piratejct

[piratejct]

jackfr0sted​:

she felt the rough calloused fingers wrap securely around her wrist and in any other instance she would have liked his touch, craved it but not here and not now. she set her features in a stern scowl, trying to mimic the same anger and frustration he was personifying. “don’t. touch. me,” she seared, making sure to pause in between words to communicate her seriousness. “cut the crap? have a conversation? i fuckin’ am but again you aren’t listening to me.” she wanted to kick and scream and cry. she would do anything to get adam to realize what she was saying. to realize why she was upset. “as far as i am concerned, i am doing the bare minimum. i am the one talking and you are stumbling over your words trying to keep up. well, that and being this stoic angry man who can compute the emotions i am professing to you.” she stole her wrist back from his grasp, holding the shaking bundle of nerves to the center of her chest. this sudden surge adrenaline fueled anger pushing her small fragile depressive episode to the side. 

“did you just ask me to spare you?” she repeated in disgusted shock, eyes squinting to near slits. payton studied his face as it contorted to realization, following his hands as they fumbled with the collar of his shirt. her voice broke into an amused cackle, head tilting backward in amused ecstasy. “what? nothing to say?” she challenged, talking a bold step forward to invade his personal space. she brought her left hand to wrap around his throat, forcing him to tilt his neck so she could look at the hickies again. “huh? real fuckin’ silent now, yeh?” she released her own grip, taking three giant steps backward to let space become her ally. her small semblance of confidence seemingly on a timer as she felt its embers burn out. “you do not get to ask me that question right now.” he didn’t have to know who lucas was. he seemingly knew everything else about her life and that was the sole reason this argument was happening. “i literally just told you the issue. i don’t know your birthday. i don’t know a fucking thing about you. i know fuck all. i have your name and that you smoke and like to fuck. that’s it. is that normal? is that a normal thing between two people? i thought there was more to this but i was wrong. and that’s fine. i get it now. you made it so clear to me right in this moment with the commotion and the defensiveness and the hickies and all of it. it makes sense. it’s fine.” she babbled on some more, nodding her head to convince herself of the truth. “are we done?” she repeated his words even more confused than she was before. the way he framed the question made it seem like there was something more to them. some unspoken emotions he also witnessed and felt.. “what is that? what is this we? elaborate. what is it that you want from me?” 

it was a question she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the answer to or not. a long exhale erupted past her lips as she searched his eyes, but she didn’t want an answer to her question. she was too scared of his reality of what he had built and promised himself for his entire life. she knew he thought he didn’t deserve her kindness or company. “i guess we aren’t.” though, she wasn’t sure.

RETRIEVES THE HAND EVEN QUICKER THAN he had extended it, the sternness in the voice making his eyes widen while they soullessly stare at her uniquely displeased face. didn’t think the day she’d finally look at him with an ounce of well-deserved disgust would happen before he let down the guard enough to fill her in on few messed up things from the past, but hey! look at him in action, fucking up possibly meaningful relationships by doing the bare minimum. takes balls to be so shit it genuinely becomes a talent. simon cowell would die for him. “t’s fuckin’ bullshit.” frowns when she accuses him of not listening, because- what the fuck, he absolutely is? he’s just struggling a little, that’s all. but he’s trying to hang in there! he really is. hasn’t entirely lost his cool, yet, despite being on the spot with absolutely no resources to grab onto, so.. that should give him some points. it could be much worse. right? right! it does, indeed, get worse when she basically calls him a stupid dickhead. well, not directly, but.. she’s coming for him, and quite frankly, correct assumptions about himself are not something he wants to be facing right now. “yeah, dude.” nonchalant as fuck, almost unbothered even though he definitely is. “fuckin’- got me there, i guess.” a humorless chuckle. 

his grave feels deeper with each second. figures it will make for a good night’s sleep once he’s done kicking himself over tonight’s events. hearing her cackle as if she’s about to either break down emotionally –– or, break his face –– has got to be one of the more uncomfortable things he’s experienced in the last few days. she must really fucking hate him right now.. doesn’t she? he’s almost convinced by the way she's rudely invading his personal space, exposing him for what he would’ve ideally not mentioned, ever. and she’s absolutely right. he’s got nothing to say in his defense, so he chooses to remain silent. isn’t quick enough to swat away the hand before it’s wrapping around his throat, manipulating the movements of his neck. in a normal situation, he would probably be impressed, perhaps even a little turned on by this sudden act of dominance on her part, but in this moment? he couldn’t be any further from impressed. looks down at her with certain bitterness, jaw set, head still slightly tilted to the side, even once she steps back. “what d’ya want me to say, huh?” well, definitely not what he then ends up coming up with. “i’m so fuckin’ sorry, payton-” mocks, which.. by the way is completely unnecessary at this point. “aside from you, i’m screwing at least four other people. is that what ya’ wanna hear? are ya’ fuckin’ better now? fuck’s sake.” casually nasty. christ, she should’ve strangled him when she had the chance. the fact she refuses to tell him about this mysterious lucas, or tony, or whatever dude sets him off despite him having done completely nothing to deserve such information, but he doesn’t push the subject, eventually just rolling his eyes a bit and throwing out a blunt little “whatever.” goes back into silent mode when she actually spills the beans, directly fills him in on why they’re having this conversation, and finally... it clicks. apparently knowing a lot of stuff about another person doesn’t make for a stellar relation when the other person doesn’t know shit about you. who would’ve thought? certainly not adam, who, by now, may or may not have convinced himself it’s too late anyway. he’s already fucked up big time. there’s no going up from here. watches her while she speaks, bit frantic, but blunt enough to make him feel some type of way. “right.” acknowledges after a moment of silence that only paints him as an even bigger idiot. “no, guess t’s not.” a simple shrug. “normal, i mean." 

‘what are they?’ is another topic he’s not majorly excited about, the idea of even trying to explain how his heart might beat a bit faster whenever she’s around too far-fetched for him to even want to put into words. doesn’t want to expose himself completely, let her in on this secret that could easily be none of her business. “oh, christ- simmer down.” it’s a tough call, but in the long run, he really wants the girl to be happy. which.. he knows she won’t be if she ends up emotionally involved with him. seriously, all she’s got to do is just ask around. it’s common knowledge that a fair 90% of his exes hate his guts, and.. more power to them. payton’s a good person. deserves good things. with that mindset, he comes up with a new game plan, which involves blowing up everything he’s been trying to work towards in just a couple of words. “nah, okay, fuck- actually j’st.. forget it.” shakes his head, even after she sounds like she’s willing to give him the chance. “uhh, y’know what?” his stomach suddenly in knots. “don’t think i can do this, my guy.” corners of the mouth twitch up into a brief, apologetic smile that’s somehow supposed to soothe the blow for both of them. “i mean, this is... not gonna work.” even if he really, really wants it to. broken guitar pick digs into the skin of his palm, the sinking feeling he’s become so accustomed to washing over –– almost addictive, the way it drowns him in an in an instant, familiar mold spreading through the otherwise empty lump of skin and bones. “you’re a cool girl ‘n all, but.. we’re j’st not on the same page, ‘m afraid. sorry.”  

