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Realistic or Modern Cities Never Sleep

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Loverboy



A-Wall








Graham Byrne







So yes. Apparently there were different sign languages for each country. Oops.

Hands slowly dropped into a folded position as his vacant eyes flickered guiltily from one party to another. How was he supposed to know? He only knew what he’d been taught which was… well. A version of sign language that apparently was not used in the States.

Was he not supposed to know BSL? Was that too revealing? They might think he actually had thoughts now. But maybe the mistake would cover that-

The girl was introducing herself. For one split second, the usually pleasantly vacant eyes grew sharp. There was a flicker over to Josh. Discomfort? Jealousy? Oh, this was too much fun. His permanent smile brightened just a little bit. Perhaps it became just a bit more arrogant. A bit more suave. A bit more swagger to his movements as he stepped forwards. Clasped her hand and brought it up for a kiss on the back of hand. “Pleasure is all mine.”

A soft and low tone, almost like a purr. A wink thrown in. Eyes locked cleanly onto her own.

And then Graham was offered a jacket.

“Of course, lass, why thank you.” He purred as he put on the jacket. It was too small, long built arms not quite fitting properly, it was too short as well. Barely covered anything to be completely frank. “Shirt got soaked through and it was the same thing as going shirtless except just a little bit more unpleasant I’d imagine.”

A small raise of the crumpled up shirt he’d been wearing in his fist. A little shake for emphasis.

Despite his reputation for being the town bicycle, his eyes surprisingly never strayed from Abi’s face as she spoke to him. There was a nod of understanding, intelligence behind the murky exterior.

“Yeah they are different languages, thanks love!” A return to unbothered brainlessness in true Byrne fashion. “I’ll let you all do the translating then.”

Cheerful at the very least.

Finally the scared boy was introducing himself, and giving handshakes. Graham’s blinding smile simmered into something softer and kinder. Almost nice. “It’s a pleasure.”

A firm handshake. But perhaps not as aggressive as the others, gentler in a way. His personality easily molding to play off the one he was confronted with.

A bell.

They were still doing Bible study in the middle of a fecking hurricane? What the feck.

And then a younger teenage girl popped up, with little hearts practically in her eyes. Aw, that was cute. But definitely not his kind of game.

Also, he really didn’t want to go to Bible study. He really really really did not want to go to Bible study. Catholic guilt was strong enough already without Bible study to reinforce it. Thank you goodbye.

He opened his mouth to give some kind of flippant response, but Josh got to it before he could handle it… A tilt of the head. The quirking of a smile. The boy was definitely not used to lying his ass off.

“You know, lying is a sin… And in a church? How…” Green eyes gleamed brighter just a bit. “Blasphemous of you.”






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







abigail hargreaves






The giant grasped her hand and leaned in, his hot breath blowing onto her skin as his lips touched her hand, "Pleasure is all mine." Shivers went down her spine as he greeted her, this was unlike Abigail, but there was something about the man standing in front of her that made her feel ways. She shakes her head and tries to clear her mind of all the thoughts she was having, especially having them in a church. Her head turns to Joshua who was standing there, with a look in his eyes that screamed discomfort as Graham squeezed into the jacket he had brought for Abigail to wear.

Before she was able to say anything a bell rang throughout the building, it slightly alarmed the girl as she was unsure what was going on, but Josh spoke up in time to put her worries aside. "Oh, ah, that was our five-minute warning bell. Five minutes until… study starts." Once his hands went back to his sides, a sigh of relief escapes her lips, thankfully there was no danger, at least not weather wise, who knows how this bible study was going to go, but there was no turning back now. Her eyes turn to Joshua once more, nodding her head in understanding towards the reasoning behind the bell, she was grateful for his explanation, and gave him a quick "Thank you" sign.

It wasn't long after that Joshua looked over towards Graham and asked him if he would be joining the group, would it be a good thing to have a shirtless giant in bible study? Maybe not. That didn't stop Abby from chiming in, "You should totally join! It'll be loads of fun." her hands flying through the air as to not leave Max out of the conversation. There wasn't an answer from Graham yet, so it seemed like Josh took this chance to get his sister away from the group. He had claimed that their mom needed her, but last that Abigail knew, he was only with his brother greeting people, wouldn't his mom come and told him herself? Or even gone to get Mary?

She waited for Mary to walk off, with the look of defeat spread across her face before she went to say something to Josh, but Graham had already beat her to it. “You know, lying is a sin… And in a church? How blasphemous of you.” Abigail's eyes widen at the statement the man had just made, her hands basically screaming at this point translating the sounds into motions. Her body turned towards Joshua, "You just want the older people to hang out, I'm sure you're just looking out for your sister." Abigail signs and speaks, reassuring Josh that what he had done wasn't wrong in a sense, but it would definitely have some repercussions.






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 






Max




filler



filler



filler



filler



filler



filler






  • home (filler tab)

















































Abby and Josh both let Max know that a bell had gone off in the room, which explained why everyone jumped a few seconds ago. 5 minutes until bible study. Max was so nervous that he could practically feel his stomach turning inside out.

He looked over at Abby, his foggy blue eyes holding some sort of deep concern. They’d met almost a year ago in the hospital, at the single lowest points of both of their lives. They both knew things about each other that they knew better than to bring up in front of anyone else… right?
If Abby knew something about him he hadn’t told her, she wouldn’t ever out him in front of these people. She wouldn’t do that to him. No way.
He kept telling himself that, praying it was true.
She knows.
Of course she knows.
How could she not know?
You're so...
You're such a...


Joshua seemed to say something to Mary that had her leaving the room in dismay. Max, taken aback, watched her exit before turning in disbelief back to Abby, practically begging for an explanation of what just happened. By the time he turned his head, though, Graham The Shirtless Giant was already saying something to the tight-pantsed teen that included the word sin. “Sin… how… you.” That was all Max could read from Graham’s lips, and he wasn’t even sure about the accuracy of that, but it seemed accusatory.

Max raised his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly. He’d apparently missed quite a large piece of this while watching Mary leave.

Abby’s next comment to Josh, though, filled him in on what had happened.
"You just want the older people to hang out, I'm sure you're just looking out for your sister."

So they’d sent Mary off because they thought she was too young to hang out with them. That stung, thought Max, who was no stranger to being excluded himself. But wait…
Older people?
I'm... older people?

Max would never have admitted it, but that sent a strange rush of pride through him. He and Mary were actually the same age, but Abby considered him one of the older people. That at least meant she saw him as mature enough to hang out with these guys…

That burst of euphoria that came from getting to play with the big kids never went away no matter how old Max got, it seemed.

It felt nice to be included. To be seen as on equal footing with the others.
That did kind of make him feel bad about Mary getting brushed off, though…
She didn’t deserve that. She was too nice to be sent away like some little kid, but Max was too caught up in the moment to think about telling Josh that. He felt that he couldn’t say anything directly to Josh right now for fear of looking too long at his… figure.

Oy vey, those pants of Joshua’s were going to be haunting Max’s dreams for the next week at least.
Damn it, Max! Stop thinking about it!
Stop thinking about it before you...
NO. No no no.
Stop looking, stop looking, stop stop stopstopstopstop----


"So, uh, Josh..."
He blurted out, immediately breaking his own rule that he set for himself.
Stupid, Max. Stupid.
"How start... I mean, how does this usually start? Bible study, I mean. Not the, uh, you know, I..."
Max instantly became so flustered that he started mixing up words in his two languages, eventually having to drop speaking halfway through and just use his more comfortable signing. Abby would interpret anything Joshua didn't understand, hopefully.
"Sorry. I'm dumb."
He had to end his failed attempt at redirecting the conversation with an apology a self-deprecatory remark. Of course. That was a habit of his that Abby at least would be all too familiar with.

It just wasn't like Max to let himself get a word out without apologizing for having the audacity to say anything in public.







♡coded by uxie♡
 







silvana garth



  • .



The sun was rising beyond the horizon as Silvana crept her way up the stairs of the place she has called home, the Joplin Grand Hotel. Her shift had just ended at the club and she only had a few hours before she needed to be back up and ready to go out to a party with Cooper. The two had a love hate relationship, she didn't want anything more than a friends-with-benefits situation, but it seemed as though he wanted more from her. Ever since her last relationship, there was no way that she was getting into another one where she would end up feeling trapped, but thankfully with her other "relationship", Graham, things were mutual as just hookups. After riding the elevator up to the third floor and dragging herself to her room, her shoes are kicked off into the corner of the room in a messy pile of laces that were once wrapped around her leg up to her thighs. Silvana didn't even bother changing out of her work clothes before her head hit the pillow that was practically calling her name, within a few seconds she was fast asleep.

