* 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑

LOCATION: adam’s apartment  TIME: midnight  AVAILABILITY: closed, @adzm​

                    𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒’𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡. keon’s been wandering all night, his mind in a tizzy as he’s tried fighting one impulsive decision after another. as though his underlying need to escape the inescapable keeps itching at his fingertips, having sat a bus stop for nearly three hours ( passing up four opportunities to get on ) until he convinced himself to find something better to do. or more specifically, someone. which is why he’s here, body pressed against a lightpost, nicotine filled lungs chasing the next puff of his cigarette as he stares up at adam’s apartment door. debating whether or not to pull through considering his presence would be unannounced, but judging by the light that’s still on, he doesn’t think he’ll be disturbing the guy’s beauty sleep. so finishing off his cigarette, he flicks it to the side before he winds himself up the staircase, head ducked when he lifts a fist. knocking one, two, three times. and then stuffing his hoodie pockets, waiting for adam to either ignore keon’s beck and call or answer him.

knock, knock, knock. the noises coming from the other side of the front door pull adam out of his computer screen and in to reality. he checks the time in the corner of his macbook. 12:25 am. there’s only one person who could want to come around this hour and the way his white ragdoll cat, daisy, is mewing at the door, confirms adam’s suspicions. standing up from his desk, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror of his bedroom and is painfully aware of how tired he looks; his curls are a mess and the darkness around his eyes fooled no one in to believing he slept adequately these days. and then there’s a pang of annoyance at himself for recognizing that he does care what he looks like and he heads toward his door, shifting that irritation towards keon as it sits heavily in his chest. the door swings open and at first adam stares at the other boy, jaw clenched, waiting for keon to say something, but then he catches daisy weaving between keon’s legs, purring almost as if to say we know him! don’t act like we don’t know him. a sigh.  ❛  ― it’s, uh, such a pity your phone’s broken, ❜  adam begins, clearing his throat. he’s was always a little awkward about greeting keon at night. sober.  ❛  because it would have made sense for you to, y’know, consult with me ahead of time. for you to come over. ❜ but of course, adam steps to the side, letting the other boy in.  ❛  you know i have work to do or  ― i don’t know ― i could have had people over! ❜ had people over. the sentence was laughable. keon had long seen through adam’s facade and it pained him to admit so.

there weren’t many people who adam let past the perfect exterior he so desperately tried to keep up with. however, with violet... he didn’t ever really have a choice, did he? they were destined to know the less shinier parts of each other, their dads being best friends who owned their law firm together. with violet, adam knew she could be impulsive, not privy to responsibility or anything that wouldn’t give her instant gratification. and with adam, his down fall was, perhaps, the opposite of hers: his stubbornness. 

take, for example, the fact that driftwood coffee’s employees had kicked him out at 9:45 last night, and adam, stubbornly not wanting to end the day without having finished at least the outline for his graduate school application essay (arguably one of the most important essays he’d ever written in his life), decided he’d head down to lockbourne beach to continue his work until midnight, like he frequently liked to do. it was on the car ride there that he’d noticed a bottle of expensive, single malt scotch whiskey violet’s dad had gifted him as a welcome back home and congrats on graduating uni! gift. he decided to bring it to down to the beach with him. perhaps, he rationalized, the drink would be a way to clear his mind as he listened to the waves crash against the rocks. and though he wasn’t really technically supposed to be drinking right now... the whiskey was a gift. it would be rude to waste it.

unfortunately, and very unsurprisingly, lifting the large, dark whiskey bottle to his lips was the last thing he hazily remembered before waking up as the sun dawned, in the exact spot he’d been in hours before, working on his essay. his laptop was dead. the empty whiskey bottle was half submerged in sand. and his house keys.... where were his house keys? 