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ADAM & PAYTON . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - A . B . #whoa adam rly said #its time to ~ self destruct ~ #catch me waiting outside his house w few torches n a pitchfork >:( #im sry i h8 this i do #and also dont match length bc once again #im on crack

[piratejct]

𝐒𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔          thinking he’s the hottest shit @ irving’s founders festival. 

#irvingevent002 #ik i only put one chain but hes probz wearing like 3 #also loads of rings on the fingers #n a fake golden tooth x #bling bling bling baby #christ hes so #:/ #what is this rapper fantasy #grow up

[piratejct]

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈        being one hell of a babe™ @ irving’s founders festival. 

#irvingevent002 #it was jst chillin in me drafts so #here : )

[piratejct]

𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐔𝐄𝐑       not looking like an absolute maggot @ irving’s founders festival. 

#irvingevent002 #got inspired #might redo this at some point who knows #adam in a cap is my new aesthetic #also #purple shades cuz he's feelin funky

[piratejct]

goldsfm​:

                  the  bantering  back  and  forth  between  oldest  and  not  oldest,  always  the  same.  roles  are  easily,  and  often,  reversed  between  the  two  of  them.  it  wasn’t  hard  to  be  the  responsible  adult  when  in  the  woman’s  presence;  bar  was  set  nearly  on  the  ground.  no,  it  was  completely  on  the  ground.  blue  eyes  roll  at  brother’s  comment  and  she  leans  further  back  in  her  seat.  “could  just  tell  dear  ol’  mum  to  fuck  right  off.”  she  suggests.  both  siblings  know  it  won’t  happen.  there  is  too  much  to  lose  should  the  matriarch  cut  one  off;  a  free  bed,  the  cash  that  rolls  in  on  what  seems  like  a  constant  basis.  what  else  would  fuel  her  100  vices?  grin  cuts  through  otherwise  dull  features  as  a  small  box  is  fished  from  overflowing  purse  before  her,  a  cigarette  placed  between  chapped  lips.  “aw  puppy,”  she  muffles  around  it.  “is  mommy  not  letting  you  wear  your  big  girl  pants?”  she  smirks,  then  a  flame  licks  up  the  dart,  which  she  inhales  from.    “haven’t  been  to  the  aquarium  since  i  was  like  fuckin’  ten.”  a  lie;  she  went  last  month,  high  as  a  kite.  that  was  a  wild  ride,  but  she  doesn’t  remember  it.  “fine,  fine,  whatever.  i  could  use  the  cash  anyway.”

THE HYSTERICAL CACKLE he lets out at the suggestion could be enough to startle an entire neighborhood, knees brought up to the chest, slender arms wrapped around long legs, preventing them from just flailing, frantically. folded like a cheap ikea chair, he now looks at her with this usual, near feral glint in his eye, chin rested on top of a bony knee. “and then what?” sounds almost invested before straight-up laughing in her face. “sleep on the pier until a kind-hearted stranger with alluring blue eyes gives us below-average paid jobs in an ice cream truck?” there’s great seriousness behind the words that remains even as he goes on. “i can’t work in customer service, allison. i’m sensitive.” and a massive momma’s boy who’d literally die without homecooked meals every single evening, but that’s a story for another day. bottom line is.. he knows better than actually going against their mother, as tempting as it may sometimes feel. watches as she fishes out the cigarettes, body falling back onto the couch as a greedy hand extends in her direction. the excitement for a possible nicotine shock is however murdered the second she starts rudely mocking him. “she’s being a silly cunt,” eventually admits, though making sure to lower his voice a notch in case their mother’s lurking around. “but i’m at peace with it. sure, i may have considered sabotage; blowing up the van, releasing venomous reptiles into her bedroom at night, hanging myself from the ceiling fan, but... you know what? i’m not gonna do it. because i’m a team player.” yeah, that’s right. he’s the fucking man. squints at the statement. “no, no- i think you went last month?” corrects, because suddenly he’s her manager. “high as a kite. remember?” doubts it. so, he moves on, clapping his hands when she finally decides to go along. “delightful! we’re meeting for further details in,” looks at the imaginary watch, securely wrapped around his wrist. “two and a half hour. don’t forget your balaclava.” 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - S . A . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - SID & ALLISON . #suicide mention tw #drug mention tw #an au where this reply didnt take me like a month

[piratejct]

goldsfm​:

                    “  SO  CALL  AGAIN  ?   bitch ,  this  is  not  a  one  call  kind  of  deal  .  solid  three  rings  ,  three  times  before  you  give  up.  i’m  hurt  ,  truly  fuckin’  torn  up  that  you  gave  up  on  me  so  damn  easily .  what  the  actual  fuc –  “   hands  come  up ,  pressing  over  his  chest  as  mock  offense  is  taken  and  he  steps  back  from  the  other .  always  one  with  a  flare  for  the  dramatics ,  he  flicks  his  head  to  the  side  in  attempt  to  flip  hair  that  is  too  short  to  be  flipped .   the  last  few  words  out  of  the  brunet ,  however ,  have  him  pausing  in  his  spot .   lips  purse  and  he  quickly  glances  to  him  from  the  corner  of  his  eye .  “  it  better  be  so  much  good  sex ,   you  have  SO  MUCH  to  make  up  for ,  baby  boy .  “   he  takes  a  deep  breath   and  moves  to  straddle  the  other’s  lap .   “  fine  fine ,  let’s  go .  “   kiss  pressed  to  the  other’s  forehead before  pulling  away  to  look  at  him  again.  “  speaking  of  drug  abuse ,   we  best  tonight .  “  

INSTANTLY PLAYS ALONG, gasping at the other’s entertainingly dramatic performance as a dainty hand moves to rest over the heart. “oh my god, emily?” heartbroken, disappointed. “i can’t believe you’re, like, totally yelling at me right now?” he isn’t, but that’s entirely beside the point. “what if i couldn’t call you because i was literally being chased?” says as if it actually happened. “my life could’ve been in so much danger, and you wouldn’t even know, because you’re too busy being a salty little bitch... bitch.”  hands are now placed on the hips, legs crossed, shady sound effects playing in the back of his mind to complete this almost reality tv worthy showdown between two dance moms. the faux stern, dramatic expression softens when the interaction takes a full one-eighty, hazel hues rested on the other, flirtatiously playful smile spreading across features. “uh, yah, duh? as if i’d ever not deliver.” allows himself to gloat a little before making space in his lap for the brunet to shamelessly claim. manicured hands wander down the other’s chest, head tilting back. “you’re gonna be so in love with me by the end of tonight.” assures. “i prommy.” makes sure to sound completely serious, not cracking until a soft kiss is pressed to his forehead. nose scrunches up, the smile only growing, chuckle escaping when the subject goes back to drugs. “well.. i’m on a no-carb diet, so i only do marijujijana, but.. i can totally, like, seductively run my fingers through your hair while you’re popping molly in the scuba bathroom.” offers, like a good girlfriend would, fingers now running through the boy’s brown locks, as if to demonstrate. a moment of almost casual intimacy, before he’s gently tapping the other’s chin. “okay, bitchy- off now. we have to get all dolled up.” 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ELIAS & CRISTIAN . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - E . E . #drug mention tw #not the gays being extra again