After a few hours sleep, the girl wakes up feeling refreshed, or at least as refreshed as 5 hours of sleep after a long night of dancing could make you. Opening up the blinds to let in the sun, Silvana was disappointed to see that it was a very cloudy day, this made her pull out her phone and check the weather, a hurricane was coming, just lovely. She fumbles her way into the bathroom to shower off the night before, and get ready for the day ahead. She was planning on going out with Cooper that night, and hopefully things would go well and she could get what she wanted by the end of the date. Once out of the shower, the girl was ready to get dressed, but what outfit would be appropriate for a hurricane? Definitely not anything flowy, she's not at work so she wouldn't be getting paid to flash people. A decision was made to wear some jean shorts, white t-shirt with stripes along the chest, and some white shoes, this seemed like a good choice for a casual hangout with someone.

Silvana killed some time by scrolling through Twitter, observing some drama going down around town, and reading updates about the hurricane. At this point, she decided to see what Graham was up to, especially if he ended up needing somewhere to stay during the hurricane, it wouldn't hurt to have a fuck-buddy around in dire times. Her messages app pulls up in a split second, and she started tapping away at the screen, "Maybe we can schedule a night as wild as this hurricane is supposed to be." The send button disappears under her thumb as she pushes down on it, the message pulling up to the top of the screen waiting for a response. All that was left for her to do was get her makeup done, which took almost no time as she has had a lot of practice, especially while working at Peaches.

Once she was completely dressed and had her makeup done, it was about 3pm, the sky had gotten darker, and there was rain beating down onto the window that was separating her from the outside world. If it came down any harder, it was sure to break through, but Silvana kept her fingers crossed that such a thing wouldn't happen, especially because she had no other place to go. This had been her home since she was 16, and she currently couldn't afford to move out, but with hopes that things worked out at the club and with her "side gig", she would be able to get out of this shithole. Planting herself back onto the bed, she opens up her messages once more and texts Cooper, "I'm ready whenever you get here. She sends the message and locks her phone once more, turning her attention to the current situation that was going on outside her window.






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







teo choi



  • .



Teo’s eye grew wide in a state of absolute true shock and horror. The robber had a gun? He was beefy? But worst of all; he was Russian. “Holy fuck,” he exhaled in complete and utter awe and admiration for the stranger before him. “And you tried to stop him - holy fuck bro. You’re fucked in the head for trying to stop him, hey. I would’ve just let Jesus take me there and then.” He began to make his trail towards the kitchen, beginning to open up various cabinets and drawers in search for something to create a sanctuary of sorts for Melon. Yeah, cause you were going to find a box in the cutlery drawer, right?

You know what? I bet it was that fucking asshole from three doors down. Putin or whatever his name is.” Teo mused as he pulled open the drawers, moving on to the next one and leaving the prior ones hanging for their dear lives. “He got all shitty at me the other day for not properly putting my recycling in the bin. But like… shit, who the fuck has time to go through other people's bins and inspect their recycling and shit, you know? Mother fucker must be bored shitless, or he has a small peepee complex.

The stranger asked him about Melon and how he came to be with him. Oh, it was a story to behold. Teo’s eyes glistened with delight, his face radiating the pure joy and ecstasy that he was given this opportunity to retell this classic tale. “Right, so - fucking get this. I’m trying to get out of the rain like.. Fuck, I was dodging in and out of all these shelters and trees and shit” It wouldn’t be Teo if he was to retell a story without a dramatisation. So, in true Teo form, he began to mimic his words, ducking and swerving from the invisible rain that terrorised the apartment. “And like I’m just standing under this tree like…” And Teo stood as still as he could, his body upright and tense. “I hear this like god awful sound. It fucking just like -” The following sound that came from the boy’s mouth was just as he described - a god awful sound. Mimicking the sound of a drowning rat, squealing and squeaking in pure terror in high octaves.

I look over, and what do I fucking see?” Teo held up the hand that held Melon with such care and compassion. “Little homie is fucking drowning in a nearby pothole. And all these fucking horrible people are just walking by like they can’t hear him screaming for his life. Like, have a fucking heart. You hear an animal in need, you go and save it, right?” The thought of Melon drowning almost brought tears to the boy’s eyes; he enveloped the rodent in his hands, bringing it close to his chest as it snuggled in deeper to the tea towel keeping him warm. “Like, what the fuck. Hey? Melon could have a family - he could have children. And people are just gonna let him die?! Those type of people is what’s wrong with society these days. They can just… fuck off, hey

A familiar item caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Like a dog, focused on a task at hand before having a treat wagged in its face, Teo’s demeanour shifted from a serious and dark, filled with compassion complexion to one full of joy and sunshine. “A box!” he chimed, picking up the now empty cereal box. He pulled out the plastic lining of the cardboard box, tipping out any extra pieces of crumbles upon his countertop. Finally, he slid Melon and the tea towel into the pits of the cereal box. “There we go little fella,” he cooed at the rodent who seemed to have given up struggling with Teo’s quirky behaviour “You’ll be nice and warm soon and then you can go back and see your twenty-five kids and six wives.







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 







joshua jones



  • .



Watching Mary walk away from the group in search of their mother made Joshua’s heart skin. Lying to his younger sister was an anchor, dragging him into the sea of regret and guilt. The anchor only continued to grow heavier as it seemed the people around him had picked up that he had lied to begin with. The ginger-haired man was the first to notice. Joshua’s ears turned to the same hue as the man’s hair, his lips parting as he was left almost speechless. “N-no, it wasn’t-” he began, stuttering over his words.

And then it was Abigail’s turn. Oh, how the scarlet pattern flowed from the top of his ears and began to creep into his cheeks. She began to speculate that he had sent Mary away so the older people could hang out. “No – No, that’s not-” he once again stuttered. He could feel his heart starting to pound in his ears; his chest began to shrink in size, encapsulating his lung and heart, suffocating them ever so gradually. It felt like there was something caught in his throat and every time he tried to swallow, it just made things worse. What was this feeling? It wasn’t the first time this overwhelming sense of dread had been eradicated through his very being. But it was defiantly the first time for it to occur so quickly and so publicly.

Keep it together, he internally scolded himself. Don’t make a scene. Just… try and be invisible. You’re good at that. You’re good at people not noticing who you are or that you’re there

Max, however, began to speak; his words becoming a shining glistering beacon of hope upon the shore as Joshua struggled in the thrashing, stormy waters. Bible study; how does it usually start? “Well, uh…” The boy attempted to gather whatever remains of his sanity that he could grasp onto in that present moment. Max then added on a rather negative stab at himself, saying that he was dumb. A frown skipped across Joshua’s face, his voice finding a form of stable ground and filling with compassion. “You’re not dumb. It’s… It’s okay. I mean… Its your first time here. It’s different” He managed to wrangle out, signing along the way.

What did they exactly do at Bible study, hey?

We uh… we start off together as a big group. An elder will talk about a scripture piece and give a small introduction to the passage. And then we split off into smaller groups and discuss what that scripture means to us, and how we can apply it to living as a witness… and then uh… Sometimes we pray afterwards. And after that we just… Catch up afterwards for some cake and coffee?” Joshua explained to the best of his ability. The more he spoke about it, the less he wanted to be there himself. The thought of public speaking to others had always daunted him, and whenever he was split into small groups, he was always placed into a group with his brothers or his parents. Whenever in those groups, they always made sure he said something. As the son of an elder, it was necessary for him to uphold a good projected example of what pleases Jehovah.







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 






I-SPIT-AT-COPS



  • .









scroll


Corners of his mouth ticked with evil glee, Ren hummed and nodded along dreamily to Teo’s awe. Lulled in admiration that pet eager hands to fluffy ego, the intruder was feeling particularly pampered. A conceited sigh escaped butter-smooth, as if having fulfilled a regular event in his life, a frequent do-gooder.

“I am rather strong.” Pedigree of pride, vain interest directed from hair to inspecting nails. “Jesus won’t be fighting my battles, no sir.”

His imaginary battles against big beefy Russians who have guns.

Yes.

Either way, Ren thought he could kill God if given the chance.

With Blondie on the move, heedless shoes shuffled a few steps closer before finding stability leaned against the counter. Chasing languid iris over their path of mayhem, it was a foreign instinct that wanted to reach out and push each drawer closed.

He repressed it. He was not a maid.

“I bet it was, even looked like a Putin.” Ren was instigating. “But listen, Frosty, I’ll be honest. You gotta scrap him. Show him who’s Top-Dog around here, you know? Otherwise you’re just asking for another break-in.”

Ren was going to get Teo killed.

“He’ll sneak in here, all ghostie-like, eat your cereal, touch your things,” his lips parted for a shallow gasp, “hurt your Melon.”

A chitter of kissed teeth, a signal of no, no, no, we can’t allow that.

Through the haze of Ren’s unwell mind, he was beginning to believe it himself. Fuck the intrusive lucky-charms-thieving neighbour.

You want that? No. You gotta man-up, Toots, defend your boy. Mel needs you.”

Let's beat him up.


