas-bound, he knew the girls were way, waaaaay out of his league. Perfect size twos, gorgeous breasts, perfect bodies... and that was before he even contemplated the men. As had become a habit of his recently. So, not only was he not going to get laid by any of these perfect people, but he was stuck on this ship for the duration with absolutely no escape. His room mate had been the one to convince Sam to take the plunge, and it really had seemed like a good idea half-pissed over tequila shooters in a crummy little bar in one of New York's back streets which was a popular hang out for college students on a budget.
But now? Sam couldn't decide if that churning in his gut was seasickness or just plain terror of being trapped in this scene that, although it was college and he was a college student, really wasn't his thing. Maybe he could just work on his tan? The temperature outside was hitting 87 degrees, so that would work. He downed his peculiar looking orange cocktail and tried not to worry too much about what was in it and slipped off the bar stool he had been warming since he ventured out of his cabin to explore earlier. After taking in the sights, alcohol was inevitable.
On the dancefloor in the centre of the large entertainment room, there was a large and enthusiastic crowd partaking in the infamous Nutbush dance, and Sam tried not to cringe too much at the Tina Turner... or gawp too much at bouncing breasts. Too much temptation overload. It was a miracle he wasn't walking around with a permanent hard-on. He tried to bid a hasty retreat and avoid the increasing dance group. There had to be fifty+ people there now. Did he blink and they multiplied like bacteria? He apologised when he bumped into a cosy looking couple dragging each other other the dancefloor hand-in-hand and it was only then that he spotted who was actually leading spectacle. Sam's mouth dropped open and all he could do was gape in shock. Surely not. Of all the places, in all the world, it couldn't be.
But there he was. Kurt Hummel, Sam's very secret high school crush, in all his glory leading all these people in an impromtu dance number looking... well, absolutely fabulous.
showingnuttage, morbidbubbles, singslikeagirl and bad2theboner What: College cruise & faces from the past
Where: Somewhere in the Bahamas
When: Friday afternoon, early November
Rating: PG-13 for now
Sam was rapidly starting to forget why the hell he agreed to come on this college cruise. It was something to do with getting laid, but as soon as he stepped on the luxurious ship, Bahamas-bound, he knew the girls were way, waaaaay out of his league. Perfect size twos, gorgeous breasts, perfect bodies... and that was before he even contemplated the men. As had become a habit of his recently. So, not only was he not going to get laid by any of these perfect people, but he was stuck on this ship for the duration with absolutely no escape. His room mate had been the one to convince Sam to take the plunge, and it really had seemed like a good idea half-pissed over tequila shooters in a crummy little bar in one of New York's back streets which was a popular hang out for college students on a budget.
But now? Sam couldn't decide if that churning in his gut was seasickness or just plain terror of being trapped in this scene that, although it was college and he was a college student, really wasn't his thing. Maybe he could just work on his tan? The temperature outside was hitting 87 degrees, so that would work. He downed his peculiar looking orange cocktail and tried not to worry too much about what was in it and slipped off the bar stool he had been warming since he ventured out of his cabin to explore earlier. After taking in the sights, alcohol was inevitable.
On the dancefloor in the centre of the large entertainment room, there was a large and enthusiastic crowd partaking in the infamous Nutbush dance, and Sam tried not to cringe too much at the Tina Turner... or gawp too much at bouncing breasts. Too much temptation overload. It was a miracle he wasn't walking around with a permanent hard-on. He tried to bid a hasty retreat and avoid the increasing dance group. There had to be fifty+ people there now. Did he blink and they multiplied like bacteria? He apologised when he bumped into a cosy looking couple dragging each other other the dancefloor hand-in-hand and it was only then that he spotted who was actually leading spectacle. Sam's mouth dropped open and all he could do was gape in shock. Surely not. Of all the places, in all the world, it couldn't be.
But there he was. Kurt Hummel, Sam's very secret high school crush, in all his glory leading all these people in an impromtu dance number looking... well, absolutely fabulous.
