i forget where we were.

Koda's suggestions rarely go over all that well, but the fact that he's afforded an opportunity to give them at all makes him feel a touch lighter -- a bit more like he can make this into a proper birthday rather than just another stone to be stepped on. Naturally, he's not left with many options considering he hasn't had any time at all to conjure them up ( however spectacular they come out to be when he does, ) but he doesn't think he can really go wrong with what pops into his mind.

“I think that we should get outrageously drunk. Maybe forgo the other pleasantries. I'll light a candle and you can blow it out.”

#as koda crey #; move into me.

maximoffchildren

how to get ready for an interview w/ Thomas Brodie-Sangster (x)

lourehs

#YASSSSS!!#; literally jaidon.#; maybe believe.

Apprehension falls from it’s previous hover, landing full weight on his shoulders. He’s avoided the subject with genuine, obvious reason. There are years of quiet pleading and failed parties tucked under the belt of today’s date and Nash hopes against all hope that this year will be less of the same. The last thing he wants, especially given his recently failed relationship and all else, is a burnt sofa and a dozen people he doesn’t particularly care for in his apartment.

“Please promise me you didn’t.”

He presses his mouth into a thin line, smuging his fingertips over his lips.

Oh, he definitely didn't, but he'd wanted to so very badly ( still wants to ) that it'd actually felt physically painful to resist. Then again, that was before all of the weirdness had happened, both between them and with Nash and his relationship. Koda's just horribly determined to get it right is the thing -- thinks that if he attempts it enough times, he'll eventually find a component to replace Nash in the grand mixture of his convoluted plans that will hold them up enough to make them remotely structurally sound sans his expertise. So far, he's had no luck, but perseverance is key.

At the very least, he hopes to avoid the thought of his plans metaphorically representing his life, and the prospect of hypothetically being incapable of living it properly without him.

Not that he has to.

“I didn't, but we should do something anyhow.”

#man child #; drawn insane.

zaynharry

Nash slowly pulls his attention away from the book in his lap as if the obnoxious buzzing energy that Koda emits is invisible to his senses. There’s a slight quirk to his brow, but otherwise, he gives no response. He can feel the impending doom hovering just over his shoulders, breathing down his neck.

#me too koda #balancedtension #; koda.#; koda : main verse.

The intense staring continues, but no more words come for a long while, careful calculation masked ineffectively ; Koda's a man of beauty, of intellect, and of grace under most circumstances -- certainly humble as all hell on top of that -- but he's completely awful when it comes to birthdays. It doesn't matter if it's his own or someone else's -- the common knowledge among those who are close to him is to not ever let him try to plan anything, because it inevitably turns out to be just awful.

Judging by the look on his face now, resisting the urge has become a struggle of titanic proportions. He sucks in a deep breath through his nose.

“Another year wiser...”

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#the nash song #; move into me.#this is very very important #very very very important #; k : playlist.#; listen.

He sits staring at him. Has been, really, for the better half of twenty minutes. Pretending to do anything remotely productive has long since been shirked in favor of his nearly palpable desire to not only point out the elephant in the room, but to throw a party and get it really pissed. Gingerly, he extends a leg and nudges Nash's thigh with his foot.

"Hey."

#balancedtension #; koda.#; koda : main verse.#hello im koda harlow im eight and a half years old

If there has ever been a time in his life where Nash wasn’t afraid, he thinks it was probably a morning just like this. The sun still hesitant to creep out from under the horizon line and through the window into perfectly formed carpet lines. If there will ever be a time when what comes next does terrify him, he images it will be just the same. Here, with Koda’s eyes still sleep dazed and beautiful, contemplative of his self health.

His fingers curl into the sheets just to test the flex of his joints ; the realness of the situation. Of course, his mind - already three steps ahead of everything else - knows that isn’t a dream. This is the cold, harsh reality. His relationship has fallen apart ; his heart has been broken, and he should, without a doubt, be mournfully horrified to the point of staying here, in this bed all day. Or perhaps drinking his troubles away with the help of whiskey and cigarettes until outerspace shows itself in the flicker of stars once again.

But he surprises himself when his fingers remove themselves from the sheets in favour of pulling gently at a lock of Koda’s hair ; when his lips part and he speaks with a confidence he wasn’t sure he could ever possess ( especially now ), “Yeah, ‘m alright, Teddy.” And just like that, Nash’s mouth spills into the full spread of a smile, still lazy with the early hour.

It is not just the end, but the beginning also and okay. He can live with that. He has to.

It seems oddly okay, like the sun's rays on the bare-skin cold of his chest, warming his flesh and his limbs and his eyes anew, is just enough to make trepidation unnecessary ; it quells the dark tides of it inside of him, putting an end to the scratching at those inner walls barricading him away from if I forgot that, what else have I forgotten. He's surprised it hasn't come all at once and gone away again, and thinks there's absolutely no way that he has woken up like this so many times before and not, in some locked away part of himself, known.