Admittedly, sorting your recycling was a simple task. Based on how Teo clawed the kitchen apart, left the home in a horrific state of woe and allowed a stranger to linger without caution: Ren had since decided not to have high expectations. This guy was hopeless. Completely and utterly hopeless. The instinct of a toddler, in particular, was most jarring.

And there it was again, Teo shrouded in energy like a wave of mania. A lightswitch of sorts, a rush of light and smile.

Right, so - fucking get this.

Here we go. Ren huddled comfortably in his jacket, sleepy cinder gaze glued to the display. Darting back and forth, a dizzying yet appealing motion that stirred ripples in delayed vision. Impressive speed to the one stoked and slowed on Nyquil.

But alas, Teo was not normal.

Unstitching every suture of trust, it seized Ren with the same icy lapse that had jolted him several times already.

The screeching!

Like the Devil learning what regret feels like, shredding investment in the story and flashing lightning-like shock through Ren. He’d leapt back against the counter as if slapped, granite to bone, instinct intending to climb his way to safety. Such distress could hardly be bottled, wooden spoon once in hand now clattering against the floor in his alarm, eyes blown wide and hands extended out to protest any crazy lunges.

Ren could only whisper-scream.

“Why are you like this?!”

But Teo wasn’t finished.

Whilst Ren’s heart mauled the buttery shell of his ribs, the blonde spun on. Drowning in a pothole, they’d cradle the cat closer in arms of affection, you hear an animal in need, you go and save it, right?

“R-right. Yeah. Yes.” Ren echoed wearily, hands only just daring to lower from their defensive state. A voice not mocking, lukewarm. Strung taut in alarm, there was still space carved in his body for familiarity to shift in the pool of his chest: someone like him. Ankle printed with scar from childhood mistake, he harboured a fatal flaw of petting animals he shouldn’t.

Whether there was rhyme, reason or not for kidnapping neighbours pets, ogling eyes through pet-shop windows as if to cheat them into his greedy little hands through osmosis, dragging home stray dogs, mangy and flea-ridden to his mother’s distaste; yes, he supposed, someone like him.

Panic retreating to a safer distance, stare shifted from unhinged blonde to the cat. Head cant to the side, a lazy glimmer of a smile on his lips at the used cereal box. Remains dashed over the countertop, more mess added to the already abundant horde.

Hopeless Frosty.

But oh, Ren felt envy, to be a little animal in a Lucky-Charms box sounded dreamy. Pulled by the appeal of food— crumbs, a hand extended to pinch cereal leftovers for an additional snack.

“Well, where’s your six wives?” It was a question that had been hanging over his head like air. “You live alone?”

If by chance they were living alone, Ren chewed thoughtfully, then how the fuck was someone like this managing to stay alive.







Ancient and vicious, luscious as dark velvet

it blooms in you, a poppy made of ink.

#the gains #neighbour hateclub #oh my GOD







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 
MOOD: Worried

OUTFIT: Slush Slash Puppie

LOCATION: Chalamet building, Vodianova residence
basics
MENTIONS:

Ashley tamarapasek tamarapasek


INT:

Charlie doedeer doedeer


tags
TL;DR:
tl;dr
Dustin Thackery
All the best people have gone mad
"Shouldn't mom be home by now?" Chrissy asked, her voice small and quivery with distress. Squeezing in beside her older brother to peek out the window at the raging storm. Dustin swallowed, picturing his mother getting washed away in flood waters rushing down streets like a landslide. He was trying not to panic internally, but the anxiety of somehow losing the only parent he had left was something that always plagued him.

He didn't know how he could possibly cope with that again, especially as he hadn't even properly dealt with the trauma of his father's death yet. It was something he just threw a metaphorical bandaid on and kept it pushing, despite the obvious behavorial issues that bubbled up as a result; the acting out, petty vandalism, committing cyber crimes. Things he might never have tried if he'd stayed on the good boy path he'd always faithfully walked before things started going south for the Thackery family.

Dustin just shook his head to dismiss the little girl's worry, forcing a weak smile. "She's coming," the older sibling insisted, making sure his voice was calm and reassuring. Playfully ruffling the younger's flaxen curls to comfort her.

"Stay here," he commanded before opening the door, immediately smacked in the face by a fierce gust of wind as he stepped onto the landing. Gazing out over the block in hopes of spotting his mother trudging through the storm on her way home. Despite the July heat, the sudden assault of cold rainwater brought a chill down his spine, and the sight of the dirty, churning water that covered the streets didn't help. The way it splashed up against the building made his heart suddenly lurch into his throat--Ashley! She lived on the ground floor. What if she was stuck there alone with baby Tony? Surely their whole apartment has to be completely flooded by now.

Without another thought he made a dash for the stairs. Dustin winced as his feet were plunged into the cold water, but sloshed on ahead as quickly as he could, scrambling to Ashley's apartment on the other side of the building. Of course it was completely dark inside and the door was locked. Smushing his forehead against the nearest window pane, he glanced inside, but saw no movement besides the inches of flood water swirling around. He fished around his pocket for his phone but quickly realized he'd left it home; a fortunate mistake, as his clothes were completely drenched now.

The boy was just beginning to make the miserable plod back to his apartment when something out of place caught his eye. Dustin turned to squint through the deluge at a house down the street and sure enough, a small figure was curled up on the roof, getting pummeled by the rain. Curiosity drove the boy to wade towards it, and a spark of recognition made him pick up the pace. This was Charlie's house. A new friend, but he was almost positive the freshman lived there. He also knew of her older brother Drew, a kid in his grade and fellow skater in the neighborhood, and Dustin was sure he'd seen the other boy going in and out of there.

Running as best he could through the flooded streets, he stopped in the waterlogged yard to stare up at the figure, clad in a soaking wet hoodie. When she lifted her head, her sopping, sandy blonde strands stuck to her face, Dustin could see that it was in fact Charlie on the roof, trembling like one of those poor, forgotten pups in the ASPCA commercial.

"Charlie! Are you okay??" Dustin cupped his hands over his mouth as he yelled to project his voice over the din of the storm. "Come down! You're gonna die of pneumonia out here!" He blinked patiently up at her, using the back of a hand to wipe away the raindrops that relentlessly pelted his eyes.

code by valen t.
 
















Loverboy



A-Wall








Graham Byrne







Graham was a bastard. Yes, he could admit it sometimes. He was self-aware enough to admit when he was being a bit of a bastard, but sometimes. Sometimes it was just really really funny, okay?

Watching Josh flounder for words was funny. Watching Abi try to cover up the rudeness was funny. It was all just… Graham was very happy that his resting expression was a smile, because he didn’t think that he could cover up just how delighted he was to cause so much chaos with just a couple of words.

That is to say, his delight in other people’s suffering never actually surfaced on his face, instead his expression remained perfectly vacant and brainless. Like he didn’t realize how much impact his words had just had.

Josh was still stuttering over his words, probably a denial of the very real sin that he’d just committed. Graham was absolutely delighted to see his brain break just a little bit.

“Of course not, lad.” He said, with a small laugh. A hearty thump of his back.

And then they were talking about Bible study again.

Graham had gone to a Catholic school for most of his primary and secondary schooling. Rulers being slapped on his knuckles, the memorization of biblical quotes. The whole nine.

And when she’d died, he’d been shoved into a box and told to pray until he felt better… and when that hadn’t worked, he’d been subjugated to an exorcism…

He’d not had the best impression of school, that is to say.

Space fact! The Milky Way is a barred spiral galaxy.

And he absolutely did not want to do Bible study. What was this, school? He didn’t need to go to school anymore. He’d already graduated, thank you very much. No more Bible study for him!

So instead, he stood.

“I’m good, lad, you said that there were drinks and snacks in the kitchen, yeah?” And before Josh could respond, he’d slipped out of the room.

It was a hunt for alcohol, and he was hoping that someone that had also taken refuge was in the same boat as he was when it came to drinking to get through all this prayer and preaching of a religion he barely even followed.

And really, what was the fun of drinking if you didn’t go until you barely remembered your own name and the look of red hair partially buried in snow and woke up with a mild hangover in some stranger’s bed?

Another space fact! When you enter a black hole, the boundary of no escape is called an event horizon.

Graham eventually found what he was looking for: a discarded bottle of vodka. He picked it up and carried it back to the group.

“Alright I’m back. What’d I miss?” And then he took a drink from the bottle.






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 



Charlie Vodianova







♫ only ones who know - arctic monkeys (rainy edition) ♫
mood: slightly relieved, dejected, unsure
outfit: click
location: the chalamet building
interactions: dustin Qwertycakes Qwertycakes
mentions: ash tamarapasek tamarapasek
oli Chimney Swift Chimney Swift

drew doedeer doedeer

the blonde girl could feel herself shutting down. by now she’d stopped looking around in hopes of dad or drew coming to her rescue. every time she’d look out into the distance her eyes were met with the same nauseating feeling that came with her dream. dreary, loud, overwhelming.

she felt that same pang of despondancy she’d felt all those years she held onto her mother’s return. dad isn’t coming. drew isn’t coming. mom is definitely… the rain had made charlie soaking wet in mere minutes and with the fret of it all, emersed her body in a constant shiver.