❛ fuck,  ❜ adam groans audibly, as he sloppily collects the rest of his things. though his head feels as if it was hit by a ton of bricks, he’s able to (maybe not-so-legally) drive himself to violet’s apartment and starts rapping his knuckles sharply against her front door before leaning on it, as he could barely keep himself up.  ❛ violeeet!  ❜ he groans through the door as he keeps incessantly knocking.  ❛ i’ve lost my house keys and it’s your fault because your dad gave me that whiskey and now i feel like i’ve been hit by a fucking bus! ❜

it’s nine pm, and yes, adam is picking up a coffee. black. obviously. and he’s going to take that coffee and sit at a table, stare at the list of graduate applications submitted by former students that were deemed good enough to be displayed on nyu’s website and meticulously take note of their similarities so that he can implement it in to his own writing and one day be listed right next to them. obviously. then, at 9:45, a member of staff will passive aggressively tell him he needs to leave as they’re closing in fifteen minutes. and then adam will tell himself that he’ll take his laptop back to his apartment and continue studying but then he’ll drive by lockbourne beach & without a second thought, find himself staring at the horizon where the dark, cold water seems to meet with the night sky. and then he’ll wish he could get lost in it.

...okay, so it wasn’t the most productive routine, but it had been happening like clockwork since adam arrived home from leeds a month ago. at first it was just a way to stay out of his parents’ house for as much of the day as possible while waiting for his apartment to be ready (while he loved his dad and stepmum, they could be a little overbearing at times and he really needed the space to work), but when he did move out, adam stuck with the schedule because, well... it kind of worked for him. and it had been working well for him with no surprises or hiccups until today, when he takes his coffee from the barista, turns around to head toward his table and crashes in to the girl that was behind him. dark liquid stains the front of her dress, and immediately, adam’s eyes widen and he turns back around, looking for napkins. he begins explaining himself hastily as he grabs them, ❛ ― i am so sorry, i’m usually the only one in here at nine pm and ―   ❜  

but then there’s a pause, because as if the situation couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, adam finally gets a good look at the other and instantly recognizes those kind, dark hues.  ❛ ― oh, pip!  ❜ her nickname rolls off his tongue before he can catch it. he’d been back in town a month, but the pair hadn’t gotten to see each other. they didn’t really talk much these days.  ❛ ― i didn’t think i’d see you here ― i mean not here ― obviously you live here ― i just mean here. at driftwood. because it’s so late. ❜ he’s stuttering out his sentences and he hates it; that feeling of vulnerability. he clears his throat, quickly regaining his composure and finally finishes handing her the napkins. there’s a slight moment where he doesn’t say anything, but then he lets out a soft sigh, grounding him in the moment. ❛ your dress is really lovely, pippa. i’m so sorry i’ve ruined it. ❜ he gestures to the menu behind him. ❛ perhaps i could buy you a drink? ❜  

hello all you wonderful special people! my name is deven (she/her), i’m twenty & i live in the est timezone. i’m just so happy to be here, to get to know you all and to have some fun playing a character i really enjoy. :) i’m gonna pull a jess and just list my google doc app at the bottom of this post as well LOL as it has his bio, headcanons, wanted connections & all that juicy info in it! please give me a lil likey like here and i’ll message you on discord for plotting (or via dm if you’re not on the discord!) <3

❛  ﾟ» alex wolff , cismale , 22 , he/him , the golden boy « if we were in a movie , whenever adam ackermann walks into the room you’d hear (f**k a) silver lining - panic! at the disco playing over the scene .  one of lockbourne’s finest , they’re always hanging around kino’s or driftwood coffee to study, the rex when he misses his mother, and lockbourne beach when it’s the middle of the night & he needs to ponder about life . right now they’re a recent graduate of the university of leeds, currently studying and preparing his application for the journalism master’s program at nyu , and if you asked the rest of the group what they reminded ‘em of , they’d have to say perfectly disheveled curls & tortoise shell glasses ; multiple books haphazardly stacked upon one another with bookmarks at different places in each one ; being so engrossed in a project that you forget the world around you ; listening to a song that expresses what you can’t put into words ; looking up at the night sky & feeling wonderfully unimportant for the slightest moment. they’d describe themselves as + ambitious and + introspective , but fail to mention they’re also - sardonic and - obstinate . but regardless , the group still love them to the moon and back .