Current Mood: shocked
shocked05 November 2010 @ 08:46 am
[TEXT] singslikeagirl and <user site="livejournal.
singslikeagirl and <user site="livejournal.
05 November 2010 @ 04:20 pm
Jeanette Sinclaire and the Chronicles of Sorority Initiation [Day One]
Who: Jeanette “Ferrari” Sinclaire
When: Sorority Initiation week, two weeks prior to school starting
Where: NYU Campus, Delta Phi Epsilon Sorority House
Rating: PG-13 (Mostly for language and sexual references)
Perhaps you could say she was lucky to have chosen New York University as her college of choice. With it so closely affiliated with Polytechnic University, it was easy to transfer last minute without too much of a hassle. Had she chosen somewhere else? Who knows what could happen. She could be playing for the ‘NYU Violets’ or stuck with some half-assed major she didn’t enjoy. She could’ve ended up in that Sorority House; Delta Phi Epsilon. She could have been stuck for a year in a House of dominantly blonde, attractive college girls, having parties every night and waking up with some college bi-curious one night stand. And she would have hated every moment of it.
Day One
She’d arrived mid-day on a Sunday in the shiny new Aston Martin DBS Volante she’d been gifted for graduation at the beginning of the summer. She’d only brought along enough clothes and essentials to last her a few days, or til’ Wednesday at least; her parents would be bringing up the U-Haul that day to finish bringing her things. As she was driving through the majorly obstructed, single lane drive-way of the college campus in search of a parking spot, she took in the marvelous moment to ogle at the sight of dozens upon dozens of girls converging on the lawn and around a large, brick and white column sorority house. She’d dressed in her normal-- hair down and wind-tossed from the rather long day’s drive, faded jeans, a white tank-top and big, classy aviators that covered her lust-darkened eyes. As a pair of girls took the opportunity to walk in front of her car, she pressed idly on the gas, smirking as the engine roared and caught the girls’ attention. They rolled their eyes and resumed their meandering, leaving Ferrari to chuckle amusedly in their wake.
It took a whole of twenty minutes to finally get to the parking area and park, but when she did, she cut the engine and just sighed contentedly. This place was like lesbian-fucking-heaven. Chuckling at the thought, she almost felt guilty just for thinking about other girls when he own, dearly beloved girlfriend was back in Ohio, waiting to come up to New York at the end of the week. She smiled to herself at the thought of the blonde before someone standing next to her car caught her attention. Swinging her head, she took in the slender, sundress-clad form of a light brunette standing with her hip jutted out and her hands on the edge of the convertible’s door. Ferrari frowned, eyeing the girl’s hands all over her car before looking up at her face. She was attractive, and smiling, so at least it wasn’t all for nothing. “Can I help you, princess?” Ferrari inquired, raising an eyebrow.
The girl laughed. “Name’s Laura,” How traditional. I would have expected something like Stacy or some other equally plain and over-used name .Ferrari thought idly. She nodded and then cocked her head forward a bit, as if to say ‘And…?’ The girl just laughed and looked down at the car. “Aston Martin. These cars are bad-ass. 12-cylinder and, what, 400 pounds of torque?”
Oh god. A girl who talked cars. This had to be the best fucking day of her life. “420, actually. 510 horsepower and an ADSystem for better handling.”
“Well damn skippy. Sounds like you actually know your cars, missy.”
Ferrari smirked and plucked the aviators off her face to push to the top of her head, “I didn’t even begin to tell you the modifications I’ve made on this baby.” She quipped, grinning when Laura let out a hearty laugh.
“You’re alright, Fresh-y. What’s your name?”
“Jeanette, but call me Ferrari.”
“Well alright, Ferrari, come on and I’ll show you around.”
Day one? Day one wasn’t so bad at all. Day Two was when shit started to hit the fan.