–gone. she’s gone.

thoughts like these assailed her mind just as hard as the rain did. it was the first time she’d conclude her mother’s disappearance in bitter confidence.

god i wish i had my headphones at least.

“Charlie! Are you okay??”

the girl slowly turned her head up towards the voice–unsure if her mind had started to play mean tricks on her. through the rainy haze, she saw someone

dustin?


he was calling her down. she gulped hard, unable to find words to respond, but a strange sense of relief washed over her as she stumbled into a hunched stand–readying her descent. charlie didn’t expect anyone to find her, much less a boy she'd barely met only a couple weeks before. struggling for a moment to find the right footing, she held onto the ridges to finally plop down onto the muddy floor--cringing again at her converse sinking into the mud. her hands gripped onto the metal fence that separated the yard from the front door and swung it open, dragging her legs through the rising undertow.

charlie looked up at him dejected and admittedly guilty, still unable to get herself to speak properly–especially not now that the two were closely caught up in the unforgiving drench. she wasn't sure how long he'd been out there before making his way towards her house, but the boy was clearly sodden with rain. and with no covering to shield himself either. charlie couldn’t help but feel terrible he had even come out to coerce her down in her frozen state. she must have looked ridiculous, she thought. “i’m sor–” her quiet voice would be drowned out by the rain.

before she’d even get the chance to say anything he’d motion them both out of the yard and towards the building–charlie clumsily running close behind.

as they came through the door, her eyes widened at the flooding inside. the sight forced a concerned stammer, “a-ashley–is ashley okay? a-and oli, are they both--” she said, still scanning the first floor in terror before briskly turning around to meet dustin's eyes filled with uncertainty. it didn't seem like he knew for sure either.


 

















mood



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location



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interactions: jodie Chimney Swift Chimney Swift
mentions:













serenity



”run me my money.”






Something in her had told her to not let Rat into her home, she really should have listened. It didn’t take long before he started his shit. Ren ran a hand over her face and held it there for a few moments. Sometimes she really wanted to shake him until what little brains he had were knocked loose. Or maybe she’d fix whatever was going on up there. Either way her hands were twitching, ready to grab at a moment’s notice. When she opened her eyes again, Ren let out a string of curses.

“Are you a damn DOG?!” Rat had already managed to rile her up. She didn’t care, she was happy to give him the reactions that he seemed to crave. And when he sat his soaked body on her coach, Ren made it over in a few steps, all but lunging at the annoyance. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU.” She shook him a few times. “Go dry off before scalp you.”

Ren continued to shake him. “Better yet, I’ll throw you out in the rain. Let the strays get to you, they’ll be hungry soon enough.”












nine lives

 
MOOD: losing your house to flood damage core

OUTFIT: has never listened to nirvana

LOCATION: Chalamet Building
basics
MENTIONS:

INT:

Chimney Swift Chimney Swift
tags
TL;DR Sed fermentum tortor nulla, vel sodales nibh bibendum eu. Maecenas a lacus a libero blandit commodo. In lobortis aliquam urna, id tempor ex semper at
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ashley park
I'm not that nice, I'm mean and I'm evil, don't call me nice


"Shit shit shit. Just stop crying okay?" Ashley whispered in a hushed tone as Tony began to bawl in her arms. Even the little fucker knew that something was wrong, it seemed even if he didn't know what floods were. John merely glanced over to frown, before patting Ashley's shoulder encouragingly. "I'm sure you can calm him down kiddo. You're always good with that." He offered a smile, before ringing the doorbell of the Dreyfus apartment.

Truthfully, Ash didn't know what to make of the new living arrangements. She liked Oli, he was a good friend of hers, sure but living with him and his entire family? Hell, she barely even knew them, and now she had to live in their home? What if they were murders? Or perverts? Or worse, way too chummy?

As the door swung open, the alleged Mrs Chummy Murderer Pervert answered the door, immediately focusing her attention on Mr Park. John simply smiled courteously, in an attempt to appear polite yet humble, as if he totally wasn't enjoying the attention. “Eileen! The place looks lovely, don't even worry about it. Really, we're all just thrilled you invited us to stay here fpr a while. The small family entered the room, John quickly walking over to the table one of Oliver's sisters had set up while Ash stood in the doorway with baby Tony. Where was Oli anyway? The turtle loving boy offered a familiar face which Ash desperately needed in this weird new environment, and she couldn't help but notice he wasn't part of the welcome comittee.

Truthfully, seeing anyone else at the door would've been better than watching her father as he began to relentlessly flirt with Oli's freaking mother. Though certainly an improvement from the days when he was trying to get with Deirdre, it still felt all kinds of wrong for him to hit on the parent of a friend like that. Not that she'd expected better from him. No, him kissing Eileen's ass for her generosity was completely on brand. Even when they weren't sure whether their belongings were safe or their apartment would be usable after tonight, his priority was on getting attention.

She should've just asked to stay with the Thackery's or something. Not blindly followed her dad while he tried to win over some old pale zombie chick while everyone collectively ignored the still-bawling baby. She gently rocked him back and forth, calming him ever so slighty into noisy sobs rather than a full blown tantrum.

She glanced around the room, praying Oli was somewhere just out of her line of vision. Much to her delight, he was sprawled on the couch with a turtle book.

Sashaying over, she plopped down next to him on the couch. For a while, she didn't say anything, letting the sobs of Tony fill the air. Despite her efforts, the kid really wouldn't shut up, not for a bottle, not for a lullaby, not for anything. Geez, how very Dustbin of him. Then again Dustbin would probably say she had those traits. Which was absurd, she was an obvious goddamn delight. Nevertheless, Tony's insistence on continuing his lament lead her to glance half apologetically at Oliver.

"Turtle book, huh?" She finally spoke, attempting to deflect rather than apologize for her little bitch brother's bitching. Not being shushed, she continued to talk, finally removing the duffel bag which carried her valuables. "Oh yeah and like, I just wanted to say thanks. For sharing you room and shit. I probably wouldn't wanna share mine either. Oh by the way? Where do I like put my shit? Is there like a closet or something?"

And yes, as she would find out, there was a closet where all of Ashley's belongings went. But Ashley was also a sweet summer child. One who was blissfully unaware of where unwanted kids slept in the Dreyfus challenge.



code by valen t.
 






Oliver




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Todrick Hall



Painting in the Rain










Oliver hissed sharply, nearly tumbling over the couch trying to get as far away from the squalling infant as possible.

"Turtle book, huh?" Commented Ashley, in a valiant attempt to distract from the brewing disaster. Surely the girl wasn't surprised that her friend was reading about his favorite marine reptiles.

Oliver, who saw that he now had the book raised upwards over his head as if preparing to defend himself physically from the baby, realized the threatening gesture and lowered it instantly. He nodded, looking down at the cover as if to remind himself what exactly he was reading… hypocritical to the fact that this was the only book he owned. “From the library.” He clarified, almost too softly to be audible over Tony shrieking like a banshee. “I ch.checked this… this out at least fifty-– fifty s-seven times this year and then– and then they just said I should keep it because… b-because nobody else ever checks out this b… this b-b-book.” He cleared his throat sharply, feeling his perpetual stutter starting to muddle his words into unintelligible mush. “So now i-it’s… it’s my book.” He finished his little spiel, but he hadn’t even looked at Ashley the whole time. His eyes were locked on that infernal baby. "Did you know that a-almost anything will prey on a b-b-baby sea turtle? Raccoons will dig up the eggs, a-and so will humans, and ghost crabs and dogs and fish and... and... and... but compared to other sp-species of turtle, rates of cannibalism are pret-t-ty low... Red-eared sliders will eat their own under duress, and..."

Oliver couldn't quite discern the baby's reaction to his tangent about turtle cannibalism.
If given the chance, Oliver would absolutely trade Tony away to The Goblin King for some quiet and he wouldn’t even think twice about it.
It didn’t occur to him that Ashley might not appreciate this.

Luckily, though, Ashley seemed not to mind right now. "Oh yeah and like, I just wanted to say thanks. For sharing your room and shit. I probably wouldn't wanna share mine either. Oh by the way? Where do I like put my shit? Is there like a closet or something?"

“There is a closet,” Oliver said flatly, standing up from the couch and walking off towards it. He didn’t motion for Ashley to follow after him, but he knew that she would. Ashley, at this point, must be good and used to Oliver wandering off mid-conversation.

The two young kids passed through the cramped kitchenette, where their parents seemed to be having the time of their lives in a playful conversation. Oliver didn’t remember the last time he saw his mother so jubilant. It felt like watching a carnivorous shore crab play gently with a sea turtle hatchling.
Jarring, unnatural, and very likely to end in bloody death.

