just a little heart ache, baby.

                    “ a  few  years  ago,  i  made  some  lemon  bars  for  the,  y’know,  spirit,  but  also  for  the  superintendent  of  port  apartments  and  bribed  him  so  i  could  set  up  a  whole  picnic  on  the  roof  top  for  carter  and  i,  and  some  of  my  friends  and  ex  girlfriend. we  had  slushies  and  pizza  and  listened  to  the  music  with  some  firefly  jars  until  the  festival  ended. it  was  one  of  carter’s  first  full  nights  at  the  fest,  like  when  our  parents  didn’t  drag  him  home  at  like  8 .“

💟 for a loving text

[  imsg  sent  ;  12:18 am  ]     i  made  my  bed  just  because  i  know  ur  coming  over  tonight .  see  what  i  do  for  u ?   ignore  the  hamper  of  clothes  tho . xooxxo

🍹 for a drunk text

[  imsg  sent  ;  9:48 9m  ]      naaaaaaaaaaaaaaads  .  whbt  uf r  donig ???  im iss ny smotimes .  do u ??? 

🤔 for a nonsensical text 

🌞 for a morning text

[  imsg  sent  ;  11:34 am  ]     g’  morning  sunshine .  dream  of  me  last  night ? 

🌜 for a late night text

[  imsg  sent  ;  2:01 am  ]     ur  prob  sleeping  but  like   . . if  ur  not . .  like . . .   what  if  i  called  you  ?

🌀 for a wrong number text 

[  imsg  sent  ;  3:27 pm  ]     lisTEN  U  LADY  AND  THE  TRAMP  SPAGHETTI  TWINK  i  said  nothing  happened !  sometimes  i’m  not  always  a  hoe  ! [  imsg  sent  ;  3:29 pm  ]     well  ur  not  santi .  disregard  the  twink  thing .  and  like . .   i  can  be  a  hoe  if  u  want  me  to .

🤡 for a silly text

[  imsg  sent  ;  9:56 Pm  ]     i  never  thought  i’d  say  this  but  i  didn’t  like  the  balls . [  imsg  sent  ;  9:57 Pm  ]     i’m  talking  about  boba  btw .

                     there  are  no  lingering  memories  of  her  time  alone  ,  time  spent  before  the  newlywed  couple  found  their  daughter. she  doesn’t  remember  the  peanut  butter  and  jam  sandwiches  from  the  group  home  ,  but  instead  she  could  still  tell  you  what  the  tie-dye  cupcakes  that  they  had  waiting  for  her  when  she  was  brought  home  taste  like. she  remembers  leaning  up  on  her  toes  to  peek  over  the  table  to  see  the  plate  of  them  and  being  told  to  take  as  much  as  she  wanted  because  ,  ‘  you  can. you’re  home. this  is  how  it  goes  at  home. ‘  she  remembers  that  warmth. but  it’s  not  her  fondest  memory. no  ,  that  memory  came  nearly  ten  years  later  when  the  second  miracle  graced  the  davis  family. she  was  fourteen  when  carter  was  born  and  she  remembers  that  day  with  pristine  clarity. 

“i  mean  -  i  don’t  think  an  aesthetic  really  matters?  you’ll  be  lucky  if  it  doesn’t  get  ruin  by  the  end  of  the  night.”  she’s  not  putting  too  much  thought  into  hers,  anyway.  “i  kind  of  just  want  to  have  a  good  time.  though  there’s  people  there  that  give  me  the  heebie  jeebies.  like  -  i  study  that  shit,  you  know?  it’s  hard  not  to  think  ‘bout  it.  you  planning  on  doing  anything  special  there?”

“’m  not  giving  you  a  blow  job,”  their  tongue  sticks  out  where  cris  can’t  see  —–  as  if  the  idea  of  like,  preposterous  (  it  was  )  .  “what’re  you,  a  vampire?  open  a  window  -  can’t  get  d  if  you  don’t  have  vitamin  c.”  shoves  the  curtains  opens  regardless,  they  know  it’s  likely  an  annoyance.

“ oh trust me , i know that , titszan . ” he informs the male , adding the word tits to his surname on purpose to bother him , like always ( ironic because they’re both gay as fuck ) , and messing up his hair with his hand just a bit , to get his point across . he’s nodding his head as he listens to cris go on , biting back a chuckle as he not so discreetly turns the topic back to him . santi is neither offended nor surprised , as he would probably do the same thing if the roles were reversed . “ what the fuck ? yes there is such a thing as bad publicity . and no no no , ” he starts waving a hand , so the other knows a roast is right around the corner , “ you know what bothers me the most ? that the guy trying to get me canceled looks like a cross of shrek , fiona and donkey’s long lost love child ! yet they’re over here claiming i got plastic surgery . me . is it my fault i’m so perfect looking people actually believe that ? ” oh , ever the narcissist , really , but …. he’s not lying . he hasn’t had any work done , he’s just a pretty boy , end of story . he runs a hand past his hair , raising a neat brow in return . “ cris , as fun as going through your sexy nudes sounds …. you know i’m a real life action kind of person ! i wanna see it all up close , so i can touch as i please . ” of course he would flirt with cris . of course . he doesn’t even try to hide his cocky , shit eating smirk either , light blue eyes shining with a hint of mischief . “ well maybe it’s because i didn’t get coffee , but a chai latte . do you even like those ? ”

from old seawater not washed out yet, owen’s hair is an unkempt, shaggy mess that hangs over his eyes. the wild tufts have a mind of their own as he turns to meet the voice ; caught off guard and halfway through scarfing down lunch, he wishes he’d made it look better now, more so when the other looks him over and there’s a spot of warmth blooming in his cheeks. “huh? yeah.” a mouthful of food stifles the loss of breath in his voice, teeth biting on the straw of his drink, a force of habit. he counts down the minutes left in his break. looking at him, he half-wishes those last nineteen minutes before duty calls wasn’t the thing to command his attention the rest of his afternoon. 

“for sure, man,” the joke’s thrown him off, splutters a moment and forces himself to regain composure by becoming intrigued by his own grass-stained sneakers, “you surf too?” a little of the soda’s dripped down his chin, a patch of sprite on the collar of the shirt. it’s at this point, he’s resolved, to have a mirror, anything, on hand to keep him from appearing this ridiculous. “but it’s kinda choppy right now.” his chin raises out toward the beach. underneath a clear spring sky are unruly waves fringed by white foam. “unless you like that sort of thing?”

                      he  can  admit  that  the  other  isn’t  his  usual  type.  granted,  maybe  a  few  people  would  say  that  anyone  with  a  few  inches  between  their  legs  is  his  type  but  that’s  besides  the  point.  there’s  something  different  about  this  one  though,  something  that  has  cristian  wanting  to  have  more  conversation.  flirtatiously  of  course,  but  he’s  more  or  less  incapable  of  holding  a  real  conversation  without  letting  sweet  nothings  slip  out,  even  unintentionally.  but  he’s  a  boy  from  new  york,  and  his  taste  in  men  usually  make  such  obvious,  however,  the  veil  of  the  other’s  sea  salty  hair  dangles  in  his  face  catches  his  attention.    cute  .    a  grin  comes  to  his  lips  and  he  can’t  help  but  lean  forward,  fingers  brushing  away  the  drop  of  soda  from  his  face.  he  gives  him  a  smirk  then  tilts  his  head.