#everyone can agree that drunk driving is fucked up and reckless but at least drink drivers make that decision while impaired

[nocturneofrecollection]

I think mostly car culture but also the internet has irreparably stunted people’s ability and care to drive well it’s insane how many people will openly brag about being a dangerous driver like it’s fun and quirky and not something that gets people killed in the thousands every year. Some laws are unjust but i promise you distracted driving and speeding laws are there for a reason not just to make your day a teeeeny bit harder

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Randall “Pink” Floyd

(Excuse the shit gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Fun fact: I had no idea Jason London had a twin and literally just found that out)

- You and Pink met for the first time after you missed your bus. He’d just finished talking with his friends and was heading out to his car when he noticed you stressing over the payphone, trying to fish quarters out of your bag so that you could possibly get a friend to pick you up.

- You were just about ready to walk home when he tapped you on the shoulder and asked if you were alright. Sighing, you gave him a quick rundown and he immediately offered to give you a ride. You were a tad hesitant, mostly because you didn’t want to be a bother to someone you barely knew but he insisted, telling you that it was no problem.

- A wave of relief washed over you and you gratefully thanked him, following him as he led you to his car. To be clear, you did know of him. You vaguely recalled your friends telling you about him and how nice he was, and of course you’d seen a few of his football games so it wasn’t like you were just hopping into a total strangers car.

- The thing about Pink is that he’s pretty much friends with everybody. No matter who you are, where you come from, or what clique you’re in; he’s down to chat and he’s pretty damn good at it. You’d expected at least a little discomfort and awkwardness during your car ride but there really wasn’t any. He was as sweet as could be and you found yourself actually really enjoying the conversation he’d started.

- Once you arrived at your house, you thanked him profusely to which he only laughed and assured you that it was no trouble at all. Before he left, he gave you a smile and said he’d see you around school. As he pulled away, you realized that you might have unwillingly developed a crush on the boy. ...Little did you know he felt the same.

- When you went to school the next day you hadn’t really expected anything to happen. You figured that he’d given you a ride and that would be that but as you were putting your things in your locker you felt a familiar tap on your shoulder. You turned a bit and there he was, standing behind you with a smile that made you melt.

- He greeted you and asked if he could walk you to class to which you obviously agreed. This sort of thing continued on for nearly a week before he stopped you outside of your classroom and asked if you’d like to come hang out with him and his friends after school. You weren’t about to pass up an offer made by a boy you were really starting to crush on so you said yes. He smiled and told you he’d meet you by your locker after the final bell.

- You spent the entire day anticipating the moment school let out. The instant the bell rang it took everything you had in you not to shoot out of your seat and run down the halls. You took a second to relax, checking yourself over before you started the short trip to your locker.

- By the time you made it there, Pink was already leaned against the lockers beside yours waiting for you. You got your things and the two of you headed out to his car, driving over to where his friends were meeting.

- Once you got there, he introduced you to everyone and excused himself to talk with the guys for a few minutes. You spoke to some of the girls in your grade before he came over and stole you away, leading you to a more secluded area where the two of you could chat in private.

- Prior to this, you only ever really had short conversations so you were more than happy to finally start getting to know each other better. As the two of you sat down, he jokingly proposed that you play twenty questions. You responded “ask me anything” and so the game began.

- For a while, you were both just asking whatever came to mind: what’s your favorite color, favorite food, favorite subject, favorite band, etc. Then you got to the good stuff, the questions that prompted jokes and stories which had you laughing till you nearly cried. It was after one of these stories that he got to ask the question he’d been saving all week.

“When’s the last time someone took you out for dinner?”

“Hmmm,” you laughed, tapping your chin as you pretended to think. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“How about tonight?” You nearly choked on your drink.

“Tonight?” You questioned, wanting to make sure he was saying what you thought he was saying.

“Or now or whenever....” he added, shrugging his shoulders as he attempted to appear nonchalant.

“Yeah, sure. I’d really like that.”

A smile spread across his face as you agreed. “Great,” he told you. “So I’ll pick you up at six?”

- Later that day, he took you to the drive-in and bought you that dinner he’d promised. The two of you went bowling afterwards and you ended the night with a long kiss in the parking lot.

- After a few more dates the two of you became official and you were both as happy as could be.

- There’s not a ton of pda in your relationship but he makes sure everyone knows you’re together. 

- Hanging out on the moon tower. 

- He’s always ready to defend you when things suddenly go south. 

- He’s constantly subtly looking out for you. He always has you walk in front of him so he knows where you are, asks a bunch of people if they’ve seen you when you disappear somewhere, walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street, etc.

- It’s the little things that show you he cares. 

- He can cuddle any which way you want but he’s a pretty big fan of laying his head on your chest while you thread your fingers through his hair. He’s a big baby but you’re the only one allowed to know that.

- When you want to be cuddled he pulls you into his side and traces patterns down your hips and thighs. 

- Goodbye kisses. 

- Handholding.

- Handshakes. 

- Sitting on the back of his car with him.

- Getting him to think more rationally and stop overreacting about the sign up sheet or whatever else is bothering him. 

- Inside jokes.

- Playing with his necklace.

- Constantly swapping cars throughout the night. 

- It was the 70′s, everybody smoked weed, and he has a pretty good dealer so if you want to try a little bit of the devils grass then he’s down to supply you with it. 

- Concert dates.

- Late night cruising.

- Sometimes he’ll stumble through your window late at night or really early in the morning, a little drunk and wanting to cuddle... or fuck. 

- Early, early morning drives where the two of you are still a little buzzed but also tired. 

- Cheering him on at his games even though he isn’t fond of playing. 

- Hanging out on the football field. 

- Ruffling his hair.

- Doing a lot of stupid, reckless shit together. 

- Making out a lot. 

- He’s a horny boy, especially when drunk, so be prepared to be felt up every once and a while, or at least for him to attempt to. 

- Let’s not forget that Pink cheated in his girlfriend, alright? Scummy move, obviously, but I feel like their relationship wasn’t the greatest to begin with? Like he really did not seem into her at all 90% of the time and she seemed like she knew exactly what was up whenever he was doing something. So I feel like under different circumstances he wouldn’t cheat on his girlfriend. 

- He flirts and teases you a lot. He loves getting you all shy and flustered. 

- Hearing about all the crazy shit him and his friends get up to, he just scratches the back of his neck and shoots you shy smiles when you look over at him.

- Laying your head in his lap. 

- Sitting on his lap, he sits really far back in his seat in general so you’re always able to gently plop yourself down without any fuss. 

- Since Pink is a bit of an overreacter I can imagine he gets quite jealous. When he does, he doesn’t say anything but he noticeably watches you and the guy until you come over to him. 

- When you’re fighting, he gets super passive aggressive and annoying so you tend to just sigh and give up after a while. Give him some time  to himself and hope for the best, that’s all I can say. 

- He really can’t stand seeing you cry. He hates when you’re upset, he always gets super uncomfortable and just tries his best to cheer you up as quickly as possible. 

- Whenever you have a test, he always tells you not to worry and that you’ll do great. He likes being able to calm you down and be the reason you feel better. 

- Constantly being introduced to new people since he makes friends every other minute. 

- Hanging out at the emporium.

- Going to parties with him. 

- Double dates with Michelle and Pickford. 

- He has a habit of holding/pulling you by the belt/belt loops. 

- Watching him and Dons little comedy routines. 

- Being gently rough with each other, like he’ll “tackle” you down and start making out with you or you’ll slap each others hands away to keep each other from something. 

- Letting him rant when he needs to, even if you think what he’s getting upset over is a little silly. 

- Spending entire nights together. 

- Jamming out to rock albums and going to the record store together. 

- Playing pool and Foosball together. 

- He’s really good at charming your parents and other relatives. Leave it to him, he’ll make them fall in love with him in the span of a barbecue. 

- He loves when you gently touch him. Brushing something off his cheek, pulling something from his hair, things like that. He has and will always melt when you do. 

- Letting him copy off your homework and notes when he ditches class. 

- He says “I love you” sparingly so it always means a lot when he does say it. 

- You don’t really talk about the future but he’s convinced it’s going to be much better than high school... maybe because you’ll be married?

[soliitvde]

𝐒𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 '𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈' 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍 --  why  are  you  full  of  rage  ? 

(  fivel stewart  /  cis woman  /  she and her  ). introducing  sokanon ‘suki’ rankin , the host for the crimson. they’ll be eighteen years old, and joined the rogues one month ago. you’ll always see a baseball bat around wherever she is. 

𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙾𝙵 𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙴𝚂 

full name : sokanon tamaki rankin 

nickname : suki 

name meaning : origin, native american . meaning , rain

age : eighteen 

gender / pronouns : cis woman / she/her

date of birth : april seventh 

location of birth :  ridgeway , pennsylvania  

past residence : newark , deleware  

current affiliation : the rogues 

moral alignment : neutral evil 

family : calian rankin ( twin brother ) , david rankin ( father ) , joanna hardin ( step - mother ) , mae tamaki ( mother ) 

aesthetics : 

playlist : wasteland baby ! - hozier , thunder - imagine dragons , human - rag n bone man , way down we go -kaleo , renegades - x ambassadors 

character inspiration : 

𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳

on the evening of april the seventh , two little babies took their very first breath of earthly air . willka rankin , name meaning sun -- symbolic for power and strength . a little boy who cried and cried and only stopped when his twin sister was finally beside him . sokanon rankin , name meaning rain --  the life - blood of every living being or the foreshadowing of an ominous event . * trigger warning : death * kimi rankin only survived to see her children cry . she kissed their foreheads and used her last breath to give them their names . * end trigger warning *

growing up without a mother was difficult , their father did tried his best , loved them with all his heart . but mothers were needed . they provided a certain love that one would be incomplete without -- at least that’s how sokanon felt . her whole life , she felt that something was missing . and she scavenged through everything to find it . first when she was younger it was sport -- track and field was what she excelled at , a natural sprinter and with a little bit of training she truly could go pro . she was young and ambitious and wore herself out with training and races and doing everything one could possibly do to excel . but it wasn’t enough . there was still something missing . 

then she tried love , romantic love that is . just turned fifteen , saw the ( in her own words ) cutest boy in the whole wide world . but he was her best friend’s crush first . and a fundamental rule that the two of them established way back when , finders keepers . but suki was in - love , truly , truly in love ( at least she thought it was ) .  and so why would she let anything get in the way of that ?  so suki chose love over friendship and her best friend never forgave her for that -- little girls could be so petty sometimes . that was what they were after all , just little girls who thought they had found love . 

fate was quick to teach them the opposite . at sixteen , almost a whole year with the supposed love of her life , her first kiss , first love , first everything , including , her first heartbreak . her best friend got her revenge , kissed him at a party before stealing his heart . that was painful . she isolated herself from everyone and everything , she was filled with a certain sort of grief , an untameable anger . and the only thing that could numb her pain were acts of recklessness -- partying high . driving drunk , shoplifting , graffiti , anything that made her forget that she was so fucking empty . 

her father was quick to let her know what a disappointment she had become , with his passive aggressiveness and endless comparisons with her perfect brother . why can’t you be more like your brother ?  universities are already offering him scholarships, he’s on track of graduating valedictorian , he’s class president . blah , blah , blah , eventually ending in , you are a failure sokanon . but his words only fuelled her fire , amplified her desires to forget everything . and she found herself in juvenile detention centre for underage drinking violations and joyriding a car . 

by seventeen , nothing was better . except that she had ( re ) discovered  sex . and the town was quick to add slut to her never - ending list of labels , next to bitch , rebel , criminal and of course , by special contribution of her father , failure . what’s worse was that her brother , her twin brother , left her alone through it all -- though she supposes that he didn’t know how to reach out to her , she didn’t make it particularly easy , always only responding with glares , mumbles and slamming of doors . but nonetheless she was alone .  to push her even further towards the outskirts of their family , her father remarried , to a woman five years his senior , named joanna hrdin , a psychologist and part - time jiu - jitsu teacher . 

joanna , of course , tried to fix her -- even though suki hated it , she respected her for it , no - one else bothered to try . and in joanna’s attempt to fix her hanging-by-a-thinning-thread of a relationship with her brother , she suggested that two of them go on a trip . where it was just the two of them , bonding and enhancing their ‘ unique and extremely special connection of being born as twins .’ her brother instantly agreed and suki was hesitant at first but the opportunity to get away from town became her motivation -- her last hoorah before graduation . they had set of for delaware just as the news aired about pollenation . 

a four and half hour drive of pure silence . it was torture . she felt sorry for her brother , having to put up with all her teenage angst and human complexes but she was angry , she’s been angry for so long she doesn’t know how to stop or what it even felt like to be at peace , with your family , with yourself .  and that was something he would never understand . so they continued the drive in silence , background music of sufjan stevens and hozer just slightly dulling the tension .  

they made it do newark , deleware ( recommended by joan , apparently the parks there were great stimulants for deep reflection ) and settled into a motel . and the next morning they had heard news of borders closing . calian started freaking out , calling their father , pacing the room and sweating excessively and suki only sat on the bed , snacking on licorice and hot cheetos as she watched re - runs of old cartoons . 

independence day , july 4 2019 , that was when the realities of it all truly hit her . the world descended into utter chaos . and calian , sweet , sweet calian who’s never been exposed to such horrific scenes and much less to the the savagery of human nature , found himself staining his sister’s shirt with a torrent of tears . his vulnerability , that was her ultimate trigger . that was when suki armoured up , made plans , she was going to protect him no matter what . 

but , like in most things she does , suki failed . they were together for months , running , fighting , they got both stronger and tougher and got closer as siblings ( and would you look at that , joanna was right . delware did help them become closer ) . but it wasn’t enough , suki’s protection , her teachings , her strategies for survival , it wasn’t enough . * trigger warning : death * she’s not quite sure how it happened , they were scouting out a house for food and supplies and she heard a scream . she found her brother outside with a monster devouring his flesh . and she ran . despite her screams for help , for mercy , she ran . * end trigger warning * 

she was alone for months before finally finding the rogues a month ago . 