He staggered to a halt as he caught sight of his mother, who was laughing at something that must have been a joke, placing her hand on John Park’s thigh and leaning in close enough to say something softly into the man’s ear. Oliver didn’t know how to explain why watching them act like this instantly made him feel nauseous.

He couldn’t remember a time when his own father had ever been so up-close and friendly with his mother as Mr. Park was. In the years leading up to his father’s disappearance, his parents were hardly ever even in the same room together.

He was stuck staring at the two adults just as he would at a burning car wreck, until his mother looked up from her cheery banter to give him a sour glare and he skittered off with Ashley to the old walk-in closet at the end of the short hallway.

When Oliver said there was a closet, he had failed to mention to Ashley that this 6-by-8 foot wooden box was actually serving as his entire bedroom. He must not have thought that little fact was relevant.

He pulled open the creaking door to reveal a space that was smaller than most death row cells. Though the boy had few belongings, the closet was as cramped and claustrophobic as any coffin. He looked over at Ashley, but had no shame or apologies for her. He looked back blankly as if this was a perfectly normal place to have led her to. “You can have the mattress.” He said, his timidly flat affect unwavering. “...I-I don’t think you want to though. But I’m good at sleeping on the floor, so… so… either way. I don’t care. But we can’t put Tony in here. Absolutely not.”







♡coded by uxie♡
 
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MOOD: Worried

OUTFIT: Slush Slash Puppie

LOCATION: Chalamet building
basics
MENTIONS:


INT:

Charlie doedeer doedeer


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Dustin Thackery
All the best people have gone mad
Dustin watched Charlie obediently drag herself off the roof, his midnight brown eyes wide with concern as she splashed down to the yard beside him and began her wobbly stagger to the gate. She looked quite upset, damn near traumatized actually, not to mention completely sodden to the bone. He had no idea how to comfort the poor girl, or if such a gesture would even be welcomed, as they were by no means close friends. Dustin decided the best thing he could do for her was try to get her out of the rain as fast as possible.

Charlie opened her mouth to speak but no sound he could register seemed to follow, nor did she attempt to try again. Dustin put a hand on her back in effort to go ahead and comfort her, as well as gingerly guide her forward to begin the trek through the flooded street. "Come on," He insisted as gently as he could while still being loud enough to be heard over the rain, motioning towards the Chalamet building with his free hand. "Let's go back to my place. No power but at least it's not half underwater, right?" He gave an encouraging smile before pressing on ahead, glancing back to make sure Charlie followed.

"I don't know," Dustin gave a sigh to her question as the pair waded through the Chalamet courtyard. "I went to Ash's place but she wasn't there." Though relieved that she wasn't stuck in the flood, he still sounded anxious and uncertain. In his haste to get to Ashley's, he hadn't even given a thought to his other good friend, Oliver, and if he was okay. Dustin could only shrug sheepishly when Charlie asked about him also, choosing to brood quietly as he made it to the higher ground of the staircase. No need to burden Charlie with his worries, she seemed to be struggling enough as it was.
code by valen t.
 



Drew Vodianov






♫eightball - they are gutting a body of water♫
mood: coming down hard, guilty, irritated

outfit: click (sopping wet & with scrapes and bruising all over his face)

location: the chalamet building


interactions: charlie doedeer doedeer
dustin Qwertycakes Qwertycakes


mentions: kenzie neverbackdown neverbackdown ash tamarapasek tamarapasek

his car of the day: click

“fuck fuck fuck!”

drew couldn’t have planned an outing away from joplin more ill-timed than last night. it was supposed to be a couple-hour affair. in fact, kenzie was supposed to come with. picking up opiates in larger quantities was always dicey business and with the police cracking down on joplin’s crime this summer, he would be forced to outsource his drugs elsewhere–this time in a neighboring town, some desolate junkyard of a small borough east of his turf. the reason he’d left kenz behind and pursued the coup alone was a bit unavoidable. the time window was small. he needed to leave right that second if he’d get to his destination by 6am. so he did. she wouldn’t be so upset–afterall he’d be sharing his score with her the night after.

his plans didn’t go so well anyhow. due to the main guy he’d spoken to on his burner phone being unpresent at the time of his arrival. instead, he was met by a doubtful group of thugs who’d kidnap him for the time being. as bad as that sounds, he was only in their basement for an hour of witlessly aggressive interrogation before the ringleader showed up and cleared the entire misunderstanding. but of course, being the sixteen year old dealer he was–the punking had just begun.


hours of being forced into trying their new methamphetamines, playing pool and talking back and forth over things drew could barely even make total sense of at this point, he found himself dazedly speeding down a rainstormed path back into his city. what’d he expect really? it was probably best kenzie wasn’t around for that. especially the initial brutality. he might have to explain the scrapes and bruises on his face, but the rest was not to be talked about. in fact, he was quite honestly embarrassed to have been punked out so bad but it wasn’t really his first rodeo when meeting new suppliers. the curse of being young and scrawny with no ‘gang’ to back him up. at least that was over and a sense of mutual respect was made. hey…it was a free high i guess. could’ve been aloooot worse.

i’m never trying meth ever again.

and i need to get a gun.


his frustration over the drive back into joplin was only heightened by the comedown and it was evident in the way he drove. first off, he was technically driving a stolen car, and rather recklessly,–whether or not the owners knew it was missing from the auto repair shop. however with the raging storm, lou’s had to have been closed by now. and who knows how long it’d go on for. it seemed to only get worse the closer he got to the city.

aside from his aggression and overall mental discomfort heightening more and more every second, drew's body felt like it was on fire--aches and pains shooting through the joints in his shoulders and neck. his face felt hot, but his hands were clammy and he was gritting his teeth down like a motherfucker. this is such a fucking bitch. not only was he coming down from the methamphetamines, he had been withdrawing from opiates for the past few days. thankfully as soon as he found charlie, he could properly dose himself and this terrible feeling would cease to exist. he tried to focus on that pillar of hope as he continued his heedless coasting down the streets.

as he neared the flooded area of his neighborhood, the anxiety built up at the pit of his stomach. aside from the fact this car would definitely be retaining some engine damage from driving in this condition, he knew charlie would probably be still asleep.

and if she isn’t… she has to be freaking out right now.

god im so fucked.


drew couldn’t help but feel guilty. it was hard to depend on dad to do anything. in fact, he’d be surprised if he was even there. since mom left, drew was all charlie had. and right now, he was failing her. how was i supposed to know a huge storm would hit out of nowhere? either way he looked at it was bad.

he fumbled around in his pocket for a xanax bar and took it dry. probably not the best idea to take one right before seeing his sister, but drew was struggling through the comedown and it was only getting more intense--like a terribly long freefall. in his eyes, this was the only thing that could alleviate him quick enough--relax him a bit. only one bar couldn't be so bad...

slowing to a muddled stop, he put the car in park as best as he could–gearing himself ready to open the door & start looking for his sister. he made sure to leave the drugs in a safe spot in his backpack. drew would surely return for them after.

“charlie!....charlie, it’s drew where are you?” drew hollered as he passed by the opened metal fence, did she leave on her own?

he proceeded to enter the building, calling out for charlie. after going through every room with no sign of the blonde girl, he decided the chalamet building was his best bet. he wasn’t spending much time with his younger sister this summer, but he vaguely knew of her friendship with one of the girls in the building. ashlynn–no, ashley maybe? something like that.

drew trudged through the deluged street feeling the affects of the xanax bar in waves, causing him to struggle through the walk. in the distance he was sure he’d seen the front door to the shitty apartment close. “hey!” he shouted and started to run briskly–water splashing everywhere as he did.

upon entering, he slammed the door open and was met with two sets of eyes staring back at him.

it was charlie. and.. oh. that guy from the skatepark. drew had known of dustin through their mutual interest of skateboarding, but drew never really talked with him much. the kid was a grade younger than him and wasn’t really the type of person drew considered very cool. even so…

what’s charlie doing with this dude?

it didn’t matter. among the loud rain pelting on the windows and the rising water, there wasn’t exactly much incentive to start chit chatting. whatever, thank god. now we can just go to mckenzie’s and figure out what to do next.