05 November 2010 @ 04:20 pm
Jeanette Sinclaire and the Chronicles of Sorority Initiation [Day One]
Who: Jeanette “Ferrari” Sinclaire
When: Sorority Initiation week, two weeks prior to school starting
Where: NYU Campus, Delta Phi Epsilon Sorority House
Rating: PG-13 (Mostly for language and sexual references)
Perhaps you could say she was lucky to have chosen New York University as her college of choice. With it so closely affiliated with Polytechnic University, it was easy to transfer last minute without too much of a hassle. Had she chosen somewhere else? Who knows what could happen. She could be playing for the ‘NYU Violets’ or stuck with some half-assed major she didn’t enjoy. She could’ve ended up in that Sorority House; Delta Phi Epsilon. She could have been stuck for a year in a House of dominantly blonde, attractive college girls, having parties every night and waking up with some college bi-curious one night stand. And she would have hated every moment of it.
Day One
She’d arrived mid-day on a Sunday in the shiny new Aston Martin DBS Volante she’d been gifted for graduation at the beginning of the summer. She’d only brought along enough clothes and essentials to last her a few days, or til’ Wednesday at least; her parents would be bringing up the U-Haul that day to finish bringing her things. As she was driving through the majorly obstructed, single lane drive-way of the college campus in search of a parking spot, she took in the marvelous moment to ogle at the sight of dozens upon dozens of girls converging on the lawn and around a large, brick and white column sorority house. She’d dressed in her normal-- hair down and wind-tossed from the rather long day’s drive, faded jeans, a white tank-top and big, classy aviators that covered her lust-darkened eyes. As a pair of girls took the opportunity to walk in front of her car, she pressed idly on the gas, smirking as the engine roared and caught the girls’ attention. They rolled their eyes and resumed their meandering, leaving Ferrari to chuckle amusedly in their wake.
It took a whole of twenty minutes to finally get to the parking area and park, but when she did, she cut the engine and just sighed contentedly. This place was like lesbian-fucking-heaven. Chuckling at the thought, she almost felt guilty just for thinking about other girls when he own, dearly beloved girlfriend was back in Ohio, waiting to come up to New York at the end of the week. She smiled to herself at the thought of the blonde before someone standing next to her car caught her attention. Swinging her head, she took in the slender, sundress-clad form of a light brunette standing with her hip jutted out and her hands on the edge of the convertible’s door. Ferrari frowned, eyeing the girl’s hands all over her car before looking up at her face. She was attractive, and smiling, so at least it wasn’t all for nothing. “Can I help you, princess?” Ferrari inquired, raising an eyebrow.
The girl laughed. “Name’s Laura,” How traditional. I would have expected something like Stacy or some other equally plain and over-used name .Ferrari thought idly. She nodded and then cocked her head forward a bit, as if to say ‘And…?’ The girl just laughed and looked down at the car. “Aston Martin. These cars are bad-ass. 12-cylinder and, what, 400 pounds of torque?”
Oh god. A girl who talked cars. This had to be the best fucking day of her life. “420, actually. 510 horsepower and an ADSystem for better handling.”
“Well damn skippy. Sounds like you actually know your cars, missy.”
Ferrari smirked and plucked the aviators off her face to push to the top of her head, “I didn’t even begin to tell you the modifications I’ve made on this baby.” She quipped, grinning when Laura let out a hearty laugh.
“You’re alright, Fresh-y. What’s your name?”
“Jeanette, but call me Ferrari.”
“Well alright, Ferrari, come on and I’ll show you around.”
Day one? Day one wasn’t so bad at all. Day Two was when shit started to hit the fan.
05 November 2010 @ 06:11 pm
[Text] Artie & Tina
Holy crap.You're never gonna believe who I just ran into on board!!!
