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Realistic or Modern Cities Never Sleep

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Loverboy



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Graham Byrne



  • .




Well. A lifetime of looking without leaping has officially come to bite him in the ass.

“Do you believe in God?” What type of philosophical bullshit is that. Did that actually come out of his mouth? He didn’t know that was even a thought that he was thinking. Could he even think that? Like. He thought that it wasn’t even possible for him to vocalize thoughts like that.

Weird. Well, he’d officially stepped his foot at it. He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach and turned his head to listen attentively.

Yeah. Life fucked most people over like that… Life was a terribly terrible thi-

Did you know that blackholes come from the death of stars?

She was asking him now. Asking him about his beliefs. And what was there to say? He’d had Catholicism beaten into his spine. So he was pretty sure he believed in God and Heaven and Hell and all that junk.

He couldn’t… really explain that to a minor now could he? She was… better. Right? She was the youth. She didn’t need a 25 year old man dumping all of his childhood trauma onto her.

“Yeah, I believe in God... I also believe in mole people. And alien abductions.” He said with a grin as he drank his pilfered vodka. Flippant and uncaring - though perhaps not exactly towards her vulnerability, just towards himself. “All of that junk at once.”

A small snort at his own joke as he took another drink. “I’m sorry to hear that life fucked ya up though.” He sounded almost sincere. It was a very different tone that he used - the flippant dismissiveness giving way to a gentle caringness.

“If you’d like to talk about it… I mean. I’m here to listen, love.” He said gently. Caring. The throwing a pet name, not even him truly flirting like before. Just a bit of friendliness. He even sat up and crossed his legs. Cradled the bottle in his lap as he continued to drink intermittently. His accent slowly became stronger with the alcohol coursing through his veins.

“Nothing if you don’t want though. There are plenty other conversation topics that we can get through that don’t require trauma bonding…” A pause. Allow her to talk, to consider. Let her make a decision.






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joshua jones



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The sound of the hair dryer humming filled the air, stopping at intermissions as the timer finished ticking down. Within those brief moments, where Josh would attempt to calmly and cooly (and rather fail at it) to alert the sensor of the machine was silence. Thick, awkward silence. Josh wasn’t sure what to say if he was being completely honest. After all, it was his first time meeting Max. Had it been Mary in his position, she probably would’ve talked the boy’s head off. But it wasn’t Mary, the Jones’ little ball of sunshine that bounced off the walls whenever she entered the room. This was Josh. Plain arrowroot biscuit Josh. There was nothing special about him. Nothing at all.

As the machine once again shut off thanks to its timer, Josh could hear another bell ringing in the distance. They must’ve been ringing the bell once more to alert people that the Bible Study was starting. Great. The complete and utter truth was that he needed another Bible Study like he needed a nail through his skull. His brothers and sisters hung onto his parents' every words, milking it in. Joshua, however, feared that some of the teachings they spoke were… hurtful? That they didn’t show the love of Jehovah at all. It almost felt like they were sitting around in a circle, having a gossip about someone from work that not that many people liked. Something Joshua was not into.

“Oh…” he paused, listening carefully once again to ensure that he wasn’t just hearing things. Yep, there it was. That dang bell. He turned to Max, ensuring that he had the boys attention before communicating with him once again. “The bell has gone off again. That means Bible Study has started” He then pointed towards the door in rather… drained manner. As soon as he left that bathroom, he was going to have to pretend that he wanted to be here. Pretend that there was nothing better than spending his time sitting around a circle and complaining about the gays or people having abortions. The conversations always seem to lead to it, after all, regardless of the scripture topic given for the night.

Joshua stepped forward, taking hold of the door and opening it for the pair of them; first Max, and then himself. His pants were far from completely dry, but it was a risk he would have to take, I suppose. As they ventured back into the foyer, Joshua made a note of the lack of people in the main area. Obviously, they had all gone into the back rooms for the Bible Study session, meaning they would be late getting in. Great. Another reason for his father to get angry at him. Late, lying, and wet pants; Joshua was just breaking all the rules today. It was a one-way ticket to eternal damnation, I suppose.

As they approached Abby and Graham, Joshua released a shaky exhale. Okay, he thought to himself. You’ve got this. Just pretend they’re normal people. Yeah… normal people. But as he stood before them, his brain began to freak out because they were not normal people. Graham was sitting on the floor and sucking onto the bottle of vodka like a child suckling their milk. And Abby was just… well, she was there, but she was making it very hard for Josh to collect his thoughts. Why? Well, he wasn’t sure. It seemed that her just being there made his mind swirl with anxiety and his gut fill with… was it dread? Was that what the feeling was?

“Uh… hey” he said as an announcement for his and Max’s return to the group. “So… the Bible Study has started if you guys wanted to go in…?”







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Jodie




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Green Day



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When Rat tried to snake his way into her lap, Jodie instantly swatted her hand into the back of his ribcage as though he were simply an annoying mosquito trying to suck the blood out of her.
“No way in hell, Ratso.”

Rat reminded Jodie of Gollum from The Lord of the Rings. Some sad, deranged little monster that must have once been a sentient creature long, long ago, before some terrible curse of pitiable repulsiveness was placed upon him.

She felt sorry for him, she was entertained by him, she found him disgusting, she found him strangely adorable… he was a multifaceted little goblin. This storm quarantine was going to be way more fun with him here.

“What… What kind of parrot is the little gentleman?” Asked Auguste the Frenchman of the giant red monster currently gnawing on one of Ren’s books. He clearly wanted to change the topic away from Rat being Rat, something which Jodie was happy to oblige.
“Scarlet Macaw. He was my dad’s technically, so I don’t know where exactly he– HEY! PRESTON! DROP THE CONTRABAND.”


Preston dropped the book on the ground, muttering some garbled obscenities Jodie confiscated it from him before he could shred the pages to ribbons, deciding to hold onto it for the rest of the night. From the looks of it, it was one of Ren’s hairdressing manuals… something that Ren wouldn’t want to get ruined. Jodie gave Ren her most sincere look of apology for the close-call of property damage.

The fatigued young salesgirl had learned many years ago that any paper or cardboard she tried to keep in her apartment would eventually get nibbled to decimation by the bird. Maybe he thought he was making a nest somewhere, or just enjoyed causing conflict.

Still, Preston was probably the only good thing her family ever gave her.

“So how long would you say we gotta stick it out here?”
Jodie asked no one in particular, though her eyes lingered on Auguste, possibly because he was the closest and the sanest.
“Who wants to bet that when we step out, Joplin will have gone full apocalypse mode? Bet you anything this city won’t last an hour.”








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Max




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Something about the walk back to the lounge for Bible Study had the same overhanging dread as the walk to an execution chamber.
That was totally over-the-top, though, right? Max was just being his usual paranoid, panicky self.
Nothing would go wrong if he didn’t do anything stupid.

Unfortunately, just a few minutes ago, he blurted out that Josh had nice legs (and even if that was true, it was totally inappropriate and Max almost wished Josh would hate him for it.)
That comment was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. Just like how Josh and his pants were going to be in Max’s most inconvenient daydreams for at least the next month.

When he and Josh got back to the others, Max stayed close to Josh, giving a shy wave to Abby before he noticed with abject horror that a great deal more of the giant shirtless redhead’s vodka bottle had been emptied.
He stared up at it, as dumbstruck as if he’d never seen alcohol before. It wasn’t like Max was too innocent to know about alcohol or anything– he was 16, not 5. But drinking that much in a church!? That seemed… there had to be a word for it. Sinful? Was he even allowed to say that?

Max stood in the doorway, behind Josh, unable to tear his eyes away from the scandal. He had turned a bit pale, his hands awkwardly gripping his elbows, ruining any semblance of normal calm posture.
He couldn’t hold his silence on it any longer, but he was absolutely terrified of confronting Graham with his questions. Max was a willowy lad of only 5’7; Graham could probably break all his bones and twist him into a pretzel and throw him 10 feet in the air.

Instead, he went to his close friend Abby, now the only person in the room he knew well. He gingerly tapped her shoulder and tried not to draw attention to himself, but he couldn’t help his eyes darting back and forth between Graham and the bottle.
“Abby, can we talk?”
Max signed tentatively, small and close to his chest, equivalent to a whisper.
“First of all, if Josh says anything weird about me later, I’m sorry. Things got a little crazy back there, but… this isn’t about him. It’s about the other guy, and don’t tell him I said this, but what’s with the…”

He accidentally leaned close enough to smell the sharp scent of liquor on her breath.
No way…
How much did she have in the few minutes he was gone?
“Are you okay?”
Max looked genuinely worried. His friend seemed fine, but drinking in a church had to be some kind of serious red flag. And from what Max knew of Abby’s history, the thought of her being so susceptible to substance use scared him. He didn't say to her explicitly that he knew she'd been taking sips from Graham's drink, not wanting to seem confrontational. He didn't want to start an argument with her, not now, when he needed a friend the most...