[piratejct]

jackfr0sted​:

she finally takes the time to look at him. to really look at him. her grey-blue oceanic eyes studying the worry lines in his face, taking note of how good his button down hawaiin shirt clings to his body. she almost wanted to reach out and rub his frustration away with the pads of her fingers, peppering kisses across his cheeks as she mumbled a string of apologies for being stupid or a bother or weak or pathetic or vulnerable or just all of the above. almost. then she saw them. she saw the deep dark purple welts peaking from the collar of his shirt. the mix of bruised reds and eggplant purples that weren’t from her own sexual advances. they weren’t her kisses that marked his skin. he had been with other people. he had been with others. not her. and it shouldn’t have been a surprise. it really shouldn’t have. it shouldn’t have made her eyes water and bile climb up her esophagus. it shouldn’t have made her ball her fists even harder so that her nails made deeper impressions in her palms. the jealousy was nearly palpable but what could she realistically do? bring it up in an already tense conversation? paint herself as some crazy ex girlfriend when they weren’t even officially together? they had agreed to this the second they became friends with benefits. she was fine with it. was she? her hands began to tremble from the anxiety of it all, the soft music playing in the background feeling octaves too loud as it pounded against her eardrums. she remembered her first toxic relationship and how rhysand had told her she was too clingy and suffocating. was she being the same way now? yes.

switch it off payton. just switch it off. your mother could do it, you can too. she pulled her sleeves even further over her hands, completely engulfing them behind the fabric of her clothes, hiding the way they were shaking from the confrontation. “m’ not upset,” she whispered inaudibly. she looked around the room like a deer in headlights, feeling the simmering stares and mumbled whispers. she was making a scene? she didn’t think she was. was she? “’m not making a scene. i’m not crazy-” it felt like there was a hidden context to his phrase, like her propositions were painting her in a certain light. “i am talking to you but you aren’t listening.” her stomach hurt. her breathing was irregular. and was it her or did the walls of the room suddenly get closer? like everything was just caving in. it came down like a wave and then there was nothing. just numbness. her pupils dilated, face void of further emotion as she tried to mimic mannerisms she had learned from her drugged out mother. 

she clasped her hands in front of her chest and smiled brightly. “you are not even worth the calories i burn talking to you.” that was the jealousy talking. yup, definitely the jealousy from the hickie reveal. “look adam,” it was almost scary how calm and calculated her voice had become, like a disassociation had occurred just as her body’s defense mechanism to protect herself from a full on panic attack. “this one is on me. i looked too much into our relationship or friendship or whatever. that is my bad. won’t happen again. you’re free to fuck whoever ya want as i clearly see has happened. i think your foundation shade is light for the future if you want to do something to cover up your neck,” she waved her sweater clad hand over her neck in demonstration. “you could also use a cold spoon and apply to the area to spread up the healing. anywho, yeah. glad that’s cleared up. that’s that. ‘ave a good night ‘nd birthday. would love to stay longer but i left lucas at my place and he promised to have a star wars marathon with me so cheers again. loved seeing you. love the shirt. you look great, yeh?” she sidestepped pass his tall frame, reaching for a glass in a strangers hand. she didn’t know what was in it but she had assumed it was alcohol. she couldn’t quite understand why she felt so self destructive in that moment, especially stealing the red solo cup and lifting it in the air in a proper cheers fashion. “let’s hear it everyone! happy birthday to you,” she initiated as everyone joined together to sing. “happy birthday to you. happy birthday dear adam. happy birthday to you.” the room erupted in claps as payton tilted her head backward and downed the contents in the cup like she had seen many of her friends do before, her father and people on television. she so desperately wanted to contort her face in disgust at the taste but she didn’t to prove a point. stubbornness runs miles. that was her first drink, ever. “cheers,” she said in unison to the party goers, holding the empty cup in the air as she motioned toward the exit. 

"UH, YEAH? YEAH, YA’ FUCKIN’ ARE!” argues, even though he really, really doesn’t wanna be that guy. hates those guys –– these stupid assholes who assume you’re feeling some type of way because your voice sounded a little pointed when you declined the three for two avocado offer. but in this case? he knows he’s onto something because, despite his phd in being a dense piece of shit, he can genuinely tell she’s not having a blast. “so, cut that crap, please, and let’s try to have a fuckin’ conversation, maybe?” from the way her eyes progressively turn a different shade of sad to how she’s clenching her little fists as if she’s ready to either magically evaporate or punch him straight in the jaw. he deserves it. prefers it, if anything. would rather walk around with a busted lip than have to watch one of the only people he has brought himself to genuinely give an ounce of crap about suddenly seeing him for the fuck up he’s always been.  he’s making her anxious, and that’s making him anxious. it’s like the mirror game you’d play in theater, if the mirror game you played in theater made you feel like a nasty scumbag. there’s a  genuine sense of helplessness behind blue eyes as they watch her every move; how she’s kind of trembling, how her expression constantly hints she might burst into real tears. now, he’d have to slit his throat if that happened. bringing your crush to tears by, as far as he’s concerned, doing the bare minimum? god, would that make him hitler, or what? briefly considers running off, hiding somewhere, dying under unknown circumstances. sadly, his feet are nailed to the parquet, body stuck in this compromising position as he lets the universe give him a villain edit in his own living room. 

“didn’t say ya’ were.” shakes his head, denying immediately, as it’s the truth. roll the tape, folks! he said some mildly hostile things, but.. not once called her crazy. it’s the last thing he wants to do - get so carried away he accidentally pulls his least favorite party trick of calling someone something they aren’t in order to either simply insult them or momentarily take the heat off of himself. would especially hate to do it to her. can you imagine? calling your crush an idiot, or something? so yeah, he’s trying not to jump into the blunt insult pool. does that give him a lighter sentence? brain denies with a string of foul words that only add to the cracks on his already thinning wall of self-confidence.  “i am talking to you but you aren’t listening.” she claims, and he’s suddenly left without arguments, as all of the things he feels like he wants to say in that moment refuse to come naturally. don’t give up on him. please. “are ya’ kiddin’ me?” a more unpleasant alternative. “no dude, you’re absolutely fuckin’ not. you’re j’st- sayin’ a bunch of shit,” that’s one way to put it. “‘n- ‘n when i try to fuckin’ ask about it, you tell me nothing’s fuckin’ wrong!” frustrated by the impotence, starts involuntarily becoming more and more stand-offish. wishes that he could know exactly what’s going through her mind, that he could have a cheat sheet of all the right words to blurt out to put out this fire before it gets to the curtains. but instead of water, he seems to mistakenly reach for a bottle of turpentine. “y’have to work with me, payt. can’t read your fuckin’ mind.” 

