#how many years does a car battery usually last

[philsservice]

How can you tell when your car battery is going bad? The auto repair experts can give you advice about a needed car battery replacement.

[sebrrari]

need to find a lover that's gonna last

sebastian vettel/mark webber, au, 4.1k, rated r

aka, the drag au that no one asked for and that i wasn't fully able to flesh out, so i'm posting the dash/not!fic to get it off my chest. happy martian monday to the squad!!

_________

it’s august 30th, 2013, and mark has just signed the last page of the legal paperwork to buy himself out of his future engagements with infiniti red bull racing, effective immediately. they’re going to call up daniel from toro rosso, and mark is going to take the first plane going his way so he can be home in time to start licking his damn wounds before the news hits the press. 

christian shakes his hand and tells him to call if he changes his mind. 

he won’t. he can’t. the last few years took just about everything from him, but not his integrity. he’d never come crawling back to the machine that spit him out on track and let his teammate run him over. 

his phone starts buzzing as he’s crossing the parking lot of the factory - call from sebastian v. 

mark scoffs and swallows a burning feeling, then pops the battery out of the back of the phone and shuts the car door. the driver pulls out of the lot smoothly, and mark doesn’t watch in the rear view mirror as the looming building disappears. 

and, somehow, life goes on. 

_________

freeing himself means no more lavish lifestyle - not that he got quite as extravagant as some of the others when he had the chance. he does the shopping at night, just before the grocery closes, and sends out for most everything else so he doesn’t have to stomach any knowing stares. it takes a few months of skulking around his house (paid for, in cash, with a reasonable savings fund for improvements) and drinking a few too many beers alone before he finally gets back to living. 

there are friends he makes, and people he cuts off. hobbies he tries, old habits he tries his best to quit. and, one spring day, one of his gym buddies invites mark to a brunch where he’ll be performing down in canberra, and mark’s therapist talks him into going - he can leave if he wants to, but he should stay for a fry up, just for his troubles, at least. it’s a hell of a trek, but it’s something to do.

his performing friend ends up being phenomenal - after mark stops looking for his crew cut and tank top, and realizes he’s - she’s - the one in a meter-high blonde wig and impeccable makeup. she lights up the room and takes each proffered dollar out of her patrons’ hands with a wink and a smile. 

mark leaves after his friend bows and exits the lit up, glittery stage, but it’s with a bit of something simmering in his chest. the drive home is a breeze instead of an exercise in teeth grinding and measured breathing. 

he’s straightening up the kitchen after dinner and realizes - he didn’t catch a single person glancing his way or snapping a covert picture of him to tell their mates they saw an all-time formula 1 failure during their meal.  

he calls his friend up the next day, and asks him - her? - to lunch, where he’s enlightened on the culture of drag, and drag brunch, and gender identity. he feels… lighter, and like the world has righted its axis after years of wobbly spinning.

he’s also been kindly informed that he’s been a member of a gay gym in a gay part of town for going on six months now. that gets a laugh out of him, a sound so foreign to his ears now, and he can’t stop once he starts. 

once he’s recovered and paid the tab for them both, he tells evan that he’ll see him at their usual time for an extra difficult weight circuit tomorrow night.

“i’ll bring my sport mode heels, then,” evan says, and mark groans, and is pretty sure that isn’t a thing.  

_________

months later, after a lot of soul searching, and therapy sessions guiding him on how to try new things, and many a craft night with evan and some other local girls, tara rocco makes her debut at a bar’s talent show on a dare. 

it’s been a wonderful exercise in determination (drawing eyebrows on yourself is something that doesn’t come easily), endurance (dancing in a corset with stilettos while remembering lyrics should be officially on the iron man course, he thinks) and competition (a talent show, with a $50 prize, to be tipped to the bar staff when he wins).

his muscles awaken after years of being forced ramrod straight. his entire being stretches back into existence. it's delightful. the applause helps, too. he gets a pretty good round for a 9pm wednesday crowd.

“are you sure you’ve never worn heels before? like, ever?” ray asks while they’re stripping the glue off mark’s natural eyebrows with some kind of industrial solvent that stings like hell. 

“not that i can remember,” mark says, his mouth dry from some stiff drinks and from the makeup remover he got on his tongue. 

“well, love, you should think about wearing them more, because you’re a bloody natural. your proportions are to die for, and you’ve got rhythm. you’d be booking more nights than half the queens in the state on those credentials alone.” 

