fottere ・・・・

@dupont-starters​

                     Pencil to sketchpad -- an  e a s y  concept but one that required MUSE, required concentration, an idea ; none of which Ricky had at the moment. It was impossible to when all he could do was check his phone, reread texts over && over again only to ponder over  w h y  they simply STOPPED, why he didn’t join him at the bar like always. Fuck. A low sigh && hands started gathering art supplies, all such a waste of time. Green gaze couldn’t help but spot the other ; it would’ve been so much easier to keep head down, to keep walking. But in Du Pont’s current state ?? Shit. He paused, a quick shake of his head. “Listen, you don’t have to apologize. That’s -- understandable.” To say the least. “Maybe take a break from it ?? Even just a minute or two might help.”   /   @knightlyfallon​

“ I don’t think it’s possible for her ego to get any bigger than it already is, honestly. ” Kenzie smiled, copying him with a shrug of her own. “ Yeah, no, I’m so tired of grieving and the memorials. Plus, I actually like you. I don’t want you dead. ”

                    “Oh, I’m definitely telling her you said that,” he continued to quip -- another short snicker pushing past lips. “Really ?? Well I’m honored since I’m pretty sure the list of those who want me dead is a lot longer than the not dead list, But 21 questions, right ?? Uh -- top three things you’d bring on a deserted island ?? Isn’t that the next usual go-to ??”

“Someone looks like they could use a pick me up. What’s your poison: Pictures of puppies in hats or otters hugging each other?” Imogen said, sliding her phone across the table at her displeased looking companion. 

                    “Yeah see, my good amico Jack Daniels usually does the trick alright ; not sure how looking at some animal pictures is gonna help much.” He mused, long sigh pushing past lips before green gaze peered between her && the phone. Fuck it. “Though some hugging otters I suppose might be kinda cute. Maybe.”   /   @heyimogenthat​

lorenzo zurzolo as niccolò rossi govender in baby 1.02

“ Okay but I’m tired, my brain’s hurting from grieving. It’s so tragic Michael died, three months ago, but… moving on, please. ” She offers the other a reassuring smile. “ Let’s play 21 questions. Here, I’ll start. Who do you think is the hottest cheerleader? I think it’s Crimson, hands down. ”

                    Easier said than done, but what was easy was to offer a hint of a smirk in reply. “Well don’t let Crim hear you say that ; she’ll talk about it for weeks, inflate that already big ego of hers.” Ricky jested, brow arching before shrugging. “I’d have to agree. If I said anyone else I’m sure she’d kill me. && I’m pretty sure we’re all sick of memorials around here.”

                    Listen, he loved his best friend with all his heart ; which was surprising when some even believed he didn’t have one, but sometimes it was rather difficult to KEEP UP. Like say when she threw a drink at a person at his other best friend’s memorial service. ( former best friend ?? is someone still that relation to you after they die ?? his brother was still his brother, right ?? fuck, this shit sucked ). Ricky sighed, leaning ‘gainst the frame of the door as lips pulled on the vape pen,  s m o k e   calming upon release. “Yeah, but you can’t travel the world with me if you’re not here to see me graduate. Plus, full offence, but you’d look atrocious in ORANGE, la mia amica.”

                    Ricky hate churches, chapels  — not because he hated religion or a deity or anything ( though he did have high doubts )  — but once you go to a funeral, let alone two, in one it’s not exactly something you can forget. Pews become prisons, the monotonous words of a priest seemingly damning as he talks about someone he knew nothing about. How does he know how beloved someone was, where they’re going when after their last breath ?? As more people filled the chapel the more SUFFOCATING it became ; Ricky quick for cigarette to dangle from lips, hands fidgeting under jacket for his lighter as he began to leave, eyes spotting the other rather easily, the tears also hard to miss. Hands raised in innocence, offering a rather kind smile. “Hey, sorry  — quiet steps, I do that a lot.” He mused, moving to stand beside her, back leaning ‘gainst the wall. “Need a sleeve of a jacket ?? Forgot my handkerchief at home, I know I’m ashamed too.” A light jest, one he wouldn’t just make with just anyone, but Amber was always a friend. “I’m FINE.” Fine, always fine. “But it’s okay to be cliche sometimes. That’s what most of the greatest stories, art, sayings are from, sì ?? && me telling you that it’s going to be okay ?? Another cliche ; though it doesn’t make it untrue.”