𝚆𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙰𝙱𝚈 !

she keeps to herself but always has a scowl on her face . she doesn’t get involved in group discussions , doesn’t really care what happens  , will do whatever job she’s been asked to do . she’s detached to every emotion except anger and grief . she has a really short fuse , unlike my other chara , she will go hulk - smash like that * clicks fingers * 

she carries a baseball bat , it was her brother’s weapon . they had gone to delaware partly to see their universities and calian had thought he could show the scouts a bit of his batting skills  ( idk how american universities work ???? ) and they were going to be there for a few weeks so he wanted to keep practicing . but she took it when she ran away . 

she can’t sleep , she has nightmares and is usually up at night either keeping watch or just wandering .  one time she had a really bad nightmare and she screamed and she was really embarrassed about it and she was scared that the group saw it as a weakness so she’s never let herself really sleep since then . 

she’s pretty good at running , can sprint really well and she’s got a pretty good arm . she also knows a bit of martial arts , partially from just learning to defend herself and also partially from her step - mother who was a jiu - jitsu teacher in her free time . 

she doesn’t trust people so she doesn’t try to make friends and she is brutally honest and will call you out when she wants to and she likes to antagonise people and annoy them a lot by bringing up their past or mentioning their mistakes 🙈

𝙸'𝙼 𝙸𝙽 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚈𝙾𝚄

up for brainstorming but sooomee ideas are : 

a bit of a flrtiationships may haps ??? 

a love / hate relationship -- suki being mostly the ‘hate’ part 

a mentor / mentee -- since she’s only eighteen and is very reckless and has no control over her emotions , needs some guidance 

people from her town ??? 

a fellow nomad that she and her brother had encountered ??? 

someone who helps her sleep and / or stays up with her when she can’t sleep ??

confidant ??? someone she talks to a lot for some reason ?? 

a good influence -- uh someone who helps her be goodi

bad influence -- someone she is helping to become more ‘bad-ass’ (her words)

TLDR 

a sad , angry , brutally honest girl who’s been told she’s a failure her whole life , carrying the guilt of her brother’s death ,  isn’t afraid to put herself first  ! 

[fanforthefics]

#40, either tyson/gabe or sid/geno would be lovely (all of your fics are so good with big conflict that ends with a happy ending)

exes meeting again after not speaking for years au

“Oh shit,” Tyson says, loudly, grabbing Colin’s arm. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” 

Colin looks down at Tyson’s sudden death grip on his forearm. Putting aside the fact that Tysons’ strong enough that it hurts, up until right now he’d thought Tyson was having a good time at this party. He’d been having a good time at the party--he likes house parties, like the easy, casual intimacy. Tyson likes house parties too, but Tyson likes all parties. 

“What’s up?” Colin asks. Tyson does not appear to have spilled his drink or injured himself, which is a minor miracle in itself. But his face is very white, in a way that makes Colin think this might actually be serious, not one of Tyson’s antics. “Are you okay?” 

“No.” Tyson takes a gulp of the brightly colored drink in his glass. “No, I’m--that.” He jerks his head across the room, at where a bunch of people are standing in conversation, including a tall blonde man. “That’s Gabe.” 

“Gabe?” Colin echoes. “Your Gabe?” 

Tyson’s face, always so expressive, twists. “Not my Gabe, but. That Gabe.” 

Colin manages to keep his mouth shut only by great effort of will. He wasn’t here for Gabe, but even though he met Tyson a good six months after Gabe broke up with Tyson and went back to Sweden,  he still feels like he was there for the aftermath. At least Nate said it was the aftermath--Tyson’s reckless rebounding, his throwing himself into relationship after relationship like he was trying to prove something, the way his laugh went too loud and thin. Even now, two years later, there are still times when Tyson gets drunk and starts muttering things about how could he just leave like that, without even thinking about whether their relationship was worth staying for. 

Colin is probably staring. “I thought he was in Sweden?” he asks. 

“So did fucking I,” Tyson spits. He takes another drink. “Fuck, we can--I can’t do this, Willy, why the fuck is he here?” 

“We’ll leave,” Colin decides. If Tyson can’t do this, they’ll go home. 

Except then-- “Tyson!” someone yells, and Tyson looks up to see who it is, and Colin can see Gabe jerk and turn too, and then he sees Gabe’s eyes widen sa he sees Tyson. 

“Who was--” 

“He’s coming over,” Colin warns, cutting Tyson off. Tyson goes even paler. 

“Fuck, he--of course he fucking is. How’s my hair? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. I--” 

“Hi, Tyson.” Gabe’s voice is softer than Colin had expected, somehow. But he is just as handsome as Tyson said. Colin had always assumed Tyson was just exaggerating, as he tended to, when he waxed drunkenly on about him, but no, that was real. 

“Gabe.” Tyson nods. He’s clearly trying to sound dignified, but his voice is higher-pitched than normal. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“Yeah, well. It is EJ’s party, so--” 

“I meant in North America,” Tyson snaps, cutting him off. “How long are you visiting for? A quick fly by just to remind all of us mere mortals that you’re still more handsome than anyone else and that we can’t dream of reaching those heights?”

A smile flickers on Gabe’s lips. He’s still staring at Tyson, and Colin would be wondering about that look a lot more if Tyson’s knuckles weren’t worryingly white on his cup. “Um, actually. I’ve moved back.” 

Tyson actually rocks back on his heels. Colin reaches out to steady him--knowing Tyson he’d manage to injure himself here. Gabe’s eyes dart down to Colin’s hand on Tyson’s arm. Colin doesn’t move it--Tyson needs someone in his corner. 

“You’ve moved back?” Tyson echoes. He’s getting louder. “You just--you moved back?” 

“Yeah.” Gabe nods. He glances at Colin again. “Are you going to introduce me?” he asks, teasing, a little chiding. Colin knows his friend well enough to know it’s the kind of thing Tyson would be into, if it wasn’t from this man. Or maybe especially because it’s this man. 

Tyson must know it too, because he leans a little closer to Colin. “Yes. Colin, this is Gabe. Gabe, this is Colin.” Tyson glances up at Colin, and he has that look in his eyes--the reckless, self-deprecating thing he gets when he does something entirely stupid with himself, because Tyson is careful with everyone but himself. “My boyfriend.” 

Gabe visibly startles. Colin hopes he doesn’t too, looking back at Tyson--Tyson just looks at him. It is undeniably a horrible idea. But--Colin likes to think he’s a good friend, and Tyson in the right mood is impossible to say no too. Nate calls it a super power, sometimes. And Colin really doesn’t like how startled Gabe looks, like he hadn’t considered that Tyson might find someone else. 

And mostly--Tyson’s hurting. Colin doesn’t like his friends to hurt. So, 

“Hi,” he says, holding out the hand not on Tyson’s arm to Gabe. “Colin Wilson. Nice to meet you.”  

“Gabe Landeskog.” Gabe holds out a hand, shakes. It’s...definitely more forceful a shake than someone meeting at a party would need to give. “So how long has this been going on?” he asks. He doesn’t say it was nice to meet Colin, Colin can’t help but tell. 

“I--” Colin starts, trying to figure out a believable lie, but Tyson takes over. 

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he finishes, and defiantly leans against Colin’s shoulder. “You made it very clear that it wasn’t.” 

“Tys--” Gabe reaches out a hand, then stops it. Glances at Colin. “Tyson. That’s not what I--” 

“If you say anything along the lines of it wasn’t you, it was me, I’m going to start screaming,” Tyson warns. “I know that you like scenes, but you won’t like this one. You know how loudly I can scream.” 

Colin bites back his smile. Gabe’s face goes through a number of contortions between hurt and smiling. Tyson hears it, then shrugs and doesn’t react. 

Gabe lands on a weak smile. “Noted,” he says. He rocks onto his heels, then back. “I--it was good to see you, Tys. You’re looking good.” 

He says it earnestly, honestly. Tyson goes red, glances away. “Yes, you’re looking good too, you always somehow manage to look better, we know.” He’s hanging on to Colin for dear life now, and Colin wraps an arm around his shoulders. Gabe’s gaze narrows in on it. “Um. But you know, I’ve traded up with blonde bombshells, so.” 

Gabe’s offended face would be pretty funny in another circumstance. Colin would even feel flattered, in another circumstance. 

As it is, though, Gabe draws himself up. “Right,” he says, stiffly. “I, um. I’ll let you get back to it, then. You and your boyfriend.” He makes a motion at jerking his head in Colin’s direction, then gives Tyson a very different kind of smile, then backs away. 

As soon as he’s out of sight, Tyson slumps over. “Fuck,” he mutters into his hands. “Fuck, he fucking--he just came back? After giving up--fuck,” he says again, and lifts up his head. He’s biting hard at his lip. “I--thanks, bud. You’re a lifesaver, I know it’s such a move, but I couldn’t--you saw him, I needed something to win, and like, going out with you would be a winner move, so I made a play.” 

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t any skin off of Colin’s back. “But--do you want to leave?” 

“I don’t want him to drive me away,” Tyson retorts. “I--this is my friends’ party too. I should get to stay. I shouldn’t--god, I shouldn’t care so much, it’s been two years, I shouldn’t...” he shakes his head. “I don’t want to still be in love with him,” he mutters, still plaintive, too honest in the way Tyson can be, in the way that always makes Colin want to hug him. 

So he does, because Tyson looks like he needs a hug. He acts like it too, leaning into Colin’s arms. From over Tyson’s shoulder, Colin can see Gabe eying them, his brows furrowed. 

Finally, Tyson wiggles like he needs to be let go, because he loves physical contact until he doesn’t, and Colin does. Tyson’s eyes are a little red, but he looks okay. “Thanks,” he says, too his hands, because there are other things Tyson can’t be honest about. 

Colin shrugs. “Whatever you need, bud.” 

“Dangerous,” Tyson replies, with a weak try at his usual flirtatious grin. It fades quickly. “I--I need to call Nate. I’ll just be...” he gestures at the door out to the patio. Colin nods, and hugs him again quickly before letting him go. Being good friends with Tyson means accepting that Nate will always be better friends with him, but it’s fine. Him going means Colin doesn’t feel entirely guilty chatting with other friends, though he keeps an eye on the door Tyson went out of, where he can still see him on the phone, and one on Gabe, to make sure he doesn’t go out after him. 

Half an hour later, Colin needs another drink, and figures he should probably make sure Tyson’s okay. Getting him more drunk is probably the wrong choice, but he still goes to the kitchen to mix him another drink. 

He’s gotten himself a beer, and is surveying the alcohol to decide what to make Tyson, when behind him comes a very snippy, “Tyson doesn’t like tequila.” 

“Hm?” Colin turns. Gabe is standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his slightly puffed-out chest. 

“Tyson doesn’t like tequila. He says he does but it gives him a headache. He’d rather have vodka.” 

Colin honestly doesn’t remember that, but he doesn’t have any reason to think Gabe is wrong, other than the way Gabe’s glaring. It’s rather a lot. “Okay,” Colin agrees, and reaches for the vodka. 

“He likes vodka cranberries,” Gabe informs him. He sounds smug, like knowing that when Colin doesn’t means he won. “Or vodka tonics in a pinch, but he’d rather the cranberries. Not a coke.” 

“Okay,” Colin says again. He mixes a vodka cranberry, Gabe eying him the whole time. 

“And why isn’t he here?” Gabe demands. “Did you just leave him alone? He doesn’t like being alone.” 

“I know that,” Colin chuckles. He thinks everyone knows that. 

Gabe clearly doesn’t take the chuckle well. “Then why aren’t you outside with him?” he demands again. 

“Because he’s on the phone with Nate,” Colin tells Gabe. He can’t imagine that friendship was different before. And Gabe’s lips do twitch. “I know better than to try to get in between that.” 