and then.. cue the switch in mood. watches as she goes from near crying to almost manic, the seemingly happy smile like a knife in the gut, the words that follow only twisting the blade until it’s millimeters away from the spleen. can’t believe she’d say that. but most importantly? can’t believe he’s so offended by it. “jesus fucking christ, man. fuckin’- spare me.” a defensive scoff, the underlying malice something he genuinely doesn’t seem aware of. and then she goes off. and boy, oh boy, was he not prepared. first of all, he wasn’t even aware of the stupid, ugly shirt he had put on earlier suddenly betraying him like that, the top button undone, exposing just a little more skin than he would’ve wanted to show tonight. the damage is done - it dawns on him while he awkwardly tries to close the thing back up, all while listening to her beauty guru advice on how to cover up hickeys and other potential-relationship-ruining marks. christ, he probably looks like such an idiot. all wide-eyed, painfully self-aware, no longer feeling nearly as intoxicated as he would like. can’t manage a word, giving her the microphone, letting her tear into him in the fairest way possible. by the time she’s finished, he’s absolutely dumbfounded, speechless, wouldn’t even know where to begin. so much that could be said. he could try to defend himself? maybe explain? say something encouraging? he’s got few seconds to think about it, make a decision. “who the fuck is lucas?” is the verdict, delivered with faint hints of bitterness that’s in no way reserved for a man like him. got no right to be feeling jealous, and yet there he is, feeling jealous. though, it’s nothing compared to the nausea that spreads through his body the second she grabs the cup from someone’s hand. jaw tightens, eyes set on her  –– partially challenging, mostly pleading. don’t do this, girl. so much for not making a scene. tenses up the second her voice fills the room, followed by countless pairs of eyes, digging into his soul. and suddenly they’re singing for him. smiling at him. laughing, while his windpipe is full of maggots, guts detaching themselves from their designated spots, diving and dissolving in the sea of stomach acids. can he call an uber? clenches his fists, lips pressed into a thin line, trying to form something that could pass as a semi-smile, to trick the audience payton has suddenly let in on their private little shitshow. feels exposed. could implode. and then- snap. it breaks in his balled up hand- the guitar pick, sweet memories of three minutes ago, when everything wasn’t on the way to fucking hell. fuck. “fuck!” hisses, just as she finishes downing what he can only assume is her first alcoholic beverage, ever. and guess what?! she drank it because he pissed her off just enough! what a talent. an honor! the self-destructive man now making everyone else self-destruct, too. “wait-” the second he feels like the party has moved on from feeling the need to celebrate his questionable existence, he makes his way towards her, free hand grabbing her wrist. “so-” there’s a lump in his throat, in his mind, in the pits of his stomach. “so, what’s happenin’ now? are- are we j’st.. done, then?” asks a question he might not like the answer to. “j’st, fuckin’... that’s it?” don’t say yes. god, don’t fucking say yes. 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ADAM & PAYTON . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - A . B . #death mention tw #implied self hatred tw i guess #anxiety tw #bitch fuck off this is literally #1176 words or smth #i dont even know what im DOING #hlep

[piratejct]

cfmysterys​:

“hmm…pretty   sure   i’d   file   that…under   none   of   your   fucking   business.”   she   quipped,   whipping   her   head   his   way   and   allowing   the   comment   to   linger,   expression   stone   faced   before   a   grin   fell   onto   her   lips.   she   was   joking   but   their   relationship   these   days   was   rocky   and   you   could   never   be   certain   with   what   sort   of   cal   you’d   be   dealing   with.   cal   was   fast   to   grab   the   towel,   using   it   to   mostly   tend   to   wet   locks   that   were   sticking   to   her   neck,   “nah.   i   drank   too   much   and   did   things   i’d   probably   regret…if   i   could   remember   them.   honestly   the   night’s   a   fucking   blur.   what   can   i   say?   YOLO.”   she   twisted   at   her   locks,   draining   and   watching   as   the   water   dripped   to   the   floor,   “do   people   even   say   that   anymore?   YOLO?”   the   young   drifter �� turned   so   that   her   back   was   facing   him,   peeling   off   her   wet   shirt   and   using   the   towel   to   create   a   make   shift   shirt   that   was   sloppy   but   it   did   the   trick,   “and   fuck   yeah.   you   know   i’ll   always   take   coffee.   remember   when   you   used   to   sneak   me   some   when   we   were   younger.   cause   i   wasn’t   allowed   it   cause   i   was   “too   young”   but   you   were.   back   before   everything   got   fucked,   huh?”

“OH.” DEADPAN, HIDING THE FACT he’s mildly taken aback behind a nonchalant facade, joyless eyes studying her features for something that could confirm whether she’s pulling his leg or not. can never be sure these years. a humorless scoff when she eventually cracks a smile, but he’s definitely relieved. to a certain degree, because.. while it might be mean to say –– since she’s, like, his actual, real-life sister and stuff –– cal’s got that special ability to just make him feel disgustingly uneasy in under six seconds. can he blame her for it? no. but can he cope with it? well... also no. not really. brows furrow slightly at the brief mention of her night, not too elaborate, but who is he to dare asking for details? brother of the fucking year? “right.” concludes, a near pain-ridden grimace appearing at the fine combination of her bringing up the word YOLO and carelessly getting water all over the floor. charming. must run in the family. “fuckin’- wipe that up.” vaguely gestures towards the puddle, tone too casual to match the hostility of the words before he’s moving on to the next point. “y’know what? i don’t think they do, but- i mean,” huffs. “don’t be lettin’ that get in the way of your fuckin’ aspirations, i guess.” a joke that’s delivered so poorly it sounds like he’s legitimately on crack. “y’want a shirt?” offers, figuring it could be more comfortable than waltzing around the place in a towel. gets another mug from the shelf, reaches for the pot of freshly brewed coffee, slowly but steadily making himself comfortable in his own home. glances in her direction when she oh-so-innocently brings up semi-childhood memories, the faintest of smiles just about to creep onto chapped lips when- oh. jaw sets, blank orbs now looking through her, stomach sinking, but just a little. “uhh, yup” as casual as he can make it before he’s turning away from her, figuring if he looks at the mugs for long enough he’ll feel like less of a godawful person. seconds of silence. then, clears his throat. “d’ya take milk?” with the coffee, he means. 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ADAM & CAL . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - A . B . #drug mention tw #oh my GOD #fucking #gET HIM GAL

[piratejct]

jackfr0sted​:

this was precisely what she was afraid of. maybe she should have just put these polarizing feelings of self doubt in the far depths of her mind. she could have easily shrugged it off and joined the party as a carefree spirit she often liked to portray. of course she would be the only sober person in attendance out of her own stance on alcoholism but she could still have fun. she could have danced and mingled and maybe have seen adam for a minute or two if he wasn’t busy. she didn’t want to be a bother. she would only steal him away if he wasn’t busy. who was she to get in the way of him having fun at his own birthday party? but it was like all her prior resolve flew out the window. this conversation between them was happening. she couldn’t stop it or delay it because it was happening right here and right now. 

her heart lightened at the slight praise or maybe gratification of her below average birthday gift. she knew he probably didn’t expect her to pick up on the fact that he played guitar so it felt like a win in her book, especially hearing the defined sincerity in his thanks. the lightheadedness was so fleeting. it was like a willowed breeze that the femme wasn’t sure if she felt or not. it was like a ghostly presence she doubted if she saw correctly.