Current Mood: 
excited
excited05 November 2010 @ 06:45 pm
Coffee Shop Soundtrack
Who: Breanah Davis and whoever wants a coffee
When: Wednesday morning
Where:Starbucks outside of the news studio
Rating: PG, possibly 13
Breanah pulled her cardigan on as she left the news station, looking left and right before jogging across the street, narrowly avoiding a taxi cab as she touched the curb. The brunette tucked her hair behind her ears as she quickened her stride, the coffee shop quickly coming into view. Breanah stood back as the glass door opened, a suited man exiting the shop in a hurry, pausing only long enough for Breanah to duck under his outstretched arm to enter.
Breanah took in the scent of freshly brewed coffee and stood at the end of the line, glancing at the menu. Soon Breanah was at the register, her favorite barista greeted her with a large grin.
“The usual today?” he asked, looking for the standard list, “Not a coffee run?” she shook her head and glanced back up at the menu.
“Venti iced chai and a slice of lemon pound cake.” She told the barista before handing him her debit card. He slid it through the machine and smiled.
“It’ll be right up, Breanah” Breanah nodded and took an empty seat by a window. She dug in her bag and pulled out The Phantom of the Opera and opened to the middle of the novel. One of the free baristas walked over and placed Breanah’s drink in front of her. The brunette looked up and thanked the girl as she turned the page. Absently she reached for the cup, her fingers wrapped around the plastic, bringing the cup to her mouth. The lid on the cup popped off, causing quite a bit of the drink to spill across her front.
“Shit” she mumbled, putting her book aside to find the napkins. Breanah began to rub furiously at the spot and cursed to herself for spilling her coffee.
When: Wednesday morning
Where:Starbucks outside of the news studio
Rating: PG, possibly 13
Breanah pulled her cardigan on as she left the news station, looking left and right before jogging across the street, narrowly avoiding a taxi cab as she touched the curb. The brunette tucked her hair behind her ears as she quickened her stride, the coffee shop quickly coming into view. Breanah stood back as the glass door opened, a suited man exiting the shop in a hurry, pausing only long enough for Breanah to duck under his outstretched arm to enter.
Breanah took in the scent of freshly brewed coffee and stood at the end of the line, glancing at the menu. Soon Breanah was at the register, her favorite barista greeted her with a large grin.
“The usual today?” he asked, looking for the standard list, “Not a coffee run?” she shook her head and glanced back up at the menu.
“Venti iced chai and a slice of lemon pound cake.” She told the barista before handing him her debit card. He slid it through the machine and smiled.
“It’ll be right up, Breanah” Breanah nodded and took an empty seat by a window. She dug in her bag and pulled out The Phantom of the Opera and opened to the middle of the novel. One of the free baristas walked over and placed Breanah’s drink in front of her. The brunette looked up and thanked the girl as she turned the page. Absently she reached for the cup, her fingers wrapped around the plastic, bringing the cup to her mouth. The lid on the cup popped off, causing quite a bit of the drink to spill across her front.
“Shit” she mumbled, putting her book aside to find the napkins. Breanah began to rub furiously at the spot and cursed to herself for spilling her coffee.
05 November 2010 @ 06:45 pm
Coffee Shop Soundtrack
Who: Breanah Davis and whoever wants a coffee
When: Wednesday morning
Where:Starbucks outside of the news studio
Rating: PG, possibly 13
Breanah pulled her cardigan on as she left the news station, looking left and right before jogging across the street, narrowly avoiding a taxi cab as she touched the curb. The brunette tucked her hair behind her ears as she quickened her stride, the coffee shop quickly coming into view. Breanah stood back as the glass door opened, a suited man exiting the shop in a hurry, pausing only long enough for Breanah to duck under his outstretched arm to enter.
Breanah took in the scent of freshly brewed coffee and stood at the end of the line, glancing at the menu. Soon Breanah was at the register, her favorite barista greeted her with a large grin.
“The usual today?” he asked, looking for the standard list, “Not a coffee run?” she shook her head and glanced back up at the menu.
“Venti iced chai and a slice of lemon pound cake.” She told the barista before handing him her debit card. He slid it through the machine and smiled.
