#thread 001.

[berisong]

ㅤ ㅤ Não era a primeira nem a segunda vez onde Haruto se pegava trocando de roupa no meio da noite, após o toque de recolher, para encontrar Sora fora dos portões da faculdade. Desde que o conhecera, aquilo vinha se tornando mais e mais frequente. Não ligava para as regras da instituição, e isso não era surpresa para ninguém, mas sempre que estava prestes a se esgueirar pelos pontos cegos das câmeras e deixar o campus para encontrar o japonês, se questionava até onde deveria levar aquilo. Talvez estivesse deixando ir longe demais, mas talvez também não quisesse admitir nem para si mesmo que gostava daquilo - aquilo, já não sabia o que era ao certo. Mas gostava. ㅤ ㅤ Depois de guardar todo o necessário nos bolsos da jaqueta escura, tomou o cuidado de olhar pelo corredor a fim de evitar alguém. Deixou o quarto em silêncio, o bastante para não acordar o colega já adormecido, e fez o caminho costumeiro até o lado de fora do prédio. Com ambas as mãos nos bolsos do casaco, andou com mais pressa até a parte de trás, longe do portão principal onde sabia que os guardas estariam mais atentos. Um pulo ou dois foram suficientes para fazê-lo alcançar o topo do muro, onde se segurou para poder pular para o outro lado da maneira mais silenciosa possível - o que não era muito, na realidade, mas fez o que pode. ㅤ ㅤ “Qualquer dia eu ainda vou me foder por isso,” Resmungou ao encontrar o outro rapaz, limpando as mãos. “O que a gente vai fazer hoje, hein?

[aquivxres]

starter     ⤍     @pctrchvr    .     zach  &  simone  .

“hey simon, in case you wanted to see what an A paper looks like, you know maybe get some pointers for when you get around to writing yours.” the boy said waving the paper he had just gotten back. getting A’s wasn’t exactly hard for zach, once he got the whole bullshitting down and peppered in what the teachers loved to hear it was A’s all around. zach knew this fact and his effortlessness to get A after A bugged the female in front of him more than anyone. He put his hand up for a high five knowing she wouldn’t give him one out of pure annoyance yet he couldn’t help himself. “don’t stress it too much, the pressure being on top isn’t for everyone.” he said smirking and winked at the clearly annoyed girl in front of him. 

[ofnate]

nate sat with his arm slung around the back of desirae’s chair, watching as their hired wedding planner  — an ironically divorced blonde in her thirties  — spread out small, rectangular pieces of cardstock across their dining room table. finally time to look at invitations, she explains with an enormous smile. nate is almost certain that he detects a hint of relief in her tone. although the two have not been actively planning their wedding for the entire six years that they’ve been engaged, the amount of that time they have devoted to things like touring venues and tasting countless cake flavors and testing out different fonts or color schemes on mock - up wedding invitations feels immense ( and occasionally endless ) to nate, who hasn’t even been present for every little thing like his fiance and their wedding planner. before the blonde had arrived at their los angeles penthouse apartment, dizzy had informed him that picking out the design of the invitations was one of the final joint decisions that they would need to make before the wedding. nate was fully prepared to second whatever she wanted, which has been his stance on most decisions throughout the planning process thus far. “ which one do you like ? ” he turned his head and murmured to dizzy, expectant brow raised. / @ofdesirae​

[skullsort]

@glittcrrp ( tumblr let me @ you please god )

sometimes he can tell when he’s going to have a bad night. sometimes it hits him in line at a fucking coffee shop at an hour before midnight, when it’s bitterly cold in february and he’s thinking of nothing, thinking of static, thinking of a crack down the center of his skull he can’t see. sometimes he visualizes his brain as nothing but code but then that’s too clear, it’s too understandable. so he thinks of it as a horrible fucking orb knocking against the inside of his skull, causing damage every time it collides with something, and yeah, okay, that’s more fucking like it.

stop doing that, says mr. robot. we’re here to get your goddamn girlfriend some hot chocolate to apologize for knocking on her door at midnight, not let you think about how you cracked open your skull once when you were eight and all the rational thought left and never came back.

you stayed, elliot doesn’t say. you fucking stayed. and you’re going to stay through this too.

the barista smiles at him when he gets a hot chocolate and a black coffee. she calls him a black coffee kind of guy, whatever the fuck that means, and elliot leaves before he can think too much about it. wasn’t thinking. forgot the cardboard sleeves, so his hands almost hurt by the time he gets into her apartment building. he sent her a text before he left his place, and he got a reply with a spelling mistake. so the math there is that he probably woke her up.

thus the hot chocolate. like a bribe. this is what he does when he feels guilty: he overcompensates.

he has to kick the door gently with his foot more than he has to knock. mr. robot is leaning against the wall behind him, just waiting for there to be no answer.

[carmendeluna]

Carmen had a long work week, she’d done several surgeries through out it and tended to several patients in between. A co-worker had gone off on vacation and she’d been working double in an attempt to keep everything balanced. After having hardly rested, Carmen had finally been forced to take the night off. It had been so long since she got a night completely off. That, of course, would’ve been great if Lucian had been home to cuddle with her, but no he had to go fishing with his grandpa. No matter how much his mom begged him to stay, he kissed her goodbye and ran off with his grandpa for the weekend. So Carmen found herself whining on the phone as her high school gal pal Gail reminded her about the dusty reunion invitation that sat somewhere in her mess of a mail drawer. 