“aye–charlie!” drew said bluntly–motioning for his younger sister to follow him. “thank god i was worried about you. come over here, i’ll take us–”



 
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Charlie Vodianova







♫ something in water - men i trust ♫
mood: grateful, upset, dismissive,
outfit: click

location: the chalamet building
interactions: dustin Qwertycakes Qwertycakes
drew doedeer doedeer
mentions: ash tamarapasek tamarapasek
oli Chimney Swift Chimney Swift


charlie was more than appreciative of dustin’s gesture to save her, but the entire situation was still unnerving and horribly unfamiliar. as he spoke about ashley and oli, her eyes still wandered around the floor in rising despair. she tried to slow her heaving with more controlled breaths. she was safe now. she had to focus on that for now. and her friends had to be safe right? there was some sort of confidence grasped from that. just minutes ago she was in complete panic mode, but now..

as they climbed a few stairs to elude the water, her wide blue eyes met with dustin’s low gaze. he’d try to mask his dejection, but somehow she could still sense it. she felt it too and probably for similar reasons. “thank you.” she uttered softly, breaking her eye contact at the words. water dripped down the side of her cheek to which she wiped off, “i don’t know what got into me up there…–s-sorry you got wet.” she bit the inside of her cheek, still looking at the floor and trying to keep her shivering to a minimum. charlie hoped that wasn’t an awkward thing to say, but her brain wasn’t exactly in the right place at the moment. even if she didn’t look entirely panicked, it usually took some time for charlie to destress herself. she was never really good at handling new experiences well–much less something so intense and unexpected.

suddenly the door swung open and a familiar face entered the room with a drunken-like stumble over the watery floor. drew.

at first, her only thought consisted of rushing over to his side, but she didn’t move a muscle. instead, her eyebrows burrowed and she turned away.

“yo–charlie, thank god i was worried about you. come over here ill take us–”

“take us where?” the young girl cut him off bluntly, shaking as she rose her voice,

“where have you even been? i-i was all alo–”, charlie cut herself off abruptly, refraining from sharing any of the feelings that burned at her throat. “nevermind–just…fuck off okay.” she looked up at dustin expectantly, “let’s go.”

“charlie wait..what the fuck–do you even know him?” her older brother returned with confused shock on his face–briefly flashing an irritating glance at the blonde boy, “c’mon charlie stop–we can go to kenzie’s and just chill out.”

it was obvious at this point drew was on something.

of course.

acknowledging it just made charlie more upset and she could feel the tears coming, but there was no way she was about to shed a single tear in front of dustin.

he just enters the room like he didn’t leave me crying on the roof, like he hasn’t just been gone the entire summer–nearly the entire year–just getting fucked up joyriding in stolen cars with his stupid girlfriend…. fuck you. thoughts swirled around her head making her face hot with anguish.

charlie was never like this. it was just unlike her to speak up against her brother or anyone for that matter. it was surely a surprise to her older brother and by the look on his face, even whatever drug he’d been on couldn’t mask his irritability for her uncooperation. she’d definitely be feeling embarrassed about showing that side to dustin later, but for now it just couldn’t be helped. it was one thing for dad to go missing. he always went missing. but drew never seemed to be there anymore. especially the times she needed him most.

“i don’t wanna go with you. just go get high like you always do and leave me alone.” she crossly replied, already taking steps in front of dustin to continue their ascent up the creaky stairs. she swallowed hard, keeping a straight face as she walked. charlie was done talking to drew. he’d continue to call her out until the two disappeared up the stairwell.


 







abigail hargreaves






She didn't mean to seem confrontational to Josh, but that's how it seemed have been received by him. Immediate regret fills her mind, she shouldn't have said anything to the boy about him sending off Mary, but it was too late now. "I didn't mean to come off accusatory, I just thought that was what was going on. I'm sorry, Josh." Her eyes pleading for forgiveness over something that was just a misunderstanding, this was typical of her though, she never wanted to purposely hurt anyone, especially someone who is as innocent as Josh.

Graham had given him a hard time too, but took a different route about moving past it than Abigail did, he gave the boy a pat on the back and just brushed it off instead. She wished she could be more like that, but her apologetic nature was not something that would be easy to grow out of. It was how she had been her whole life, or at least as far as she could remember. At this point though it was the least of her concerns, all she was focused on at this point was getting through bible study.

At that moment Max spoke up, which was a very rare occurrence, Abby had only heard him speak maybe three or four times in the length of their friendship, so for him to rarely do it in private and then all of a sudden speak up in public was a big step for him. She was actually very proud of the boy for trying to step out of his comfort zone, but it seemed like he didn't really enjoy it too much as he stopped speaking and kept signing asking about how the bible study worked.

Josh began explaining to the group how things would go, it seemed pretty simple, but then again, didn't everything in explanation seem easy? There would be a lot of listening to religious scriptures and discussing them as well, which meant Abby would have to pay attention. She didn't agree to that part, only to just show up, if only there were a way to get through both studies without falling asleep, things would be great. At this point, Graham had walked off to do.. something. Who knows what this strange man would be doing aside from trying to get out of attending the studies just as much as Abby was. The giant returned holding a bottle of vodka from who knows where, but it was extremely enticing to the girl and she was determined to be able to have a few sips of it. This meant getting the man alone so she could ask him without Max or Josh finding out.






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Max




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Joshua’s explanation of the Bible Study Protocol contained a small yet catastrophic error.

“We uh… we start off together as a big group. An elder will talk about a scripture piece and give a small introduction to the passage. And then we split off into smaller groups and discuss what that scripture means to us, and how we can apply it to living as a witness… and then uh… Sometimes we pray afterwards. And after that we just… Catch up afterwards for some cake and coffee?”

See, Joshua didn’t sign coffee.
In his haste to communicate effectively in 2 languages at once, Tight Pants Josh had botched signing the last word ever so slightly and drastically changed the meaning of the sentence.
“And after that we just… Catch up afterwards for some cake and MAKE OUT”

Max turned bright red and just about fainted off the couch.
Nothing on Joshua’s face indicated that making out was what he meant… ASL was just as much a language of facial expression as it was a language of the hands and fingers, if not more so. If Josh meant they were going to all climb into a cuddle pile and swap spit after reflecting on scripture, he would’ve indicated that somehow, right? And it just totally came out of nowhere.

The vision of all of them tangled up in each other’s mouths, though, had burned its way into his brain and threatened to blind him with shame.
STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!
STOP IT.
STOP BEING GROSS, MAX.


Max, nearly choking and clearly mortified, meekly corrected
"...Coffee?

He wanted to run out of the room. He’d take his chances with the hurricane over this. But he didn’t. He stayed, visibly cringing, looking as though he were trying to crumple up and disappear.
"Sorry. I thought you said..."
Max trailed off, hands clenching and unclenching wordlessly before he gave up, shaking his fingers as though he’d gotten them dirty. “
"It's nothing. Sorry."

Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
They think you're stupid.


How foolish and naive he had been, thinking that the worst part of being stuck here was going to be trying to keep his religious differences a secret. A much bigger secret of his threatened to spill at any moment.

That was when he caught sight of Giant Shirtless Graham casually re-entering the cafe lounge with an inexplicable bottle of clear liquor.
Oh no.
He frantically looked at Abby, his eyes darting back and forth to see if she was seeing what he was seeing. Was vodka even allowed in a church? Has this been what Christianity was like this whole time and he had no idea!? Was this normal??

"Is there a bathroom here?"
Max asked hurriedly, a sense of urgency in his sharp motions, but he just as quickly changed his mind and shoved the question away to the side. Too late to try to escape now.
"Sorry. I know we were just about to start… actually never mind, I can wait. I just… we’re starting right now, right? You mentioned an elder…"
Max didn't even know what an elder was. Maybe the elder was Josh, for all he knew, and he was about to look even more stupid. Maybe they were all going to have to drink vodka. He had no idea what to expect.
All he could think of was how dare his parents not tell him what he was getting into.







♡coded by uxie♡
 







joshua jones



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The fiery Irishman was on the prowl, and Joshua didn’t know whether he should feel scared or relieved. A part of him was quite satisfied with the shirtless male walking off and finding his own way around because it all honesty, his brother had only asked him to go and look after Mary. Graham was nowhere near Mary and therefore, his job was complete. It meant that he didn’t have to spend his time with someone who made him feel like a horrible, little worm. With Graham gone, it also meant that Abigail was safe. But was Abigail ever really in danger to begin with? I mean, technically… no. Not her. Her soul though… After all, what would Jehovah do, right?

Sadly, Graham returned shortly after his departure. This time, he was walking around with… Dear Lord, was that the vodka they had confiscated from the teenagers that decided to drink near their dumpster? Joshua felt like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull and dance along the floor from being so shocked. If we could have your attention please; the funeral for Joshua Jones will be held at twelve o’clock on Saturday. Because there was no way in heck he was going to make it out tonight alive while spending time with this man. Joshua was praying internally that his brothers would return soon and just… sort Graham out. Because, quite frankly, this man’s situation and deal was just too messy for the hands of this eighteen-year-old.

Max’s sudden urgent request for a bathroom was a sign from Jehovah above; an escape, at last! If his parents or brothers asked why he was far from the shaggy red-haired man who was getting drunk in their kingdom hall, at least he could give the excuse of bringing someone new to the bathroom, right? “It’s okay!” Joshua signed back, looking at Max but eyeballing Graham from the corner of his eyes. “I’ll bring you. I need to go to the bathroom too.” He paused for a moment. Would Abigail be okay? I mean, she seemed more headstrong than Mary and didn’t look like a girl who would just go head over heels for any guy walking in. But this wasn’t any guy. It was a long red-haired, toned, shirtless Irish man with a thick accent and a bottle of Vodka to throw back. In other words, it was temptation.

