#ruhqstart

[lanamemories2]

The party had died down to an ember, cups strewn and people excused, but Lana remained perched on a kitchen counter, star-shaped sunglasses pushed up into her hair, no sign of leaving. Dawn trickled in through the open blinds. “Two lies and a truth,” she singled someone out, red grin springing. “Way better than two truths and a lie. Lying’s just, like... more fun, or something. I mean, it’s statistically proven -- like, basic science. Isaac Newton probably lied all the time.” After saying so, she pulled from a bottle of Merlot, tongue flush with grape -- kissing her would probably taste like a distillery with a hint of strawberry chap-stick, a sophomore theorised earlier. Correct, if it weren’t for her unwrapping an orange Starburst. “Wanna go first or should I?” She popped the sweet into her mouth, corners tweaking with an initial chew. “Can hold your hand if you’ve got stage fright.”

[allvrdsalt]

SMS ✉️ OPEN

griffin: check out this dope sunset pic i just took

griffin: shorturl.at/yJQT8

griffin: oh fuck sorry my finger slipped i didn't mean to send you that pic of me

griffin: i'm sooo embarrassed.... 🙈🙈😳 even tho it is a dope shot and my back muscles make me look kinda ripped

griffin: totally not staged btw i was just like stretching super casual and my friend (NOT MY GRANDPA) snapped a quick pic

griffin: anyways haha wyd

[duckyaltalt]

( @radopens​ )

Stretched across a beanbag - Ducky hadn’t been sure how long ago it’d been since he’d first joined the room, eyes glazing past the sunflowers that surrounded him and sticking to the painting overhead, instead. Someone had thought to mimic Starry Night on the ceiling - the stars pulsated, colors swirled - he thought he could name constellations in the painting, like there’d been any to begin with. “That one’s, fucking ... Cassiopeia,” he pointed up, towards nothing, head half-hanging off the beanbag and body sunken in - his perception skewed, “She uh - was a queen, once. Got strung up with the stars as punishment, though - fucking ... pissed Poseidon off, or whatever. Big fucking ego.”

[frvyas]

the frida kahlo room served as a transitory spot for most, to grab their drinks and then move on. two freshmen lingered, though, making their rounds from bowl to bowl, sampling each one, gradually losing balance, cross-eyed and all. “bets on who’s gonna go down face first tonight? personally, i’ve got my eye on the tall, lanky kid. he’s winced with every sip. definitely a lightweight,” freya ascertained, bringing her own cup of magenta to her lips. a tiny grimace followed, not yet used to its’ stringency -- might as well have been rubbing alcohol dyed purple. “twenty bucks he runs to the toilets or collapses. what’d you say?” @radopens​

[scrcna]

@radopens 

“my sister texted me for the first time in, like, two and a half months yesterday just to tell me that she hated my shirt in my latest instagram post. and like... first of all, it’s a bodysuit, and second, she’s practically a mommy blogger now. and i can’t think of anything worse, so don’t come for my content when i had to read about your kid’s baby food regimen yesterday.” she shrugged, studying her cuticles, “people over the age of, like, twenty-eight are boring anyway. so, i win.” 

[silascs]

open to: moris residents ( or if you can think of a reason why your muse would be around ! ) 

      it’s not the first time this has happened, but definitely the first time silas has been in this condition. luckily with his own bathroom and shower, he’s never had to worry about it –- but the hot water in his shower stopped had stopped working yesterday, and finally silas found himself required to enter the communal showers until they could fix it. one thing he wasn’t used to was taking his keys with him to shower, and by the time he’d returned to his door from the floor below with a towel around his waist, he realizes he’s left his keys inside. none of his suitemates are home, he knows that, and he’s not quite sure when any of them plan to return. a blush creeps up his shoulders and neck, all the way up to his cheeks when he realizes he’s locked out and in quite an indecent state. his choices are clear: go down to the main floor like this to get let in or send someone down on his behalf. with a grimace, he finds himself knocking on another door with his features already contrite. “ hey, uh –- i know this looks weird, but i forgot my keys in my room and uh, i’m locked out. ” not a great explanation considering there weren’t any showers on his floor. @radopens​

[lcofowler]

T-shirt peeled off ages ago in an attempt to clean the stain off it, it was obvious that whatever the jungle juice inside had consisted of stained well, and deep. It managed to also coat the white tank top he still adorned, but did nothing to stop the childish excitement on his face, stumbling onto the back patio of the party once he noted that someone was out there, “Got a party trick,” Biting roughly onto his bottom lip to hide a grin that would’ve bordered on insane, Leo waved a smoke bomb in the face of the person he found, “I watched a YouTube video on how to set these things off all at once, make it kinda explode - like, a literal smoke bomb. The video made it seem super cool. Begone, succubus!” Final exclamation unnecessary, Leo merely shouted it to set the tone, arm rearing back before smashing the plastic onto the patio. He’d expected it to crack open, for a plume of smoke to gracefully rise in quick succession - what he got was plastic ricocheting around them dangerously, colourful smoke rocketing up and into his face far more aggressively than he’d prepared for. Doubling over, Leo spent a few moments coughing dramatically before shouting over at his company, “Jesus, shit, fuck - it’s choking me from the inside out! It’s in my lungs! We’re done for - that wasn’t supposed to happen, YouTube did not give me any warning of that whatsoever. You alive over there?” @radopens​

[scige]

( @radopens​ )

there’s a party late tuesday night - so late that it’s no longer tuesday, and in fact wednesday, now, because - of course there is, lovell never sleeps; never truly, at least. maybe that’s part of the allure - haunts and late nights, sleepless in hopes of spotting mothman in the woods’ tall trees. it feels like the moon’s hanging lower than it should be - just above them, big and yellow and clearly visible outside the bathroom window. a bit ominous, maybe - but she always held disbelief when it came to omens. didn’t do her too much luck, that - maybe she’d be better off if she had believed, even a smidgen. there’s not much to believe in, lately - she thinks, unsteady hands, trembling hands, lightly tip-tapping a line onto the screen of her phone, dangerously close to the sink’s ledge. the door creaks. it’s a loud sound, above the muffled music - mac demarco, or something - it was that sort of party - it’s loud enough, sudden enough, that saige jumps; noticeable shriek, only a moment long, hand smacking into the corner of her phone, sending it flying - sending coke flying - her pupils are the size of saucers, “oh - wow - christ - it’s like, airborne. like - like, asbestos, or something, right?” she looks at the culprit - smile on her lips, now - like she hadn’t been startled at all. it’s wide and inviting, though her hands haven’t stopped shaking. “sorry that’s like - a lame joke, or something, right? totally insensitive. asbestos ... serious. serious shit. uh - anyways! i would - do you have to piss? god - sorry, i’m like - totally abusing my bathroom privileges. trying to - make use of time, i think.” she wipes her hands on her shorts - holds one out, as if for a handshake, but quickly drops it - swipes her thumb beneath her nose, instead; it hadn’t been her first line, evidently. “sorry - again, i just like - spent like, twenty minutes talking to this business student dude who like - always wears suits. shook my hand for like, ten minutes. think he’s like starting a mosh pit. seriously, though - do you, like - have to piss? i can - i can get out, or like - do you - do you want some?” it’s easy to know what she’s referring to, “i have more - i just, uh - have to like, set it back up.” her phone is still lost, somewhere, to the bathroom floor; the bathroom mat’s a shitty shag rug, and there’s the remnants of someone’s clothes littering the base of the toilet.