not only that but he laughed. he was laughing at her. and sure it may have been a short laugh but there adam stood with a dumbfounded expression and his hearty laugh. the blush that deepened the pale skin on her cheeks was not one of endearment or lust but shame and embarrassment. she knew he wouldn’t react kindly to her excessive babbles but to laugh at her? christ, she really was pathetic. how stupid of her to feel like he owed her something as simple as knowing his birthday. how stupid of her to feel like he owed her anything. just friends who fuck, got it. but didn’t friends know each others birthdays? okay, so “who fuck” is all that remains. payton pursed her lips together in a thin line, nails digging into the palms of her hands as she took a calming breath. “yeh,” she agreed in defeat, shoulders slumping as far as they could go. “m’not that big of a deal.” her accent always seemed to get thicker when she was either on the brink of tears or the cusp of an argument. “fucks sake. god forbid i know more than ‘avin ya dick in ma mouth, right?” there it was. the realization that all payton was to adam was another emotionless and pointless snog. “it isn’t about your birthday and if you can’t see why i’m upset then it doesn’t matter.” she clasped her hands together in finality, eyes searching for the nearest escape route because her breath was becoming uneven and panic prinkled the back of her neck. “happy birthday again! have a great night and i’ll see you around. cheers.” a lie. a flat out blatant lie. she needed to get away from him because she knew she messed everything up and she couldn’t bear the repercussions. she would rather process the finality of never seeing him again alone in her home than in a room full of strangers.

SEEMS UNAWARE OF THE SIZE OF THE HOLE he’s digging himself into, filthy hands clinging onto the metaphorical shovel, frustration becoming progressively clearer as he stands still, surrounded by piles and piles of dirt. and the worst thing is, he genuinely isn’t even trying to be a dick. he’s... a little befuddled, that’s all. didn’t expect he’d have to deal with not only a solid thirty plus strangers in the house, but also an absolutely uncalled for confrontation with the girl who coincidentally happens to be his crush, but hey! it happens! it’s happening! so, happy twenty-ninth, baby! naturally, it’s everything but. absolutely loathes the way he thinks he’s making her feel, the look in her eyes suggesting he might currently be just about the worst person in the room. while normally it’s a badge he wears with pride, pins to his forehead as he establishes himself as public enemy number one, right now.. it’s not necessarily a look he wants to be going for. sadly, appears unable to stop. the monthly subscription to emotional constipation, light intoxication and compound brainrot has been renewed: no cancellations allowed after 8:30. groans at her response, managing to sound bothered when he’s actually trying to be everything but, eyes widening slightly when she blatantly brings up.. blowjobs? huffs, free hand running through the hair. yeah, at this point she’s totally implying he doesn’t give a shit about her and only wants to shag, but.. much to her dismay, the moths in his mind are too dismantled to grasp such a concept. maybe because he knows it’s not true? and why would she even think that in the first place? he shows her tiny hints of affection.. sometimes. does he not? is he maybe completely fucking awful without even realizing it? “what is this shit?” mutters under his breath, to no one in particular. 

would be lying if he said his blood doesn’t boil a little when she pulls the ‘if you don’t get it, then you don’t get it’ card. can’t stand that shit, because hello, newsflash everyone! he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. little to no self-awareness. good morning. expecting him to just know where something went wrong is a rookie mistake. sometimes you just gotta be blunt: ‘adam. i hate you because x and x and x.’ it’s really not that hard- saves a bunch of time, but most importantly, lets him know exactly how he fucked up. and that’s great! allows him to dive right into the pool of denial and momentarily block out any memories of him doing said things. “well, nah-” there’s more annoyance in the tone than concern, even if the latter is the stronger emotion between the two. “i’d say it does fuckin’ matter, don’t ya’ think? ‘cause- ‘cause, y’know, y’seem really fuckin’ upset all of sudden.” keeps firing bullets into his own foot, all while wanting to make things right. he’s trying, even if it doesn’t come across. “wait! don’t.. go- fuck. jesus. can you j’st fuckin’- stop.. all of this.. for a second?” leans a little closer, lowering his voice. “we don’t have to be makin’ a scene, yeah? j’st.. talk to me, alright? why-” wishes he was better at choosing words carefully. “why are ya’ actin’ like this? payt, for fuck’s sake-” 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - A . B . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ADAM & PAYTON . #im . sorry if this is very #~ incoherent ~ #its an artistic choice i didnt make #there might be some triggers there #im not sure #i dont #rememebr what i wrote

[piratejct]

jackfr0sted​:

her hands snaked their way around his torso as she pressed her cheek against his right shoulder, sinking her weight into his embrace. “hey,” she breathed out, though she imagined it came out more of a mumble when spoken into the fabric of his shirt, but the vibration was enough to reciprocate the greeting. her nose immediately crinkled at the familiar smell of alcohol, stomach curling in disgust as the rest of her body tensed further in its presence.  flickers of her father’s drunkenness revealed itself after ever flutter of her eyelashes and whiff of a cheap beer. she sunk back down to the balls of her feet, evading his gaze for a moment longer than necessary. it was a party for crying out loud. mingle! her inner voice practically screamed, begging her to fake normalcy. “happy birthday,” she sing-songed, grabbing his hand to outstretch his palm. she dropped a guitar pick into it and folded his hand over it, brushing her thumb across his knuckles. to the natural eye it might have looked ordinary, like a normal guitar pick. maybe it was just ordinary but payton had spent a solid three hours at a music shop down orion avenue picking it out. it wasn’t anything special other than being made out of carbon fiber and having adam’s initials engraved into it. it wasn’t much. hell, would anyone even classify it as a birthday gift? she was hopeless in deciding what to get him and it was so last minute. the second she let the pick fall into his palm, she realized how stupid this all was. how stupid the gift was. how stupid she was. all she had to work with was that she knew he played guitar or at least she saw the instrument in his apartment.  it had looked used and worn out enough that she concluded he played. “i couldn’t wrap it or anything…” she trailed off, pulling at the sleeves of her sweater. “or i didn’t have time to. i-” she paused. “why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” anger flashed in her irises, a deep pool of frustration embedded in her features. “we’ve been, well i don’t know. we’ve been in each other’s company for a while now and i don’t even know this one thing about you. i don’t know anything about you. i should know something. i should know this. i should be able to think of a better fucking gift than this. i should know you.” a pathetic laugh tumbled passed her lips as she brought her attention to literally anywhere else in the room. “i should know your birthday.”