The pet name is endearing enough to make him smile again, as if the one on Nash's face isn't sufficient ( it is. )

“Good.” There's a brief of pause for some thought gone awry, but he shakes it off, opting instead to not think for the moment. That might be better for him. “I'm pretty sure that I have a clear schedule today.” He doesn't, especially counting in the fact that he completely blew off his homework last night ( would do it again a hundred times over ), but that's alright too. It's not really all that important to him.

Morning light streams through the window, casting the inside of his eyelids that oddity of not quite orange, and not quite red. He feels the stir of the movement on the mattress beside him before he’s fully awake but he knows, perhaps quicker than he should, that it is not Jack’s body tangled with his own. It couldn’t be. Even they hadn’t slept like this. Nash is pilant ; allows for his limbs to be half untangled from as if he’s still asleep ; waits for the brush of fingertips across his forehead to fully draw himself out of the dark nothingness that comes with closed eyes.

There’s a flutter of lashes, bleary eyes slowly attempting to focus on the sudden onslaught of light that filters through. His gaze finds Koda just before the previous night comes flooding back in like a shotgun trigger pulled ; aimed straight for his chest. A soft inhale. Tired lungs ; tired everything slowly shift in a stretch of muscles. There are certain things to figure out but he leaves those for just a little later. Time is something he and Koda have never lacked. Like some sort of perpetual song that always ends right where they are. Mistakes repeat themselves over and over again outside shared walls but this morning always comes.

Sleepy sounds break through the surface, softer than possibly anything else that ever does. He’s always so soft in the mornings. So warm ; unguarded. Another slow flash of lashes cover his vision before the corner of his mouth manages the muted touch of a smile. Barely there. His body forces itself into a half upwards position, the sleeve of his sweater moving to wipe at his eyes like a child’s jumper paw. “Hey.”

Just in time. Koda's life can be summarized in an ever-growing pile of pushed away's and too late's and not now's, but with Nash he's always found that he can sink into the just in time's enough to off-set all of the rest of it -- enough to make the way his eyes blinking open in the exact moment that Koda's raise to meet with them not at all a surprise. It's more like a greeting than a happenstance, and he finds the slight curve to Nash's lips endearing enough to draw forth one of his own, however sleep-dusted and faint.

“Hey.” He says it back weighted but in a thickly sweet way, like black treacle or hard candies, and he wonders what's coming just around the corner today ; something's bound to blind-side him again, when he's feeling this loose and torn asunder, like his seams need to be sewn back together to keep his edges from parting completely. He imagines Nash would know what he meant if he could find the voice to say it aloud to him, or if he could be selfish enough to do so. He's part surpassed his quota of selfishness for the week, he thinks. Last night was enough.

“Alright?” Doubtful, but necessary to ask regardless -- his voice is almost lost to the rasp of a night's disuse, and he clears his throat a couple of moments following, the hand that he had used to brush Nash's hair back resting comfortably on his chest now. He likes feeling it move.

It feels normal -- natural, really. There's nothing new about waking up with him, all sticky warmth, tangled limbs, and slight, vague regret that he hadn't turned the heating off last night ; wistful morning thoughts are tinged with a comfortable haze as he blinks his way into consciousness, the first inhale after the flood in his mind deep enough to make the expansion of his chest somewhat restricted against the press of Nash's body, but he doesn't mind. Not at all.

It's only when his thoughts begin to stir themselves into some manner of coherency that he's allowed to remember. Whatever defense mechanism that clicks into place for him has all but failed today on the front of his best mate, and his heart drops down low, a painful thud against his ribs as he slowly, shakily pulls himself up into a sitting position.

So they've probably got a lot to talk about. For now, Koda occupies himself with reaching out to stroke back a bit of Nash's hair from his forehead, not bothering to so much as try to keep hazel-green eyes from lingering on the curve of his mouth ; it's probably been months, maybe years since he's actively spared himself the notion. He won't act.

queenhyunc-blog

THANK YOU FOR 450+ FOLLOWERS !! I LOVE YOU ALL !!

let me just put it out there, i was basically forced into starting indie rping, i was so scared at first because i just thought no one would reply to my stuff or like my muses but now i don’t even wanna think about applying to a rpg because i’m so in love with indie rping. i’ve never had as much fun with rping before and i feel like i’ve improved my writing so much ever since starting this so thank you for letting me have fun and loving all my little dorks i guess. and i was gonna wait until 500+ followers but why wait to appreciate all my beautiful followers and partners am i right ??

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, I WANNA KISS YOU | if you're here then we're not just rp partners, we're friends and if you leave i'll cry.

✧ bossassbitchwrites | we’re dating, we’re married, we’re zalfie, we’re malum, we’re lashton, we’re narcus, we’re kiandrea (before the break up), we’re everything and that’s all you need to know. i literally love you so damn much *heart eyes*

✧ hopcless | it’s hard for me to talk about you and not write an entire novel, so let me just say that you’ve been a true blessing in my life and i love you.

✧ beencaughts | i’ve known you for what seems like forever and you’re literally the little sister i never had. you’ve become one of my bestest friends and i literally love you, you don’t understand.

