š² riley moreyes
beverly: is it mine
riley: let me check my calendar luv !
riley: ohh... it very well could be ..
riley: im calling maury to dispute this live..

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@rileymoreno
š² riley moreyes
beverly: is it mine
riley: let me check my calendar luv !
riley: ohh... it very well could be ..
riley: im calling maury to dispute this live..

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š² riley moreyes
beverly: what does that mean
beverly: why would you fry pizza
beverly: just buy pizza rolls and fry those little fucks its the same thing
riley: yummy yummy pizza pizza
riley: idk i get these weird food cravings
riley: maybe im knocked up!
riley: how great would that be!
witneyā .
Witney was about three cranberry and vodkas down, settling into the couch, crossing her feet and taking a moment to people watch.Ā The best part about California was that she could wear her spring and summer pieces just about year round.Ā And those were her best ones.Ā Opened toe shoes were always so much more comfortable, too.Ā A familiar face had sat down and immediately started talking, and Witney didnāt even process that he was speaking to her until the drink spelled on her.Ā Ā āHey!ā she exclaimed, standing quickly.Ā Luckily nothing got on her dress or shoes - heād be toast for that - but her arm was sticky and she quickly grabbed tissues from the nearest table to dry herself off, not sparing him any.Ā Ā āUgh, Riley, I donāt know, are you just telling me this to try and like⦠I donāt know, make me jealous or something?Ā I donāt care who else you sleep with.ā
witney still gives him butterflies in his stomach, that feeling heās constantly chasing -- like itās a high. rejection tended to do that to him, prolong the infatuation, turn his fragile heart into something of a game. he would never admit it, though, especially not to her. he didnāt WANT to still crave her approval. to still feel his heart skip when he saw her across campus, or at a ratty house party. they had just slept together, after all, and just once, and he hadnāt even spent the night. ( never mind the fact that he had been kicked out. )Ā āand i donāt care if you care who iām sleeping with,ā he snorted, and he sounded confident. like he was fully telling the truth.Ā āitās a good thing you donāt care, too. itās a pretty long list.ā he raises his brows at her, testing the waters, trying to get a rise out of her that heās not sure heās capable of conjuring.Ā
gregĀ .
greg can almost feel the blood rush from his face as he considers the option more seriously, leaning forward as he considers the girl. a feeling of dread blossoming in his stomach as he realizes that she isnāt touching anything or talking to anyone ā and greg is pretty sure he hasnāt seen her do either of things.Ā āoh shit, what is she is dead?ā and what was that things that is grandmother used to say about sprits, oh something about salt or banshees or ā oh.Ā āwhat if youāre next and thatās why sheās staring at you? dude, i donāt like the odds.ā
and thereās something off about the story, but greg ignores that gut feeling.Ā ābeing invisible would be cool, until you go to have sex. unless you find someone whoās also invisible or who is into that, i guess.ā and saying that, he wondered if there were girls that were into that. he frowns, lips pressing against each other as he thinks.Ā ādo you think if superpowers existed, thereād be like weird superpower fetishes? like how thereās people who like to be tied up, only with superpowers somehow involved.ā
he shakes his head, pushing away the offered money.Ā āitās alright man, should probably do laundry anyway. can hear my momās lecture about it from here,ā he replies, knowing that he doesnāt need the money. the mention of the coffee table almost excites him, happy to be angry for the other.Ā āthat coffee table is positioned in completely the wrong spot! i mean think about it, itās not centred to the room at all! anyone would run into it. although, you do bring up a good point about her. maybe she moved it, because where it is now used to be the center of the room.ā
he wants to tear his eyes away, to give greg a LOOK. something that will scare him. heās pretty sure he can roll his eyes all the way to the back of his head, classic possession, just the whites of his eyes, but he canāt break from his game. he feels like it means something, the intense staring, like itās less creepy and more intimate, but he isnāt quite sure.Ā āif sheās one of the horsemen of the apocalypse, maybe the end of the world wonāt be so bad,ā he shrugs, biting at his lip to keep from breaking a smile.Ā ādude. thereās a fetish for everything. havenāt you browsed pornhub recently?ā riley speaks knowingly but says no more. the beer has become a real problem, in his haste heās pretty sure he emptied the whole bottle into their laps and itās sticky and itās cold and itās downright uncomfortable.Ā āi bet i could jump on it and break it,ā he hums, suddenly transfixed on the table. he gets like that, when he has an idea formed. itās almost impossible for him not to follow through. heās always acting like he has something to prove, being in a band, wanting to be a rockstar. rockstars do things like this, smash tables at parties and ruin perfectly decent couches.Ā āit looks kind of sturdy but iām wearing really heavy shoes,ā he holds up a leg, revealing his black boot.Ā āwant to watch me try?ā
tessaĀ .