THERE’S A BRIEF MOMENT WHERE he can’t help but feel like she almost doesn’t wanna look at him. that, right there, should be the second red flag, an indication that something might be wrong. adam however, like the big ole oaf he is, chooses to make nothing of it, because... maybe she’s just nervous? yeah! it’s.. a big party. a loud party. no reason not to be nervous. hell, he’s fucking nervous, too! a little tipsy, sure, but.. is it enough to stop him from mildly shaking in his boots every now and then? just barely. maybe they can go be nervous together? that could be fun. they could go to the backyard, sit at the picnic table, with him chainsmoking a quarter of the recently bought marlboro gold pack and her making funny faces of disapproval while she tells him about her fantasy of becoming thor himself. perhaps she’ll hold his hand a bit. maybe they can even share sweet little kisses and look at each other with some kind of meaning while he pretends his collarbones and chest aren’t covered in bruises from just about two nights ago, when he met with a certain miss delphine cotterill for a late-night drive. christ, it’s a good thing he’s wearing a shirt. 

actually goes as far as offering a medium-sized, genuine smile at the birthday wishes, but brows furrow the second she reaches for his hand. however, he follows the lead, the direction, opening his palm and partially waiting for her to, like, give him a low five or something. she doesn’t. instead, she leaves him with a teeny, tiny object that stirs up... confusion? “oh?” how did she know he plays the guitar? can’t help the puzzled expression that creeps across harsh features, brows knit together, but despite the brief cluelessness, he truly feels flattered she would take the time, even if only few minutes, to get him something. “thank you.” manages, surprisingly sincere, meeting her gaze again. is just about to smile again, a nasty habit he’s developed around her, when she suddenly starts near.. apologizing for not wrapping the gift? “nah, dude, pfff-” shakes his head, trying to dismiss any and all concerns. “you’re fine, it’s totally fine, i didn’t even fuckin’-” expect gifts, so thank you so much for being so thoughtful and perfect and always very, very nice to me  — is what he could’ve said if she didn’t drop the b-bomb. “what?” begins, brows raising but expression remains more on the amused side. “ah yeah, man, i-” is about to explain how he didn’t really tell anyone, how this is a ridiculous situation and absolutely not what it looks like, but doesn’t get the chance before she’s taking things a step further, suddenly going on a rant he would’ve never expected. doesn’t even know how to react, so he just stands there, completely dumbfounded, trying to figure out what’s happening. lets out a short laugh, almost as if he’s hoping she’s actually punking him. “is-” tries to look her in the eye. “is this for real?” another forced chuckle. come on, now is the time to say you were joking. do it. payton — fucking do it. “wait, wait, whoa- hey.” uses the hand that’s not currently holding onto the guitar pick to awkwardly rub the side of his face. “hold the fuck up. what are ya’ even sayin’ right now?” god, he didn’t mean for it to sound so crass, but frankly, he’s getting bit frustrated. confused. “what, are you-” pauses for a second. “are ya’ offended ‘cause i... didn’t tell you t’s my fuckin’ birthday?” makes it sound like the silliest thing he’s ever heard, which is probably not helping his case. “’dude, t’s not a big deal, yeah? hell, i wasn’t gonna tell anyone.” 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ADAM & PAYTON . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - A . B . #um #okay #so #this actually got bit longer than i wanted so .... #uh #pls feel free to respond only to the second part <3 #today on list of ppl i love: #you #n the list of ppl i hate with passion: #adam

[piratejct]

jackfr0sted​:

it was his birthday. how did she not know it was his birthday? the blonde had only found out about it through a text, asking if she was going to adam’s party. then there was follow up evidence of the orchestrated event through vague tweets on social media irving residents shared popping up on her timeline. so there payton was, shimming past drunken bodies and exchanging pleasantries as she tried to locate adam to give him her best wishes. however, she couldn���t quite shake the anger tensing up her muscles at the sheer ignorance of such an important staple in a person’s life. she didn’t know his birthday. this then stirred a snowball of other doubts. she realized she didn’t know a lot about him. he knew countless boring and unimportant facts about her life and she didn’t know the first thing about him. therefore, even though she had joined the party with good intentions, she couldn’t shake the feeling that an argument was about to happen. @piratejct​

IF THIS WASN’T HAPPENING AT HIS OWN place, he would’ve gone home a long time ago. has been hanging out in the living room, stiff against the wall, roleplaying as a piece of furniture for well over twenty-five minutes now, while two unnamed partygoers try to include him in a funny story he can’t bring himself to find particularly amusing. has a hard time figuring out how he found himself in this position to begin with, having never given anyone an exact birthdate, never even hinted that he was, in fact, ever born. but someone found out. so, now here they are, happily celebrating the twenty-ninth year of toxic waste. chugs remains of the fourth... maybe fifth beer, leaving the empty bottle to rot on the windowsill for the rest of the night. is just about ready to head into the kitchen for another one when a familiar face catches his eye, puts everything on hold for a solid few seconds, before he eventually leaves the conversation he was never really a part of. without a word, he makes his way across the room, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he approaches. “fuck- hey.” brief, simple, but still more at ease than he’s been almost the entire time. arms wrap around her frame, pull her body closer, hold her in his embrace in what might be the second most genuine hug of the night. “good to see ya’, dude.” pulls away, though not entirely, calloused fingers now moving to gently tuck a blonde lock behind her ear, but the more he studies her expression, the less he knows what to make of it. “uhh, you.. alright?” 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ADAM & PAYTON . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - A . B . #self deprecation tw #i guess #lol are u ready #idk if im ready

[piratejct]

cfmysterys​:

“so   i   passed   out   on   my   ex’s   fucking   lawn   and   he   turned   the   fucking   SPRINKLERS   on.   anyway   how’s   your   morning   going?”

@irvingstarters​

"YEAH? ‘N THE FUCK WERE YA’ doin’ there anyway?” suddenly acts like he’s the headmaster of healthy relationships, having never made the mistake of going back to the person who’s certainly no good for him. cigarette between teeth, hands reach for a clean towel he ends up chucking her way. a nonchalant shrug at the question, waves it off before he can get into the details of yet another sleepless night. “y’want some coffee?” 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - A . B . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ADAM & CAL . #! !! ! ! !! ! ! !! #my name is #excited

[piratejct]

cfmysterys​:

“okay   so   hey…”   they   flashed   them   a   dimpled   grin,   puppy   dog   expression   already   evident   on   their   features,   hoping   to   distract   from   the   news   they   were   about   to   drop,   “don’t   freak   out…but   i   sort   of…crashed   into   your   mailbox.”   chocolate   orbs   flicker   to   the   scenario   in   question,   scotty’s   decked   out   retro   van   now   had   a   mailbox   as   a   hood   ornament.   it   didn’t   look   like   much   damage   was   done.   calliope   had   been   through   a   lot   though   their   mailbox   was   now   on   the   ground.   “can   i   make   it   up   to   you   by   buying   you   a   drink?”

@irvingstarters​

(**it doesn’t have to be their mailbox! scotty could be mistaken.)