“Give me a sign if you're not okay. I won't tell anyone, we'll just... I'll find somewhere for us to go. I promise.”


Max straightened up and tried to act normal, like he hadn’t just been frantically signing to his friend. He didn’t even fully realize how odd that must have looked.







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abigail hargreaves






”Yeah, I believe in God... I also believe in mole people. And alien abductions.” A giggle left her mouth as he made the statement about mole people, she never really thought about the possibility of them, but maybe there was a chance they do exist. Mentally shrugging off that thought, her focus returned back to Graham as he spoke again, mentioning that she could talk to him about what fucked her up in life. The addition of calling her love sent chills down her spine, it’s been so long since someone other than her parents called her a pet name, so it was a strange feeling for her. Abigail grinned at the man, then shook her head, ”No, no, I’m not here to spill all my woes to someone I just met, but thank you.”

As he sat the bottle down again, she looked at it and back up at Graham, giving a look to say that she would like some more. With a quick look away from the man, she takes two more sips and sets it back down. The perfect level of tipsy had been reached, and soon she would have absolutely no problem with getting through the bible study that awaited them. ”So, about those mole people.” Abigail laughed, almost at herself for even starting such an outrageous conversation, but it was much better than the pre-mature trauma bonding, that would be saved for a later time after a little too much alcohol.

Joshua and Max were still assumed to be in the restroom when the bell rang once again, the people in the cafe were getting far and few between, practically leaving Graham and Abigail alone with no clue what was going on. She looked at the man sitting on the floor and was considering joining him down there when the two boys made their way back to them. As they got closer Josh spoke up and started signing for Max, ”Bible study has started if you guys want to go in.” Abigail nodded her head in agreement and looked towards Graham and then Max, who had a look on his face that seemed worrisome.

He requested that the two of them have a quick chat, which was no big deal, it shouldn’t take long, right? Her worries were now gone out the window as her booze-fueled confidence began to sky rocket. Max started to sign something about him and Josh, that things “got a little crazy” in the bathroom. Her eyes widened as she looked back towards Josh and then back at Max who continued by signing that his worries weren’t about that, but about Graham.

With a slight lean in from the boy and a small exhale from Abby, there was no chance of her hiding that she had been drinking. She immediately covers her mouth and tries to act very nonchalant about the situation as Max asked about her being alright. ”I’m totally fine,” She signed to him, Everything is great.” Her hands moving in a way that was probably not the most secretive, but what difference did it make? She gave him a quick pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile, things really were just fine, but if they did go south, his offer was still in the back of her mind.

Abigail steps back from the conversation with Max and turns her attention to the rest of the group, ”We should go and sit down before we get in trouble.” Another intoxicated giggle left her mouth as she signed along with her words. Her head looks down towards Graham who was really the only one she wasn’t sure would be joining them, he was older than her and could make his own decisions, but she wanted to make sure he was tagging along with the three of them.






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RODEO-RAT












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Given a wrong glimpse through ice only fanned embers of mischief into flame.

“Bigsie Boo~” Repeated back with an affectionate chirrup, the blonde confirmed the favoured nickname and returned leviathan’s stare with a contorted smile. Bent to the shape of mayhem, a nocked arrow filled with intent. No doubt a poor wager to poke at bears or offer arms to a pack of wolves, but when riddled with impulsive barbs that sow themselves to marrow-depths, it was an atavistic reflex built into Rat.

“But Bigsie,” Rat would gasp, pale hand desperately clawing air to try and land another rebellious leg-touch, “all our fond memories? How close we is!”

Why didn’t Auguste miss him!

Unreasonable!

“Oh!” He’d wail, the back of his hand pressed to forehead as he lazed over Jodie’s lap. A vision of Renaissance art, swooned damsel. “Hold me, JoJo. I be upsetted.”

But Jodie had standards.

Standards that wouldn’t allow Rat to lay about like a leech.

A swat had the blonde jolting with surprise, “ay ay! Dainty, I am!” —grumbling and recoiling back to his section of the couch to enact some fraction of civility. Or the closest Rat could manage. Slumped comfortably, inside of his mouth caught in teeth and side-eyeing the red bird currently provoking ire for nibbling at a book. A fellow man of chaos, it seemed.

Preston.

And chaos was Rat’s favourite companion. So often maligned, yet welcomed to his body like sleep.

With the host’s fingers twitching, it took only a moment for her yelling to split air. Like the crack of a firework, a threat of a fire-brand to stamp damnation. Rat’s face lit up, braying for reaction and insistent on winning whatever twisted game he alone played.

“Yada yada yeehaw!” Rat cawed back, “so loud! And for what?!" Fascinating in its fury, how she’d stir and be yanked along by habitual puppet-strings. Marionetting a path of rage, the grin peeled from Rat’s face at her high-speed approach. A beeline for his throat, no doubt.

“Oh f–” Rat snatched a pillow as a shield. “Wait–! Wait, we can talks about this!”

Poised to enact revenge, the blonde only managed to quip a swift, “hehee– gropey” before shaken into pale mousse. Brain matter rendered pulp, bones left battered and weight thrown around like a flag. Only her threat of flea-ridden retribution, let the strays get you, had Rat’s glee faltering a notch. Eyes narrowing in a counter: you wouldn’t dare.

“Hurts me, she would,” sniffled the blonde as he scattered from the room on hasty feet. “Poor sweet Ratalie! I cook! I clean! Nobody does anythinks in this house!”

He didn’t even live here.

Gracing the guests with temporary peace, Rat’s elongated absence bled thick with suspicion. Affirmed with his return and spontaneous wardrobe change; wrapped in a fluffy bath-robe and a towel piled on his head, the epitome of comfort. Flitting past like a soft dove towards the kitchen while he listened into Jodie’s conversation.

How long would you say we gotta stick it out here?

“Hopefully forevsies, my besties.” No doubt Joplin’s inhabitants would crumble to opportunity, whip through streets and stores like the hurricane itself. Rat only assumed they’d take no interest in flowers. Hopefully. He was trying not to think too much about it.

Hand travelling through cabinets in search for something laden with diabetes, his lip upturned in disgust locating a can of–

“Fuckin’ beans.” As much as Rat appreciated the colour green, consuming vegetables was not of interest. “Say, if we run outta food, who we eatin first?” The blonde popped into view again, eyes quick as liquid flickering between Preston and Auguste. “Chickadee or Bigfoot? I be votin’ Boo-Bear, got more meatsies on ‘im.”







Descended from salt, a god with sea-rot skin.

This is poor magic for resurrection.

#luv u bigsie #hold me #i like ya fit g #grr beans #cannibalism yay!







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Loverboy



A-Wall








Graham Byrne



  • .




And for one split second, the acting fell away. The self-aggrandizing. The cocky arrogance. Green eyes burning bright with alcohol. There was intelligence there. And there was understanding, genuine understanding and empathy.

“Yeah, I get it, lass. No worries.” A genuinely bright smile. An equally bright bark of laughter as she mentioned the mole people. The relief of some tension in his smile that perhaps even he didn’t realize was there. “I don’t feckin’ know about mole people. I made that shite up.”

A completely different beast than the heat of flirtation and the smooth confidence of how he presented himself. He even nudged her playfully as he swayed side to side from where he was seated. Not particularly drunkenly, but more looser in his movements from the careful calculation of before.

Another bell rang, and for the first time, Graham frowned. A quiet mutter under his breath “I really don’t want to do Bible study.”

The first admission of distaste from the seemingly perpetually laidback redhead.

Just like that, it was gone as the two boys entered the room again. The sharp arrogant playboy was back. And Graham did a long pull of the vodka - one much longer than the other sips he’d been drinking. Perhaps for show, perhaps not.

A stupid, placant smile. “Howdy.”

And another drink of vodka.

“Did the bathroom go well? Have fun getting wet together?” He said breezily. Though there was enough humor in his voice hopefully that everybody understood that he was just bantering. Hopefully. He did enjoy quite a bit of banter, but perhaps everyone was a bit too high-strung for that kind of joking around. Oh well, he was starting to feel a bit tipsy so at least he had a good excuse for his looser tongue. “Me and Abi were having a great time getting to know each other.”

No. No he did not realize how flirtatious that sounded, but sometimes having the reputation of being the absolute worst had its benefits. A self-fulfilling prophecy in its own way.

And besides, he’d really done nothing wrong except allow her to sneak sips of his vodka. His conscience was clear.

Pointedly, he tried to ignore Abi and Max having their silent conversation over there while he was left with Josh who was wondering if they were going to go to Bible Study.

“Mmmmm if the party’s out here, I vote to keep the party out here.” He said with a shrug and another vacant grin, not even bothering to try to attempt to stand. He hoped that he was torturing this young man with his flippancy. Absolutely burrowing his way into this man’s brain until all that was left was a question of his own morality and happiness.

And so, the two returned to the small group that they seemed to have formed.