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā winter had fallen like a house of cards. one minute afternoons were spent studying on the quad, and seconds later the dark seemed to swallow the day up. december sunk itās teeth into her with a bitter chomp, and tessa found herself reflecting itās dreary atmosphere. āuh, i think itās weird that freddy kreuger junior literally just motor-boated a yule log and youāre still entirely⦠i donāt know, absorbed by francesca flat iron? but go offā¦ā tessa noted, watching with distaste as a sophomore licked chocolate from the butterfaced pudding smasherās cheek. there was a hint of something that edged on envy in her voice, but the tone didnāt quite reach it. it wasnāt jealousy she felt but rather a general disappointment in the utter obliviousness of men. her ass looked great tonight. she had worn her sequin-studded emerald green flares for that exact reason, and somehow not a single person had commented on them? it felt like a waste of a good outfit on a subpar night, most of which she had spent cross-legged on the sofa with a joint in her hand like some knock-off cosplay for the hookah-smoking caterpillar in alice in wonderland. āuh⦠i see her? holy moley, does that make me a ghost, too? orāĀ youāre the ghost, and i can talk to dead people like in that movie sixth sense⦠woah, iām not sure iām ready for that kind of commitā oh holy hellās bells!ā cut off by the sudden shock of beer against her leg, tessa let out an involuntary gasp and yanked her thigh away from his.Ā āwhaā why am i soaking? was thatā jeez louise. you spilled your beer? christ on a bike, iām so wet, riley, and itās your fault.ā itās only after the words had escaped her lips that tessa noticed the double entendre, her cheeks hot and pinched pink as she attempted to backtrack.Ā āi donāt meanā notĀ that, i mean⦠physically, like feel how wet i am! wait, fuck. like my leg, not likeā oh god.ā she felt sick in her stomach, chest tight as she tried to see the humour, but all she could really see was the sheer horror of humiliation staring back from her reflection in rileyās pupils.Ā āshut up. shut up.āĀ
heād loved her, once upon a time -- something he could say about more people than heād like to admit, feelings caught between his ribs, fluttering until paper wings burned up. heād stare at her from across a table in the library, envisioning a future together, art galleries and interlocked pinkies. heād write her letters, long ones, while she sat next to him trying to single handedly salvage his european renaissance grade, then crumple then up when the studying was done. all for the better, probably, when his passion simmered into admiration, head finally back square on his shoulders. it was comfortable now, to sit next to her and people watch, to fawn over others so openly that the old love didnāt find time to cross his mind. thatās just how riley was. tessa knew this by now. a romantic, of the hopeless variety.Ā āmaybe i would have been watching mr. kreuger, if he had been staring at me like this,ā a finger wags between himself and the aforementioned francesca flatiron, but his interest in her wains as tessa speaks.Ā āthat means iām, like, casper. some loser ghost that follows you around for all eternity. or until you help me with my unfinished earthly business, which, i believe, is landing that girlās number.ā his smile is toothy, a grin that warms his cheeks. āiām so wet, riley, and itās your fault.ā thick eyebrows skyrocket, words heād once dreamed about hearing leaving tessaās mouth, and he has to clutch his gut to keep from doubling over. he has to grab her shoulder to stabilize himself, laughter wracking his chest and he leans in, trying to look sultry. āi always knew i had that kind of effect on you,ā he purrs, winking before he throws his head back. heās reveling in her embarrassment, holding onto it longer than he should.Ā āreally bold of you, to announce it to the world like that. and in front of my new wife?ā he hikes a thumb towards the other side of the room.Ā āyouāre shameless! iām scandalized. if only the cameras had been rolling, so i could live in this moment forever.ā

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viktorĀ .