"OUR.... MAILBOX?” blinks, stunned because a. there’s a legitimate hot person at his door, and b. he wasn’t even aware they have a mailbox. a half-apologetic smile, dainty hand raised as if to excuse him for a second as he turns his head to the side. “boys?!” calls into the house. “do we have a mailbox?” seconds of drawn out silence. it dawns on him that no one’s actually home, and suddenly, he can’t help but feel awkward. “i see...” clears his throat, dainty hands nervously wrapping the silk robe around slim figure, covering up the suddenly unpresentable outfit of some shorts and a crop top he had decided to put on earlier, back when he wasn’t expecting crush potential number one on his front porch. great, not only does he look like he just woke up, but he’s also presented himself to be someone who finds joy in yelling in empty spaces. offers a warm, though almost sheepish smile, deciding to actually step out and take a look at the damage. “um, okay, so-” begins, a soft chuckle after he’s estimated the situation. hazel hues glance at the other, but not for too long, as he might just melt. “that’s actually.. not ours. yah, i think we literally haven’t had an actual mailbox since, like, the 1940′s.” offers, traces of his signature dumb valley girl voice squeezed in there for the extra spice to the otherwise casually presented joke. don’t get me wrong, he’s still nervous as fuck, but as they say in the showbiz.. fake it till you make it, kid. “aw.. i’m sorry for, like, disappointing. gosh,” shakes his head. “i should’ve totally pretended it was mine.” nods towards the broken mailbox. “that could’ve been so romantic, like, would you imagine?” a faux-dreamy sigh for the real dreamy guy before he’s flashing a soft, genuine smile. “but, i mean... we can still have a drink, though.. if you’d like?” 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - E . E . #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ELIAS & SCOTTY . #elias said 🥺 #bt pls #feel so free to shorten this xx

[piratejct]

perishedsoftly​:

his words seem indignant in the way they’re so vacant and it calls up an urge, hot and thrashing in her gut, to prod a touch harsher. press him enough to leave a bruise. she’s bored, now that the ache and twitch of cold in her muscles resides and her head’s flicked off the autopilot in wait. a turn of the wrist at a dial and the radio’s on, a yammering of sports commentary and baroque and late-night news and aphex twin that sets her jaw on edge. “yeah, ‘course you don’t give a shit.” she parrots, adam in the corner of her vision when the syllables drawl, an expert pause to gauge his reaction. the soles of her tennis shoes, a touch muddy and plenty scuffed, kick against the dashboard. the drumming’s as febrile as her heartbeat. “i don’t wanna go back to my place.” there’s a streetlight by her window that keeps her awake long into the night. a sense of domesticity and static to the apartment complex that makes her more restless than she’s used to and the four walls lie in wait to swallow her up. “take me to yours. i’ll crash on the sofa, whatever. unless you don’t want me to, do you?”

a taunt, more than a question; whether he’ll let her scab off of him again, say nothing but show everything in his expression as she works her way through froot loops and a six pack in front of the blue of a television screen airing ren and stimpy reruns. “it’s so fucking boring there. like, my neighbour takes her kids to school at seven and i always hear them. nothing like a solid eight hours.” a half-lie. she’s dead to the world by then, slathers the pity on anyway to get adam until he bends far enough backwards to snap in two. he hasn’t caved to her, yet, and the challenge stays unspoken and bitter in her mouth. her feet tuck under her knees, cross-legged on the seat and clicks the seat belt in. “you going to leave, or just sit there and let that weirdo cop give you bedroom eyes from his smoke spot?” her chin jerks towards the officer outside the station, shivering in the cold and fumbling with a zippo. “think he likes you.”

THE SUDDEN ROAR OF the overly pumped-up voices on the radio hits like an avalanche falling on a tranquil village before sunrise on a tuesday morning. mere seconds in, and he’s already experiencing some severe sensory overload, body stiffening up, heart jumping out of bed, running four miles after having tossed itself out the window. jaw tightens, hand flying in the direction of the problem, but instead of simply lowering the volume, switching the thing right off. quite aggressively, too. hell, if he gave his all, he could probably break it with one hit, establishing all sorts of dominance, while possibly even making her all hot and bothered in the process. what a power move that would’ve been. too fucking bad he feels like a rotten little ratling tonight. “jesus fuckin’ christ.” mutters under his breath, eyes completely blank when they finally glance at the girl. a low hum at the comment, barely an answer. squints, brows furrowing slightly before he’s returning to his favorite hobby; adamantly staring into the void. 

“nah, dude.” shoots back with a scoff, no second thoughts on that one. it’s well late, and she’s an insolent hag. unpredictable, shouldn’t be left unsupervised. he’d have to be a new type of moron to let her sleep in an open space, such as the living room, where she can roam free and wreak havoc around the house. “you’re not sleepin’ on the couch.” and while it might be exactly what she wants to hear, adam makes sure to deliver it in the least inviting of ways. "don’t need my fuckin’ roommates seein’ ya’, first thing in the mornin’.” to be fair, they probably wouldn’t mind too much. both jules and mido strike him as fairly laid-back people, but still. he wouldn’t feel comfortable being the guy who just moved in, and is now letting random people crash in the common spaces. especially if said people got out of mini-jail five seconds ago. “mhm.” sounds disinterested in the story, calloused fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “sounds like y’should shoot ‘em.” offers with equally little enthusiasm, other hand on the gear knob, though tremendously low effort put into driving them out of there. blinks when she calls it out, blue orbs briefly focusing on the cop he had been mistaking for a trashcan the past moments. bit awkward. was that guy there the whole time? adam pretends he was totally aware, all along. “fuckin’ yeah, maybe?” bedroom eyes. scoffs. “what if i don’t wanna go, huh?” challenges, “maybe i j’st wanna stay ‘n, y’know, suck his massive cock. wanna wait for me?” humorless, flat, but gets him to finally start driving again. as they’re leaving the parking lot, he turns on the radio again, lowering the volume a notch and changing stations. settles for some obscure 80′s pop, rolling down a window and reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. one for the road. 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - A . B . #nsfw-ish lol #bt not in the way u think #murder mention tw #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ADAM & DELPHINE .

[piratejct]

#* ( 𝗩 𝗜 𝗦 𝗔 𝗚 𝗘 ) - A . B . #kisses adam on the cheek #happy bday maggotboy <3

[piratejct]

cvastals​:

Furthest thing from an expert in this field - in anything medical, really, but he’s up and talking, making jokes if anything. The bleeding doesn’t seem too active either, nothing overly concerning. She’s high enough for her brain to immediately take flight, set at a running pace to match his tone - at least the version of his tone that she’s hearing in her mind, everything so exaggerated she might’ve assumed they’d stepped into a Looney Tunes segment, “Didn’t take anything but your dignity, right?” she corrected, teasing, suddenly hopping back, hand dropping from his face so she could hold both of hers in fists - fighting stance completely off, wobbling with it, but to Lara she figured she actually came across as genuinely tough, “Alright, tough guy, gimme your best shot. I can take ya down, guaranteed - I knocked out this girl’s tooth in 8th grade. It was, like, my proudest moment. What she gets for being a total cunt though. Were you a bully in school? I feel like you were the super quiet but cool kid - like, no one messed with you but you weren’t popular. And you actually stood up for the bullied kids. I have the sight, Adam, you can be all grumpy whenever you want, but I see your big loving heart right there,” Dropping her stance to poke gently at his chest - more so the center than where his actual heart would be, though she had meant to aim for the left. It feels like she’s won something, when he accepts her offer for vodka - her entire core goes warm with it, smile widening more if possible. It takes up so much of her face her eyes are all but swallowed by it, vision blurring until she forces herself into a more neutral expression - pursed lips, doing a terrible job of hiding how pleased she is, maybe even giving her away more than before. Rolling up comically long sleeves clumsily, she reaches into a pocket inside the denim to tug out a full flask - a bonus gift that came with the jacket she’d stolen. Semantics, “It’s watermelon flavoured. Not too fruity for ya is it?” Taking a generous swig herself, mouth pinching at the taste, before holding it out to him. While he’s still clutching the flask, Lara does a full 360 - gathering her bearings, after being distracted on an attempted walk home - before taking off in the direction of her place, “Alright, c’mon,” she calls over her shoulder, “I’ll clean ya up at my place, better booze there. My mama’s gone on a business trip, she won’t even notice. Did you know she’s taking 3 weeks off for my birthday? ‘Cause it’s my 23rd - champagne birthday,” Rambling a mile a minute the way she did, spinning on her heel to face Adam, beginning to walk backwards - brows rising expectantly, “You coming? Can’t walk around looking like that, Adam - you’re still pretty but it’s, like, illegal. I’m officially declaring it’s illegal now. I’ll get you an Uber after, my rating is excellent.”