And alas, it seemed that he was outvoted on whether or not they should go in. And Abi, his new best friend 5ever, was implying that she wanted his presence at what could only be one of the most miserable experiences of his adult life.

How could he possibly refuse, though?

“I suppose we should. Only for you though.” He said, standing with a surprising amount of steadiness despite the alcohol currently passing through his system. He even gave a languid stretch. “After you, lass.”






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MOOD: Worried

OUTFIT:  Slush Slash Puppie

LOCATION: Chalamet building
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Charlie doedeer doedeer


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Dustin Thackery
All the best people have gone mad
"Whoa dude, the fuck happened to you?" Dustin blurted out as Drew came bounding and splashing over to them, all bloodied up with fresh scrapes, bruises on his face. Drew of course was more interested in getting his sister out of there than fielding any useless questions from the younger boy. Dustin himself hadn't taken the time yet to think about just where Charlie's family had wandered off to? Where were her parents? Why was she alone on the roof during an emergency? His focus had been on getting Charlie out of the rain, and all questions could wait.

But here was her family coming to claim her, perhaps just a bit too late. Dustin could only stand by and watch as Charlie bitterly dismissed her brother, stammering for a moment when she suddenly turned to him and asked curtly if they could move along. "Y-yeah," The boy nodded, then swiftly turned to jog up the staircase as Drew called after them. "We're just gonna be down this way, man. She'll be okay," Dustin offered gently in an attempt to reassure the other boy, gesturing a few doors down before leading Charlie in that direction.

Inside the darkened apartment, Chrissy immediately scampered over to greet the two teens at the door. "Charlie!" She squeaked, grinning happily at her new friend, the sight of the older girl a momentary reprieve from her worry over her missing mother. Dustin heaved a silent sigh, as he'd been hoping she might have made it home by the time he was gone, even though he was just outside and certainly hadn't run into her out there. "Yeah, look who I found," he chuckled at his little sister's enthusiasm. Without a thought he whipped his uncomfortably drenched shirt off, unable to stand the feeling of the cold, wet fabric against his skin a second longer. "Shit uh...let me find you something to wear," Dustin ran his fingers through his dripping hair, free hand outstretched to offer Charlie the towel he'd snagged from the linen closet before disappearing down the hall to his bedroom.

"Our mom's not back yet," Chrissy piped up, her dark brown eyes big and distraught. "Were you looking for your mom too?" The little girl asked, curious why the other girl was outside in the storm for Dustin to find. Moments later the boy appeared once again, now in a pair of old basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Clutching yet another tee and a pair of grey, drawstringed sweats, he held the clothing out to Charlie with a friendly smile. "Uh, if you wanna change..." Turning, he gestured down the hall to where she could find the privacy of a bedroom or bathroom.

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MOOD: losing your house to flood damage core

OUTFIT: has never listened to nirvana

LOCATION: Chalamet Building
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Qwertycakes Qwertycakes
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Chimney Swift Chimney Swift
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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


Ashley chuckled, holding the baby tighter to her chest, as if to guard him from the scary evil crab guy who was wielding the book like a weapon. She tilted her head, listening as Oli began a spiel about the book. “Ohhhh. Holy shit fifty fucking seven?” Certain she mishead, the young girl looked to her friend for clarification. "You don't have it memorized by now? Or do you like forget the turtle facts and need a reminder? Why are people even trying to eat baby turtles? Cause they're vulnerable? Or cause they taste really good? I mean I guess the other turtles don't think so but still."

She'd probably never understand Oli's weird turtle shit. But, asking questions was the primary way the two teenagers communicated so she kept going. Her, about turtles and him about social cues or her weird comments. That was their comfortable little talking pattern, one that served them both well through the years. Oli learned some social stuff, and Ash got to make turtle jokes. A total win-win.

However, no questions were necessary as Oli led the way to the closet she could put her stuff in. She simply wordlessly nodded, and trailed after the older boy.

They passed the kitchen where John and Eileen were still in deep conversation, prompting a serious eyeroll from Ashley. God. Couldn't her father keep it in his pants ONCE? It wasn't necessarily personal, in fact Oli was probably one of the better stepsibling options in Joplin. However, it always ended up meaning more responsibility for her when he got a girl. He'd drop Tony onto her for a date, or come home late, or say she had to stay home and watch Tony while he took a particularly lengthy phone call with a lady friend. It was downright aggravating, the fact that if he fucked it up as he usually did, he might not want her to hang with Oli anymore was just an added downside.

This dour idea occupied Ashley's thoughts, the entire small hike to the closet. As Oli finally spoke up, Ash took one good long look at the room and realized she had been sorely mistaken about the purpose the closet would be serving.

Even more shocking was the way Oli didn't seem to notice. The cramped monstrosity of a closet was just brushed off as if it was nothing. A nicer person's heart might've ripped into two at the realization of what destitution their friend must be living in. Hell Ash might've even felt worse if she'd been hearing about this secondhand. But now that it was her problem? The weight of what Oli was going through didn't quite hit her as hard as the fact that she would now have to deal with this cramped living arrangement. “Oh no....I'll take the floor.” She eked out, attempting to sound more calm and decisive than she actually was. “It's your bed anyway. Plus I have a sleeping bag. ” Ash paused, laughing despite herself at Oli's insistence Tony not sleep there. "Oh yeah, no way. There's like a pop up crib we can set up in the living room. And-" Ashley's speech was interrupted by the pinging of her phone, and a grin escaped her lips

"Dustin and Charlie are hanging out at his place. Wanna sneak out? No way in hell they notice we're gone." She offered, her signature evil grin reappearing. It was time to be a gremlin shit with actual teens again, instead of the beleagured daughter in a closet setting up popup cribs like a miserable housewife.
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Oliver




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Todrick Hall



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"Dustin and Charlie are hanging out at his place." As Ashley mused on the goings-on of their mutual friends, Oliver initially seemed uninterested. He didn't see it as a setup to an invitation until Ashley continued on and made it more explicitly clear: "Wanna sneak out? No way in hell they notice we're gone."

That piqued the boy's interest. No one noticing he was gone... that was appealing to Oliver, who was always looking for any reason or opportunity to be as far away from his family as possible. His mother was usually much kinder to him when non-family members were visiting the apartment. He knew, from experience, that she would never dare yell at him or lay a hand on him if she knew others were watching. That didn't make Oliver want to be around her any more, though, so he jumped at the chance to leave home for the afternoon.

"Let's go." He said, determinedly, without more than a moment's hesitation. He closed the beloved turtle book he'd been flipping through, tucking it back under his mattress as if worried that someone would try to steal it from him while he was gone, before yet again taking off ahead of his friend.

Instead of leading Ashley back through the living room to the door, Oliver ducked out of the closet and scurried ahead her to the end of the short hallway where there was a window leading out onto the fire escape.

He could still hear his mother and Ashley's father laughing and chatting away, and his three sisters milling about and whispering amongst themselves, so there was no need to wait for a distraction this time. This was the perfect chance to break out. Looking furtively left and right over his shoulders, just in case someone decided to inconveniently appear behind him, he lifted the latch on the window and pushed it up painstakingly slowly, so it wouldn't squeak. Evidently, he'd done this countless times, enough to have mastered the art of doing this without a single sound. Waving Ashley over silently, like a spy movie protagonist, he climbed out the window and crept up the flimsy metal staircase.

The whole way up the fire escape, Oliver stayed very close to the wall and seemed unable to look back down. He wasn't typically very afraid of heights (at least not nearly as afraid of heights as he was of crabs), but he'd nearly fallen off the fire escape to his death a couple of times and knew to be cautious. Besides, due to the slashing sheets of rain that were still coming down, the steps were dangerously slippery and the whole structure seemed to sway and bend in the wind.

In short time, they came up to an identical window a few flights up, one that Oliver knew would lead straight into Dustin's apartment.
It did not occur to Oliver at any point that breaking into Dustin's place through the window was a little bit weird, to say the least of it, and he had never offered an explanation to Ashley for the seemingly needless stealth operation at any point during this excursion.
Oliver was never quite able to discern when his actions required justification. He'd do the strangest, most counterintuitive things as if they were completely unremarkable, and then in the next moment he would talk himself breathless trying to explain something that needed no explanation.
He must have thought it was necessary.

Once both teens were safely inside the Thackery residence, Oliver politely closed and latched the window behind them so as not to let the rain in. "Dustin will be in here somewhere," He said to the girl still beside him, not seeming to realize that she would obviously recognize Dustin's family's home. Yet again taking the lead, he walked ahead of her, tracing his hand along the wall as he went, wondering if Dustin and Charlie would be there when he turned the corner.






♡coded by uxie♡
 







abigail hargreaves






It wasn't until after she said they should attend the study that Abigail realized she wasn't mentally prepared for such a thing. There would no doubt be shaming of premarital sex and things alike. Her head turns to Max, with a worried look on her face, she had a hunch that he wasn't straight, but never wanted to say anything about it. Her biggest worry at this point would be about him feeling ashamed for being who he was. If God did create us, and being gay was a sin, why would He make someone gay? It was a question she asked herself plenty of times because there was always the whole "God hates gays", but wasn't God a loving entity?

