#abottomfeederjustlikeme

[bruisedconscience]

@abottomfeederjustlikeme​ ( from answer! ) 

❝ I don’t know. I wasn’t ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ. ❞ Adam replied idly as he lit his cigarette. He didn’t mean to be so blunt, but what came with his tone was ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʏ. He wasn’t quite sure what was going the other, and he didn’t pretend to care. But he had been rambling on for a few minutes now before his words wrapped up, the air becoming dead. Nothing but the click of his lighter filled the tiny space, Adam only ʙᴏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴɢ to look over at him once he had taken his first drag. His eyes flittered over to the Joseph, who’s posture had shifted slightly in the time between their last exchange. The smallest drip of guilt slid its way into the back of the photographer’s mind as the space became quiet once more. He couldn’t  ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ it. He tried to lighten the mood, cover his tracks as he spoke with a weak smile and a small cough. ❝ Probably something ꜱᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ❞ 

Oh. Well...then it wasn’t important that he’d forgotten about...what he’d been talking about, again. That’d been happening more often, lately. His manager at work said he was keeping his head in the clouds too much, had probably started ‘smoking something a bit more potent than your menthols, Joe.’ 

Still, the embarrassment made his shoulders budge up a bit, his hands finding their way into his slacks. He was still in his work clothes. Hadn’t even gone home to change. Adam’s comment brings him back into his head and he scoffs, smirking. 

“Yeah, probably. S’not that important if I can’t remember it, right?” He inhaled, about to clear his throat, but stopped, caught off guard by Adam’s cigarette. Joe patted his breast pocket and felt his pack there. Nice. He didn’t used to smoke, but Tyler had gotten him hooked. 

“Mm,” he hummed, quiet, short, and throaty after getting his cigarette lit. “We still on for drinks? Or did I...bore your brains out talking about nothing?” 

Joe’s boss had hired Adam on as a short-term contractor for local car wrecks--after the victims were removed from the automobile carcasses, of course. They needed verification of the damage so Joe could play his numbers game, and... Joe didn’t know. Adam wasn’t the nicest guy, but...Joe felt like he could talk to him, at least. 

Clearly. Apparently. 

[abottomfeederjustlikeme]

Sympathy is overrated Like a snapshot when you've lost the game

    indie SAW rp   Adam Faulkner

[noctiiphobia-blog]

“Can you hear me?”

Can you hear me?  Can you hear me?  Can you hear me?  Can you hear me?    Can you hear me?  Can you hear me?  Can you hear me?  Can you hear me?

                                   SILENCE

The orderly stood, frozen, wide eyes staring past any who crossed before him.  He’d been stuck there for several moments now but, as most around knew him, he went uninterrupted.

                                                                                 Can you hear me?

A stiff nod came far too long after Adam spoke.  Zep’s focus snapped to the man in front of him as if he’d just approached, appeared out of nowhere to startle Hindle.

          I can.  I can.  I can.  I can.  I can.  I can.  I can.  I can.  I can.  I can.  I can.  I can.

“…Yes.”

[cutfoot]

...        ‘   it  was  you?   ’         eyebrows  draw  together,     lips  tighten  into  his  frown      (      adam  was  a  good  liar,     most  of  the  time,     which  made  this  interaction  all  the  more  bizarre   :       adam  was  all  half  -  shrugs  and  rolling  eyes,    as  if  he  didn’t  care  if  this  particular  lie  hit      ).     lawerence’s  kitchen  swarms  around  his  shoulders,      always  feeling  a  little  too  small  without  alison  making  the  world  bigger      ...       diana’s  tucked  away  upstairs,    the  sink  creaks  behind  him.     it  was  broken.    alison  would  come  tomorrow  to  fix  it      (      he  really  should  call  a  repair  -  man      ).       ‘   if  diana  broke  the  lamp,    just  hurry  up  and  spit  it  out.   ’

@abottomfeederjustlikeme​        ...        “okay it was me… so?”

[cutfoot]

...        a  cheek  finds  its  way  to  his  shoulder.        a  heavy  pressure,   as  if  the  other  had  decided  to  lean  his  full  weight  upon  lawrence       (       a  decision  that  made  quite  a  bit  of  sense  considering  the  blood  rushing  from  between  adam’s  lips,   staining  lawrence’s  white  shirt      ).        merely  another  haggard  piece  of  each  other  cut  out  and  shared        ...        lawrence’s  arm  snakes  around  the  other’s  waist,   supporting  his  weight.        ‘   adam?       adam,   can  you  still  hear  me?   ’

the  words  are  a  huffed,   gentle  breath  against  adam’s  ear        (        quiet  and  low,   the  vague  worry  that  speaking  any  louder  might  shatter  the  other  apart       ...        lawrence  knows  the  feeling  all  too  well,   the  horror  of  standing  on  the  edge  and  peering  over        ).        his  fingers  catch  on  adam’s  chin,  a  harsh  grip,   as  he  forces  the  other’s  bleary  eyes  to  focus  on  him.      ‘   you’re  going  to  be  fine.   ’

@abottomfeederjustlikeme​       ...        lean.

[ancsthctist-archived]

//. @abottomfeederjustlikeme​ // sc.

     ❝ Adam--? ❞ Reijiro hears the door to his clinic open, and it takes him a moment to recognize the shape that just appeared in the doorway. ❝ Are you alright? You uh, you weren’t followed, were you? Any yakuza tailing you? ❞ He stands from his desk to look out the window. He couldn’t see much beyond the glitter of rain blurring the disorienting neon lighting from the rest of the district outside.

[bruisedconscience]

@abottomfeederjustlikeme​ => Adam 

Joe scrubbed his hand over his eyes as he waited under the sickly white lights of the little bus stop awning. He’d been tempted to hail a cab to the airport instead, but paying for his own meals on business trips was really starting to eat into his wallet. Maybe once he got to Cincinnati... No, wait. He’d already flown to and from Cincinnati, hadn’t he? They used Eastern Daylight Time there, right? 

He glanced down at his watch and couldn’t even tell if he’d set the time back since his last flight or not. God, he was disoriented. There was a guy standing next to him with a camera bag, studiously not looking at him or anything. Joe inhaled quietly and stepped over, trying to bring his arms and shoulders in so that his 6′ even stature didn’t make him look threatening. 

As if he could, as rail-thin as he was. 

“Hey,” Joe said, “sorry, but do you have the time? I think my watch is wrong.” 

[suitofarmxr]

❝Tequila is not my friend? YOU’RE not my friend.❞

@abottomfeederjustlikeme | drinking starters

               “Okay, buddy…” Tony chuckles with a roll of his eyes. Perhaps, trying to take care of a random stranger at the bar wasn’t going to be his easiest plan to carry out but he’d DAMNED if he didn’t at least TRY to be a good person. “But don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink now? Where do you live? I can get you home.”