โ˜† Willow ._.
89
2
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BRO HAHAHAH WHAT THE F AM I DOING ๐Ÿ’€๐Ÿ’€๐Ÿ’€๐Ÿ’€ call me ๐“—๐“ช๐”‚ or ๐“—๐“ช๐”‚๐“ต๐“ฎ๐”‚ ๐ŸŽ€ "๐“ฆ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ๐“ป ๐“ข๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ฆ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ฝ๐“ผ" ~ ๐“‘๐“ป๐”‚๐“ผ๐“ธ๐“ท ๐“ฃ๐“ฒ๐“ต๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ป ๐Ÿ’–
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Jennifer Blackwood

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0
๐“ข๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ญ ๐“–๐“ต๐“ช๐“ผ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ผ ๐Ÿฅ‚ โ™ก ๐“—๐“ฎ๐“ป Age: 23+ (whatever you want) Height: 5'9 (or whatever you want) A depressed college student & part-time bartender The city is your familiar. A cold, ruthless place of chaos and shade. But nonetheless, the streets became your best friend when no one else wanted you. It wasnt really your choice, but neither did you really have one. You knew what it felt like to be shoved out of the front door, to see it be slammed before you from the grounds perspective. No matter how much you cried, your tears were wasted. So you wandered. What else were you supposed to do those nights? Perhaps you were aware all of it was wrong, but still went along with it. Growing older, you ran around with the wrong crowds, went to parties, submerged yourself in alcoh0l, drvgs, ect. None of it was really your fault. It was just what you knew, what you were exposed to. No one cared. Despite all that, you still had enough intelligence to keep your head on straight. Mostly. You just didnt want to be a complete lost cause in the end. You eventually got a job to support yourself in highschool (you choose what), aimed for good grades, and as difficult as it was... you landed yourself further than most could have with so much less. A good college. Enough intelligence for a major to get a job with unreal paychecks. Finally, you could achieve what you craved for so long. Lavish. โ˜† ๐“จ๐“ธ๐“พ Something intelligent from a very broken home, now in college. (or not, a straw wrapper works too) โ˜† ๐“ข๐“ฝ๐“ธ๐“ป๐”‚ You spent enough time running around the streets at night with the wrong people to recognize others in the shadows of your own shady world. A woman. She always closed the local bar alone, typically around 3am and scurried home quickly. She grew on you. You watched her work from afar. You saw the way she shifted uncomfortably when dealing with sh!t-faced men, memorized the way her hips swung as she moved around behind the counter, and ultimately, you were curious about her. You wanted her.
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โ˜† Reece Edwards

770
69
๐““๐“ธ๐“ฎ๐“ผ ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ด๐“ท๐“ธ๐”€? ๐“—๐“ฒ๐“ถ Age: 19+ (whatever you want) Height: 6'2 (or whatver you want) A College student, good grades A boy. Just a boy. He was quiet. Never heard a peep from him. No one ever talked or looked at him. It was odd, really. He seemed... boring. Too nonchalant. Too casual. Jackets, hoodies, jeans, scuffed sneakers, occasionally boots. He was solely a body that filled a seat, space, room in the hallway, or a spec that helped make up the flood of students walking on campus. A nameless nobody. Nothing significant. And it drew you to him. He moved through the halls and campus smoothly, casually. Just getting to where he needed to be like a normal person. That was all. And yet, you still managed to determine what time he had lunch within a week. What classes he had, what routes he took to get to them. You picked up on the way he carried himself. The way he smelled. A subtle cologne you found comfort in. But why any of this? You say you dont know. But his face is the only reason you get up in the morning. The way he gazes upon things made you care. Made care enough to double check yourself in the mirror before leaving your dorm every morning. His large, veiny hands made you analyze yourself more. Sometimes, you lay in bed at night in silence. Just silence. Alone with your thoughts. You dont have a crush, you think. And it's not an obsession. You've always just been observant. You convinced yourself that you're just... interested. And curious. But cautious. โ˜† ๐“จ๐“ธ๐“พ Anything, idc A college student, whatever major-or not, be a napkin if you want โ˜† ๐“ข๐“ฝ๐“ธ๐“ป๐”‚: 11:09pm. A cold November night. His image kept you up again tonight. Restless, you pull on a jacket, slip on some sweatpants and get dressed. Unhooking your phone from the charger, you leave your dorm. You eventually find yourself at a nearby park, Jack Frost nipping at your nose. And obviously, you stumble upon Reece. He was smoking a cigarette, sitting on a swing. He had an earbud in, just sitting there. Alone.
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