Abby signed to Max, "Are you prepared? Or should we take a minute to gather our thoughts?" Although she was concerned for the boy, she was also concerned for herself, if anyone found out about her past, she would one hundred percent be shamed for the things that happened. All she wanted was to get through this session and never see this place again, a first and last experience. She was never a very religious person, but that didn't stop her from allowing other people their beliefs. All she wanted in life was for everyone to be happy and get along well, sadly, that wasn't something that would happen in this lifetime.

A few moments later after visually requesting Graham to attend with the group, he had stood up surprisingly passing as sober. Alas, the girl wasn't the same, you could tell she was somewhat intoxicated, but at this point she had no shame in it. With enough alcohol in her system, she had a no-fucks-given attitude and would be just raw dogging this sermon. There was a slight hope of going unnoticed while entering the room, but there was no way that would be happening, especially since at this point everybody was already sat down and the preaching had began.

"In all honesty, I'm nervous myself." She spewed out both verbally and physically, her hands fingerspelling the word nervous because she couldn't remember how exactly to sign the word. "How much trouble would we get in if, hypothetically, we didn't attend?" Abigail listened carefully as she could hear the preacher talking about some scripture that must've been relevant to the hurricane going on outside, something about the Rapture, and if that was the case, she knew damn good and well that they would be mentioning all of the sins one could commit.






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Max




filler



filler



filler



filler



filler



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  • home (filler tab)
















































Max watched Abby's words closely, another look of concern crossing his features when she mentioned being nervous about Bible study.

He understood why something like this would make her uncomfortable, just as much as it made him uncomfortable. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all if they sat this one out...
No.
Don't draw more attention to yourself.

Josh and Mary would be hurt if he decided to skip out. He couldn't do that to them. Not to his friend, certainly not to the boy who'd been so considerate of him despite Max's stupid, socially awkward mistakes.

He owed it to Josh to do this, after what he said earlier.

This was his moment to earn his forgiveness for pointing out Josh's nice legs.

"It's fine." He said out loud with a weak thumbs-up, trying his best to be reassuring to both Abby and Graham. "I... I mean, I think I'll go. Just to be respectful and all." His word pronunciation was a little off; he could just feel it. But for Graham's sake especially, he wanted to try to be as accommodating as possible. It was in Max's nature to try to shoulder every burden that he could. He often felt that it would be better to literally break his spine than to inconvenience someone else.

That ideology, coincidentally, was what pushed him to agree to Bible study, even though just thinking about it made his head spin.

Before anyone could tell him otherwise, Max stepped forward and gently pulled the door open to see that the study group had already started. He flinched, embarrassed to be intruding late, but quickly found a section of seats for him, Abby, the shirtless giant, and Josh.

For the first time, Max was almost relieved that Graham was still nude from the waist up and cradling a half-empty bottle of vodka. No one would be staring at Max with him around, that's for sure.

Max, though, was too focused to be ogling the giant redheaded man. He instead kept nervously eying Josh, waiting for cues on how to behave in this Bible study. He leaned forward in his chair to keep Josh and Abby both in his line of sight, as the two of them were currently his only anchor to what was going on in the room. Abby for her bilingual interpretation skills, and Josh being the one who actually knew what this religious service was all about.

But after everything that had happened in the lounge and in the bathroom, Max oddly felt a little braver about this. What could possibly go wrong now, after everything else?









♡coded by uxie♡
 
















Verdis Quo



Daft Punk








Auguste Cortes



  • .




Auguste was a man of patience and careful control. He had to be. He was 6’7 and most likely could crush a skull with his bare hands if asked to. So he remained mild mannered and quiet and generally hands to himself. An extreme pacifist by circumstance

He'd sworn to pacifism some 5-7 years ago, and never before had his morals been so thoroughly tested, like a being sent straight from the divine to test his faith.

Rat kept pawing at him, the disgusting little creature. And every attempt was met with a stinging flick of retribution. Like a bull flicking off flies with its tail.

But the distraction of a lovely bird was keeping him far more entertained than whatever horrid affairs the pale skinned fuckface was attempting. So blue eyes followed red feathers as it jumped around the scene tearing at books in its own showing of free will.

“He’s beautiful.” A mumbled compliment, overtaken by the loud clamor of Rat and Ren’s shenanigans. There was a slow curl up with the aggressive nature of the two clashing. Maybe if I curl up into this couch, nobody will ever find me.

Alas, the spell was snapped almost immediately upon Jodie questioning him about how long they’re gonna stay here. And how horrific the scene will be when they step outside.

“Ehm…” A slight tilt of the head, contemplation as he started curling a stray strand of hair around a finger absentmindedly. “I mean I guess-”

And then Rat crashed into the conversation,

“Hopefully forevsies my besties”

“... oh god no.” Came the mumbled out reply as Rat dug through the kitchen like the little parasite he was. “.. ehm… maybe like… I hear that the actual hurricanes… They only last a day when they-they are the… this type of the intensity, yes?”

A couple of nervous blinks accompanying the stuttered and broken English, the commotion about making it harder for him to concentrate on translating properly. It was his third language, and it was frustrating at the best of times.

"... We... I will be fine if the city goes to shit." He quickly tacked on at the end. Though, the validity of that statement coming from a man who could barely look Jodie in the eyes was questionable at best. He seemed to open his mouth to say something else, but it was quickly followed by a turn of the head at Rat's next statements.

“Say, if we run outta food, who we eatin first”

“Qu’est-ce que c’est? Say that again?” Flat. Emotionless. Staring at Rat now with a mild amount of incredulity and offense. Raised eyebrows. Probably the most emotion outside of anxiousness that he’d shown the entire night.

“... Boo-Bear.” He mumbled to himself as he slowly began to sink back into the couch, the act of showing emotions for one second inevitably exhausting him into a withdrawing phase.

But! There was a small attempt at fighting back as he sank!

“You… You know, yes? That there is… the long standard tradition where I come from where we grill rats… I know this recipe, it is good. I vote for this option.” Soft, and calm. Like he was stating a fact about weather or complimenting someone’s shoes. Always very mild mannered, despite the morbidity of the conversation.

"What about you?" He asked Jodie with a tilt of the head.






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drew vodianov

♫/ballad of big nothing - elliott smith/♫



mood

pretending, a lil xanned/drunk


location

raven's house


oufit



tag

raven Nightmarish Nightmarish , kenzie neverbackdown neverbackdown



“okay–” he scoffed, ”–fine! go.. do whatever.. i guess..”--the last of his discontent towards his sister’s hindrance and accompaniment with the boy was offered in a flattened rasp of a tone, “fucking hell.”--giving one last mutter.

defeated and going back and forth in between aggravation and disappointment in himself. the boy now stood alone in the doorway with no one in sight. he couldn’t stand to look at the dimly lit building any longer. drew shut the door behind him, standing with the water almost up to his knees–just looking at the street before him in silence. he’d let the rain beat down on his face for a moment–his hair a splattered mess over his eyes.

he couldn’t entirely grasp on the root of his distress. so what? charlie’s been going off on her own for awhile now. she was starting high school this year anyway so it wasn’t much of a surprise–but that wasn’t what gamed at his thoughts. his eyebrows stayed furrowed, eyes fixed on the watery street that he was now attempting to walk through. maybe it was a slight pang of jealousy that lined his discomfort–something drew would not conclude to himself. he wasn’t there for her and some other guy just happened to step in?

cool, i don’t care anymore, drew spit into the water. a total lie.

when he’d finally enter his house, drew ignored the grisly sight of his childhood quite literally being swept away before him. he opened his cigarette pack and lit one up–something he’d never do inside on a regular day, but it wasn’t a regular day. and hey, dad wasn’t home to scold him now was he?

the brown haired boy would make an attempt to avert his eyes from all the picture frames and belongings left to fend for themselves. no need to get stuck here any longer than he had to be. he was looking for two things. any dry clothes he could find and all the alcohol they had. once obtained, he took one last look behind him. this was no longer home. just looked like a picture made up in his head. like a dream, barely real. not the way he wanted to remember something so close to him and he would try to keep it that way.

taking a swig of the tall glass bottle, he sloshed his way through the mud and out the gate–towards the car. with a great volley of pent-up anguish that’d coarse through his veins he couldn’t help, but kick the car. “stupid. stupid.” he sputtered, then swung it open–throwing his belongings in the back and closing it right behind him.

everything was a mess. this entire block was a mess. and he was alone.
he was alone.

the boy bit his cheek hard, drawing blood without even realizing it.

i have to go.

hard squints in succession, he gripped the wheel as his body felt the force of alcohol mixing with the chemicals already running through him.

drew was to go pick up raven and go to kenzies. now.

he dreaded the thought of showing up to the affair such a fucking wreck, but there was no way raven’s parents would be okay with seeing him like this even for a minute to tidy himself up. his mind went through what his next actions would be–rather addled and spotty. drew shook his head, then threw his cigarette out the window. ravens. ravens.

when he finally arrived at ravens, he was glad to be out of the muggy undertow his side of joplin was. thankfully, kenzie’s apartment was on a particular street with higher elevation than his own. still though, it was industrial district. what a perfect time for a party huh?

truthfully though, a party was just what drew felt he needed. volume of distraction, something to keep his mind occupied coming from every which angle. yeah, that’s it.

he texted his friend to come outside and as she did, he kept his head down and hoodie pulled over his still dripping wet hair. raven would probably figure it out eventually–the cuts and bruises, but the inebriated boy would still try and leave this conversation stalled for as long as he could.




