Oct 22, 2023
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☎ pls & ty
NAME: Smol ❤️
RINGTONE: Here comes the Sun by the Beatles.
PICTURE:
LAST PHOTO SENT:
Damon: My precious. <3 oh, and there's also you in the background.
LAST TEXT SENT:
Damon: Helloo, you should've been here twenty minutes ago??? Dogs miss you. I'm hungry.
✨😡
send ✨ for a random text from my muse
[March 2020]
Adrian: Cold by the Editors. Adrian: That was the name of the song. Fuck. I’ve been trying to remember since Saturday. Adrian: Add it to the playlist?
send 😡 for an angry text from my muse
[April 2021]
Adrian: Make smarter choices.
therealdamon: If one of your hosts tonight turns up late, @noraberkeley is the culprit. She’s pretending she’s me and the car seat is one of my ‘tooties’ that I’ll pick up at the after-party. Should be getting ready, but we’re on our way to pick up ice cream because ‘dogs want it’. #sendhelp
↳ INSTAGRAM: @therealdamon uploaded a new photo.
therealdamon: Guess who woke me up at 4AM because she had to practice her speech over FaceTime? If she messes up, let’s pretend we didn’t notice. #NotMyFault @NoraBerkeley
therealdamon: I’ve replaced @spencerberkeley with another Berkeley as my lunch buddy. We’ve would've invited you, too, mate, but we didn’t want to. @noraberkeley
closed starter for @snowcys location: shooters
The whole group was buzzing. Someone—Christian suspected it was Mitchell Rollins—had ascertained something absolutely fascinating: a bartender at Shooters had been an Olympic figure skater.
Everyone was trying to figure out who it was. Shooters was decently crowded, for a Thursday night; Christian separated himself from his group and moved closer to one of Shooters’ best bartenders: Nora. Nora was helpful, cool, and knowledgeable about drinks. Christian always tried to order from her when he could help it.
“Okay,” he said to her at an audible volume. He needed to be covert so that the other guys wouldn’t come over and listen in (this was because Christian didn’t want anyone hounding the unlucky bartender with an Olympic career behind them and seven drunk, rowdy dudes ahead of them). “Nora. I’m trying to figure this out—there’s a bartender at Shooters, allegedly—might not even be working tonight—who was a figure skater at the Olympics at some point. Isn’t that wild?”
He leaned in closer so that he could speak more quietly. “Now I know it’s not you, because I would’ve picked up on that ahead of time, right?” The alcohol he’d already downed was going to his head. His speech was not as distinct as he would have liked… That was fine. This was a bar. “I will do anything you ask if you graciously, kindly help me with this. Give me a hint: who is the figure skating bartender?”
I need to be romantic and like-
I can't-
im yearning
Me too, sis, me too 🥺
Cuddle your darling Maze for a bit 💕💕