only half paying attention to riley - the other half keeping a watchful glare over the party, eyes sharp for someone of particular familiarity and demeanor falsely casual, slumped back into the couch as if heād been sitting there for ages - his eyes flicker towards the girl, then back to riley, comprehension surprisingly fast for his current state,Ā āyou mean my fucking sister?ā itās cliche - but he isnāt lying, evident by the way his eyes narrowed and voice lowered, body shifting more upright, tilted towards riley. he sips from his beer, sucks his teeth,Ā āchrist.ā viktorās silent - for more than a moment, just staring at the other like heād said something incredibly stupid, and then - āfucking - jesus christ -Ā ā he inches away as the beer soaks into the cushions, all too aware of it seeping through the side of his jeans,Ā ā - who the fuck says perma-ban? christ.ā heād never particularly minded the feeling of wet clothes against his skin - but this timeās different, and itās unbearable, and he canāt help but to stand up, face twisted into something similar to a sneer as he looks down at riley - mouth opening to say something, then hesitation, eyes a little too tired, before settling with, āare you fucking stupid? christ. christ.ā he repeats, hand tightening around his beer.
riley isnāt sure if heās joking, not at first. heās half smiling, having pulled his eyes away from the contest finally, trying to gauge whether he was in real trouble or not.Ā āgood one,ā he huffs, but his smile is falling and his heart rate is quickening. he wonders if the other boy can hear it, pounding in his ears. this is how people used to get beat up in movies, hitting on the wrong guyās family member, and it feels like heās back in high school. small, insignificant, a target painted brightly on his forehead. a sign taped to his back. KICK ME.Ā āare you-- cāmon. prove thatās your sister.ā he allows a glance back to the other side of the room, but the girl is gone. her outline is still tattooād across his eyelids, like when you stare into a light for too long. heās almost frozen, stuck in a situation he always knew heād find himself in, only he always thought the one to throw the first punch would be his brother.Ā ācāmon, man,ā he repeats the word, tone casual, aloof, but he knows itās a plea. he feels so small, sitting down, so he stands too, but it only makes him shrink further into his skin. heās well aware of his size. his stature. his punchable, punchable face.Ā āam i-- stupid? now thatās not nice--ā heās stammering, and god, yes! yes! heās fucking stupid! his brainās gone blank, his smart mouth abandoning him in his time of need, but maybe itās for the best.Ā āif youāre going to hit me, can you not hit my face? i know everyone says that, but i really, really mean it. i donāt want to be known as the funny guy. quite like being attractive enough to pick up guyās sisters from across a room.ā and the words are out before he realizes heās being a smart ass again, provoking him.Ā āwho knows, though. maybe she digs a black eye?ā
š² all contacts
riley: i bought one of those household deep friers so i could fry my pizza but i've made a grave mistake
rosaĀ .
Usually not one for attention - especially in the form of prolonged eye contact - Rosaās rule had completely changed when the other across the room from her had refused to take a hint. Heād been staring for so long now that sheād taken it upon herself to keep up with the intense look, so determined that she still stared with narrow eyes as she leaned in to speak to a girl she knew from her classes,Ā āHey - you know him?ā she asked, pointing obviously to where Riley was sitting on the couch,Ā āOh, yeah. His nameās Ryan, totally harmless. Cute too, right? I can set you guys up -,ā Instead of listening to her friend finish her sentence (considering it wasnāt what Rosa wanted at all), she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted across the room,Ā āHey, Ryan!ā Unsure if him dropping his beer was linked with her sudden shout, Rosaās eyes still widened slightly when she mumbled,Ā āAw, fuck,ā before making her way to the other side of the room, paper towels sheād snatched from behind her in the kitchen in hand,Ā āYou got butterfingers, Ryan?ā she asked, tossing the roll towards him,Ā āYouāre being a total creep. But the staring contest was fun.ā
āhey, ryan!ā the words echo around the room before finding him, and he has to furrow his brows in confusion only for a moment, before he realizes heās being spoken to. he offers a feeble wave back, unsure how to respond to someone whoās literally across the room and also totally wrong. she looks too excited by the knowledge though, like sheās been let in on a secret, and maybe he wonāt correct her at all. he could be ryan this time. ryan could have better luck than riley, it wouldnāt be hard. he catches the roll of paper towels with very little fumbling and begins to sop up his pants. most of the spill landed in his lap, and if it werenāt for the blackness of his jeans, he would surely be sporting a wicked yellowed stain.Ā ānot usually,ā he chides, smiling up at the mystery girl, finding his footing easily.Ā āi think you cast a spell on me.ā itās cheesy and itās gross but itās all riley knows. he laughs this time, thankful heās being called out and itās not mean, itās not soul crushing, itās light.Ā āi think you started it,ā he smirks, patting the spot on the couch next to him with a wad of paper towels still clutched in his fist.Ā āi could have lasted longer. foul on the play. i could go again, if you would tell me your name. you know, so i can keep score. iāll tally it on table, try and ruin as much furniture as i can before iām kicked out.ā
gregĀ .