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charlie vodianova

♫/tailwhip - men i trust/♫



mood

a bit overwhelmed, relieved, pleasantly surprised


location

dustin's apartment / chalamet bldg


oufit

dc93403a52fa4e0c542405061cd4f5ab.jpg


tag

dustin Qwertycakes Qwertycakes , oli Chimney Swift Chimney Swift , ash tamarapasek tamarapasek



the walk up the stairs filled charlie with more pride than guilt. serves him right.. she thought to herself through a hard swallow. this new sense of requital over his actions confused her. had she done the wrong thing? no, i like this much better.--rumination of her trudging through the mud again and up the street to kenzie’s house along with her wasted brother made charlie want to shudder.

the adrenaline from the last fifteen minutes was still pumping anyhow, perhaps when this was all over she’d make time to organize these conflicting thoughts.

“charlie!”--squeaked a familiar voice coming towards her.​

“chrissy!” she gave a tight smile, her eyes lighting up just for the child’s presence.

charlie would be momentarily distracted by chrissy’s buzzing until she turned around meeting a shirtless dustin in front of her–the sight to which she couldn’t help but be a bit startled by. she’d hide it, though she could feel the edges of her face prickle with nerves–gritting her teeth a bit as if the action would stop the feeling. it wasn’t so much of a half-naked boy in front of her, though that didn’t really help–but the overwhelming feeling of informality among the chaotic situation that brought her to be experiencing somewhere she did not expect to be.

but hey, wasn't she trying to branch out and experience new things? welp, this wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but it was all a unique experience nonetheless.

she gladly accepted the towel and scrunched the fabric against her hair, peeling the drenched sweatshirt off of her and wrapping it inside the towel so it’d stop dripping on the hardwood floor.

chrissy’s voice would snap her out of her nervous daze. the topic of a mother..
“uh,” she paused, then with a half-hearted smile, “no, i wasn’t. i’m glad your brother was there though. i was.. a bit lost.” charlie would turn this dejection in her voice and face into contrite optimism, “i’m glad i get to hang out with you though!” she grinned.

it was more important to charlie that chrissy kept happy during a time like this. aside from that, it’d just be much easier if she was kept as spirited as possible. deidre was no where in sight and it didn’t seem like dustin knew when she’d be back, so for now. blissful distraction for little chrissy was the best reassurance to offer.

by the time dustin was back, he was dryer and with a set of new clothes on–something charlie now ached to follow. luckily, he’d give her some of his clothes and gesture her down the hall to change. “thank you so much.” she said with a slight bow of her head and hurried into the first door open–his bedroom. she’d throw the clothes off her with fervor as she slipped into the boys’ slightly bigger fabrics. she tied the drawstring as tight as she could, feeling much better that they did have room. after feeling constricted and wet for the last half hour it would surely put her anxiety at ease.

as she shut the door to dustin’s bedroom, her blue eyes locked onto a poster in the dark–she squinted a little trying to figure out what it was of. however, as she stepped back she’d knock straight into a somebody..

OLI?!

surely shocked by the sight of her two friends tracing the dark hallway walls rather suspiciously, she stumbled a bit, “jesus you guys scared me.” her face then lit up with hilarity, barely containing her happiness that the two were both alive and up to some sort of antic like usual, “where the.. how did you–” the grin on her face was unmistakably elated.






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

© weldherwings.

 
Last edited:












mazzy morrison

♫/all i want is you - rebzyyx/♫



mood

happy


location

foxglove / scarlett's house


oufit

bbba18364f6294a49f1b4998dd5db14f.jpg
23fb41f7baf8de40b8b31d8719b1f76e.jpg
b481e4b1d13f1cb6afdcfdcb9d40a5e9.jpg


tag

scarlett floralmoon floralmoon , raven Nightmarish Nightmarish , dj Qwertycakes Qwertycakes



usually the light through her bedroom window would awaken her if it wasn’t already the lively spirit of her home to do the job. it was already considerably spry in the ferrari-starr household as it was. her unofficial adopted moms were bright with personality–which she absolutely adored–and the brother that came along with her welcoming was great too. although with courtney in the mix the three would definitely be getting into quarrels pretty often. mazzy loved it all so much. she'd never felt close to her own family growing up, but within the mere year and a half of moving in it already felt so natural. and with elena’s cousin scotty just now moving in for college, the house would surely be maintaining it’s character.

after spending the entire night before conferring on skype with scarlett and raven, mazzy would wake up dazed and puzzled by the hawkish sounds of rain pelting at her windowpane. huh?! it’s raining so much..

oh shit what time is it?!

the platinum blonde rubbed her eyes as she checked her phone, seeing the time and her text messages blowing up—kenzie…raven..scarlet..

the messy blonde practically fell off her bed at the exciting reminder that there was to be a big party at kenzie’s tonight. she quickly slipped into the seat of her spinny chair and got to work on her make-up for the night as she sent a texted to scar.

[TO SCARZiE2SMEXxi: hayyy i slept in OMFG im picking u up in liek 10 okey???!]

with precision, her eyeliner and eye shadow would be completed with no issue. a sign for a good night perhaps? she hoped so. it’d been awhile since there was a good party in joplin. most of mazzy’s nights consisted of hanging with raven or scarlett whether it was online or at mazzy’s house. which was still just as fun–however, a proper party was what she’d been craving all summer long. the police were no fun shutting down every single one that had potential. she glanced outside at the ever-pouring rain, maybe they’ll finally leave us alone tonight.

adorning her colorful outfit with accessories and packing her necessities in her invader zim backpack, she left the house after a quick hug to both her adoptive mothers who were getting ready for dinner. mazzy flashed a teasing grin to her peers and hollered at dj from across the hall, assuming he was probably in his room, “see you later deeejayyyy!”--with a skip, she was out the door.

the drive to scarlett’s was never really necessary unless they were off doing something somewhere else. the two practically lived by eachother and she was the first person mazzy had befriended after she left wretched ottawa. scarlett knew how mazzy felt about her, but she’d reiterate it over again about every other week. nothing made mazzy happier than to have found her tight knit group of alternative friends. living in ottawa was hell for a lot of reasons, but being forced to hang around braindead christian girls made the experience even more of something she wouldn’t wish on her worse enemy. these days mazzy seldom thought about it though, as everything in her life looked up the day elena and lindsay took her in.


[TO SCARZiE2SMEXxi: i’m outside yuor houzzz :3!!!]

mazzy sent scar a text and followed up with raven as well,

[TO RAVENBEAR: hai babe i’m getting scar right now, is drew still picking u up? if noooot i can come get u just lmk :0!]

she wondered how that boy was doing anyhow. he was always in some sort of mess being in a relationship with kenzie and what not.

see this is the problem with straight couples sOOoooOoooO much dramaaaaAaaaA–why can’t everyone just be pan and poly? then there would be no issu–

mazzy gasped, cutting off her train of thought, “scarzie!!!!!”





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© weldherwings.

 













.scroll












fuck
— bring me the horizon








mood
3xcit3d!!!


outfit
uwp1046469.png



interactions
Mazzy< 3


tags
doedeer doedeer











scarlett


― "it's forever us against them all"




"DISRESPECT YOUR SURROUNDINGS"


"I'm so fucking excited!"

Scarlett thinks to herself while bouncing around her room, jamming out to A Day to Remember, her parents weren't ones to complain about the music, but every once in a while the moshing in her room became too much for the two to bear. That was when she heard a knock on the door, then without hesitation, it began to open, she stopped mid headbang and slowly lifted her gaze from the ground to the entrance of her room.

It was Sarah.

A wave of relief washed over the girl as she realized that it was only her sister, therefore she wouldn't be getting chewed out about how she's "shaking the whole house". The girls embrace each other as this was the first time in about two weeks since they had been together. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be taking cover at your place with your husband and son?" Scarlett questioned her older sister, hoping that she picked up on the joking tone in her voice. Thankfully, Sarah laughed at her, "I stopped by to check on you and mom, gotta make sure you guys are prepared for the storm when it gets bad."

DING!