GETTING LOWKEY ROASTED BY a tiny lady on a fuck-load of drugs is not something he thought he’d have to put up with tonight, but.. there they are. sure, sweetie, just kick him while he’s already on the ground, on the knees, ripping his jeans while crawling through piles of metaphorical cow shit. dignity. pff, what dignity? vaguely remembers trading it for crack behind one of these containers for used clothing, around ten years ago. “right.” replies with a nod, brows lifting slightly, indications of amusement behind naturally sullen eyes. “thanks, lara.” but of course, no actual offense taken. watches as she goes from floaty seventh realm type of ghost person to a mortal kombat character, a lighthearted, though barely audible huff making it past his lips. “nah, you’d fuckin’ kick my ass. my wrist's ‘bout to snap off, man- ‘m practically on the death bed.” nonchalantly admits defeat before they can even get started. though, it’s not as if he was actually gonna engage in battle with a person significantly smaller than him. realistically speaking, he could probably judo flip her right there, even despite the current conditions, but... it wouldn’t be a fair fight. and, it wouldn’t be a fun fight, either, because at the end of the day, he genuinely doesn’t mind lara- even if half the time he feels like he can barely keep up with her. it’s as if she’s the lively person going for a morning jog, and he’s just now on the way home after having drunkenly napped in a dumpster, pantless, with yoghurt in his ears and rats hanging on his socks. listens to her rambling, making assumptions about him right to his face, painting an image that couldn’t be any further from the truth. cool? he was never. however, like the awkwardly mysterious sack of shit he is, he doesn’t neither confirm, nor deny. instead, appears mildly confused, trying to process the words enough to figure out which part to address first. eventually, decides on none, instead taking his shot at a casually blunt joke. “yep- no, man, i was such a fuckin’ bully. yeah, j’st fuckin’- bullied everyone. kids hated me. went to juvie twice.” remains deadpan, even when a dainty finger pokes at his chest, respectfully gentle, seemingly aware that anything above 76% force would cause a brief, dull ache somewhere within. her beaming smile, while probably considered infectious in the eyes of people who don’t have a hard time genuinely expressing their emotions, happens to be about enough for his own expression to soften up a bit. all he did was agreeing to some booze, and she’s grinning as if the universe is worth a while. it takes balls to be so openly joyful, even when on drugs. “like your jacket.” notes, matter-of-factly, deciding there’s something mildly pleasant about the way the whole piece kind of just hangs on her body, few sizes too large. watches her take a gulp of the liquor, briefly wondering how much of it she’s had combined with the pills before a crimson-stained hand reaches for the flask. “t’s fine.” decides. watermelons are chill. “‘s long as it’s not fuckin’ grapes, man. what a pile of shit. grape flavor.” mocks. “hate that crap. tastes fuckin’ nothin’ like grapes. the guy who made it must’ve suffered several brain injuries at a young age to think that’s what an actual fuckin’ fruit tastes like.” goes off, suddenly appearing... passionate about artificial flavoring in various food products? perhaps he’s the one suffering several brain injuries. stops himself from going any further by taking a swing from the now blood-stained flask, the harsh liquid coming in direct contact with the busted bottom lip before hitting the back of his throat, causing the briefest of grimaces to sprawl across rough features. swallows thickly, clearing his throat before handing the booze back, lips now pressing into a thin line, forming some kind of a half-grateful smile. expects this to be it. it’s where they casually part ways, with her prancing off to explore whatever wonders irving has got to offer before 6 am on a sunday and him withering on some bench behind the swimming pool. so, when she starts to walk off, he doesn’t even think about following, hands returning into the depths of his pockets, feet glued to the pavement until she’s calling out to him again. “what?” huffs, as the last thing he wants is to actually be a burden to this girl, but the more he just stands there like a moron, the further she walks, and the less he can hear whatever she’s rambling about. so, he finds himself awkwardly tagging along, figuring that even if he’ll end up refusing the offer by the time they get there, he can at least make sure she concludes the night at home, in one piece. “23rd?” repeats, brows furrowing. “oh shit. okay, yeah, uhh, you’re fuckin’- older than i thought, dude. good job.” genuinely believed she was around nineteen, so... it’s certainly bit of a relief to discover she’s not, in fact, an infant. scoffs when she refers to him as pretty, as if receiving compliments was a sin, a crime and a bother, but does however try and pick up the pace, not wanting to be the token grandpa character who’s slowing everyone down. “illegal.” repeats with an amused huff, because... actually, it probably is. “sure, ms. mayor. i’ma keep that in mind.” salutes before using one finger of that hand to sternly point in her direction. “careful, by the way.” warns, blunt, though far from menacing. “with that whole fuckin’ walkin’ backwards business, yeah?” she is high, after all. “don’t want ya’ eatin’ shit on the sidewalk.” 

#* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - ADAM & LARA . #drugs tw #blood tw #injury mention tw #death mention tw #* ( 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗦 ) - A . B . #bri this is so long #why is this so long #im literally crying

[piratejct]

elias, who are some guys that you /wouldn't/ fuck?

"BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME i have standards.” followed by a light chuckle, as he brings the oversized wineglass filled to the brim with blueberry cider to his lips. takes a small sip, nose scrunching up the more he thinks about it. “but okay! i feel like i wouldn’t necessarily wanna hook-up with mercy? no offense, he just kind of looks like he could smell of, like, blood and dirt a lot?” pauses, hand moving to cover his mouth. “oh my god, is that, like, rude? i don’t know, i’m sorry! i’m sure you shower.” raises an apologetic hand. “but anyway! who else wouldn’t i fuck? uhm... maybe owen? he just, like- he looks so sweet, i’d almost feel bad about asking him to tie me up. landon, also! he’s super adorable, but girl.. he’s a twink as fuck. like, would that mean i’d have to top? because, sis, that’s a responsibility and i genuinely don’t think i’d be ready for it. who else? i mean, judas- duh, because i hate him, but aside from that... i don’t know, i guess tucker? he seems nice, but then his brother’s a total snack and, like, i just don’t wanna be ruining families, you know?” nods as if to confirm it is, in fact, the right decision. “on the contrary, i’ve decided i’d absolutely bang scotty. he’s a hottie, and.. he makes me wanna be his thottie.” sounds as if he’s reciting a poem he’s rehearsed a million times, sultry yet subtle, before blowing one last kiss into the void. 

@cvastals, @perishedsoftly, @fortyfivcs, @jackfr0sted, @ovvnwords, @cfmysterys​

#Anonymous #nsfw #can u tell im sleep deprived