“It’ll be right up, Breanah” Breanah nodded and took an empty seat by a window. She dug in her bag and pulled out The Phantom of the Opera and opened to the middle of the novel. One of the free baristas walked over and placed Breanah’s drink in front of her. The brunette looked up and thanked the girl as she turned the page. Absently she reached for the cup, her fingers wrapped around the plastic, bringing the cup to her mouth. The lid on the cup popped off, causing quite a bit of the drink to spill across her front.
“Shit” she mumbled, putting her book aside to find the napkins. Breanah began to rub furiously at the spot and cursed to herself for spilling her coffee.
When: Wednesday morning
Where:Starbucks outside of the news studio
Rating: PG, possibly 13
Breanah pulled her cardigan on as she left the news station, looking left and right before jogging across the street, narrowly avoiding a taxi cab as she touched the curb. The brunette tucked her hair behind her ears as she quickened her stride, the coffee shop quickly coming into view. Breanah stood back as the glass door opened, a suited man exiting the shop in a hurry, pausing only long enough for Breanah to duck under his outstretched arm to enter.
Breanah took in the scent of freshly brewed coffee and stood at the end of the line, glancing at the menu. Soon Breanah was at the register, her favorite barista greeted her with a large grin.
“The usual today?” he asked, looking for the standard list, “Not a coffee run?” she shook her head and glanced back up at the menu.
“Venti iced chai and a slice of lemon pound cake.” She told the barista before handing him her debit card. He slid it through the machine and smiled.
“It’ll be right up, Breanah” Breanah nodded and took an empty seat by a window. She dug in her bag and pulled out The Phantom of the Opera and opened to the middle of the novel. One of the free baristas walked over and placed Breanah’s drink in front of her. The brunette looked up and thanked the girl as she turned the page. Absently she reached for the cup, her fingers wrapped around the plastic, bringing the cup to her mouth. The lid on the cup popped off, causing quite a bit of the drink to spill across her front.
“Shit” she mumbled, putting her book aside to find the napkins. Breanah began to rub furiously at the spot and cursed to herself for spilling her coffee.
05 November 2010 @ 06:50 pm
Jeanette Sinclaire and the Chronicles of Sorority Initiation [Day Two]
Who: Jeanette “Ferrari” Sinclaire
When: Sorority Initiation week, one week and six days prior to school starting
Where: NYU Campus, Delta Phi Epsilon Sorority House
Rating: PG-13 (Mostly for language and sexual references
Day Two- Early Morning
( This was hell, by all means. )
05 November 2010 @ 06:50 pm
Jeanette Sinclaire and the Chronicles of Sorority Initiation [Day Two]
Who: Jeanette “Ferrari” Sinclaire
When: Sorority Initiation week, one week and six days prior to school starting
Where: NYU Campus, Delta Phi Epsilon Sorority House
Rating: PG-13 (Mostly for language and sexual references
Day Two- Early Morning
( This was hell, by all means. )
05 November 2010 @ 09:01 pm
[FACEBOOK]
05 November 2010 @ 09:42 pm
[Facebook]
05 November 2010 @ 10:14 pm
Jeanette Sinclaire and the Chronicles of Sorority Initiation [Day Three]
Who: Jeanette “Ferrari” Sinclaire
When: Sorority Initiation week, two weeks prior to school starting
Where: NYU Campus, Delta Phi Epsilon Sorority House
Rating: PG-13 (Mostly for language and sexual references)
( Day Three )
05 November 2010 @ 10:14 pm
Jeanette Sinclaire and the Chronicles of Sorority Initiation [Day Three]
Who: Jeanette “Ferrari” Sinclaire
When: Sorority Initiation week, two weeks prior to school starting
Where: NYU Campus, Delta Phi Epsilon Sorority House
Rating: PG-13 (Mostly for language and sexual references)
( Day Three )
05 November 2010 @ 11:58 pm
[FACEBOOK]