The text tone blasts through the speakers that were originally playing music, interrupting the conversation that the two were holding moments before. Scarlett puts the music on pause and picks up the phone to see who had messaged her. It was Mazzy, letting her know that she would be picking her up in about 10 minutes. "I love ya, Sarah, but I gotta finish getting ready for this party!" Scarlett gives her sister a hug before finishing up with her outfit, allowing her sister to see her way out of the room.
[TO MADMAZZZZ< 3] okieee babezzz!! c u sooooon c:

It wasn't too long after sending the message back that Scarlett was finally ready for the party that she would be attending with Mazzy and Ravelyn. She rushed downstairs to say goodbye to her mom, leaving enough time in case the two needed to have some sort of talk about how she needs to stay safe, blah blah, parent stuff. After hearing the lecture once more, another notification comes through her phone, it was Maz once again, this time letting her know she was outside. "I love you, mom, see you later!!" With a hug and a kiss on the cheek, the 16 year old grabs her bag and darts out the door, racing towards Maz's car, trying to dodge the rain. "OMG HI!" She squeals out as she gets into the car and adjusts herself to become more comfortable.







coded by xayah.ღ
 







joshua jones



  • .



“Instead, you wrong and defraud, and your brothers at that! Or do you not know that unrighteous people will not inherit God’s Kingdom? Do not be misled. Those who are sexually immoral, idolaters, adulterers, men who submit to homosexual acts, men who practice homosexuality, thieves, greedy people, drunkards, revilers and extortioners will not inherit God’s Kingdom. And yet that is what some of you were. But you have been washed clean; you have been sanctified; you have been declared righteous in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and with the spirit of our God. All thing…”

His father’s voice began to slowly fade into nothingness as Joshua sat in his chair slightly slouched. The Jones siblings, along with their mother, sitting up straight and in the front row of the Bible Study. Joshua had originally walked in with Abigail, Max and the shirtless giant, and had taken a seat with them. As soon as the door creaked open, all eyes were set on them. As if their presence in the room was downright sinful, especially because they were late. He had sat with them for a few moments before he caught sight of Matthew who was stealthily flagging him down by waving his hand behind his chair. Once he caught the waving hand, Joshua’s eyes gazed up to find his older brother mouthing at him to come and sit with the family. After all, it was the way they always did it. It was Jones routine for the family to sit together and present themselves in such a highly manner. There had never been a service or bible study where he had not sat with his family; but there had never been a service or study where he had walked in late. Nor one when he had friends people he knew outside of the Kingdom Hall attend.

He whispered an apology to the group he had originally sat with before attempting to swiftly and quietly make his way over to the empty seat reserved between Matthew and Mary; just for Joshua. As the Jones family sat so upright and sit, their eyes and mind glued on Mr Jones’ words, Joshua’s mind travelled. His eyes dropped from his father and planted upon his fingers, examining their movements. Nails dug into the sides of his nail bed, pushing them back from the cubicle and carefully picking at the skin. The overwhelming urge to raise a hand to bite the hanging skin off as this feeling in the pit of his stomach harboured. He would’ve gotten away with it too had it not been Matthew to catch his hand seconds after he lifted it and aimed it towards his mouth. “We’ve talked about this” his brother hissed at him, returning Joshua’s hand to his leg “Do you think Jehovah would appreciate you biting your skin like this?”

No, he wouldn’t. But it had never stopped Joshua from gnawing away at his nails and nail bed. Something he had been known to do ever since he was a child. At least he had improved from his early childhood years, where he used to chew right down to the nail beds. Any normal parent would’ve lathered on that stinky polish that stopped people from chewing on them. The Jones family, however, resorted to fear instead (because wearing nail polish of any kind was wrong). They told him that his fingers would fall off if he kept going. That Jehovah wouldn’t take children who chewed their nails; Jehovah was disappointed that His child would harm his body in such a way. They drove all this fear into his mind instead of doing the simplest thing instead; asking Joshua why he chewed his nails. Questioning him what prompted him to feel the need to rip his skin and nails down to the nail bed.

“Now, take your time. Gather a group together, and let’s meditate on 1 Corinthians, shall we? We have a large number of attendees today, so let’s make groups of six?”

Finally.

“Come on,” Matthew said, standing up straight with a spark in his step. “Let’s get your little group.”

“My… little group?” Joshua asked, confused. He turned his head to look over at Abigail, Max and Graham, who were in the direct eye-line of where Matthew was gazing. “O-oh, I mean-”

And he was off.
A straight line towards the three of them.

Joshua scrambled up from his seat, following his older brother in tow and arriving just as Matthew once again was introducing himself to the group. “We met before - I’m Matthew Jones,” the man said to the three of them. “Shall we form a group? We just nee-”

“I’m here!” Mary popped out from behind Joshua, her face full of light and joy. “I’ll join!”

“No, Mary,” Matthew began, looking around at the other groups near them “You should go with… Mrs Hackett over there. She needs another young person to join her group”

Mary’s expression dipped in dismay, looking over at the other group before sticking out her bottom lip and turning to her brothers. “But she’s soooo ol-”

“Mary.” Matthew’s voice was bold, like an owner speaking to their misbehaving dog. It was enough to shake the sillies out of Mary, and it pushed her away from their little group on her way to Mrs Hackett without hesitation. Joshua watched as his sister was ordered to the other group, a small frown etching his face. The frown, however, was wiped away in seconds as he saw his mother approach them. She placed her hand upon Matthew and Joshua’s shoulders as she stood between them.

“You are needing another group member?” Her voice held as much grace, humbleness and angelic nature as her posture and movements. “I’d love to see how my wonderful boys handle a small group together.” She chuckled, rubbing Joshua and Matthew’s back in a small motion before looking before the group once more. “I’m Grace Jones,” She introduced herself to the group “But feel free to call me Umma. Everyone does”







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

© weldherwings.
 






I-SPIT-AT-COPS



  • .









scroll


The blonde cocked an eyebrow to the six wife question.

Ren blinked dumbly in return— had that been rude to ask? —before leaning forward to whisper his correction.

“Seven wives?”

Why did he need all of those!? Greedy.

In a matter of seconds did this stranger leap from one extreme to the next, a canvas painted with idle tones spattered with evocative vivacity. Their insanity was indisputable, Ren had decided, embedding the kernel of a malignant idea, this must be a fever dream. There was no other viable reason that someone of this sawtooth trajectory could exist.

Or survive to adulthood, for that manner.

Ren had to control the amusement in his expression, pursing his lips with an interested and painfully strained, “oh, really?” Akin to a parent encouraging their child’s ugly art, this felt no different. Cloaked in amiability and fighting back snorts to their unleashed and heavily misplaced delight: “Wow.”

Teo shook the box containing Melon, skull empty and smiling bright.

This guy. Ren’s eyes slowly shifted away to communicate with empty space. This guy somehow lived alone.

Ain’t no fucking way.

Absent-minded attention travelled in search for signs of a caregiver, a sibling or parent, even Putin would be a godsend for this train-wreck of an individual. With no baby-sitters available, it appeared Ren had stumbled into this unfortunate obligation. Life had a habit of being unnecessarily cruel.

Drip.

Canting his head to the noise, coal iris chased the turn of Teo’s head to stare at the source. Ceiling. Waiting for the following, drip, drip, to confirm suspicion. No stranger to leaky homes, Ren was more surprised the blonde hadn’t opened his mouth to catch the mystery water. It’d almost seem characteristic for wayward Frosty to drink forbidden asbestos.

With a pot in place, the blonde achieving a simple task felt worthy of Ren’s lazy, short-lived applause. A caveman learning, accomplished the deed of kitchenware retrieval. The bare minimum was a success.

Until it wasn’t.

Mid-clap did a new sound fracture air, crumbling plasterwork and spilling a rush of water. Unlike the light-haired counterpart who’d snapped into action, Ren dared not turn to look, frozen in a terrified half-smile.

Shared in a voice so frail it could almost be mistaken for Melon’s dying breath:

“Did Putin visit?”

Pallid complexion and resisting an itching urge to vomit, he stared at the debris. A replica to the blonde who was quick to become the victim of Ren’s slow, eerie turn. Sallow eyes and sheep-teeth, giving a vision of innocence. A blink, blink, flutter of lashes.

This was bad.

This was very bad.

“Listen,” smiling, nervous; so mild and meek that dared not match any prior talk of punching neighbours. “Wasn’t me.” Clarification was important. “I only broke a window, not the ceiling.” Unwarranted defence and confession arrived, rooted from a sore history of warpath destruction. A blood comet leaving its trail, he’d proven particularly adroit at tearing things apart.

And surprisingly, for once, Ren wasn’t at fault.

Which meant someone else had to be.

A settle to Ren's features, rivalry. En garde, Frosty.

“You know what?” Here we go. “All of this?” He waved languid hands at the mess in a hazy, circular motion, stumbling back a step in its zealous wake. “This is all your fault. Bad harmony in the home.” Nothing good ever came from those scheming and pale-headed, the unfair bane of Ren’s existence.