“Good.” Gabe’s still glaring. Colin waits. He doesn’t owe Gabe anything. And the longer Gabe’s in here, the longer he’s not outside making Tyson go pale.

It takes a few minutes, but finally, Gabe takes a step forward. They’re about the same height, which Gabe doesn’t seem pleased by; he’s got the air of someone who’s good at talking down to people. Colin keeps waiting. 

Gabe lets out a sharp, angry breath. “You better treat him well,” he spits at him. “Not just well. You better keep him--incandescently happy.”

Colin raises his eyebrows. “I thought Tyson made it clear that you didn’t get a say in that,” he points out. 

“I don’t care. I know I don’t get a say, because I was an idiot two years ago and gave up the best thing--” he cuts himself off, but Colin has the time to see his face now. To see the pain across it, pain he recognizes, from too many nights of Tyson staring into a glass, seeing someone else. “But I still--if you fuck this up, if you fuck him up, I’m going to--I know I missed my chance, and that’s--it is what it is, but I’ll still fuck you up if he’s not happy.” 

Colin’s tolerance for dramatics has gone up since befriending Tyson, but it will never be that high. And this is stupid. 

“I’m not his boyfriend,” he says. Gabe freezes. A bright, painful looking hope flickers into his eyes. 

“You aren’t?” he asks, quiet. 

“No.” Colin shakes his head. “Now go say that to Tyson.” 

“What? But--” They’re too old for the three years between them to feel long, but Gabe looks young, in that moment. “I cant. I messed up, and I thought maybe--but he’s moved on, and--” 

“Go say that to Tyson,” Colin repeats. He’s a practical sort of guy, he likes to think. Gabe clearly hasn’t gotten over Tyson. Tyson definitely never got over Gabe. Maybe Gabe messed up, but Tyson still needs to hear this. “You’ll never know until you try.” 

“But--” 

“Next time, he really will be dating someone,” Colin points out. “Do you want to hear that?” 

That hardens Gabe’s jaw. “No,” he decides, and stalks out, towards the patio. 

Colin considers not following, but he thinks he deserves to hear some of this. And if he made the wrong call, Tyson might need him as backup. 

Tyson’s still alone on the patio, though he’s off the phone, and is just looking out into the backyard. He turns when he hears the door open, though--and his face clearly doesn’t know what to do to see Gabe there. 

“What are you doing, Gabe?” he asks, and this time he sounds tired. 

“I wanted to talk.” Gabe takes a step out onto the patio. 

“I don’t think my boyfriend will like that,” Tyson retorts, glancing over Gabe’s shoulder at Colin. 

Colin can hear the smile in Gabe’s voice. “I know you’re not dating.” 

“You know, how? I mean,” Tyson corrects quickly. “We are, you’re wrong.” 

“He told me.” 

“Seriously?” Tyson’s attention is momentarily diverted. “You couldn’t even hold out an hour, Willy? Some kind of friend you are, I’m trading you in.” 

Colin knows Tyson’s empty threats, and shrugs. “It was a ridiculous plan anyway.” 

“Yeah, it’s me, what did you expect?” 

“Tyson.” Gabe’s voice is rough, and all of Tyson’s attention clearly disappears to look at Gabe, who’s halfway out on the patio now, a few feet from Tyson. “Tys, I--can we talk?” 

“Why? You said everything you needed to say,” Tyson informs him. HIs hands are wrapped around the alternate wrists now, clenching hard. “You said it two years ago, when you just--took that job without even thinking about me, without wanting to figure things out at all, and now you’re just back and so it clearly wasn’t the job it was just that I wasn’t enough and--”

“I was an idiot,” Gabe cuts Tyson off. He’s leaning in towards Tyson, like he’d be touching him if he could. “Two years ago I was an idiot and I thought that I should go back to Sweden because it was what I’d always planned to do and I couldn’t let a boy get in the way of that, and I shouldn’t have. I should have been flexible, but you know me.” He tries for a smile. “I’m not good at flexible. And by the time I realized why nothing in Sweden seemed as bright...you had blocked my number.“ 

Tyson swallows. “That’s what you do, when someone dumps you and you don’t want to risk pathetically drunk dialing them.” 

“Well it’s very inconvenient when someone wants to pathetically drunk dial you,” Gabe says, and Tyson shudders. Colin takes a drink. He should maybe go inside, but he’s still not 100% convinced this is ending well. 

“So, what,” Tyson asks, clearing his throat. He can’t quite look at Gabe. “You thought you’d come back and find me and we’d just--pick up where we left off, like you hadn’t dumped me?” 

“I--not that simple, but I hoped.” Gabe takes a step forward. “Or we could find a way to move forward.” 

Tyson’s breath catches, and he looks down at his hands. Colin is considering breaking this up when, “You broke my heart, Gabe,” Tyson says, quiet and sincere and heartbreaking in itself. 

Gabe’s face looks like someone stabbed him. “I broke mine too, if that helps.” 

Tyson smiles, real but like it hurts. “It sort of does, honestly.” He breathes in, rough. “But I just--I don’t know what to do with this.” 

“Give me a chance?” Gabe takes another careful step forward. His voice is soft, almost gentle. “I know I don’t deserve it, but--I want to try to.” 

Tyson is just staring, his eyes huge, his whole body tight. Everything’s right there on his face, like it always is, how he’s still so obviously in love with Gabe, all his self-preservation instincts. How much he wants and doesn’t trust, either Gabe or himself. 

His gaze flicks over Gabe’s shoulder, to Colin--and it’s panicked and a question, a plea. Colin--he’s not sure he trust Gabe, but he trusts that Tyson’s unhappy now and he’d be happier with Gabe. He trusts the ache in Gabe’s voice when he called Tyson the best thing that happened to him.  

And really, he trusts Tyson, even when Tyson doesn’t. 

He shrugs. Tyson makes a quick face, then looks back at Gabe, who’s still just waiting, and Colin can see when he starts to smile, his big unapologetic smile, and he sees Gabe light up. “Well, my boyfriend said it’s okay,” Tyson says, and Gabe spares a laugh before he jerks forward, catches himself. 

“Tys, can I--” 

“We’re taking it slow,” Tyson warns, but then, “But first, if you aren’t kissing me in the next ten seconds I’m going to--” he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Gabe’s kissing him, all desperate, aching need that has Tyson clinging back. 

Of course Tyson would be this dramatic, Colin thinks, sparing them a smile before he goes back inside. Maybe this will decrease the average level of drama, if--

“Where are you going?” Colin looks over ins surprise. Tyson’s appeared next to him, looking messy and shamelessly kissed. Gabe, next to him, his hand firmly around Tyson’s waist, doesn’t look any better. 

“I thought you would be busy,” Colin points out, giving Tyson’s hair a pointed look. “I was going to--” 

“Nah, we’ve got a party to enjoy, right Gabe?” Tyson asks, adding the last bit pointedly. In a voice that is definitely not a whisper, he adds, “Taking it slow means he has to wait. So. Party.” 

“I’m not the one who enjoys waiting,” Gabe observes, a little biting, which makes Tyson snicker, and flush.

“Well, learn to. We’re going to enjoy this party with Willy and you are going to play nice, and I am going to get drunk and probably make out with you a little, and then you are going to drive me home and be a gentleman and drop me off.” 

“Oh I am?” Gabe asks, grinning. He’s looking at Tyson fondly enough that it makes Colin a little uncomfortable, honestly. 

“You are,” Tyson confirms. “I’m going to hold this over you forever.” 

Gabe’s face lights up again, a sort of undisguised happiness that is as sweet as it is overwhelming to even catch the edges of it. Colin’s a little surprised that Tyson’s this into someone as full on as Gabe, but he guesses that maybe they’re well matched in that. “I can’t wait,” Gabe says, and Tyson makes a strangled noise. 

“Stop,” he mutters, then turns to Colin. “Okay. So I need a drink--Gabe, that’s you--and then we need to find EJ because I have a lot of shit to give him about his Instagram.” 

It’s nice to see Tyson like this, so brightly happy. “Sounds good,” Colin says, and means it. 

[wdwimagine]

shut up - DS.

pairings: reader x daniel seavey

warnings? a few swear words.

summary: you’ve been dating daniel for a while now and when you witness someone being incredibly rude to his little sister you step in.

requested? lol no.

“Are you ready?” My boyfriend asked, watching as I placed a jacket on over my outfit. It was one in the morning and for some stupid reason, the two of us had agreed to pick up his little sister from a party she was going too. Allowing the other members of the family to sleep.

“Hm.” I mumbled in response, looking down at my leggings and my hoodie. I was going to wear my pyjamas but Daniel said that I couldn’t go out to a party looking like that, so I changed into something equally as ratchet but more presentable. The two of us left the house, walking towards the car. I was so incredibly tired, but I didn’t want to stay alone at the Seavey household if everyone was asleep and Dan was out picking up Anna.

Daniel pulled out of the driveway and began driving towards the address that Anna had sent us. It was a houseparty she was attending, but we knew that she wouldn’t be reckless like many people her age. She also knew many people who were going to be there so we knew that she would be in relatively safe hands. And we trust her.

“Why did we agree to this?” Daniel asked me as we stopped at a stop light. He grabbed my left hand in his right, turning to look at me. I shrugged in response, no energy in my body at all to actually reply. He simply laughed at my energy - or lack of it - and began driving again.

Soon enough we pulled up down the street from where the house was. We could hear the music from all the way down here, see the flashing lights and also see a bunch of people outside. Daniel turned the car off and got his phone out to text Anna.

“Okay so that’s a lot more people than I was expecting.” Daniel mumbled to himself but I completely agreed. We both sat there in silence, waiting for Anna to reply to his text or walk towards the car but she didn’t.

“Can you text her?” Daniel asked me. “Maybe she didn’t get my text.” I nodded my head in reply, unlocking my phone so I could send her a quick text. But once again we had no reply.

“I’m just gonna go in and find her.” I said unbuckling myself, it was gonna be so much more easier.

“No, (Y/N), don’t bother.” Daniel said trying to stop me.

“I will literally be two minutes.” I said opening the car door. “I’ll text you if I need anything.” He nodded his head in reply and I shut the car door, walking towards the house. I could already smell the booze and I wasn’t even near the house yet.

I rolled my eyes, shoving past a bunch of drunk people in the front garden. Oh how I did not miss house parties at all. I walked inside the house and couldn’t see Anna from where I was so I decided to walk around. This house is a lot bigger on the inside than it looks. I walked into the ‘dancing’ area but still couldn’t find her, being shoved left right and centre by people who didn’t even batter an eyelid in my direction. I decided to walk into the kitchen area, but there were two big boys in my way.

“Excuse me!” I said to them, trying to talk over their music. Thankfully, they were nice enough kids to move out of my way. I thanked them and looked around too see Anna surrounded by three girls. I walked over and when I was close enough I could finally hear what they were saying, and Anna looked absolutely mortified.

“You think you’re famous because your brother is.” One of the girls said to her. They were all in her face and I wasn’t going to tolerate it. “Why did you think we invited you to this party? Because of who your brother is. Face it, Anna, you’re a nobody and no one likes you.”

“You’re fat and ugly.” Another girl said. “No one likes you and no one cares about you.”

“Ergh can someone just get her out of my house!” The final girl said. “It’s gonna smell like homeless people in here.” Okay now I’m pissed.

“Oi!” I yelled walking over to the three girls. They all turned to look at me, looking at me like I was shit, arms crossed over their chests.

“Who are you?” The ‘main’ girl asked.

“What’s it to you?” I replied before turning to Anna. “C’mon, Anna, let’s go home.”

“Oh so you’re another skank then.” One of the girls said making the two others laugh.

“I’m the skank?” I asked crossing my arms over my chest, staring at all three of them. “Wow middle school comebacks, how original. You said all those horrible things to Anna, about how no one cares but oh look here I am and I care about her. She is loved by so many people and shouldn’t be surrounded by idiots like you, she’s not fat, she’s not ugly, and she’s a thousand percent of a better human being than all three of you put together.”

“(Y/N).” Anna mumbled coming to stand next to me.

“You’d rather be friends with a bunch of people who are incredibly fake. You’ve lost out on a great friend here, so that sucks for you.” I said linking my arm with Anna’s. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna leave with Anna now and if I find out from her that you lot are saying all these rude things about her you will have me to deal with. And I won’t be as nice as I have been now. So have a nice life and hopefully don’t get your drink spiked. Goodbye.”

All three of the girls stood there in silence, not knowing what to say to me. I simply smiled and walked out of the house with Anna by my side. When we finally got out of the house that’s when she spoke up.

“Thank you for saying all those things about me.” She smiled at me. I smiled back at her.

“Don’t listen to them. None of it is true. I hope you know that.” I said. “How long have they been rude to you?”

“Like two weeks.” She replied. “I don’t have the guts to say anything but you did so, hopefully they’ll leave me alone.”

“They better.” I said opening her car door so she could get in. I walked to the passenger side and got in the car smiling at Daniel.

“How was the party?” He asked beginning to drive away.