✧ rosiecyrusx | i’m putting you on this with rosie’s blog bc well what other do i use ? but leanne who i will never call euphoria, i’d say you’re my favourite irish person but niall horan is a thing. you give me so much pain but make me happy at the same time like how?!?!?

✧ dcvastated | you’re the cutest little shit even though you wanna make wyatt cry —- what has he done to you ?! you’re evil. but i love you soo much, my cute lil kitten

✧ darkestdemons | i haven’t called you this in a while soo, GRÍFA MY BABY ! i’ve known you for what ? nearly four years now ? it’s so crazy to think that we’ve stuck together for so damn long over the internet. i love you more than anything, baby nigga — only true 90’s kids remember that

✧ effxlgent | jess you feel me. we’re like the same person in two different bodies and it’s amazing. you understand me no matter what even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else.

HOW DID YOU EVEN NOTICE ME I JUST | if you're here then i have no idea why you wanna roleplay with me because you're so quality and i'm so like not

cvbainshirt ✧ firedbeliefs ✧ sadaugust ✧ blairrrp✧ pxrcelaintrust ✧ hexrtbreakgxrl ✧ trappcd ✧ samemistakxs ✧ cursedoasis ✧ brillicntclarity ✧ earthquakxs ✧ enigmctic ✧ rxskitall ✧ cosmicisms ✧ drxfters ✧ exquisitelunacy ✧ longlivethekidsx ✧ chandelicr ✧ thexhaunted

YOU'RE SO GOOD I WANNA CRY | if you're here then we might have had a thread before but got dropped for whatever reason or i really just love you a lot and might stalk your blog every now and then

thesperays ✧ jumperpaws ✧ greenlvghts ✧ cinemxtic ✧ oaklvnds ✧ irretrievcble ✧ irresistiblxs ✧ svnful ✧ miraculcus ✧ sleeplxs ✧ blondiesandbrunes ✧ oblivicus ✧ dirtbagsbaby ✧ nightxngale ✧ bluebxrds ✧ rvnningwxld ✧ heartbrexkers ✧ headlxghts ✧ talkinqx ✧ protectiive ✧ dxspised ✧ drcgas ✧ youngvolcvnoes ✧ classyxladies ✧ whitepetxls ✧ fckupsx ✧ cxmeteryweather ✧ bluerxses ✧ rydellsdirtbags ✧ lekxngs ✧ lacedlcve ✧ gclddigger ✧ awfxlly ✧ bxrelybreathing ✧ calamiities ✧ lesbehcnestx ✧ forgctten ✧ afirelxves

AND OH GOD YOU'RE SO SPECIAL | this has it's own explanation bellow.

basically on this one i’m not gonna name anyone because if i were to put everyone i follow on this it’d take me too long and this would be the biggest list and there’s no need for that considering how large this is already.

so if your url wasn’t mentioned above it just means it would be mentioned in this part as i literally love everyone i follow and i wanna roleplay with just about all of you but i’m far to awkward to tell you that. so thank you once again for putting up with me and my trash replies 99% of the time. you’re all absolutely amazing people and such incredible writers. you make my dash so, so pretty and for that one, thank you. i love yous, stay strong and don’t forget to eat your vegetables (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

#THANK YOU #; ff.

#; move into me.#this one is my fav #ugh #; ways to go.

i’m going to fucking kill you.

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#lol #; move into me.#; k : playlist.#; listen.

Given the new distance between them, the air clears a bit. Lungs pull in a several, cool breaths than the successive previous ; Nash pleads with his thoughts to quiet. But the evening weighs heavy on his chest and despite agony’s exhaustion, he fears sleep will elude him.

There’s a softer, quieter part of him that pleads for a moment alone with the comfort of cigarettes and outer space ; even to skip the usual notion of a shared bed for his cold, empty mattress at home. It feels all out of sorts, almost like his life has happened out of order and he’s not sure where to pick up from ; what has or hasn’t, will or won’t happen.

Jack proposed. Koda lied. Jack walking in on him and Koda sleeping in bed. Nash fell in love. Jack stumbled into his practice room. Koda figured out the truth. Nash left. Jack told him to get out.

Nash should sleep. His body will need it. He doesn’t want to look at the empty half of his pillow top mattress. He should go home. Where would he go?

Nash merely nods.

Hesitation is pushed aside, and he moves with the intent to not stop, getting to his feet and drawing Nash up with him. Any work he had been intending to get done tonight has long since been forgotten ( saying something, considering how much has built up, and Koda's tendency to push himself to his limits ), along with his phone, nestled between two of the cushions on his couch and bound to get lost before morning ; there are more important things to worry about than that, after all, beginning and ending with how he refuses to release his hand -- doesn't think he could even if he wanted to.

They're going to sleep. They're going to wake. They're going to be fine.

Hazel-green eyes linger on Nash's face for a tick or two of pause, and then he moves, leading him on a path he's positive he's already got memorized, and shirking every responsibility he has ; he's suddenly bone-weary exhausted, and it's not even late really -- not on his terms. Drained, perhaps, is the right word for it.