open to mutuals

if he hadn't asked them to come with, to hold him accountable, he wouldn't have gone. and, really, he needs to go. he hasn't gone in a month now and his skin itches with need. this is the longest he's been sober in.. he doesn't want to admit how long. but this time of year was always hard, this time of year always makes his insides feel like they're being swarmed with fire ants. the only thing that slows them down is the high that floods his veins. he knows he'll go back to it eventually, but for now it felt good to be proud of something.

"so.." he starts, twirling his straw in the milkshake that sat before him. he can't look them in the eyes, almost embarrassed to have laid everything on the table like that. but the only way to get rid of the stinking rot in his chest was to get it out, pull it out of his chest with every word that fell out of his mouth. "now you know like, most of the bad things that happened to me." he gives them a weak smile, running a hand over his buzzed hair. "are we like, cool still?"

@de2thletter liked for a starter!

"hey, kid." his voice is soft, even, nudging the other with his hand in attempts to wake him up. "don't puke on my couch, alright? just 'cause you're hungover, doesn't mean i'm gonna be cool with it. only people i've been inside and people i made get to puke on that couch."

open to mutuals

he sits across from them, hands clasped as he leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs. a position of exhaustion, of apology. "this isn't what i wanted, y'know." there's a soft melancholy to his voice, a soft defeat sitting on his shoulders as he stares down at his feet, unable to keep eye contact with them. he did what he always does, he did something he can't take back and blew this up. "i didn't want it to be like this, i never wanted to do this to you." it's the same practiced apology that always falls out of his mouth when he does the thing. he always does the thing. "its just who i am." is that an explanation or an excuse? maybe both. "it's who i'll always be."

@de2thletter liked this for a lyric starter

this year//the mountain goats i am going to make it through this year, if it kills me

his face is drawn up in a tight smile, one that reads frustration despite his forced attempt. "you are not ruinin' my mood this year, flo. not once. because i am a new man." the look on his face grows more towards constipated as he tries to keep the smile. "even if you did just knock my phone down a storm drain. super fine. i'll just-- i'll get another."

@afterdeaths liked this for a vday starter!!//matthew

"c'mon." he hooks his arms under matthew's, physically dragging him away from the door. "we're going out to the store. we're buying candy. we're buying wine. we're watching romcoms. i don't care if you don't want to, it's the tradition." who's tradition? "don't be such a crybaby."

@afterdeaths liked this for a birthday starter!!//daisy

"okay, so," he steps out of his bedroom, pinstriped button up hanging open as he shows her the outfit. "is this good? better than usual?" he's not typically one to worry about how he looks, but he had two days of the year that he attempts to give a shit. "or do i look stupid? i feel like i look stupid." his one pair of nicer pants sits low on his hips, no belt holding it up yet. "don't lie to me, either."

open to mutuals

"so..." his eyes are downcast, hands in his pockets. "are you.. you doin' anything for like, valentine's day?" it's his first one since his divorce, the first one he's been alone for in.. he can't remember how long. when was the last time he had been single for more than a few weeks? "if not, we can like, do something together. not like-- it definitely doesn't have to be a date. could just be two pals, palin' around, you know? if you want." he shrugs. "i can cook us dinner, even. but totally platonically, if you want."

open to mutuals

his hands are shaking as he knocks on the door. there's blood on his face and on his clothes and on his knuckles. what had even just happened? his head is still fuzzy. he's thankful when the door finally opens, giving them a shaky smile and leaning against the door frame. "hey. sorry to show up late, do you wanna hang out?" he can't go back to his apartment right now. he doesn't feel good alone. "can i shower here?"