ādude, sheās definitely asking the same question to herself right now,ā he replied, taking a swig from his own beer. grimacing slightly when he scrapes the teeth on his metal, it turns into a full on groan at the conspiracy theories that leave the otherās mouth.Ā āokay but those are both false given that i definitely see her.ā and the splash of liquid captures his attention and he lets out another groan.Ā āiām sure itāll be fine, itāll dry before anyone even notices! iām a little wet, and aw man, these are my good jeans.ā now he definitely had to do laundry.
riley leans closer to greg, like heās trying to view the girl from his perspective, see if itās true, if he really can see her.Ā āhave you ever seen sixth sense?ā he whispers, hauntingly, like heās recanting a horror story by the campfire and not asking a question about a movie in a house party.Ā āwe see dead people.āĀ his eyes light up and he breaks the eye contact to turn and raise both brows.Ā āmy brother convinced me i was invisible once. i got really excited and started running around with forks and knives and stuff, trying to scare everyone. still think it would be kind of nice.ā he appreciates the way the other tries to be kind about the situation. heās pretty sure his face has turned a deep shade of red, warmth spreading to his ears.Ā āfuck, here,ā heās pulling out the spare change in his pocket, a quarter and two dimes, holding it out for greg to take.Ā āuse this to.. well iām not sure if you can buy a pair of jeans with this but maybe itāll cover a load of laundry.ā he sometimes misses having a job, working long hours and providing for himself. but then he wouldnāt be able to sit on the couch and having staring contests with strangers, and how could he give that up?Ā āi donāt know whatās wrong with me today. i think i broke my toe on that coffee table earlier. possessed by the ghost girl across the room, maybe.ā
zekeĀ .
Leo.Ā He seemed to have a thing for unannounced parties and though he didnāt mind it, he still felt hosting anxiety. Sitting down next to the other, he blinked a few times at the question, glancing in the direction Riley was looking.Ā āUm⦠Maybe sheās shy. She probably wants to come over, but sheās too nervous,ā Zeke suggested. He hadnāt even noticed the spill until the side of his jeans were damp, quickly pushing to a stand again with a heavy exhale.Ā āItās ā God⦠I donāt own a shampooer,ā he muttered.Ā āItās fine. Weāll⦠Just let it dry.ā
āshy,ā riley repeated, mulling the word over in his head. it carried with it a history, one of houses full of children running, small legs trailing behind. lunch room conversations where others spoke on his behalf,Ā ādonāt worry about riley. heās shy.āĀ he wondered where that quiet boy had gone, whether he would be proud of the person he was today. tugging on the chain of his belt, he smiled, eyes still locked across the room.Ā āi peed my pants the first time i got on a stage. fifth grade talent show. i cried.ā his hands fly to the damp couch, surveying damage done but only managing to make things worse.Ā āfuck. are you the host? please donāt kick my ass. iām not trying to embarrass myself in front of anyone today. not much of a fighter. youāre a lover, not a fighter! my mom. youāre a disappointment! my dad. fun roleplay.ā so maybe heās an oversharer, and maybe he canāt shut himself up when heās nervous. but heās also clumsy, and that has to count for something, right?

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@elipax: https://www.claires.com/dw/image/v2/BBTK_PRD/on/demandware.static/-/Sites-master-catalog/default/dw1c1bd9d1/images/hi-res/25750_1.jpg?sw=734&sh=734&sm=fit they have earrings just like my testicles at claires
@smileyriley: @elipax i think we have the same std!