We’ll be right back” he announced to the other two (well, mainly to Abigail), before motioning for Max to follow him towards the bathroom. Honestly, it was just around the corner. But he was praising Jehovah that it was the reason he was able to get out of that situation in one piece. As he entered the bathroom, he held it open to allow Max to enter. And then he went straight to the urinal. As he stood there, doing his business, he couldn’t help but let a deep exhale; one that came straight from the soul. Maybe… just maybe… had he not been able to get his pants dry enough in time his parents would’ve just sent him home for the night. Dream big, darling, I suppose.







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teo choi



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The rodent squeaked in a shivering delight as it curled into the towel at the bottom of the cereal box. Teo had been so full of admiration for the creature that for a split second, the stranger before him had faded away into nothingness. It was just him and Melon. It almost seemed too perfect. It was only when he heard the voice of the other person that he was ripped back into reality; torn away from the sunshine and oasis where he had mentally envisioned himself and his new little pet to find solitude. Teo raised a brow in confusion as the man asked about his six wives. Wait, who had six wives?

Was… was this guy ok?

Did he need some like… help?

For the next question, however, Teo was confident in this answer. He resembled a child who had been asked a question that he finally knew in a classroom full of judgemental peers. His eyes widened and he stood on the tips of his toes for a moment of lift-off. “Yeah!” his voice radiating the sun that had been missing during this disgusting afternoon downfall. “Yeah, this is uhh… This is my apartment. I live here by myself. No – not by myself anymore.” He picked up the cereal box, giving it a little shake. “With my little Melon now too. He’s going to make the perfect housemate. I can already tell.

Drip, drip, drip

A cold shiver ran down his spine. Water trickled down his neck as it began to leak from the roof above. Curiously, Teo gazed up towards the ceiling in hopes of finding its source. The water continued to drip, hitting him on his forehead; a clear bullseye shot right in between his eyes. “Oh… that’s not good” he tutted to himself. It had been a while since they had had a storm like this. In fact, Teo was still surprised how this whole apartment complex was still standing. Now, I suppose he could find some nice, affordable living situation with the weekly bank transfers his father sent. But it would mean he would have to relocate to those places sober. And, well, remain sober. Because he couldn’t have both. He couldn’t have a nice place and not be sober. There just wasn’t enough money in the budget to do that.

A light bulb flickered from above his head; he had an idea.

His eyes darted towards the pot pan situated in one of the cupboards whose door was already wide open and ready to be greeted. Teo snatched it with his raccoon grasp and returned to the scene of the crime. Placing the pot on the ground, he aligned it with the dripping water until finally – Tink. Tink. Tink. The pot began to successfully catch the water as it tortuously invaded his apartment. “There we go.” he exhaled proudly as he stood back, his hands upon his hips. He had done the bare minimum but in Teo’s eyes, it was the best he could’ve done in this situation. A wide grin of achievement stretched across his face – only to be wiped away seconds later.

Crash!

Teo’s automatic reflex was to grab the cereal box, holding it close to himself. His mouth hung, his jaw an anchor dragging him down. Before him (and thankfully behind the stranger) was once a ceiling that covered the living room. Keeping it safe and providing him with shelter. But now, there was no shelter or safety before him. A gaping hole in the ceiling formed, water gushing down from the heavens and roof crumbles laid scattered on the floor of his apartment. “Oh shit,” Teo hissed, in complete and utter awe of what was happening. “That’s really not good, is it?

Man, was this real? Or was he just that damn high?







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Loverboy



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Graham Byrne



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Graham was chugging the alcohol.

It wasn’t that he was an alcoholic, it’s just that… well. See, people liking him kind of depended on him being a happy idiot 97% of the time. And Graham just… could not keep that kind of brainlessness up in the face of fecking JOSH. So what did he do instead?

Drank. Drank until the thoughts had exited his brain very safely.

Oh no…What a shame. Joshy-poo had to escort someone to the bathroom like a toddler. Oh no. What a travesty. How horrible. Boo…

A glance at Abigail, who was staring at him.

“... I’m not in the habit of giving minors alcohol.” He said simply. He was starting to feel a bit of flush come to his cheeks. Warmth. A mild buzz starting - fuck drinking since he was 13 and therefore developing a high tolerance. This shite wasn’t worth it.

He paused, tilting his head and assessing the situation. They were alone. In a church. With a hurricane outside. And he wasn’t sure about her, but he was really trying to not have Bible study. Eyes narrowed. “You’re not part of the church, yeah?”

Somehow, even with suspicion in his gaze, he seemed to remain completely brainless. With her affirmation that she wasn’t part of the church, he looked side to side. Then capped the vodka and slowly rolled the bottle towards her.

“Whaaaat. Oh noooo. I lost the vodka. Where ever did it gooo?” He said as dryly as he could possibly manage before laying down on the floor, hands across his chest and staring at the ceiling. “Wow, I sure hope Abigail doesn’t pick it up and drink it underage. How terrible would that be.”

He deserved an Emmy for this amazing performance. The things he did to make people happy.

And then he closed his eyes. The less he saw, the better… The less it would weigh on his conscience, at the very least.

Silence.

He hated silence.

A star has a life cycle, one called a red giant.

He had to say something to break the silence of Abi drinking before the thoughts started to sink in. Something stupid. Something meaningless. Something that doesn't involve deep philosophical conversations... Oh fuck he was waiting for too long. Quick! Say something!

“Do you believe in God?”

Fuck.






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Max




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Max gave a weak smile and a shy
“Thanks”
as Josh offered to walk with him to the bathroom.
Truth be told, Max had been hoping to go alone. A trip to the bathroom could’ve afforded him a little privacy to have a 3-minute nervous breakdown and try to talk himself out of going back in for the dreaded Bible Study.

Joshua coming with him meant he just had to keep bottling up the anxiety attack. Max had learned many years ago that people could usually overhear him crying and hyperventilating. He didn't want to put Josh in the position of having to comfort him, and he really didn’t want Joshua to know how close he was to losing it over this whole Bible Study thing. He knew this meant a lot to Joshua, Mary, and their family. He couldn’t ruin it for them by making it clear that he was getting crushed under the pressure of trying to fit in within the one environment where he would never be totally welcome.

Don’t be weird, Max pleaded with himself, walking into the bathroom as Josh held the door for him.
Don’t be weird.
Just don't. Be. Weird.

That shouldn’t be too hard, right? They were only going to be in here a minute.
Looking around, though, he immediately noticed problems.

Whoever designed this Kingdom Hall bathroom was a goddamn sadist.
What kind of sick bastard only puts in 2 urinals directly next to each other, then leaves the 1 stall taped shut and out-of-order?!?

While Max was awkwardly standing there contemplating this dilemma, Josh walked past him to take one of the two available facilities, effectively giving Max 2 terrible options:
1- just go back to the lounge and hold it in for the rest of Bible Study.
2- break the cardinal rule of men’s restrooms: never go side-by-side.


Option 1 was out of the question. Coming all this way only to decide he didn’t need to go anyway, like a stubborn toddler, would be way too embarrassing for him. Max was lucky as it was to not have been sent off like Mary. He couldn’t start acting like a child now.
And besides, his nervous bladder wasn’t going to wait much longer for him to make this dumb decision.

Max, shivering as he mentally cast aside his last shred of dignity, hurriedly walked up beside Josh for the most nerve-wracking thirty seconds of his life.
Don’t make eye contact.
Don’t look up.
Don’t look to the left.
NO NO DON’T LOOK AT JOSH’S–
Just… just keep looking down.

Max, cursing himself for having such inconvenient needs, finished up as quickly as possible and almost ran off to the sink to wash his hands and forget that ordeal ever happened.
Drying his hands off with a paper towel, he turned to leave and almost knocked right into Josh, both boys reaching for the doorknob at the same time and accidentally ending up holding hands…
“Ah!!”
Max jumped back.
“I'm so sorry!!”
He couldn't believe he just did that.

“I guess I always find a way to make it weird.”
He laughed so as not to cry, forced at first, but something genuine faded into it. His icy blue eyes softened, glancing up at Josh’s face for the first time since they’d left the lounge.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for being kind of weird back there in the lounge...”
Max’s signing was slower than usual, carefully articulated so that Josh would have an easier time understanding him. The language barrier between him and nearly everyone else he knew made it hard to chat and make friends the way the rest of his peers did. Maybe that was part of why he'd grown into such a panic-stricken nerd, scared to death of his own 16-year-old male tendencies...

“If it wasn’t for Mary and Abby, and, you know, the hurricane… I’d never have done something like this. You see, my family’s actually…”
Suddenly Max couldn’t finish his sentence. He wanted to tell Josh everything now, everything he’d been worrying about this whole time, but he couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t make it weirder than he already had.

He really just desperately wanted Josh to like him.

