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texts || jude & jules

Jude: can I ask you a stupidly cliche question without you calling me a pervert?

Jude: you know what. i'm gonna do it anyway because i wanna know so it's ok if you think i am one.

Jude: what're you wearing right now?

#{{ DID SOMEONE SAY AWKWARD }}#sonhosus #;Judas #Jules

imessage ✉️ @ 😒 stronzo 😍

TRISTAN: okay, senior year felt pointless for you once you got into college too right?

TRISTAN: like my already nonexistent desire to go to school is somehow continuing to dwindle

TRISTAN: at the same time i have no fucking idea how i'm spending this summer

TRISTAN: anyway, how's my cat?

#fitz's name has officially been changed to asshole #and i'm crying because the eMOJIS #sonhosus #t:sonhosus #[ &; VERSE: IT'S A FAILURE BY DESIGN ]#[ &; VERSE: IT'S A FAILURE BY DESIGN (TEXTING) ]

@sonhosus

http://www.ew.com/article/2016/04/02/rihanna-work-chris-hemsworth-reads-lyrics

#Nyx; Cesc #sonhosus

texts }} cal & darbs

Callie: I'm gonna tell you something because it's weird, and you're the only one I can tell anyway.

Callie: So. I dreamed about you yesterday. Seemed only right to tell you since it was, y'know, you.

#{{ okay but the reason I did this is because I LITERALLY HAD A DREAM OF THEM LAST NIGHT LIKE WHAT #Callie's dream will be different though. just not sure what yet ahaha }}#sonhosus #;Calypso #Darby

@sonhosus

Tristan looked back at his car, hoping the kitten hadn’t managed to escape from her carrier. The black and white fluff ball (that he assumed to be some sort of birman mix, and had affectionately named Panda) had proven herself as quite the Houdini in the past few days -- and the last thing he wanted was a ‘surprise’ somewhere in his truck. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder in the form of an anxious habit; not a pad anxious per se, he was always anxious when it came to visiting Fitz. Though, Tristan would never admit it if you were to ask. “Hey.” It’s the first time in a week that he found himself genuinely smiling, and the muscles in his face are almost glad for the use. “I, uh - I’ve got one more thing to grab in the car,” he said, handing the other the bag on his shoulder.

#sonhosus #c:sonhosus #{ & | tris speaks }#{ & | verse; it's a failure by design }

iMessage → Tess

jay: i hope it's not weird to be hitting you up this late

jay: i was just wondering what you were up to

#sonhosus #I HOPE THIS IS OKAY .

◕‿◕

send ◕‿◕ to play with my muse’s hair.

Being in Darby’s presence is still a relatively new concept--one to which she has yet to become accustomed. Yet she’s never been one to shy away from human contact. Truth be told, she thrives on the nearness of another, especially if it’s someone she trusts not to lash out for it. Sitting on her living room couch and browsing the laptop with the man of eternal mystery by her side to allow them both to see the screen is more comfortable than she could have predicted.

After a while, her head finds its way to his shoulder in search of a makeshift pillow; a pillow that smells fantastic if one were to allow such a train of thought. Which she most definitely doesn’t. Definitely not. He hasn’t pulled away yet-- something Callie counts as a victory already-- and that idea is enthralling. Shrugging that thought aside, the end goal of finding a gift for his sister is focused on once more. Directions for how to knit what looks to be an utterly gorgeous sweater are what’s pulled up on the screen next, but before she can mention that it’s feasible for her to teach him how to do so, he offers the ultimate distraction.

One of his hands buries in her hair, gently tousling the strands in a move she’s positive has to be deliberate, and that closes her mouth as swiftly as it had opened. The fleeting thought of gratefulness over having used her expensive conditioner in this morning’s bath is as ridiculous as it is truthful, well-aware of how easy it would make it for him to avoid causing any tangles, as well as how it left behind the subtle scent of blood orange. That’s her favorite rather than his, as far as she’s aware at least, but it plays into her comfort factor regardless.

Callie’s always been a sucker for that feeling--who isn’t?-- so it’s no time at all before her hand’s lifted from the laptop and loosely curling into the fabric of his shirt directly over his heart like a content kitten kneading at its owner.