recovering shit show. @zanexdley-blog - Tumblr Blog

NASH PRUITT

“You know, you find the weirdest things in the early hours of the morning. I’d think it would be the opposite but nope.” He mused, motioning towards the sleeping figure in the sand. Their hand clutching on to a bottle of Whiskey like it was some sort of blanket or pillow. “Looks like they had some fun the night prior.” A moment, Nash paused. “Think we should wake him up or leave him be?”

Zane hoisted a brow marginally. Attention averting from Nash to a male who had clearly had a far better night than the two of them. “Aha --- nice!” He returned. Moderate chuckle leaving the confinement of his lips, as his arms folded tightly across his chest. “I say we leave ‘em. He’s looking quite comfortable and I’d hate to be the one who awakens him and his wicked hangover, ya know?” With an excessive exhale following suit, the male allowed his body to lower next to the figure deep in slumber. Gently tearing away the bottle of whiskey from the death grip before giving it a quick one over. “Looks like our friend here has also got some shit taste in whiskey.”

#c: nash #int: convo

MASON MILLER

“You know, it always confuses me on how people can get married in Vegas when they’re shit face, you’d think that the people who were doing the whole ceremony they would be like here’s a fake paper you’re married and bam live life without a ball in chain or regrets.” Mason wondered out loud, “I got a little high last night and started to over think things and found myself watching Conspiracy Theories which by the way freaked myself out that I needed to sleep in my bath tub.”

“That is an excellent question, my dude. However --- I do not have the answers you seek, as I haven’t been one of those shit faced idiots to get hitched by Elvis in the middle of what probably used to be a strip club. Yet.” Zane’s return was pursued by a heavy laugh. Lips meeting the cold, glass rim of his beer bottle before he allowed himself to polish off the remainder. “Yeah --- can’t say I really fuck with conspiracy theories either. Last one I read was the one about Avril Lavigne and some chick named Melissa? Long story short, I was freaked, and had to fall asleep with Spongebob playing in the background.”

#c: mason #int: convo

ABBY RICHARDS

Delivery for @zanexdley

Abby was slowly starting to become accustomed to Wilmington. Her graduate classes were going well; she even managed to touch base with one of her father’s former colleagues for job opportunities and research potential. The small apartment she lived in downtown was starting to feel like home, and she finally got enough courage to bring her long board out for a bit of a joy ride. In Seattle, she was one of the hundreds if not thousands of people her age that rode around daily. The streets were wide enough to where she could easily maneuver around people if they were walking towards her. Here, the streets were a little more crowded, what with the pier close by and tons more tourists around, but that still didn’t make much of a difference. Abby just had to make tighter turns and wear her glasses more now. She slowly meandered her way down the street, slowed down by her backpack filled with heavy textbooks and notebooks already covered in lecture notes. She was doing a pretty good job of keeping pace, too, if not for the hoard of children that she had to narrowly avoid, throwing her off balance and forcing her to break far too soon, skidding off her board and watching as it rolled into someone’s feet. “Sorry!” She apologized, her eyes glued to her board rather than who it had bumped into. She didn’t need anyone’s judgement. “Sorry, guess I just lost balance.” Abby bent down to scoop up the board, checking for scratches on the wooden surface.

He recognized that face far before he witnessed her nearly faceplant amongst the hustling street. Coy grin etching itself onto his features as he stood stationary. Hand reaching down to rapidly hoist the board from the pavement beneath him. “You should probably watch where you’re going.” Zane mused; eyes fixated on the brunette’s. “Because if you would have fallen, I can’t promise that I would have helped you up before snapping a multitude of extremely embarrassing photos.” Though he wasn’t making it a known fact at that very moment, Zane was thrilled to see a familiar face amongst an unfamiliar crowd. A sight for sore eyes, for a man whom had only left the comfort and certainty of his home for a newborn start.

Without waiting for much of a response, the male used his arm not preoccupied with the woman’s longboard to bring her in for a warm embrace. Chin resting on the peak of her head. “Bet ya’ didn’t expect to see me here, huh?”

#c: abby #int: convo #// ahh! don't even worry bout it <3

WESTON TAYLOR

AT THE TAYLOR RESIDENCE IN MURRAYVILLE, ft. @zanexdley.

He was a couple of drinks in by the time the night struck a little after ten o’clock, and there was no doubt he was feeling the ones he had. Things like this were what put Weston in his prime —- Labor Day weekend was in full swing, plenty had left the homemade barbecue at his house, and now all that was left over was Zane, empty beer bottles to be cleaned up, and dirty dishes from the grill in the back yard tossed in his sink. Jake had already gone off to his room to shower and turn in, and the two men were left going back and forth from the patio to the kitchen in the wake of cleaning up after the get together. “Bud, you’re talking too fast.” Weston interrupted the drunken ramble of his old friend as he came barreling through the sliding glass door holding the trays of left over pasta salad. A couple of beers in, and well, Weston was thankful he didn’t have work calling his name in the morning —- he wasn’t so sure if the same could be said for Zane, who more than likely would be crashing on his couch. “Come again?”

“I saaaaaid --- there were a couple of beers left in the cooler outside, so I finished them up. To save room in your fridge. You’re welcome.” The moment he walked through the sliding glass door, Zane found himself with a lost train of thought. Eyes darting around confusedly before he placed the remainder of potato salad on the counter. Lips pursed slightly. “Yeah bro --- there’s no way in hell I’m making it home tonight, so I hope you washed your sheets. That couch is mine.” With a quick nod of his head, the male pulled out a clean spatula. Dropping it into the leftover potato salad before shoveling it towards his mouth. “Got anything compelling to tell me? I need some entertainment.”