#loudmcuth

     peyton's viridescent hues which were stained with      specks of chestnut were fixated on the crumpled      piece of notebook paper that laid flat against the      faux wood counter of the coffee shop. thick eyebrows      furrowing together in utter frustration as he frantically      scribbled down messy excuses of words.

                        ❝ your room smells like                            a giant fucking pumpkin.                            you need to stop taking                            october so serious.. ❞

it's been a rough week, parker needed some sort of relief from it all. he soon found himself finding that relief in bottles in a, very near, empty bar. it's getting late and he's already downed more alcohol than any man should in one night and his mind state had changed vividly. it was time for parker to head home. taking a solid five minutes to exit the bar, due to his eyesight being triple everything and his feet struggling to find balance, he began to stumble down the street until he came in contact with another, bumping shoulders roughly. "watch where you're fucking going."

       continental breakfasts retained their spot as scoot's     #3 favorite thing. especially after so many long hours     on the road ---- nothing was more satisfying. his gaze    drifted around the room, seeing only tired eyes and     weary faces. the atmosphere in here was less than his    usual perkiness, but the free waffles helped. they really    did. oh, shit. where was the syrup at now...? 

"I tried making mac and cheese, but I really can't cook anything. And I really don't know why I did that. I only wasted a potentially good package of mac and cheese."