_________

ray is mark’s first call when he decides to do another talent show, no peer pressure needed. then another, and another, until they decide mark needs a signature look if he’s going to start “getting those bookings you’re entitled to with the way your arms look next to a black leather number like that corset you’ve picked up, mark.” 

it’s like unleashing the marvel within himself, the one he used to know - it’s just shaped differently. there’s prep meetings (to go over the set list, tweak any tracks that lagging or to add a specific song for an event or holiday), press (a few pictures for the venue’s posters and social media, all retouched a bit much for his liking, but he’s choosing his battles), practice sessions (blocking the routine in his open-concept kitchen and living room, with ray laying down post-its to serve as the stage dimensions and evan and his partner acting as an audience for mark to play to), then show time. 

and he’s never known anything but a full fucking send.

the rush feeds him like it always did, even with the stakes so low. he can’t really deny that he loves looking like this - beautiful, sculpted, powerful, in charge.

it’s intoxicating without being consuming, fun and adrenaline-inducing without the sour taste of loss when the lights go down.

when he takes the drag off and wipes his face clean, he’s just mark again - mark who ran, once, but who stands tall now, with a little help from some friends.

and god, his ass looks good in fishnets. it truly does. 

_________

aussie drag culture is insular and so no one really gets a whiff, and he lives pretty comfortably off his bar appearances and an occasional tour spot in peak months.

once every couple years, a promoter calls him up and sounds business-minded and not like they've just found his wikipedia page and intend to add a new section titled Downfall and Public Outrage to it with their fucking scheme. those are the people for whom he hops into a dance studio and gets a routine in shape to trot around a few states, and hey. his heels are shorter and his splits aren't what they used to be, but he still manages to put on a show. 

he keeps in touch with barely a handful of people from his old life, but seb's retirement announcement sends shockwaves big enough that he'd have heard about it if he was six feet under. something like hunger pangs through his core, hollow and longing for the gentle fall into glory and grace he was never afforded. 

but he's happy for seb. he's made his peace with it just like he's made his peace with the fact that red lipstick will never really suit his skin tone and he has to cheat towards purples. there are facts of life, after all.

one of the facts is that what goes around will always come around. at barely 8 am, knocking incessantly and ringing the doorbell for good (ungodly) measure.

he checks the front door camera feed, and thinks he's finally cracked.

but no, seb's really on mark's fucking doorstep, with the same smile on the same face but through layers and layers of time and a lot more facial hair. 

mark's not sure what he must look like - loose gym shorts that hit mid-thigh, smoothly waxed legs, a rumpled and mustard stained shirt from MARY'S POPPIN EST. 2016 ADELAIDE'S FINEST DEBAUCHERY. seb doesn't seem to notice - or care - in the least. he just asks to use the toilet. 

it's the first time mark's heard his voice in person since - since. mark's stomach roils and he can only nod and choke out the directions - down the hall, second door. seb thanks him and makes his way. 

mark goes back to making the coffee, dazedly pulls down a second mug from the cabinet and fishes the sugar out from the bottom shelf of the pantry. seb always took his sweet on early mornings at the track.

mark is just finishing up, kitchen towel in hand to dry a spoon for seb to stir with, when the soft squeak of seb's trainers on the tile snaps him to attention. the pot of coffee is full now - mark realizes just how long he's been waiting for seb to come back in.

he did say the right door, didn't he? he said the second door down the hall. he did. he did.

much like a cat, though, curiosity was always seb's weapon of choice.

"this must look absolutely delicious on you, mark," seb says, and it's a purr of victory to mark's ear, a predator’s grin before its jaw snaps shut around naive prey.

he doesn't want to turn around. he doesn't want to see the corset in seb's delicate grasp - the one that needs a little TLC after last weekend, an eyelet hanging loose off the leather from rough treatment during his finale. he doesn't want to see the laces hanging off the constructed garment, lifeless and boxy without something to wrap around. 

the spoon clatters in the sink. he realizes he’s holding his breath. 

how in the fuck is he going to explain to sebastian vettel that he couldn't fucking stand playing second fiddle and begging for scraps anymore, so he blew his bank accounts to smithereens, fucked off back home humbled and rough, and now he does drag twice a week and tours during peak season.

how is he going to explain to a four-time world champion of motorsport, someone who eclipsed his life to the point that he ran, that he even likes it. 

seb’s made himself his coffee like this is a hotel breakfast bar and not mark's life being turned upside down and shaken by the ankles. 

"i always knew," is one of the first things seb says after he's apologized and laid the corset gently over a kitchen chair. 

mark nearly chokes. "knew?"

"that you were, you know. i mean, it takes one to know the other? is that how you say it?"

"knew?"

"i'm - me too, mark. i'm gay. queer, if we're putting a finer point on it. not that crossdressing is-” 

seb sucks on the spoon, then lays it on a napkin and sighs. 

“oh, hell. mick gave me such a good talk about this, and i am putting my foot in my mouth. i really do mean to be better about this. i have so much reading to do, now that i have more time, i must sound so foolish. forgive me."