“Eventful.” Anna simply replied.

—

“You’ll not believe what I overheard some girls saying to Anna.” I said later that evening - or well morning. Daniel and I were finally back in his room and I was stood in the bathroom talking to him as I got ready for bed.

“What?” He asked from the bedroom.

“Just some really horrible things.” I sighed. “Calling her fat, and ugly and saying how no one cares about her.”

“What?” He asked again, his voice a lot more serious. “I’m gonna go speak to Anna.” Okay now he’s pissed.

“No don’t.” I said, running out of the bathroom. I stood in front of him as he made his way to the door. “I’m sure she doesn’t want the attention. Besides I may have said a few things to the girls myself.”

“What did you say?” He asked.

“Oh you know - she’s not fat or ugly, she has people who love her. She’s not fake, she’s an amazing person, she’s better human being than all of them combined. I could’ve said more because they called me a skank but at least I wasn’t dressed with my tits out.”

“You said all this?”

“I did.” I replied. “Look I know it wasn’t the best thing to say and I’m sure I embarrassed Anna, and maybe have made it worse for her. I shouldn’t have given them the attention but I was just really pissed off and -“

“Oh for fucks sake can you please shut your mouth so that I can tell you I love you!” Daniel said taking me aback. He grabbed my face with his hands and my jaw dropped in surprise. We’ve never said I love you to one another before. I was taken further aback when he kissed me, deep and meaningful. Not like our many kisses we’ve had before.

“Did you just?” I asked when we finally pulled away from one another. Our foreheads were rested on one another.

“Yeah I did.” He smiled. “I love you, (Y/N). I have for a while but tonight just topped it all off for me. You stood up for my sister, you get along so well with my family and I just really love you.”

“And I love you, Dan.” I whispered, kissing him quick again.

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! it just turned midnight here in london when i’m posting this. i’m not going to post today since i will be with my family. but nope you guys have a great christmas!

[melasvera]

Painless. Fearless. Reckless. (Bendy x Reader) Part 2

A/N: Real quick. This is the set up chapter to get you to the studio, so bare with me please. You'll be at the studio next chapter.

Note, Ryan is supposed to be drunk, so I tried to make it seem like his speech is slurred. Devon has... some kind of accent. Devon is based off a friend of mine, and Real Life!Devon speaks like Fiction!Devon. RL!Devon has, like, some odd blend of a southern and Boston accent, I think. I don't think his accent can be classified. But I shouldn't talk. Apparently I have a French/British/Scottish accent, and I was born in Colorado!

Anyways!

Thank you to everyone whose liked and checked out this story!

Enjoy, and remember the story (should) picks up next chapter.

Chapter 1- Dare

It all began with a dare. A stupid dare made by stupid college kids at an equally as stupid party.

And you were just stupid enough to allow Ryan to take it.

You weren't even drunk! Why did you go along with it!?

Well, at least you weren't alone….

It was a Friday night when your roommate, Ryan, dragged you and your other roommate, Devon, to a party at some frat house. Usually you and Devon refused to go to such places, seeing as those type of things just weren't your scene. Plus, on those rare occasions when you did decide to go to out, it was almost a guarantee someone would make a lewd comment about you living with two dudes and they would usually always ask if they could ever join in.

It wasn't even like that! You trusted Ryan and Devon, loved them as brothers, and you knew them since elementary school. You all were just good friends who decided to live together to alleviate the cost of living as true adults.

Better to live together and suffer together then to suffer and struggle alone, was your logic.

And it was working out pretty well. The only downsides were Ryan's drinking and partying, Devon bringing home all types of bugs and plants, and your excessive buying of art supplies. At least Ryan didn't bring his vices home, Devon kept his stuff in his room, and you all made sure you could still help with the bills. Bills none of you truly had to worry about, due to your parents paying them, but still tried to help with nonetheless. None of you were comfortable being moochers.

That brings you to your current situation.

It had been a very stressful couple of weeks full of exams, working, and just general attempts at trying to be real adults. Ryan believed you all needed to relax, and what better why than to go to an end of exam party?

You and Devon just looked at each other, both thinking of several hundred things that would be more relaxing than a party, but in the end you both relented and got ready to go out, to the delight of your shaggy-haired friend.

It took less then ten minutes for you to get ready. You didn't care enough to change out of your outfit that consisted of a t-shirt, jeans, and an old pair of converses. Grabbing your favourite shoulder bag, you collected several items your father gave you the day you left for college; a can of police grade pepper spray, a pocket sized first aid kit, and a portable charger.

Once in you bag you looked around your room, debating if you needed anything else before you went to go wait by the door. Devon took twenty minutes longer than you, and the drive over was filled with idiots on the road, but eventually you and Devon begrudgingly walked behind Ryan into the frat house.

Crappy music was blaring, bodies were swaying, and alcohol was flowing.

Sweet heaven almighty, you could almost taste the hormones in the air.

Your eyes narrowed and you frowned as you briefly debated about going back to the car, not wanting to deal with so many alcohol, and maybe even drug, addled people. But you decided you made it this far, might as well go all the way, what did you have to lose?

Devon immediately hooked his arm around yours as you both dodge around the crowd, Ryan already lost within it (which was amazing because the dude was just over six feet), to find a semi-quiet spot. You both decided on the living room where a game of beer pong was being played. Together you sat by the fireplace, thankful that it wasn't on and that is was clear of both trash and people.

It took around five minutes of watching uncoordinated drunkards trying to toss a ball in a cup before someone offered you a drink and an eye wiggle.

Thankfully they left you alone after your first denial. Either those PSA's lied or you were just lucky, but you never were pressured into drinking or doing drugs. The only thing people tried to push you for was sex, and you weren't afraid to give those types of people you're two cents.

Devon sighed heavily, as the intoxicated man finally left you alone, pulled out a rubber band bound packet of note-cards from his hoodie jacket and handed you to them.

You huffed out a small laugh at what you guessed was vocabulary for one of his classes. Understanding what he wanted, and not wanting to drink and mingle, you began quizzing your friend. This gained you both some odd looks, but no one did anything about it. It was actually rather peaceful, once you got used to ignoring the noise.

It was after someone belly flopped on the beer pong table, over an hour later, breaking it that the people around you began a game of truth or dare. You thought it was all rather juvenile of them, but then again you didn't make a habit of going to parties, so maybe this was a normal frat party activity.

You and Devon both tried your best not to sneer in disgust at some of the dares, not wanting to catch the eye of a short tempered drunk looking for a fight. But, honestly, some of those dares were just….. did they seriously have no shame? There was a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and you should know seeing as you frequently flirted with that line. Besides, you were certain some of the things they were doing was illegal in several states.

The two of you continued to ignore the idiotic people close to you, hoping that no one would include you in someone's dare, when you heard Ryan's name being called. Devon and yourself looked over to see what your taller friend was doing.

A girl you didn't know was giggling and hanging off Ryan's arm, who didn't look as drunk as usually did this far into a party (aka he wasn't passed out, stumbling, or slurring words), and was loudly daring him.

"R~y~a~n!" The way she attempted to make her shitty, sing-song voice sound sexy made you shiver unpleasantly, "I-I dare you *giggles* I dare you t'go to….to Drew Studios. An' ya godda stream it too." The girl giggled, as if she said the most amusing thing in the entire world.

Ryan grinned, a look of pure determination taking over his face as the people around him agreed with the dare, egging him to take it.

Devon paled, you sighed heavily in resignation.

You knew that look. There was no way either you or Devon were ever going to deter him, but you didn't trust his drunk ass alone.

Devon quickly jumped to his feet, a worried look plastered on his face, and three shaky fingers in the air, "We volunteer as tribute!"

Apparently Devon didn't either.

You sighed again and stood, slipping the flashcards into Devon's back pocket. Guess you were going to try and keep your mildly drunk friend from dying in an abandoned studio in the middle of the woods.

Eh. You've done harder things before.

'Besides,' you thought as you eyed the young alcoholics in the making, 'this could work out for you.'

Without pause you stepped up onto the litter ridden couch and hollered to get everyone's attention. "HEY!"

Remarkably you got their attention and no one threw anything at you.

"If Ryan's going to do this dare," the idiots cheered and jostled each other with their back slapping, "we're going to need somethings so we don't get caught, and, or, so we don't die. And no one wants to be blamed for either of those, right?"

The people were either really drunk or really stupid to believe anything you said. Or both.

You were inclined to believe that it was probably both. Which was a good thing, seeing as they were more inclined to do as you said.

Then again, most people knew who your parents were, so maybe that motivated them?

"First, off, we need backpacks or bags, then we need gloves, at least fifty dollars, maybe some masks, some food, water bottles, flashlights, and that man's pocket knife!" You counted off each item with a raised finger then pointed with your sixth finger to a young man with an obvious lump in his pocket.

The young man blinked slowly and hesitantly pointed to himself, "Me?"

You nodded, still pointing. "Yes. You all want Ryan to get into Drew Studios, right? A knife will make it easier." Not really. You just wanted his knife. You've never seen the building outside of pictures your art teacher showed the class, but you were sure that there was someway to get inside without having to pick a lock.

Nobody moved. You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. "Well, you want a show or not? Get going!"

You stepped off the couch as the part of the crowd that wanted to see something illegal happen scrambled to gather the things you said you required, while the rest of them either tried to convince Pocket Knife Guy to hand over the knife or watched the chaos.

It was the girl who was hanging off Ryan who eventually persuaded the guy to give you the knife.

What she did to do that left you in awe and mild discomfort. That girl was either really drunk or really confident in herself, kind of inspiring, in a way.

Fiddling and got acquainted with your newly acquired weapon, which turned out to be a red Swiss Army knife with a yellow dog on it (fucking score! ), you waited next to your friends. Devon, in all of his four foot ten glory, was berating and trying to get Ryan to back out of the dare.

"Come on man! It'll be fun! Where's your sense of adventure! Think of the views dude . "

It wasn't working out so well.

Devon's eye twitched as he gave his deadpan answer, "Left 'em back home with Teresa."

"Your pet spider doesn't count, Short-stack."

"Think of the jail time."

"We have a kick-ass lawyer on our side if we get caught, we'll be fine."

The shorter one of your friends groaned and turned towards you, "[Name]! [Name], do somethin', talk 'im outta this craziness!"

Your shrugged as gently dragged your index finger down the largest blade of knife, unable to feel it kissing your skin, "Nah."

Devon sputtered, you grinned.

"N-nah, ya say? Fuckin' nah? The dude gonna get 'imself caught or somethin' an' all ya can say is 'nah'?" His incredulous tone of voice made your lips twitch in amusement.

Ryan laughed and slapped Devon's back, "Two 'gainst one, we win!"

Devon ignored him and looked at you in disbelief, waiting for your answer.

You snapped the knife back into it's home and clenched your fist around the four inch handle. With a smile you looked at your worried friend with a small reassuring smile, "We volunteered as tribute."

"B-but, [Name]!" Devon whines as he floundered to try to think of something that would make you convince Ryan to back out.

"B'sides," your shrug, placing the knife into your bag, "can't make Drunk Ryan do anything he doesn't want to," here said drunk young man began nodding in agreement, "might as well tag along and make sure the drunken dumb-ass doesn't do anything to illegal or off himself in some stupid way."

Ryan kept nodding for a few more seconds before what you said hit is alcohol soaked mind, "Wha- Hey!"

Devon snorted, a smile fighting its way onto his still worried face.

"And you can go home, or stay in the car or something if you really don't want to go. I'm can handle him, we won't make you."

Devon laughed hysterically, and sarcastically, at that.

"Yeah, no," he finally said with a look of pure incredibility, "leave my drunk friend with zero inhibition with the friend who woulda know what danger was if it punched her in the kisser, I'mma not livin' with that kind'a guilt, m'kay?"

Ryan swung an arm around the both of you, pulling you two into a three way hug, "Great! Now I need help coming up with a YouTube name."

It was official then. The three of you were going to break into an abandoned animation studio from the twenties and live-stream the proof to a YouTube channel that Ryan made as you and Devon argued. All for a dare.

It was decided, with no real input from you or Devon, that the channel's name would be DrewStudiosLive.

…...

Drunk Ryan wasn't a very imaginative Ryan.

Throughout your conversation, and about fifteen minutes after, all the items you requested had be collected, plus some.

Apparently the host of the party were very generous when intoxicated.

The items were all in a pile before you, consisting of an ugly neon green drawstring bag, an old soccer duffel bag, six mismatched winter gloves in varies colours and sizes, a butt load of washcloths, some bandannas, some left over, half full, bags of chips, water bottles, a pack of canned beers, and a plastic baggie with cash (fucking yes, they did it!). In lieu of a flashlight someone was smart enough, or drunk enough, to throw in a tub of glow sticks. On top of all that some smart-ass donated a small first aid and condoms with a note that said, 'have fu die :P' on it.

Your rolled your eyes at the last item and threw the condoms up into the air so they fell into the crowd. You heard a few cheers at that.