It didn’t take much convincing before she was getting ready, Carmen hadn’t had a night off like this in a while. After Lucian had grown up a bit, she still hadn’t had time for dating or the night life. You don’t become a surgeon drinking Brandy with some dude trying to take you home. Factoring in her school, her crazy work our busting her butt to provide for her child and ultimately her child who meant more to her than the world. Yeah, Carmen probably needed this, as Gail tried to make it seem important. So she styles her dark mane and dotes on her face with mascara and lipstick as crimson as the blood she encountered daily. 

It’s with confidence that she throws on the little black dress that had been in her closet for over a year with the tags still firmly in place and the stilettos the color of her striking lips. She wants to look good, she wants to look as confident as she feels. Carmen had never liked the word sexy when she was young, now she wanted it to be engraved on her skin. She wanted to feel womanly, confident and dare she say it, sexy. After it all comes together, Carmen grabs her purse, her phone, and races out to her car. 

She’s not the first to arrive and she’s certainly glad she’s not the last. Someone would assume that she would feel embarrassed to be walking in alone, no date, no ring on her finger. That all, of the course, washes over when she realizes just how much attention she waivers, she wants them to know, if she wanted a man, she could have had him. Carmen was a single mom sure, but she was a provider. She was a doctor and she was going to be damned if society made her feel like she didn’t measure up. The woman catches up with old friends, floats around the room like she was the bell of the ball. She watches the eyes and the snickers, the looks and the whispers. 

I guess high school will always be high school, she thinks to herself as she magnetizes towards the bar. She’s going to need a drink or two to manage the rest of the evening. As she sits herself down in front of the sleek counter top, she orders a cosmo with a bright smile and it doesn’t take long for the cute bartender to plop it down in front of her. Carmen takes a deep breath, envisioning her younger self and the differences she now holds. With a prideful smile, Carmen takes a drink, still not believing she even came to this thing.

[ddorcasmeadowes]

“Potter. Oh, hey.” The girl’s voice peeks out as she notices him finally, her tiredness throwing off her usual observative tendencies. Dorcas had been out very late last night, sneaking back into her dorm had been quite the chore as almost everyone was starting to get up. There were certain benefits to being Muggle-Born, being able to party in both worlds was one of those benefits. Of course, the people back home were in Summer full throttle, she still had to crawl back into Hogwarts. A soft yawn escapes the brunette as she closes the book she was trying to read before he appeared.

“Sorry. Tired.” She spoke through the yawn, her glistening eyes turned to meet his. That action being the worst thing she could’ve done, him and his perfect eyes. Glasses doing little to hide the eyelashes she somehow always found in her dreams, who gave him the right to be smoking? Dorcas wanted to file a complaint. 

[suttonattwood-blog]

the softness inside of her was something that had hardened long ago -- a softness that she had once been desperate to give with open palms, a warmth that had been ignited by her blind naivety and sweet disposition, was one that was now hardly embers, yearning to be kindled into being felt. but her emotions were nothing but a dull ache, a reminder that she was far from who she used to be -- the girl who viewed the world through rose-colored lenses, seeing everything with a light that could have shone through an enduring darkness. 

‘sutton?’

it was an effort to listen, to respond to the address-- she felt like her heart was wilting in her chest, the petals of despair brown and crisp, reminders of the love she had lost. so she tries, pulls herself from the depths of her despair and finds that even ground, reminds herself that this feeling, this ache, couldn’t be forever. she engages, smiles and speaks when she’s meant to, dotes and plays the part she’s expected to. talks about her dancing with her best friend, gushes about the boy that’s meant to be healing her heart. and sutton plays it well that even she believes that maybe, just maybe, she’ll be okay. it’s when she’s on the cusp of hope, so close to feeling capable of bearing it, words that once would have spurred excitement ignited nothing but a fiery dread that made her choke on the flames of her longing. here. tyler, alex, mason, kennedy, and ... she couldn’t help but avoid the name. 

lyla was practically alight with her excitement at seeing her fiancé, the rest of the bridesmaids twittering like birds as they moved across the room, sutton falling behind. she couldn’t help but envy their bliss -- the way they must have felt nothing but happiness and joy for their friend, the first of them to marry. guilt curdled in sutton’s stomach at the idea of it, of how she was intended to be wed long before tyler had even proposed. so she follows with a quiet reluctance, the rest of the women far ahead, already having descended the spiral staircase leading into the foyer. 

and sutton doesn’t even have the chance to trail down the steps before she’s at the balustrade, her thin fingers gripping the rail as she sees him step over the threshold.

[valentinalibertad]

This isn’t her first LA party. It’s unlikely it will be her last. Still, Valentina is on her game. She introduces herself to those who are worthy of it, she hunts for her next project like a cougar and wears a smile that makes everyone think she’s here for fun. These parties were networking for her and she usually only ever let herself have a drink or two. Now as the night left and the early morning began, Val was more than two drinks in and she was feeling a little more light, a little less structured. She looks down at her phone, her social media notifications off the hook as the director who she’d been flirting with all night announces her as the next role for his movie. 

Hard work pays off and Val grabs one more drink at 3 AM as a celebratory drink. Her inhibitions lowered and suddenly she begins to sway back and forth, she would likely dance if someone asked her to. A couple of her A-List girlfriends come over to say congratulations and she's actually all smiling for once. She’s earned this and as the gossip and giggle away, Valentina drinks her last drink and thinks about maybe calling it a night. Maybe. Her eyes land on someone she hadn’t seen that night, he must’ve just arrived. She’d seen him once or twice, never bothered to talk to him though.