Joey Mason

[cvlebmoreno]

“so, i wonder,” caleb paused as he leaned back in his chair. “do babies have thoughts ? i mean, once they know how to speak, do they also start to think ? because i’m sure that before that all they ever think about is food and sleep, but once they know actual words, do they think about those words and about things that are related to these words ?”

@chatsworthinfo​

[jceymason]

“pretty sure i saw a study that said babies have conscious thoughts at the age of five months old. before that, their brains are just buzzing sort of trying to make sense of everything. no idea what the fuck they think about though...why are you so curious? you pregnant?”

[rhysdigsgraves]

* open starter // @chatsworthinfo​

‘ fuck, fuck fuck !! ’  was today’s mantra. from oversleeping, a terrible hangover headache, a lack of rolling papers to the grand shitshow finale – rhyland was locked out of the dorms without his access card, which was probably upstairs in the pants he’d worn yesterday.  his phone was dead from being out late studying, and not one person had walked by in ten minutes. an agitated growl is followed in quick succession by the sound of him raking his lighter against his thumb in a desperate attempt to light his last cigarette in what was turning out to be a torrential downpour. his only solace was just a foot of space on the frigid staircase where the wind couldn’t cut him in half while he waited for someone to walk to by, though it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting soaked. he exhales with a bitter slip of ‘ i fucking hate mondays. ’

[jceymason]

joey couldn’t remember the last time she actually took on the rain with an actual umbrella. she’s tried them in the past but she’d always FORGET ABOUT them and leave them in random places. even when she knew it was going to rain, she was never prepared. so she was drenched and cold but she didn’t mind. though it did make carrying the pack of white claws underneath her arm a little more tricky, wishing she’d had a bag or something. they were a gift. well an attempt to sweet talk her out of writing an expose article by some dumb jock. it was a valiant effort but her silence could not be bought. a smirk preyed onto her lips at the sight of the familiar other, “mondays fucking hate you too, it seems.” eyes narrowed for a moment before she pried into the box and grabbed a can, “think fast.” and she gently tossed it his way, “just call me father christmas.” was all joey said as she opened her dorm room door, “wanna come in?”