Turning back to the small pile you happily divided you're haul between the duffel, drawstring, and your own shoulder bag. You palmed the first aid kit, wondering if you should be the one to carry it, before placing it in the duffel and with the beers. Meanwhile, Ryan wrote the name of the new YouTube channel down so that people knew where to tune in, and Devon left to get the car ready, bemoaning his fate the entire time.

You and Ryan left the house with people cheering you on, wishing you luck, and throwing more glow sticks in the air, like people used to throw rice at weddings.

The laughter bubbling in your chest couldn't be stopped, even once your were in the car and on your way to the studio. You just couldn't believe that you got a houseful of your drunken peers to give you stuff all because you said you'd need it to complete some stupid dare. You continued to chuckled to yourself as you counted the money they collected. Maybe you should go out to parties with Ryan more often, who knows what you could convince people to give you if you said it was for their entertainment.

"Sooooo….." Devon drawled, not taking his eyes off the road, "what do we need fifty dollars for? It's not that far, so it's not for gas."

Snickering you answered, "We don't need it." You waved the bag of money around, "This is merely….. a…... donation. A wish for good luck."

Quite, then Devon snorted and briefly looked in the rear view mirror at you. "You just wanted their money, didn'tcha?"

You nodded once with a giant smile on your face, "I just wanted their money. And the knife. Got me a pretty sweet knife. I think it has, like, ten functions, at least." You looked back down at the money, the smile growing into a smirk, "They did good. Got more than fifty here. After this is over with we're eating out someplace that's not Jack in the Box."

This time it was Ryan who spoke, who had been silent until now because he found the beer in the duffel. "'ow much yo-you got there?" He ended with a burp, which he blew into the driver's face. Devon wrinkled his nose but otherwise didn't react.

Humming happily, and placing the cash into your bag, "Almost eighty. And stop it, save those for later!"

Groaning in disappointment, Ryan tilted his head back to chug the rest of his drink before crushing the can and tossing it on the floor.

"Ei-eighty bucks?" Devon threw his head back and cackled at that, then continued to grumble about how maybe the night wasn't so bad after all.

A/N: Make sure you tell me what you think, what I should improve on and what not.

Thanks again!

Part 1

[daemonluna]

Dream Daddy fanfic: “Love Alters Not”

Mary and Joseph have four children under the age of ten, the accumulated grief and misunderstandings of twelve years of marriage, and a basic inability to communicate. In which Youtube, apology cookies, and the capybara incident add up to salvation. Crossposted to AO3.

They got married too young. Joseph was nineteen going on twenty, and Mary was twenty-two. Mary was pregnant. They'd gotten married on the beach at sunset, barefoot and giddy. Mary had hibiscus flowers in her hair. Joseph's lips had tasted of tequila and salt when they kissed.

Baby Kristin was stillborn three months after the wedding. It had rocked them like a natural disaster, unpredictable and unexpected. Mary had felt like she was playing house, sitting in a tidy little kitchen with shiny new plates and bowls and a margarita maker, everything they'd picked out for their wedding registry on a whim. Then a sudden lurching jolt skewed them sideways into the adult world, a blur marked off in increments by blood on the bathroom floor, bed rest, then a second pregnancy and a third, prenatal vitamins followed by endless diaper changes, loads of laundry, and pureed banana and applesauce on the kitchen walls.

They never named the baby Mary lost in between the twins and Crish. She was only eighteen weeks along. She told Joseph once, during one of their worst fights, that she'd lost her faith in God the morning she realized she'd stopped feeling those little, fluttering kicks. The baby had been the size of a green pepper. It was a Monday. The ultrasound appointment where they were supposed to find out the gender was on Wednesday. Instead, she had stared blankly at the ceiling while the technician tried to find a heartbeat.

Really, her faith had faded gradually, ground down by church politics, and a marriage strained by too many competing forces. It was her relationship with Joseph that had frayed from that point. Every time he buried himself in his work. Every time someone from his congregation told her that losing her baby had been God's will. She's not sure what she believes these days.

Mary knows she drinks too much. Joseph had loved her free spirit, he'd said, when they first started dating. They'd been young, and reckless, and partied hard. But after Chris was born, it was like a switch had been flipped. They had become parents, and there were a whole new set of impossible expectations and rules to follow. Now, they have four children under the age of ten.

Mary feels like she's been pregnant for the last twelve years, even though she knows it's not literally true. She loves her kids, fiercely and immensely, but sometimes she is just desperately sick of the demanding little fuckers. It's like her entire identity has been reduced down to The Bad Mom.

She gets the kids up in the morning, packs lunches for the older kids and for Joseph, drops everyone off at school, vacuums and tidies while Crish clings to her needily like a little spider monkey. She picks up the kids, administers snacks, corrals them into homework, feeds everyone supper, and wrangles the four of them through baths and their bedtime routine. About three or four nights out of seven, she looks at the laundry, the dishes, and the back of her husband's head as he preps Bible studies and youth group lessons, and feels the house close in around her. Only then does she text Robert, and head out to the bar.

Ironically, she and Robert only started hanging out because he'd fucked her husband, after her miscarriage. They are all horrible people.

She knows that Joseph dealt with his grief by sleeping around. Her husband is a huge slut, and it's one of the things she loves about him. They used to have an understanding about hooking up--it was okay solo as long as he called to ask permission first, and gave her a play by play afterwards. Mary thought idly about invoking their agreement for Chris's grade one teacher a few years back. That woman was smoking hot, and clearly not getting any satisfaction at home. She planned out an elaborate campaign of seduction in her head, but at the end of the day, it all just seemed like too much work to go through with it.

Mary picks her targets carefully at the bar. She's pretty sure Joseph thinks she's sleeping with someone new every night, and meanly doesn't abuse him of the notion, taking that hangdog, reproachful look when she gets home as her due. She'll never tell him what is happening, though. Inevitably she will get sloppy-drunk, and spend the next hour telling the guy across from her at great length about every dog at the shelter. She can't help it--it's deflect with dogs, stay silent like she does at home, or let all her messy secrets come spilling out. To date, she's negotiated eight bar stool pet adoptions that have actually come through the next day.

On better nights, she hangs with Robert, and they gossip fiercely and ferociously. She feels guilty sometimes that she only shares the worst of Joseph with him, but then she has another drink and it passes. She and Robert became drinking buddies after he sat down beside her at the bar one night years ago, and told her that Joseph was sleeping around. She'd laughed in his face, and bought him shots until the two of them ended up staggering down to the beach together, Mary belting out sea shanties while Robert told her all about sea monster cryptids. Robert's got his own heavy share of regret and angst, but at least the two of them can meet up at the bar and bond over Long Haul Ice Road Paranormal Ghost Truckers. Joseph won't watch it because it's too scary for him, the chickenshit. Christie has decided that she wants to be a ghost trucker when she grows up. Christian wants to be a ghost truck.

When she gets back, Joseph is usually sitting on the couch, reading the bible, the sanctimonious prick. For the last three months, he's quietly packed up and headed down to the yacht to sleep. Mary hates the yacht. She hates that he has an escape to go to that's all his, and that he's going without her. They had a.... conversation about it a few months ago. He'd talked to her like he was counselling one his parishioners, and she'd bitten back every horrible, messy thing she wanted to say. Mary thinks her marriage might be over, and the thought makes her furious.

Once a week after supper, she leaves the kids with their father, who gets to be the fun dad, and heads out to her volunteer shift at the animal shelter. She started volunteering at the shelter out of spite. Joseph had been after her to get out of the house a bit and volunteer, and assumed she'd do something with the church. Sunday school, or shit like that. So she'd picked something totally unrelated to any of the church's charity missions and drives, more or less at random.

She wants to believe that Joseph suggested it to make himself look better, with the perfect pastor's wife doing pastor's wife things. She might have said that to him. Just maybe. In the heat of the moment. If she's honest with herself though, she knows he was worried about her. It had been in the six months after she'd lost the baby, their fragile little unnamed hope, and she'd been sleepwalking through the days in a thick, smothering fog of grief. They had both pretended that there hadn't been a heartbreaking look of relief on his face whenever she dragged herself off the couch to her weekly shift at the shelter.

Damien is her Tuesday night shelter buddy. A month after Lucien's mother had left him, Mary had gotten fed up with the careful conversations and the brittle look on his face, and sat in his driveway in the car, leaning on the horn until he came outside and agreed to come with her. Puppies make everything better, and she's been looking out for Damien since middle school.

And of course Joseph has all the time in the world for the new neighbour down the street, and of course they need to throw a welcome barbecue for the whole block. Because Mary has all the time in the world to make potato salad.

Mary knows she's a bad mother. She knows Joseph judges her for it, and can't help but bait him. After thirteen years together, she and Joseph know how to push all of each other's buttons. The baby? She has no idea where Crish is, she tells Joseph, even though she had passed the sleepy toddler over to an awestruck Lucien not ten minutes before.

Damien's been reading up on Victorian child-rearing practices, to reassure himself that he isn't duplicating the worst of his beloved time period. Mary suspects Lucien's recent (brilliant) stunt with the brick wall has something to do with it. Damien has told her at great lengths while cleaning cages last week about how upper-class Victorian parents would only see their children for a few minutes a day, presented before dinner by the nanny, and how this fed into the concept of a new baby as a "little stranger" in the household. He decided that Lucien needs to be comfortable with small children to encourage his nurturing side, and has signed him up for a babysitting class. Lucien is hilariously terrified of babies, and could use some supervised practice with a toddler. Mary thinks the Victorian method has some merits, and has started daydreaming about having a nanny.

The twins? She taped over Veggietales with The Shining, she says flippantly.

Joseph keeps leaving his laptop on the coffee table. Two weeks ago, Chris had learned how to search the internet, and had obligingly, painstakingly, typed "t-w-i-n" into Youtube for his younger siblings. (Thirty seconds, she takes her eyes off them, while Crish is throwing a tantrum because he wants to wear his footie flannel pajamas in August, but they're too hot, and he wants them to be cooler, and they make him itch, but it must be THOSE pajamas, and why can't she make it better because Mom is supposed to fix everything... and the older kids are into new and exciting chaos.) They've been fascinated with that damn scene ever since. Stephen King has a lot to answer for.

Mary confessed to Robert last night that she put it on repeat for them before supper so that she could get one more load of laundry done--Crish's potty-training exploits are not going well this week. Robert had thought that was hilarious, the fucker.

She'd meant to start the laundry before supper, but Crish had been clingy and fussy, and she'd lain down with him on the couch for just a minute. He'd snuggled in, flushed and damp from crying, and the warm weight of him had lulled her to sleep. She thought they'd made it through the potential hell of sleep regressions, but apparently, a two-year old sleep regression could be a Thing, and it's been disrupting the whole household lately. Mary does not have words to say how much she resents Joseph for leaving her on her own right now, no matter what's going on between the two of them.

An hour later, the phone had woken her, the school calling to get her permission for Craig to drive the kids home with his twins, since she'd been so late picking them up. He'd said he hadn't minded, but had been harried and distracted when he dropped them off. Chris told her proudly that he'd bitten Hazel because of what she said about Christian, but then Briar bit back, and Christie was going to get revenge. Mary started grimly baking apology cookies, but then the twins ate half of them in one sitting and both promptly threw up all over the living room, and Joseph swooped in, and took the other half to give to the new neighbours.

That was the point at which Mary threw the spatula at him, and told him he could bake his own damn cookies for the church bake sale. Okay, she might have screamed it. And she should regret it, but she really doesn't.

He had made brownies. With the kids. And left a disaster behind in the kitchen. Fun dad.

She'll find out what the twins meant by revenge next week, when she gets an awkward phone call from Craig about the capybara incident, and seriously start to wonder what else the kids found on Youtube in the approximately seven and a half minutes they were on the computer unsupervised. Joseph will install a deadbolt on the top of the back gate. Chris will figure out a way around it in twenty-three seconds.

Chris is having trouble with the other kids at school. He just can't to seem to pick up the knack of making friends, and keeps getting into fights. Some of it has to do with Christian and Christina's creepy twin routine. He's been sullen and withdrawn at home, too, and his teacher wants to talk. The twins have always bounced from one obsession to the next, with a scary amount of focus. And then in the next minute, they're all over the place, and won't settle down to a single solitary thing. Lately, they've started wandering from the yard into the woods at the bottom of the garden, which drives her nuts.

Her children have always seemed to have a harder time than everyone else's. Chris has always lagged behind the other kids his age, and doesn't follow directions well. Mary wants to believe that he's inherited her anti-authoritarian streak, but truly knows that he needs things broken down into smaller steps. He does fine at home because they all know how to deal, but there are too many distractions at school. The twins are powered by jet fuel and have never really gotten the hang of sleeping. Crish is a little bundle of sunshine, but Mary lives in dread of finding out some new and exciting issue that they haven't yet experienced with the other three.