“I just, uh..."
Max paused, taking a deep breath and trying to come up with something to ease the painful awkwardness of this encounter.
“I like your pants. They... have a nice fit. You have nice legs...”


NICE LEGS???
...why the fuck did he say that???

Max felt paralyzed.
There was no going back now.







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joshua jones



  • .



Joshua’s brain was on autopilot, going ahead with his normal bathroom business. Have a wee, zip up, and wash his hands. Once finished, he went to take hold of the door handle to be met with another hand. Joshua’s eyes trailed up the arm that belonged to the hand, catching Max’s shocked expression. The boy flung his hand from Joshua’s as if touching fire for the first time. And then he began to apologise…? For what? They had only touched hands; nothing odd about that at all. “No, it’s okay” he attempted to reassure the boy. And then he mentioned about being weird? Once again, Joshua attempted to reassure the boy, signing and telling him, “No, you don’t.

Finally, it seemed as if the anxious nerves clustering within Max’s body were coming to a gradual standstill. For the first time since the lounge, Max finally paused and gazed up at his face. Eye to eye contact. While there was something so comforting about having this direct contact, it also made Joshua want to hide his face for the rest of his life. And then Max began to apologise for what happened in the lounge. Once again, Joshua reassured him, throwing him a “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologise”. But then something caught his attention; Max was talking about Mary. A wave of guilt ran through his body. He felt like he needed to give Max some sort of explanation of what happened.

About Mary…” he paused for a moment, trying to gather the words to accurately explain his situation. To be honest, it was a rather fickle, complicated one. He didn’t want to offend anyone, but the honest truth was going to bring some sort of hurt to something, right? “Just…” he sighed; well, would Jehovah lie? Of course not. “My brother wanted me to look after Mary. He was a bit unsure of that… man coming into the Kingdom Hall. And Mary… she’s young. And… you know. It’s not every day a shirtless, long-haired Irish man walks through these doors” he finished off was an awkward chuckle; it was almost crazy to have had a person like Graham just walk in and make himself at home and so confidently too.

And then the conversation was brought to… his legs?

At the mention of his pants, the first thing that ran through Joshua’s head was oh no, what’s wrong with them? His head quickly ducked down to examine the pants he was currently wearing; sure enough, they were still damp. “Shoot,” he muttered to himself before looking back up at Max. “We uh… we got caught in the rain. My parents got mad that they got so wet cause they look too tight when they’re wet. Dad kept going on about how when Armageddon comes, is this how you want Jehovah to see you? Looking like-” He paused, holding his tongue. His father had said to him looking like a homosexual. The aggression as his father had said those words. As if homosexuals were tainted or would corrupt someone on sight. While it had been the teaching of his parents and the Kingdom Hall that he had been raised in his whole life, Joshua thought… well, he thought it was crap. Jehovah loved everyone, right? So, at the end of the day, did He not love the homosexuals too? “Uhh… Looking like those ‘emo kids’...” He continued on; the third lie of the night.

Right. He had made things weird, didn’t he?

I’m just… going to try and dry off my pants some more.” Joshua finally spat out. I mean, not awkward at all, right? “Feel free to head on out there if you want. The hand dryer gets a bit loud, so I don’t think I’ll be able to sign and talk over the dryer

Not awkward at all.








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Max




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It felt as though time had crashed to a halt.

Whatever Josh said or did next felt like life or death to Max.

Josh had every right to punch Max in the ribs for the stupid, unsolicited comment he just made about Josh’s legs. At least, that was what Max thought.

But he didn’t.

Josh didn’t even seem to acknowledge the uncharacteristically licentious comment from the younger teen, instead becoming fixated on the fact that Max had mentioned his pants, apologizing for their appearance despite the fact that Max had, if anything, been weirdly admiring them.
At first, Max felt overwhelmingly guilty for having trodden on something that was clearly a source of insecurity for Josh.
“I'm sorry. I just meant I thought they looked... cool...”
Josh, though, continued on to explain that his father had used some particularly harsh language about Armageddon and how Josh’s pants would be an insult to God on doomsday.

See, Max’s family’s religion didn’t have nearly as much of a focus on the apocalypse. It was a terrifying sort of culture shock to realize how much fear and shame were staples of the faiths of others.
Max had an easy enough time being ashamed and afraid all by himself; he didn’t need a church to instill that in him.
Hey, maybe he’d get along with this group better than he thought.
But the way Josh fingerspelled ‘emo kids’ made it seem like some sort of euphemism…

Max stood awkwardly by the door and watched while Josh made futile attempts to dry his pants under the hand dryer, which if anything was probably going to shrink them tighter. The awkward conversation they’d been having had completely died, leaving the boys just staring at each other from opposite ends of the bathroom, feeling the painful tension hanging in the air.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how Josh had let him get away with that dumb comment about his legs. Did… did Josh not mind? He didn’t think that was weird or creepy of Max to just say something like that about another boy, apropos of nothing… he didn’t think it made Max a little bit…

Max was fully aware of how churches like these felt about gay people.
In a country fighting for marriage equality, a right only recently won in the state of Washington, the voices of those who thought love was a vile sin had become so loud that it seemed like even deaf Max could hear them. Though his parents tried to shelter him from it, that rhetoric had seeped its way into his brain through school, the internet, strangers with picket signs...

That was why he never told anyone.
Not his parents, not his friends, though he should have known that all those people would have accepted him unconditionally.
He always felt like there was something fundamentally, irreparably wrong with him, and that revealing that would inevitably cause everyone he knew and loved to turn their backs on him.
His therapist had, hadn't she? At least, that was how he was interpreting that situation. He'd shared too much and she just couldn't bear to work with a client so unbearably disgusting. That was why his case had been deferred, and he wouldn't consider any other possibility.

Max never gave anyone the chance to let him know that he wasn’t alone in the things he was feeling.

He’d just have to try harder next time to keep his thoughts about Josh’s legs to himself. He was lucky that Josh didn’t instantly sus him out. He was lucky to still be standing here in this god-forsaken bathroom watching Josh fight a losing battle against his pants.
He was lucky to be here at all.






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abigail hargreaves



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Max mentioned needing to use the restroom, he seemed somewhat flustered, but Josh volunteered to guide him to them without hesitation. This gave Abigail a sense of relief as she both didn't need to worry about Max because he was in good hands, and she could also get some of the alcohol that the giant ginger was downing. Her stare was met with gleaming green eyes from behind a bottle. “... I’m not in the habit of giving minors alcohol.” As he spoke there was a slight slur threatening to ram it's ugly head into the conversation, this was awful. Abigail began to interject about technically not being a minor, but then again, she wasn't legally allowed to drink, so technically she was one in that sense.

Before she could get anything out, Graham asked her if she was part of the church, which of course she wasn't. Her head shook from left to right in almost a panic, just hoping and maybe even praying that she could get at least one sip of the clear liquid. The man seemed happy with her answer, enough to "accidentally" drop the bottle that then "rolled" over in front of her feet. A grin spread across her face as she listens to Graham give a somewhat awkward, but a genuinely funny commentary on how he hoped that Abigail wouldn't get the bottle. The lid was twisted off and the bottle kissed her lips, it burned, but it would all be worth it in the end. While taking a second sip, she looks over and sees that the man had closed his eyes, whatever made him more comfortable in this situation was fine with her, then a third sip, and a quick fourth escaped the bottle. It burned, really bad, but not as bad as this situation of being stuck at bible study would.

After recapping the bottle, she hands it back to him as quickly as she got it, thankfully nobody had seen her take her quick shots, which was surprising with the amount of people that were in the building. "I'm sorry sir, but I think you dropped this." The bottle was stuck into the arms of the man with no hesitation as she didn't want to be caught with it in her possession. There was no time for any awkward silence because right after her statement, Graham spoke up in a quick and chaotic manner,

"Do you believe in God?"

There was a slight panic feeling that slipped through Abigail's body, one that would've made her run away had she not been starting to feel the affects of the alcohol. She stood there for a moment, taken back by the question and how it was asked in such a nonchalant way, and then she began to scatter her brain for an answer. No way in Hell was she going to sit here and spew her life story to this stranger, right? Just because she was in a church didn't mean that this was a confessional, did Jehovah's Witness even do that? Or was it just Catholics?

"Well," Abigail trailed off, still thinking of how to answer the question she was just asked, "I'm honestly not sure, to be honest. I would like to think there is a higher power, but life has fucked me over quite a bit that if there is a God, he's a sick person." A shrug finds it's way down to her shoulders, her once filtered conversation now completely gone. Enough alcohol had entered her system that she was feeling good, not anything close to how she was the last time she drank, which was at a friend's party that she got absolutely trashed at. Her head turned upwards to look Graham in the eyes to ask him the same question, was he here because he believed a God was the only way to survive this storm, or was he just a stranger seeking shelter? Her voice takes a serious tone as she begins to speak,

"Now it's your turn to answer the same thing."






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