“Now you’re gonna have to sleep with the maintenance guy to get your stuff fixed.” Arms folded back over chest and huddled in his jacket, Ren viewed it as a completely reasonable thing to say. "That's gonna suck."

Silence held for only a moment.

"Hehe." A malicious little giggle. "Suck."

"Get it? 'Cause– yeah. Okay. Not the time. Anyways!"

It had begun as an inkling, a scintilla of opportunity that itched klepto fingers. The magpie fascination, as it were, ensnared with the quickly-forming idea.

“Tell you what, I’m a really resourceful guy.” Mumbled with Nyquil intoxication, Ren was anything but. “I know a lot of people! So many, maybe everyone. Some who could fix this in a day or two with a tiny cash deposit." He smiled, adding on the most exceptional bonus. "You won't even have to sleep with them!"

It was one of life's simplest treasures:

Lying.

Concerning the derelict ruin caved in before them, original plan of finding asylum had been crumbled by both blonde intrusion and hurricane. It appeared Ren would have to repeat the whole process all over again somewhere else. Or, find legal accommodation.

Legal required money, and to get money… well, that was always the same crux, wasn’t it? The pre-meditated coffin awaiting his return. His nature, he would argue.

Not to mention, babysitters should always get paid for their work.

“Soooo? Whatcha say?” A hand extended, “handshake?”







Ancient and vicious, luscious as dark velvet

it blooms in you, a poppy made of ink.

#spspsps blonde-man #ooga booga #not guilty ur honor #get that BAG







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

© weldherwings.
 






Reuben




filler



filler



filler



filler



filler



filler






  • home (filler tab)


































Soundgarden



Gun








The rain did not stop, even as it approached it’s eighth hour; then ninth, then tenth.

Emergency services were running at full capacity. A month’s rain in less than a day had forced Reuben to forgo his lunch break some hours ago – an unprecedented occurrence which would not be repeated in any other circumstance. Had Reuben joined the union (which he would never; what a monumentally useless waste of his salary) they would certainly be hearing about this.

He begrudgingly trudged between his service vehicle and buildings on the cusp of flooding, hauling sandbags to grateful tenants. He understood why many would be apprehensive of leaving to seek refuge; God knows the looters would take any opportunity they could. For many, that was how they survived. Who was Reuben to get involved in that?

The Waterfront had been evacuated already, for obvious reasons, but the rest of the city was quickly catching up in terms of desperate need for assistance. Reuben would persevere, for now. He knocked on the door of the next building. Almost simultaneously, water lopped over the top of his rain boots, invading the sacred preservation of his socks.

“Fuck!” he cried, raising his leg as if it would reverse the damage. “Fucking great, brilliant -”

His hissing was interrupted as the door opened and a skinny teenager, maybe 13 or 14, stoned judging by the redness of his eyes, emerged from behind it. Water lapped at the doorstep.

“Oh, sorry, kid.” Reuben said, still grimacing. “Sandbag?”

The dishevelled boy looked as unimpressed as Reuben. His eyes fell to the sandbag at the police officer’s feet, then back to Reuben. The stench of stale cannabis and tobacco wafted from inside the house.

“What for?”

Reuben stalled. He felt his patience peaking. He blinked hard twice before opening his mouth again.

“The water,” he replied monotonously, stirring the dank liquid with his foot. “You’re not far off flooding.”

The boy peered around Reuben suspiciously, as if he wasn’t to be believed. Fucking stoners.

“Hey,” the boy spoke slowly, a knowing smile crossing his face, “I recognise you. You sold me a quad up by the mall. That was some good shit! And you’re a cop? That must be from the top shelf of the evidence room or something, am I right?”

The lad held his fist out, expecting it to be reciprocated. Reuben looked the lanky know-it-all dead in the eye, the malevolence suddenly seething through his clenched jaw and pursed lips.

“Absolutely the fuck not. I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about. Take the fucking sandbag.” He spat, kicking it towards him.

Boiling point reached. The colour seeped out of the kid’s face.

“Don’t ever get friendly with me like that again. Next time I see you with so much as a roach I’ll have you in the back of the car for possession.”

The boy nodded silently, retreating back behind into the house. Reuben’s glare lingered a moment. He shook his head, turning back to his vehicle. Fucking idiot kids. They have no fucking idea.





♡coded by uxie♡
 
















Loverboy



A-Wall








Graham Byrne



  • .




Graham swirled the bottle around a couple of times, a pleasantly warm smile upon his face as he drew the ire - disturbing the congregation with his large movements and not so quiet way of sitting down, making sure to have a large drawn out scrape of the foldable chair as he pulled it closer to seat himself in. It was a quiet mercy, drawing that much ire, as he watched Abigail somewhat stumble her way in followed by the smaller lad’s more meeker approach.

Eyes were drawn. Scorn. Fuck you, he didn’t want you to like him anyways. He flashed them a v - a sign for victory. And then a call me sign to one of the mothers for good measure.

A fucking monster, but ever the entertaining one, he blew a kiss in her direction - more aimed towards her bloke than her, but still. The rolled eyes and scoff as she turned around to pointedly pay more attention to the preacher was far more worth it. The general tell of close physical proximity spoke to the children sitting down next to him, as he dropped the boisterous drunken movements into something more composed.

In fact, even the seemingly permanent smile dropped as his eyes focused on the Jones father.

Hatred.

Unadulterated rage burned there.

And perhaps for a second, it actually appeared that he could utilize all that muscle - not just for show.

A lean over to Abi. A quiet whisper, like a schoolboy starting trouble in the middle of an assembly:

“I think the preacher’s fly is down.”

No need to ask exactly why Graham may have been staring in that direction. But he gave a little snicker to himself as he leaned back into his position of sprawled all over his chair with very little actual discipline.

And there he sat for the rest of the sermon. He set the bottle of vodka down next to his foot as he crossed his arms and waited. Somewhere, his brain blanked out and he started thinking about hurley and if the Wexford team was going to beat Dublin this year that would be really nice though their number 5 was going to be really-

Oh shit there were people walking towards him. He straightened up just a little bit. The smile back on his face. Yes! Yes he had been totally paying attention!

Wow he sure knew what was going on right now! Everyone was moving around him! Were they dismissed?

He waved to Mary who seemed to be trying to join their “group.” It was cute of her, but definitely not his kind of thing even if she seemed somewhat infatuated. That is to say, he wasn’t a fecking creep that was going to be talking to a minor like that. Noooo. Nooooooooo.

… They were splitting up into groups?

Was this like a “Hooray it’s over we can be normal people now” kind of group activity thing? That was a fast sermon.

A foggy memory traipsed through his brain “And then we discuss what passages of the bible mean to us and how it relates to our lives.”

It was the saddest of sad days. No, in fact. It was not over.

He gave Matthew a strong handshake. Direct eye contact. Yes. He was sober. He was sober and he was straight. And he was a good Catholic man. A man of the cloth. A man devoted to Christ. This was him.

His head immediately turned to watch a woman introduce herself.

Not saddest of sad days, there was a milf that was joining the group! Hooray!

“Hello, beautiful.” This was Josh’s mother, correct? Well Josh guess you were going to get a new father figure in your life. Were the Jehovah Witnesses down with open marriages? He knew Mormons were and they were like, essentially the same thing, right? “How is your night going?”

A wink to throw it all together.

And then a pause. His brain clearly resetting as people were still bustling around them to actually be doing whatever they were supposed to ne doing.

“Wait. So what are we doing exactly?”






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

© weldherwings.
 





















cooper attenborough









  • .












TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE

The hole in the wall stared at him dreadfully and the clock you normally wouldn’t hear now sounded like gospels filling the room.
Cooper fidgeting his fingers before using the credit card to make a perfectly horizontal line of white powder. Silvana drove him completely insane and after their conversation yesterday he was dreading the moment they would meet again. Which was tonight.
His apartment was a mess and it probably smelled really bad. The empty beer cans were spread around the room and so were all his clothes, he had some vague memory of what happened last night but really couldn't recall how it all got there.

Cooper wouldn’t know what idiot organized a party in the middle of a hurricane but if it wasn’t for Silvana Garth he might had even been excited. They had been texting back and forth a little but there was still enough they had to talk about.
The walk to her house or well, the place she was staying, had seemed endless but her hotel was now in sight. Was it very obvious he had not slept at all tonight? Cooper glimpsed at his reflection in the tinted windows. He didn’t look appropriate at all as he was still wearing his sweatpants and an old grey t-shirt he once found in his roommate’s wardrobe. He even forgot to put on a jacket and the weather sure wasn’t treating him very nicely.