Mary knows it's her fault. She drank when she was pregnant--before she knew she was pregnant. She may have lost her faith, but guilt is a habit that's harder to kick. Her kids, her flawed and precious and struggling kids, have borne the brunt of her sins. She hates herself for thinking it, but even though she still mourns both of the babies she lost, she's glad she never got a chance to ruin their lives, too.

Even when they get the dual diagnoses of autism for Chris and ADHD for the twins, a year from now, she will still blame herself. It will be another eight months before she makes a glib remark in the occupational therapist's office, who will give her a long, searching look, shut the door and compassionately and clinically take her through the statistical odds and causes, disassemble the notion that blame has anything to do with it, and silently hand her a box of Kleenex as she dissolves into wracking sobs. It will be six months more in therapy past that point before she shares her years-long fears and self-blame with Joseph, and will mark a turning point in their relationship.

Joseph loves his kids, and is adamant that there's nothing wrong with them. It will take him a while to understand that no-one is criticizing his children for needing help to navigate a world that wasn't designed to accommodate them. That the language of Individualized Education Plans in the classroom, ADHD meds (Mary's exact words in response are "just make sure you give my kids the good shit, doc,") and occupational and behavioural therapy, is a means to an end, and one that for all its flaws, is supposed to be an improvement and a help, and not a punishment. He and Mary start to make more progress advocating for their kids once he puts his considerable charisma to working the system instead of railing against it, after Mary realizes what's going on in his occasionally dense pretty little head, and knocks some sense into him. But that's still several years away.

Right now, she is furious with her husband, but she still loves him. She knows that he looks at her and sees a failure, and a problem to be fixed, and her bitchy, miserable worst self to be avoided. She'd give the world if he just, for a single second, stopped trying to fix things and trying to prove something by being holier than thou, and running away from the problems they should be sharing. She wants to curl up beside him on the couch, tuck her cold toes under his thigh, and mock late-night cable movies together. She wants to put her head in his lap, and share the silence, instead of letting it destroy the two of them.

If he asked her how she was, and waited for a real answer, and admitted that being a good parent and a good partner was fucking hard work some days. If he gave her any indication that he saw her, Mary, not the mother who was failed her children, or the wife he expected that she could never live up to, or the sharp-tongued drunk that she couldn't help but be. Just Mary, who loves dogs, and her kids, and Joseph, and wants to be a better person, but can't do it all alone.

*

Joseph doesn't know why Mary is so angry all the time. He tries and he tries, to be a good husband and father. To be the provider. To be a good Christian. He says yes to everyone, again and again and again. He tried to be selfless, but with every little piece of himself that he offers up to prove his worth, she seems to hate him more and more.

Maybe they got married too young. Sure, Mary was pregnant, but more than that, they were happy together. She was radiant on their wedding day, hair loose around her face. He could smell her coconut sunscreen and feel the warmth of her skin through the light cotton dress she wore, his hand at the small of her back as they kissed. He thought they made a good team--they've always fed off each other's energy and magnified the other. Unfortunately, this has also proved true in the bad times as well as the good.

Anyone who knew him pre-kids would tell you he's always been a bit of a flirt. He likes making people happy, and if he's honest with himself, he'll admit that he likes the ego boost of being wanted. In their younger, wilder years, they'd sometimes pick up a third at the bar. Joseph would usually pull them in, and Mary would orchestrate the whole encounter. The two of them would send the latest bright young thing on their way in the morning, happily well-fucked, plied with coffee, and fed with Joseph's famous blueberry pancakes.

For the longest time post-kids they were both too tired for anything more than late-night fumblings on the couch and Sunday morning quickies in the shower, let alone involving anyone else. And now, he worries more about what other people think than he did ever before. Some days, he hates himself for it. Other days, he hates that he put himself in a position where he needs to be respectable.

When Mary lost the second baby, she pulled in tight on herself, lost in an impenetrable bubble of misery. That's when they really stopped talking, and when he thinks he started to lose Mary too. Joseph threw himself into work, into the church, into romance novels. He's always been a sucker for a happy ending.

And then he threw himself at Robert for a bit. He doesn't regret the fling--the sex was fantastic--but he does regret how he ended it, by just ghosting the poor guy and never calling. He'd still like to apologize one of these days, but that ship has long since sailed.

He dreams about walking away from it all. He knows he never really could. He dreams about being someone else, with no responsibilities or connections.

He has nightmares about losing the children, in shopping malls, and on hiking trails in the ravine, swept away to sea. Sometimes they've been replaced, with perfect little soulless copies, his loud, messy, beautiful, chaotic children. Sometimes it's something else wearing their faces, blank dead eyes looking back at him. He blames the twins' damn horror movie obsession for this newest variation. He's never liked horror movies--he and Damien are united on that front, and Mary's been inflicting them on the two of them for years.

He has nightmares about losing Mary, too. She's drowning, or sinking in quicksand, or drifting away from him on the tide with her hair floating around her like seaweed and her face impassively blank and unnaturally calm.

Mary has always been clever, and quick witted. He's been trying to keep up with her since the first time he asked her to dance, at a beach party in Cancun. He was working as a waiter for the summer. She was bar-tending. Her wit has always skipped ahead of him. Now, she uses it to wound, and deflect.

Part of the reason he leaves is because he knows Mary won't drink if she's alone with the kids. He can't stop her altogether from disappearing into a bottle of wine, sitting in the kitchen with the lights off after the kids go to bed. She gets louder at first, sharp and abrasive. Then as the bottle empties, she gets quieter, icy-cold and a million miles away. He wants to keep her here, tethered to the earth with him, safe and warm. He wants to wrap her up in one of his grandmother's quilts, and make her hot chocolate, and rub her feet.

He's been sleeping on the yacht lately. It started as a stupid, passive-aggressive move. Partly, it was so Mary will come home at night to stay with the kids. He hasn't known in months who she's sleeping with and what she's doing. She's always been the more adventurous, daring one, but lately she's had a fatalistic, reckless streak that scares him right down to the bone. When she's gone, he pours himself a glass of wine and camps out on the couch until she comes home, distracting himself with a bodice-ripper mystery tucked into the cover of his study bible.

Partly, it was a desperately selfish move to pretend he's someone else, and escape everything he's failing at home.

He'd tried to ask Mary what was wrong, and how to make things right, but he'd gotten all tangled up in his own justifications. Mary had been icily distant, and he'd retreated into politeness. He thinks their marriage might be over, and it just breaks his heart.

He loves his children, and God help him, he still loves his wife. Even if she hates him for every time he's failed her, even if she looks at him like a stranger, and even if he can't hold together all the pieces of the life they should have. All it would take is for her to trust him and tell him what she's really thinking, and let him be her partner again--in bed, in crime, in parenting, in life.

He's always been genuinely interested in other people. It's part of why he really does like being a pastor. Mary compares him to an overgrown puppy sometimes, although he'd like to think he has a bit more dignity and discernment than that. He likes meeting new people, though. He takes cookies to the new neighbours, and plans a welcome barbeque, and hangs out with the new guy in the neighbourhood. It's the friendly thing to do.

Joseph is tempted by the boy next door. It's not just the idle lust, but the offer of companionship. He remembers what it's like to truly have a partner, and feels like he's the closest to adultery he's ever been, no matter how many people he's slept with.

But he is going to come home one night very soon, and find Mary sitting by the phone, tears streaming down her face. His heart will stop for a second, until he realizes she's laughing so hard she can't breathe. The story comes out in fits and starts. The twins have been running an elaborate revenge scheme against Craig's girls, who said something unkind about Chris, culminating in a kidnapping and dissection. For a second, he thinks she means Craig's baby, but Mary chokes out the word "capybara," and he remembers the stuffed animal. It starts with an undignified series of giggles, and ends with the two of them sitting on the floor, leaning against each other.

Mary is warm against him, and her hair smells like coconut shampoo, just like the girl he married so many years ago. She reaches up, and pulls a bottle of wine off the counter. She passes him the bottle first. They progress from wine to margaritas, to tearful confessions, followed by some drunken making out on the couch before they both pass out for the night.

It's a stupid thing to be a tipping point, but that poor capybara just might have saved their marriage.

Joseph is going to struggle with his faith, and with his service to the church over the next few years. At the end of the day, he will come to terms with the two. He's always been an idealist, but he needs to realize that a church is made up of people, in all their flawed and human glory. He can't be perfect for them, he can't give everyone everything, and he doesn't need to. He will take a step back, and take some time for himself and his family. Joseph is going to learn to care a little bit less about what other people think, and a little bit more about how to listen to what the people he loves really want, and not just what he thinks they needs.

And really, he will let go of the idea at the back of his head that he isn't the kind of guy who becomes a youth pastor. He's not the same person he was when he was twenty, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. He loves his job, and there is no shame in that.

Mary and Joseph will make a series of choices, large and small, to change and to lean into each other instead of away. Once they start talking again, it's hard to stop. It takes months and years to build a marriage, and everything that's broken can't be fixed over night. But Mary is sharp, and clever, and fiercely protective of what she loves. And Joseph is warm-hearted and wants to make the world a better place. They need each other's best selves, some space for the two of them, and the time and energy to fuck around a little bit. And they're going to find it. Together.

Disclaimer: All of my experience with parenting a) at all, and b) of a kid who's autistic or ADHD is second hand and vicarious through friends. I hope I have done them and their kids justice. All my parent friends, I salute you.

[ingridgovaninsights]

The Charlotte Chapters- Part 4

I think things can get quite complicated when two close friends decide to “get friendly” with one another. But with the current state of my mind, nothing really mattered. The technicalities of things, the minor details, could be figured out some other day. Or never. What mattered was the moment, and as long as it felt good, it was approved by me.

Elliott and I did a bunch of crazy things together. I hastily gave up my apartment and took to living mostly on the road, occasionally crashing at the cute cottage or at random hotels in various cities. They weren’t the nicest of places- sometimes the room hadn’t been cleaned or it reeked of cigarette smoke. But hey, if you’re going to be staying in hotels so often and you don’t have the money… beggars can’t really be choosers.

Many people would probably ask me how did I have the money for all of this? Hotel rooms really add up, and if you’re always buying dinners at restaurants… Well, I sold a bunch of items I had lying around- retro gaming consoles I never used, trading cards from childhood… really sentimental things, but nothing practical. But since I was feeling reckless, I sold it all for money so I could do more reckless things. When I think about it now, I really miss hoarding those useless things- they brought me a lot of good memories. But I was able to sell them and make plenty of money so I didn’t have to work… because it’s so great to have a large gap in your work history.

Elliott, on the other hand, did some odd jobs. He did yard work for people, or fixed their cars. One day, he brought something up to me that I thought could be quite interesting.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, I had a way we could make even more money, on our own schedules,” he said as we were pulling up to a random Motel 6.

I was just finishing off my last Tim Hortons coffee. I needed three or four doses of caffeine to feel even slightly awake, so as odd as it sounds I just started buying a tray of them and drinking them back to back. Ever since Ross and I split, I was not all there. It was a strange feeling- I felt as if I was dreaming half of the time (and to this day some of the memories are still quite foggy). It felt like everyone was speaking to me through a tunnel, and all of my senses were dulled. I believe it’s called disassociation. That is why I needed to do crazy things- only a few things now would make me feel “alive”.

“Well, if it makes us more money I’d love to hear it,” I said.

“Okay. I’m not speaking hypothetically anymore then,” Elliott said. “So a dude from school that I know has connections to a few people that can help us.”

“Help us in what way?” I asked.

Elliott laughed nervously. “Okay… so don’t freak out. But they can get us selling weed.”

I wasn’t freaking out at all. Nothing freaked me out anymore. I mean, I’d never sold any sort of drugs before, but what was the big deal? It was probably going to be legal in a couple of years, anyways. Besides, there were harsher drugs we could be selling.

I shrugged. “Sure. We should meet with them to discuss it.”

“If you’re sure,” Elliott said. “I guess we can meet with them tonight.”

***

Looking back on it now, we were meeting with some really sketchy characters. Elliott and I pulled up into the parking lot of an abandoned building, and we saw four middle aged people on motorcycles. One woman and three men. They looked like a very stereotypical “biker gang”- leather jackets, ripped jeans, black boots, sunglasses. The one woman had stringy grey hair all the way down past her bum. How did she not get it all tangled and in her face when riding that motorcycle? That kind of thing would drive me crazy.

“Hey, fellas!” The woman cried out, and I could tell she was a little slow. We had already gotten out of the car and we weren’t standing far away. It’s like she didn’t know how to control her volume. She waved frantically.

Elliott and I exchanged a glance, then we approached them. It was such a strange experience- to have the complete absence of any real fear. It’s like the whole trauma of the breakup had cured my anxiety. Or maybe I was just numb to the point of being reckless. Before Ross and I were done, I never would have thought about selling weed, driving all around the province or getting drunk on weekdays. I had fleeting thoughts about trying maybe weed, but that was as far as that went. I was the type to stay in on a Friday night, watching movies or reading a book.

