📱 open
gunner: hey
gunner: did u happen to find a baseball cap at the game??
gunner: like not the ones being sold there it said daddy on it in shrek font
gunner: it's my proudest thrift store find i lost it during halftime when everyone was fighting
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📱 open
gunner: hey
gunner: did u happen to find a baseball cap at the game??
gunner: like not the ones being sold there it said daddy on it in shrek font
gunner: it's my proudest thrift store find i lost it during halftime when everyone was fighting

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“Hey,” Syd said, her hand catching the elbow of a passer by, “Can I steal you for like, five minutes?” Her tone was a little breathless, a result of racing through campus lugging an oversized portfolio bag, battling against its slam against her knees with every stride. The brunette smoothed down her hair, still wild from being trapped under her hat moments earlier, before unzipping the bag a little. “I’m gonna submit this later and I need to know if it’s any good.”
imessage ↬ open
lydia: UM HELLO SOS EMERGENCY
lydia: someone spilled their drink on my white chanel skirt that i paid SO much for and now i look like fucking carrie white
lydia: i can SMELL the copper it's disgusting i think im going into shock
lydia: i can barely type my hands are SO shaky
📱 open
teddy: werr hstthisi stunnnnn??
teddy: OMG
teddy: SLKDHGLKSHDGLKHSDLGKHSLKDHGLKSD
teddy: that wasnt english sry i wasnt lkin at my phone n im
teddy: monumentally inebriated.
teddy: i dnt even remember wht i was trying to say now lks around wildly like the answers will pop up in front of my face
teddy: fr some reason i feel like it had to do with steve buscemi n im not sure why im getting tht vibe
teddy: it must not have been tht important tho ignore this teehee
he’d only been back for a few days, managing to shut himself off in a motel room while the university made the necessary last minute accommodations he’d paid heftily for. ‘wait until next semester and we’ll have the perfect place for you, mr. montgomery!’ he vaguely remembers echoing around in his head, words that ultimately rang mute to stubborn ears. another day -- the mere thought of it made him SICK -- another second spent under his father’s roof was never an option. so he’d stay in the local motel for a few days. hell, he’d stay in THE SHACK if it meant he could be back in lovell. and he’d tell everyone he was back. eventually. when his stockpile of spaghettio rations ran low, or he spent every penny he’d stolen from his dad’s mattress and needed to start selling again. maybe then he’d scour the yellow pages, try his best to recall his friends’ and clients’ numbers, send a bitmoji to announce he was back. until then he’d walk to class, hood up. blend in as best as he could. it had been working, it had been working so well until the gust of wind, the powerful one that knocked his hood off his head and the joint out of his hand. he wished he hadn’t been on his hands and knees feeling for what was left of his smoke when he grabbed the foot passing by him. he wished he had been able to send a bitmoji first, when he looked up and his heart stopped and he realized the jig was up. “um. hey. i’m -- shit. shit. you don’t happen to see a joint laying around do you?”

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Basement of the party rattling upstairs empty save for Mercy himself, it was probably an odd sight, seeing him sat cross-legged on the coffee table with a giant plate of cupcakes to his right, considering it’d been a while since he was on campus. Already, there were some stuck on the icing side to the wall across from him, some fallen forgotten on the ground. Upon hearing someone coming down the stairs, he paused mid chew to stare at them, literally caught with his hand in a cookie jar, “What?” he asked, tone defensive, “Think they were for someone’s birthday. Got kinda bored - target practice, y’know?” Gesturing towards the wall where some still stuck, he was rearing his arm back in the next second, tossing the second half of his uneaten cupcake at his counterpart, if not just to see what would happen.
“ do you prefer sober sex or drunk sex ? pick one. ” in the company of many, it didn’t matter who answered her question. jetta shifted on the couch, turning to face another person, observing them like a feral animal would its prey. she would make a meal out of their attention. and in her current state of insobriety, that was all that mattered. “ no wrong answers. unless you say something real lame. i’m certified to call bullshit if you try lying to me right now. ” @radopens
Jenny looked straight out of a movie, her brows arched high and her lips pulled down in a comedically exaggerated frown as she stomped across the quad. But it wasn’t her ridiculous facial expression that was drawing attention, or even her melodramatic marching. It was the paint coating the entire front of her body from her hair to her shoes, effectively ruining both her favorite pair of jeans and her entire mood. “What?” she snapped, limbs flailing at a few people that had stopped tossing a frisbee to laugh. “You want a picture, assholes?” @radopens