Once he got her text and got buzzed in the hotel, he hold before the door just a few seconds to gather himself together. His wet hair dripping on the now not so grey t-shirt anymore. He couldn’t be angry at her just because she refused to be with him but after everything he tried to do for her it seemed like the appropriate thing to be upset.
’Silvana?’ He knocked on the door, a little annoyed she wasn’t waiting outside for him already.
‘We are late, hurry up, please.’ Cooper knocked again, a little harder this time as he heard the wind rage through the hallway.
















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





© weldherwings.
 







abigail hargreaves






The group made their way into the room that mass was being held, Abby stumbled her way in, walking towards the backrow of chairs that Max had secured for the four of them. It wasn't a surprise when many people turned and stared at them as the door made a loud creek noise, revealing their tardiness to the preaching.

Just as she had began to get comfortable and perfected the look of attentiveness, Graham nudged her and pointed his eyes towards the pastor, "I think the preacher's fly is down." With a quick glance, she could see that it was down, between that and the snickering coming from next to her, she almost couldn't contain her reaction. Her hand flies up to her mouth just as a laugh was about to escape, she quiets it to a giggle and a friendly slap to the giant's leg.

It wasn't long after this that Josh was called up to sit with his family, was it just tradition or did they thing the group was a bad influence of him? Did she laugh too loudly at the fact his father's zipper was undone? These thoughts exited her mind as quick as they entered it, there was no need to worry about such things as she would still be having the time of her life with her friends, new and old.

All of a sudden, the room got loud and people started standing up, the echo of chairs scraping against the floor filled the area. That was when she noticed Josh and part of his family were making their way towards her. Quickly, Abigail stands up and adjusts herself, whispering to Graham, "I'm definitely going to need more of that before we go to this study." Looking down at the bottle and then back up towards the people walking in their direction.

Matthew, Josh's older brother, was leading the group, he introduced himself once more and suggested joining each other for the study. Abby's eyes widened, she couldn't say no, could she? No, because that would be rude, and it would break her promise that she had made to attend the bible study. She plasters a smile on her face and speaks up, "We would love to! Thank you for the offer."

It wasn't too long after this that Joshua's mother walks up and introduces herself to the group as well. She mentioned about being called Umma by everyone and that they can call her that too, but there was no way that Abigail was calling another woman mom. With a polite nod towards the woman, she spoke up once more, "Do they have bathroom breaks before we go off into the groups?" If anything, she didn't need to use the restroom, she just hoped that she could get more of the alcohol that had been following the group around.






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

© weldherwings.
 





/* ------ left side ------ */




/* ------ left side info ------ */
mood flagitious

location kingdom hall.

outfit wet flannel.

fun fact Waardenburg syndrome type 2, often caused by a mutation on the MITF gene, is the type most associated with profound deafness.

tag weldherwings weldherwings floralmoon floralmoon qunqun qunqun


Max Berkowitz




/* ------ right side ------ */



Josh and Mary's mother?
Suddenly Max was desperate to make a good first impression. Smiling the most genuine smile he could muster up, he waved cautiously, with all the shy reverence of someone meeting a celebrity for the first time. "Hi, I'm Max." He signed slowly, hoping that he was right in assuming that she was the one who had helped Mary and Josh learn what they knew of his language. "It's nice to meet you."

"Do they have bathroom breaks before we go off into the groups?" Abby asked, prompting Max to flinch in surprise and look up at her with yet more stomach-twisting concern. Why didn't she go to the bathroom when he and Josh went just a few minutes ago? Either she had been struck with a sudden bout of illness or monthly plague, or she wasn't telling the truth about why she wanted to leave the meeting. Either of those possibilities made Max blanche with worry. he couldn't ask her why, either... you don't just ask people why they're going to the bathroom.

Instead he just tapped her shoulder for her attention, looking at her for a moment before saying, just for her, "As long as you're okay." But he didn't know if he believed that. The way Abby was acting made him feel like her drinking at a time like this was a sign that things were starting to go wrong for her again.
Max knew what happened to Abby when things last went wrong. He was there.

His eyes turned to Graham, giving him an icy blue glare. How dare that guy give his friend alcohol. He should've known she wasn't okay. He should've known she was struggling with things, that she was only 18, that...
It's not his fault.
Don't be a dick, Max.

Max shrank back, looking for a way to steer away from the painful thought that Abby might be relapsing.
You can't help her.
"So, uh... we're discussing the..." Instantly becoming frantic and uneasy, Max glanced up at the board on the wall declaring the bible passage they were to be focusing on.
The letters seemed to glare back at him accusingly: Leviticus 18:22

He knew this verse.
This was something he'd come across in his own family's scriptures. Something that was printed in the comments of queer media, slashed across picket signs at bloody riots, quoted at every turn by those who used religion as a weapon against those they found unworthy of human rights.

The version Max was more familiar with: וְאֶ֨ת־זָכָ֔ר לֹ֥א תִשְׁכַּ֖ב מִשְׁכְּבֵ֣י אִשָּׁ֑ה תּֽוֹעֵבָ֖ה הִֽוא: "and with a male, you shall not lie with as a woman; it is an abomination"

An abomination. That's what he was here. That's what he was to these people.
Not that he'd ever done anything with another boy, but the way he thought about it... the way thinking about it kept him up at night with shameful thoughts, made him say stupid things to nice upstanding guys like Josh...
Max felt like a liability; like as long as he was around people, he'd just keep subjecting them to his darkest secrets. He made people uncomfortable. He made Josh uncomfortable just now.

Max felt sick.

He squirmed backward in his seat, fumbling with the paper pamphlet he'd picked up on the way in.
No. No, no, no, not this one...

"So..." Max had a bad habit of talking when he was nervous, thinking that if he just got the conversation started, it would be over faster. "Umma. What would you... how would.... what would you tell someone who was struggling with homosexuality?" He spelled the last word out shame-facedly, shaking off his fingers as if it was clinging to his hand. "Not me. I... I know someone."
Max was drowning.
Every word that flew off his hands dug him into an even deeper pit.





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

© weldherwings.
 







joshua jones



  • .



And just like that, Joshua disappeared again.

Matthew was taking the lead of things, and his Umma had put herself at the front of the group as a sort of supervisor. And so Joshua was left to do what Joshua did best; just stand there, be quiet and exist. It was a little party trick his parents had taught him from a very young age. Even as a baby, he was good at just being quiet having been ripped from his mother’s womb without making a single sound. They had to give his bottom a firm whack, to get a cry of life out of him before they handed him to his parents. He barely cried as a baby, and slept through literally all night long. There were times where his family pretty much forgot that they had a newborn in the family. When Mary and Martha were born though, Mary had a lot of reflux issues, so she constantly screamed. Joshua, at the age of two, was left under the care of his older brothers who would often tell him not to talk unless he was being spoken to. I suppose it was the reason he had so much respect for his older brothers who had practically raised him. There was no way he could say no to their requests after they literally wiped his butt clean on the daily as a child.

Graham’s flirtatious manner caused Grace to blush ever so slightly. “Aish, calling me beautiful when I can well enough be your mother,” she chuckled, swatting the shirtless male’s arm slightly. “I’ll have to keep my eye on you. You seem like the cheeky one of the group”

Strike me now, Jehovah Joshua prayed to himself as he watched the interaction between the Irish man and his fifty year old mother.

As Max introduced himself to Grace, Matthew began to rearrange the chairs around them to create a circle (no without giving Joshua a look, prompting the younger Jones boy to help rearrange them also). Once finishing rearranging them, Grace gazed at her sons with a glimmer of proudness. “Let’s sit down and start our small group together, hmmh? If you do need to use the bathroom, it’s just out the door on your left” she suggested, sitting down on the closest seat. Matthew sat on one side of her, and Joshua on the other. Grace then turned to Graham with a soft, warm smile. “This is when we take time to reflect and thinking about the scriptures Jehovah have given us. How we feel about them, and how we can implement them into our lives”

Hearing Max’s question, Grace turned to the boy and listened carefully, watching his signing hands in process. “That’s an interesting question, thank you for asking.” she started, signing to Max while doing so. “First of all, Jehovah does not at all promote any sort of hatred towards homosexuals. Pursue peace with all people, as it says in Hebrews. But, as witnesses, we apply our standards to His word rather than popular opinion or culture. We know the He says for men to lie with only women, and how homosexual acts will cause someone to fall short of inheriting God’s kingdom. But we also believe that people can change. Change is an ongoing process, and we are constantly being made new in the eyes of Jehovah.”

“And if someone still has urges,” Matthew added in “A person has the ability to choose not to nurture or act on those urges. Everyone has fleshly desires, but when we are armed with a good spiritual routine of Bible study and prayer, we have the strength to resist those desires”

As his mother and brother spoke, you would think Joshua would’ve spent his time concentrating on the words of his family. But when it was on a topic as heavy as this, his mind was completely checked out. Instead, his eyes once again found themselves gazing at his hands that were placed upon his lap; his thumb slowly peeling away the skin around his other thumb. Praying and hoping that picking away at it would eventually pick away at the anxiety filling his gut presently.







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