@hctclcalifornia sent 🎲 for a random plot!//winnie

their dining room but there's a blizzard outside, nobody is getting in or out of the house for the next day or two

he's standing at the kitchen window watching the snow come down. and coming down it was. the thick sheets of white were starting to cover everything, cars starting to be drowned in a snowy blanket. at this point, the roads and sidewalks and grass are all white. "well, win," he starts, sipping the beer in his hand as he watches the outside, "we might be stuck here for a minute. it's snowing like a son of a bitch outside." he turns to face her, giving her a wicked smile. being stuck inside sounds like a dream sometimes, especially when it's this cold out. he didn't have enough layers to even think about going out in that. "which means you have no excuse to not binge all my favorite movies with me. we are so gonna marathon till we have bed sores the next like, two days."

open to mutuals

"what does serving cunt mean and am i doing it?" some teenager had come up to him, saying something about his outfit. cargo pants and the bugs bunny shirt really got the kids going, huh? "is it a bad thing?"

@hidefire continued from here

his scowl is obvious as he looks out the window, watches the water flood the streets. fucking global warming or some shit, ruining everything. he should be locking the door behind her right now, he should be telling her goodbye, see you never, like he does every time she leaves. he hates how routine this had become.

"i don't want you here as much as you don't want to be here." he rolls his eyes as he turns to her, arms crossed over his chest. "i know, so fucking tragic." he scoffs, walking over to his bed and falling onto it. "i'm a pretty fuckin' good time, fuck you. you'd be lucky to hang out with me."

@dumbthink sent 🎁 for a spotify starter//(historic cemetery/tfb)

"if you slobber on this joint again, i will revoke your smoking privileges." it's said so seriously, holding it away from them for a moment to let them really think about their actions. "it's most definitely a party foul and i won't stand for it."

@wornclean liked for a spotify starter! (c u around//pwr bttm)

"i'm looking forward to the day when i can see your face and not wonder what it was i did that made you run away."

@praybird liked for a spotify wrapped starter! (heart tattoo//joyce manor)

"i want a heart tattoo. i want it to hurt really bad."

@punktrsh//liked this//funny you should ask THE GOOD THING ABOUT THIS CAST IS I CAN STILL HOLD A KNIFE//SO IF YOU EVER TWIST MY ARM AGAIN, I'LL BE SURE TO PUT UP A FIGHT

after it was all said and done, after he had had time to sober up and look back at the texts, ashton feels almost nothing but shame. shame for showing that side of himself, the needy, insecure, obsessive side he can't seem to shake, and for starting a fight over something that was entirely him over reacting. shame for thing things that he had said in those heavy, suffocating moments of anger that feel like they swallow him whole. shame for the way he made a scene, an emotional mess of drugs and heartbreak that had let too many eyes see just who he was. it was a mistake he can't rectify in any way, and he can't help but feel the creeping guilt and frustration as he realizes the damage he could've done to all of their careers, to tristan's reputation. his own image be damned, how could he bring down the other guys? goddamn him and his inability to let things just be. the frustration with himself grows the more he remembers, the more he sees the videos of his outburst. god, did he really look that fucking stupid? he's not sure there's any recovering from this.

it takes days for ashton to even think about talking to tristan, longer for him to do so. it takes over a week before he's able to be out of his room while tristan is there getting whatever he needs for staying away from ashton. "hey." the word is weak and unsure, half expecting the younger male to ignore him, to give him the cold shoulder he was an expert at. "i--" 'i'm sorry'? 'i'm an asshole, you were right'? 'i miss you'? none of those felt like the right thing to say. "we shouldn't have said.. any of what was said." not an apology, not even close. but it's all he can get out. "that shouldn't have gone down like that." it's the closes thing he's going to get out to an apology, he thinks. how does he even begin to approach this without starting another fight?

@amadaans plotted starter//ophelia

"look, you need to eat something." he had showed up at her place after not hearing from her for a few days. she knew she was busy, that she worked, that she had a life. but he knows they both rely on the constant human interaction. especially with each other. especially after everything. their souls were bonded now through tragedy, and isn't that the tightest stitch of all? his arms are crossed over his chest as he looks at her, brows furrowed and lips tight with concern. "and don't give me that 'i'm not hungry' shit, i know you're starving."