“I’m Sidney,” the wild-looking woman said to us. “You can just call me Sid, though.”

She extended a gloved hand for us to shake. I boldly extended mine and shook firmly. Sid had the grip of a man. She looked at me with a smirk. I could guess what she was thinking- what was a young woman like me doing here with these people? Any reasonable person would wonder that. I looked so “pure”- natural wavy brown hair, falling down just past my shoulders; freckles sprinkled all across my cheeks and nose; no makeup whatsoever; I wore a modest long-sleeved shirt with absolutely no cleavage, unlike many women my age, and regular blue skinny jeans. Whoever she had imagined would show up today, I sure wasn’t that girl.

And I think she wondered the same things about Elliott- he always looked so clean cut, after all. Today he sported a nicely fitted blue dress shirt and black jeans, no rips. It was a trend these days to have jeans with rips, but Elliott never jumped on board with that. So we we likely weren’t their typical acquaintances. So what? We were thirsty for money and excitement. Was that so wrong with that?

“I’m Elliott,” Elliott said gruffly, “and this is my friend, Charlotte.”

Elliott always used the term friend when he brought me up in conversation or introduced me, but to be honest we’d been acting a little less platonically lately. After the night at Elliott’s cottage, things were slightly out of sorts. In my head I told myself I’d amount it to nothing more than a drunken night, but the next day we both weren’t acting the same at all.

I recall we were driving around aimlessly- we never had an exact destination in mind- and Elliott reached for my hand. It made me feel a little odd, but I held on. He swirled his thumb around the top of my hand, and I just… I felt so strange. I was happy, though, which surprised me. We blasted some music through his BlueTooth radio, each sharing various songs that meant something to us or told a good story. We loved songs for their lyrics.

When I played him a song called “Fuzzy Blue Lights” by Owl City, he squeezed my hand and smiled.

If I was standing on the balcony

And you were walking down below

I’d feel rather depressed and out of place

And lonely just to watch you go

If you were swinging from the highway overpass

Within the western hemisphere

I’d feel rather afraid and insincere

If you began to disappear

We always quietly shared songs like that with one another as a way of expressing ourselves. I loved sharing those moments with him, and it was really emotional for me, at least.

“So? Are you ready to hear the details?” Sid jolted me from my daydreaming.

That was when I asked a rather uncalled for question.

“Can I take a ride on your bike?”

***

Sid wasn’t shocked by my question in the slightest, as if she got asked that a lot. She flipped her brittle grey hair over her shoulder and shrugged.

“Yeah sure, why not? Hop on.”

I sat down behind her, and awkwardly didn’t know what to do with my hands. As if Sid read my mind, she said, “put your arms around my waist!”

Sid slid her helmet on, and then she stared at me. Surely she didn’t want to risk getting into trouble because I wasn’t properly equipped for the ride. She turned to her friend, an extremely tall, scrappy looking man probably in his mid-forties. With his “biker gear” on he looked menacing, probably well over six feet. He had a shaved head and a full red beard, tattoos on both his hands and another one poking out of his shirt. They seemed to be the classic “scary looking people”, the kind your mother would hold your hand for when passing by.

The man had just been pacing back and forth. I originally thought he was just impatient to get the business going, but something was really bothering him. His facial expression was really tight and stressed, and he was muttering under his breath.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” he said to no one in particular.

Sid didn’t seem surprised by the man’s behaviour. She held out her hand to him. “Hey, Rob, can this young lady borrow your helmet for a quick spin?”

I’m going to borrow his helmet?! I thought in disbelief. That surely won’t fit!

But Rob wasn’t listening. He continued to pace, growing angrier.

“Fuck you!” he suddenly shouted, throwing his fists around in the air.

Sid remained calm. “Rob, could we borrow your helmet, please?”

One of the other men gently tapped Rob’s shoulder. Rob startled as if suddenly awoken from a deep sleep. He looked flustered for a moment, then finally handed Sid the helmet.

Elliott gave me a look as if to say, What the fuck are we even doing right now? And I agreed, but I didn’t care much. I just wanted to ride this goddamn motorcycle.

Before I even had a chance to finish putting on my oversized helmet, we were speeding out of the parking lot. We turned onto the old country road and luckily there were no other vehicles to be seen, because Sid was definitely breaking the speed limit by far.

But it was glorious. Elliott and I had driven pretty fast in his cars before, but something about riding a motorcycle was freeing. Having the wind rushing through your hair and slapping your face was refreshing. And it felt dangerous. We were so exposed. I loved every minute of it.

“I didn’t take you for the adventurous type!” Sid yelled over the wind and the motor. “You don’t even know me; I could take you somewhere to kill ya, or drive us off a cliff for all you know!”

Sid clearly didn’t get it. “That’s what makes it so thrilling,” I said.

***

There’s this phenomenon called “Call of the Void”, or as they call it in French, “L’appel du Vide”. Essentially it is talking about the intense urge to do something self-destructive, the intrusive thoughts you might have. It’s like something dark is calling out to you for some unknown reason to go jump off a cliff or swerve into oncoming traffic.

I remember Elliott sharing this term with me one day; in fact, the first day I tried weed. I think he had this on the brain a lot, because he worried about me. He considered my behaviour to be “self-destructive”. And I suppose it was. At the time, I didn’t give a shit. All I knew was that weed gave me the kind of high I needed to feel okay temporarily, and that was just one of a few things I did to get by- drinking, crazy long road trips, trespassing, speeding on a motorcycle. Hey, if it doesn’t kill you, right?

But “Call of the Void” speaks to me so much. It really did put a name to what was happening. These destructive habits are a temporary fix, and looking back now I’m really glad that I didn’t turn it into a permanent one.

Elliott and I were sitting in a field, halfway across the province, way at the end of a dirt road. It was probably one or two in the morning. We each had a joint between our fingers, Elliott had his arm around me. Elliott had tried weed before- he had done so in high school, and didn’t mind it but he had to be careful because sometimes it made him go a little psychotic. He warned that it could do that to people with a predisposition to mental illness.

I was slightly drunk. I was drinking some sort of fruity cooler, which was lukewarm after sitting in Elliott’s trunk all afternoon. After all, we never did stay in one place for too long. We had made a fair amount of money selling weed, but Elliott was the voice of reason between us. He tried to sway me from the idea.

“Hey, Char,” he said, his voice quiet, relaxed. “I know this business is pretty good money, but we can’t keep doing this forever, you know? Don’t you think at some point we should try to find jobs, earn money in an honest way?”

I looked at him. It had been about fifteen minutes since I first tried the joint, and things seemed to be slowing down. I don’t think Elliott had actually spoken that slowly, but it took me a moment to process it.

“Perhaps,” I said, “but I would like to know something first.”

“What’s that?”

“What is going on… between us.”

Not only was I starting to get high, I was also feeling the effects of my drinking. My head sort of swayed from side to side. I felt really nice, like I could chat about anything and it would just be a lovely time. Like I could be honest, like I had no worries, like nothing at all mattered.

Elliott seemed to think about that. He took another puff. “Charlotte, you know how I feel about you,” he said.

“Tell me,” I said.

“I really really like you,” he said, leaning in to kiss me.

I started to laugh. “Really? Why? I don’t really understand it, you know? Like I’m so weird, and I’m so messed up. Everything in my life has gone to shit.”

“I think I just have a thing for damaged goods,” he told me, and we kissed.

***

Things never stayed the same. After all, humans are always changing, whether we like it or not. And some things have to change more urgently than others. Did I really expect to be living on the road, drunk and high, for the rest of my sad life?

One random night, Ross sent me a text. It was fairly to the point-

Hey. I’m not sure if you still have my number, or if you even want to talk to me, but it’s Ross. I think we need to talk. Can you let me know a time that works for you?

I felt my stomach do a back flip. What did it mean? Was he just there to chew me out some more about things I never did because he was bored? Or was he trying to get me back?

We were at a hotel at the time. Elliott had just stepped out of the shower. He saw me sitting, frozen, at the end of the bed.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

I couldn’t speak, so I just showed him the message. Elliott was silent then, too. I’m sure he had a lot to think about, as did I.

My friends and family would have told me there was nothing to think about. It’s over, it’s been over for months now- it had been three long months- and he was a jerk. I shouldn’t go running back, they’d say. I’ll regret it, they’d say.

But Elliott knew this was something I would consider, because he knew me quite well. He probably knew me better than anyone.

So we sat in silence for probably half an hour, the only noise being the distant whir of cars passing by outside. I finally stood up, paced back and forth a couple times, then started to type a response-

Let’s meet tomorrow afternoon.

When I showed Elliott I sent the text, he looked slightly shocked, and not a lot of things shock him. What did he expect? I was weak and fragile, and easily manipulated.

“Guess I’m driving you home,” he mumbled.

[babylon-bitch]

Surprise ~ Just Friends (part 37)

Harper White is best friends with Luke Hemmings, they always have been. Not only is she friends with the rockstar, but with the rest of 5 Seconds Of Summer, as well as a really nice girl named Erika.

Harper has a few secrets, she can play all the instruments the boys play and many more. It’s a talent she has kept hidden, only very few people know.

What will happen to the six teens, wondering around the world together?

Warnings: mentions of self harm and depression, language, and overwhelming fluff

***

I’ve passed my driving test on the first try and now I’m officially road legal. It went really smoothly, didn’t mess up one time, and when I came home I took everyone out for a drive and they said that I was a good driver. All of my immediate family passed their driving test on the first try, so I’m proud to say I kept up that tradition. My grandpa took about 4 attempts, he is an absolute shit driver, he focuses on what’s out the window rather than the road.

It was Ashton’s birthday the other week so we all went out for a couple drinks, it wasn’t a full on night out. We went out to a bar, then came home and had a bonfire whilst drinking some more alcohol. It was very chill, and I liked that. We all have a rule that we don’t get each other gifts, of course if someone got them something we won’t turn it down, but we usually don’t get each other anything. We bought Ashton some shots in return.

Luke’s birthday is coming up soon and I’m trying to organise some stuff for that. We’ve all decided to throw a surprise party for him. I told Liz to take him away for the weekend, that’ll piss him off a lot because his birthday is on the Saturday, so he won’t be able to spend his birthday with his friends, but it’ll be worth it. I don’t exactly know where she is taking Luke, but somewhere away from town. I’m really looking forward to it.

I’ve never been big on birthdays, I’ve never been excited for my own birthday, weather I’m getting a super awesome gift or not, I just can’t get excited, even when I was kid. Luke used to get so offended by that.

“So Calum and Ashton, you go get balloons and like party stuff.” Maddie orders.

“Where do we get those from?” Cal asks.

“There’s a good place in town next to the wig shop.” I suggest.

“And you know that because?” Ashton questions.

“Shut up.” I snap.

“Harper and Michael you go get drinks.” Maddie tells us.

“Ah what?” I pout.

“I really wouldn’t moan when she’s in this kind of mood.” Erika whispers in my ear.

One thing we’ve all learnt is that Maddie is a replica of Monica from Friends. Loves bossing people around, is very organised, and cleans all the fucking time, for fun.

“Anyone got any ideas for what food?” She questions.

“Y-” Michael starts off.

“Okay, so me and my sister made a load of food yesterday.” She cuts Michael off.

“Fucking psycho.” Michael mutters.

“And you sleep with her?” Calum asks Erika and points at Maddie as she lists off names of many foods.

“Unfortunately.” She sighs.

“Salad,” Maddie says whilst smacking Erika on the back of her head.

“Why oh why did I choose her out of all the girls.” Erika mutters with wide eyes as she walks away.

“Erika and I are gonna clean this place as well as move some furniture around.” Maddie explains.

“Honestly.” Erika says with her hands up in surrender.

“C'mon Michael.” I nod my head towards the door and grab his arm.

“Bye guys.” We wave and I fetch my car keys out of my pocket.

Michael closes the door behind him and we make our way to my car. Slamming my door closed and putting my keys into the ignition before turning them, causing music to blast out of the speakers. I quickly turn it off because it was one of my songs.

Is that vaine?

“Why’d you turn it off? It was good.” He whines.

“You barely heard it.” I claim.

“Well it was getting into something and I wanted to hear it.” He pouts.

I ignore him and put on The Pretty Reckless.

Pulling out of the driveway I make my way into town.

“I miss Luke.” I whine and lean my head on the steering wheel as we wait for the light to turn green.

“Geez, he’s only been gone a day, get over it. How did you cope when we were on tour?”

“I didn’t.” I shrug.

“Do you regret y'know that whole thing?” He asks.

“Kinda yeah, I did some things I’m not proud of but it’s made me the person I am today.”

“Wha-what did you do?” He questions.

“I took some stuff I shouldn’t.” I sigh and concentrate on the road. “I got so high one night, I didn’t even enjoy the effect, but I did it anyway. I tried to consume everything I could to forget everything, whether it was forever or just a couple of hours, I needed something.” I tell him.

Michael and I have these chats every now and then. Besides Luke, he’s the only person I talk to about my past.

“What was Luke like?” He asks.

“Well he was worried as fuck about me, seeing your best friend and girlfriend on the floor, unconscious on the floor with blood pooled around her is never something you want to see. Obviously he wasn’t with me in England but it always felt as if he was watching me. He was disappointed in me when I admitted what I did, drugs and all, but you can’t undo the past. I’m here now and I’m healthy.” I sigh. “I’m not proud of it at all and I had my little cousins watch me go through that. They really look up to me, they should’ve looked up to Evie or someone. I’m also a role model to lots of young teenage girls, if they saw how I really am/was I don’t think they would even want to throw a look at my direction. It’s not that I’m fake in the videos Erika and I make, I’m just not that happy and I don’t think anybody could be that happy all the time.”

“I totally agree, I’m not the best role model for our fans and definitely not the best in our band. Most of the time it’s really good to be a role model because you can project all these good things, to the people, but sometimes you just get so tired of putting on a fake smile, acting as if your life is pulled together. I often worry that if they see how I truly am, they won’t like me for me. That’s not to say I’m fake, it’s almost like a different persona.” Michael agrees.

“The only person who I truly think doesn’t put a ‘mask’ on, is Erika. Her life is so simple, name me one problem she’s had, apart from coming out.”

“Uh, sh- no, I can’t think of any.” He furrows his eyebrows.

“Exactly. Erika’s had this smooth life, without any bumps along the way, at least not yet or that we know of. This isn’t being mean in the slightest, just an observation. I can’t help but be a tad jealous of her life so far, she’s got her whole life sorted out.”

“Fucking bitch.” Michael mutters and I laugh.

Pulling into a parking spot and turning the engine off. Grabbing my bag from the backseat before opening my door, waiting for Michael to climb out before locking my car. Swinging my bag onto my shoulder and holding the side so it doesn’t bash me against my leg.

“I bet you five dollars that I’m gonna have to show them my ID.” I bet.

“You’re on, you look 40.” He smirks, causing me to smack the back of his head.

“I hate you sometimes.” I pout.

“You love me really.” He says in an overly sweet voice and a shit eating grin.

Michael pulls me into a hug and I rest my head on his shoulder as we walk.

Pushing the door open to the liquor shop, being hit by a very strong smell of red wine. “Couldn’t stay in here for longer than 10 minutes, let alone work here.” Michael mutters.

“I guess you would become immune to it.” I shrug.

“What type are we going for? Like, Luke’s mum is gonna be there, we can’t just get fucked.” Michael questions.

“Liz isn’t the only adult that’s gonna be there, pretty much Luke’s whole family will be there. Get wine, beer, oh gin, Luke’s grandma likes a gin and tonic, maybe some whiskey.” I suggest some.

“What abouts some champagne?” He questions.

“I mean, sure, I won’t be drinking any though.” I tell him.

“I kinda want to get everyone really drunk and just watch.” Michael snickers.

“Have you ever been at a party or club or something, being completely sober and just watch everyone being stupid and making regrets?” I ask.

“I don’t think I’ve been completely sober, but I’ve been less drunk than others and seen some rather amusing stuff unfold.”

“You should try it some time, it can be better than actually being drunk and part of the whole scene.” I laugh.

We go off on a tangent, talking about drunken stories we’ve had together. By the time we get to the check out, we’ve laughed till our stomachs hurts and I wouldn’t be surprised if I have a abs.

“Can I see your ID please,” the man behind the counter requests.

“Sure.” I mutter and search through my bag for my passport.

Opening up the page that has my picture and information on it and passing it to him.

“You owe me 5 dollars.” I whisper into Michael’s ear.

“You should’ve bet more.” He smirks.

***

“I can create milk, what can you do?” Erika asks.

“Turn alcohol into regrets.” I say.

“Wait, if you and Maddie ever have children, what will you do?” Calum asks.

“I’ll be your sperm doner.” Ashton chimes in.

“I don’t fucking know, I haven’t really thought that far ahead.” Erika exclaims.

“What about you and Luke?” Michael questions.

“We’re the opposite gender, that’s how it works. I’m not having children for at least 10 years, I’ve got school and stuff to do before I even think about starting a family. Plus, I’ve already been pregnant, it’s the most terrifying thing.” I state.

“What was that like? We didn’t really get to talk about it?” Ashton questions.

“Probably one of the worst thing I’ve ever had to go through. Luckily I had Luke and I couldn’t of been more greatful and lucky I had Luke to go through it all with. He was so supportive through it all. It was quite emotional to be honest, I’ve never experienced anything like that, to be quite honest I’m not sure if I ever want to be pregnant again, I’ve never been into that lifestyle, could you imagine me as a mum? I think I’d be way too selfish to have a child.”

“What about Luke, doesn’t he want to have kids?” Calum asks.

“We’ve never really spoken about it. Luke probably does want a child, he’s father-material. We’d have to discuss it all, I need to get to a stable place in my life first, get school out the way, live where I want to, have Luke be able to stay in one country for a good few years.” I tell them.

“So you don’t want to have children at all?” Michael asks.

“There’s probably room for discussion, but it’s never gonna be my priority in life. Of course if I ever had a child, I’d love it to pieces and do anything for him/her.” I shrug.

“What about getting married?” Erika questions.

“Same with that, I’ve never been into marriage. Of course I love Luke so much, but I hate being grounded, y'know? I’m not scared of commitment, I just don’t like that fact that once you’re married, you kinda have to start being a proper adult. I might be open to the idea in the future. It doesn’t mean I don’t love Luke enough to marry him, it’s just not for me.” I sigh. “Do you think Luke will be upset with me?”

“Of course not, have you seen the boy? He’s head over heels for you, Luke worships the ground you walk on, he’d do anything for you, or in this case, nothing. I wouldn’t worry about it, Luke does want children though, not anytime soon of course.” Ashton says.

“I’m here!” The voice of Maddie fills our ears.

“Baby.” Erika grins and walks up to Maddie with open arms.

They wrap their arms around each others waists and embrace each other, before kissing each other.

“Ugh, I want Luke, I miss him.” I pout.

“I’ll fulfill his duties.” Calum smirks.

“Don’t come anywhere near me, Hood.” I warn.

“In all honesty do you think I’d be a good boyfriend?” Calum asks.

“You’re a great boyfriend to me.” Michael winks.

“I’ve never really seen you or Ashton or Michael be all coupley. I used to think Erika and Ashton had something going on, but evidently not,” I say and gesture towards Erika and Maddie who are cuddling and whispering stuff into each others ears.

“That used to piss me off so much when you guys would ship us. Like, Erika is a nice girl and all, but I never liked her in that way.” Ashton comments.

“See how Luke and I used to feel.” I tell them.

“That was different, you guys clearly liked each other.” Ashton says.

“Shut up.” I flip him off.

“Can we start decorating now?” Maddie excitedly ask.

“Sure I guess.” I shrug.

“Okay, Michael, Ashton, Harper and Calum you guys do the garden and kitchen, while Erika and I do the inside.” Maddie instructs.

“Ugh, why can’t we get professionals?” I whine and lean on Calum.

“Because it’s Maddie.” Calum sighs and puts his arm around my shoulders, walking me towards the kitchen.

“Okay, Calum and Harper do the kitchen and Michael and I will start the garden.” Ashton tells us.

I start gathering some fairy lights and stringing them around. “Cal, could you pass me the balloons please?” I request.

“Sure.” He nods and throws them towards me.

“Thanks.” I smile and open the package.

Pulling out a green one and start blowing it up, before letting it go, causing it to fly all over the room. Calum squealing and running out of the door.

I bend over, clutching my stomach in laughter. “Harper!” Calum scolds.

“Sorry about it.” I wink and properly blow it up then tying it in a knot.

Many balloons later I’ve blown most of them up, only a couple left. Going into the garden and having a look at what the boy’s have created. “Looking good guys.” I complement them.

They’ve got fairy lights hung up, banners that say Happy Birthday, balloons in the shape of the number 18, and some other useless things.

“Thanks.” Michael grins.

Coming up behind Michael and pulling apart the balloon opening, making it make a squeaky noise.

“Ah, Harper!” Michael pouts.

Tying the balloon up and sticking my nail into it whilst holding it by Ashton. “Hey, Ash.” I smile and when he turns around I dig my nails in deeper, causing it to pop.

Ashton screams and runs around. “Ash, Ash,” I laugh and try to get him to stop running.

“That’s not cool Harper.” He whines.

“I’m sorry.” I say and hug him.

“You will be,” He smirks as he grabs the hosepipe.

“Ashton Fletcher Irwin! Don’t you fucking dare.” I warn.

“Revenge is a thing, Harp.” Ashton wiggle his eyebrow.

“Revenge is best served cold, Irwin.” I tell him.

“I mean, this is quite cold.” He shrugs.

“That’s not how it works.” I say. “If you spray me, I will not be your friend.”

“Oh no, how will I live without you?” His voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Y'know, sarcasm isn’t very nice.” I say and make a b-line to the back door.

“Harper, could you help me with the tables?” Calum asks as he stands by one end of a table.

“Yeah, sure.” I nod and pick up the other end.

Calum walks backwards as I walk forward, we gently ease it out through the doorway and are met by water being sprayed at us.

“Ashton!” I squeal.

“Dude, the fuck?” Calum exclaims.

Ashton starts to spray some more water from the hose and I start to run away, but Ashton wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me towards him, before pointing the hosepipe at me, some getting him.

“You are so dead, Irwin.” I glare at him and take the hose pipe off him and point it at him, making him scream and run around. “Michael,” I call and gesture for him to come over.

“Yeah?” He asks as he walks towards me. What an idiot.

I quickly shove the hose pipe down his jeans and the look of horror on his face. “Harper you son of a bitch.” He curses and take it out of his jeans.

“Yes?” I sweetly ask.

“You are so getting it.” He shakes his head.

This all turns into a water fight, with all of spraying each other or using each other as a human body shield. Luckily it’s hot as balls today.

“I’m gonna go home and get changed.” I tell them and we all follow each other into the house again.

“What on earth happend?” The voice of two girls ask.

“Didn’t you hear the screaming?” Calum questions in disbelief.

“I didn’t really think much of it.” Maddie shrugs.

“We’re going, see you later.” I say.

“Oh, everything is set up out there, just the food and tables need to be set up and stuff.” Ashton tells them.

“Ew, I can’t handle this anymore.” I whine and take my top off as I walk out the door. “Calum stop staring.”

***

“Liz has just texted me, they’re about 3 minutes away.” I tell everyone.

Everyone starts to crouch down or hide behind some furniture, I turn the lights off, not that it did anything anyway because it’s still quite bright outside, the sun is setting.

“Bloody hell, I’m getting a cramp here.” Luke’s grandmother says after a minute and everyone bursts out laughing.

“Pheobe.” I call as she walks out.

She runs back to me and I wrap and arm around her so she doesn’t ruin it all.

We all hear a car pull up and we all get ready to jump out. Hearing the keys jingle in the lock and voices talking, then laughter.

“SURPRISE!” We shout as they enter the house.

“Oh my god.” He laughs. “You lied!” He says and points to Liz and Andy.

I walk over to Luke and smile. “Happy Birthday, Luke.” I grin and give him a small kiss.

“Thank you, really didn’t expect this.” I says and wraps his arm around my waist. “You look great by the way.” He whispers into my ear.

“Thank you.” I smile and kiss his cheek before letting other people talk to him.

“I’m so glad he’s home.” I smile and observe him from afar with Calum.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Calum asks.

“Yeah, I mean it’s Luke, I’ve known him pretty much my whole life. I don’t think I’d be able to live without him, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m so lucky to have him in my life, let alone date him. I love Luke with all my heart, if we ever break up, I’d be so broken, empty, and depressed. Luke is my other half, partner in crime, best friend, what ever you want to call it.” I confess.

“I think it’s greatly returned.” Calum smiles making me blush.

After a while everyone has settled down and are in the garden. Luke and I are sitting on the grass, Luke’s sitting with one leg bent and I’m leaning against it. “Kiss me.” Luke pouts.

“No.”

“Why?” He asks.

“Because your whole family is here.” I point out.

“And…”

“I’m not gonna kiss you with them here, let alone watching.” I say.

“Didn’t stop you earlier.” He raises an eyebrow.

“I was excited to see you.” I whine.

“I can go away and then come back again if you want.” He offers.

“I’m not gonna kiss you Luke,” I laugh.

“One kiss.” He reasons.

“One kiss on the cheek.” I tell him.

“Deal.” He smirks.

I place my hand on his neck and lean up slightly before bringing my lips to his cheek, only for Luke to turn his head at the right moment and our lips collide.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I move my lips against his and Luke’s arm holds my waist, while the other one is in my hair.

“Steady on, lovers.” Luke’s aunt says.

We pull apart wide eyed and stare at each other. “I fucking told.” I tell him.

“Sorry.” He smirks and kisses me again.

“I’m gonna hit you later.”