"you're gay."

"yes. and i thought-"

"you thought.” 

"i thought a lot of things, but then you were gone. i have no idea what you have even been up to. and now that i am here, i feel as though maybe that was on purpose.” seb takes another sip and swallows carefully. “i did not mean to just barge back in and-"

“but you did.” that's exactly what seb did - barge. mark can feel angry heat coil itself around his spine and get his pulse going. 

it gets tense at the breakfast table while they continue their stilted conversation, but mark susses out that seb thinks the corset is some fetish thing - he still doesn't know know.

small, twisted mercies.

seb leaves eventually, around lunch time. the hollow feeling is still floating heavy in mark's gut, but it's not as painful as he thought it'd be to accept the hug seb pulls him in for, to say sure when seb says they should meet up one more time before seb goes back to europe. he says he's in queensland for a month, some eco-vacation-caravan-docu-whatever that he hopes to invest in has him here to pitch him and let him get his hands a little dirty in the bush.

he trusts seb to not like, tell the fucking papers or whatever someone might do with this information (nando comes to mind, since mark is feeling especially bitey). but it’s not like it’s a secret, either. he’s just been lucky until now - lucky that he fell so far, so fast, that the bright lights and nosy pundits of f1 don’t stoop to his level.

it’s been a week and no one comes calling. no one emails him asking for a fishy interview. the publicist he still pays - a joke of a retainer, if he’s honest, bless her - doesn’t text him. 

he does his usual show at his usual regionally-famous bar, and gets his usual amount of not-as-much-as-you-might-think in tips.

he gets the mended corset back from his seamstress and hangs it up carefully in the closet next to the others, buttery black leather all lined up in a row.

there’s one pushed a little farther back than those in regular rotation, still shiny and hardly worn. it had seemed a little on the nose when he tried it on after buying it online one night, a few glasses of chardonnay too deep in his favorite leather website. 

it’s red for the bulls he couldn’t wrangle, for the misdeeds that put him out on his ass. 

he fishes it off the rack and caresses it, sets the laces right, then carefully tightens it around his waist and turns to the mirror.

and he knows, as he poses for himself, checks his silhouette, skims his eyes across the shoes laid in pairs on the floor against the wall, exactly what his opening number will be next week to kick off his summer tour.

what he doesn’t know is who is going to be sitting three rows back and dead center when the lights go down, the curtains part, and mark makes his hips swivel and sway to the opening synth hits of "little red corvette."

_________

seb is waiting at the stage door exit when mark comes through it, and mark tries to guess how long he must’ve been waiting here. he'd spotted seb in the audience during the third number of the evening, and like a true bred professional, he kept going. he didn’t run. he kept going. 

now, though, with the adrenaline worn off and his quads killing him, he just wants answers. 

“you-” mark stutters. “how did you know?” 

seb licks his lips and smiles playfully. it’s only because mark had known him for so long that he doesn’t mistake it for venomous. 

“well,” seb says, dragging the word out, “they do advertise your shows, don’t they? i saw it in the paper.”

“bullshit,” mark scoffs. “you wouldn’t buy a paper, it’s wasteful. why are you here, seb?”

seb kicks himself off the brick wall of the theater and steps towards mark - mark steps back just as nonchalantly, a dance in keeping his distance that he could do with his eyes closed - but seb doesn’t back down. he shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. 

“i wanted to see you.” 

“you could’ve called.” 

seb does scoff, then, the first hint of frustration mark’s seen out of him since old team meetings and press conferences. it hits a nerve, but it’s a dull pain that makes itself known then retreats. 

“would you have answered?” 

mark casts his eyes downward, caught in the truth. 

“i really enjoyed tonight, mark. you’re a true performer. i want to hear all about how you come up with these shows. can we go somewhere and talk?” seb asks, still pressing at the opening he sees. 

mark can’t suss out if seb really wants to know all that, if he’s really telling the truth. but he remembers how the world didn’t come crashing down after he let seb in the last time. he breathes - in for three, hold for three, out for three. 

“okay,” mark says, clears his throat. “alright. my feet are fucking killing me, though. let’s just go back to the hotel.” 

_________

they talk, sure. there was definitely talking - seb’s always had a way with words that unravels mark to a point no one else can. seb casts a lifeline with his earnestness and reels mark in with his humility and wit, and it’s like all the anger he thought he still had isn’t where he thought he left it. there are other, smaller jagged edges that need examining, but the big wound has closed up while he was assuming it still festered.

there were other things that led them to the position they’re in now, though- mark on top of seb’s bare body in a chain hotel’s queen bed, the mattress squeaking as they get comfortable.

he’s moving on instinct, all groans and animal desires. it’s been so, so long since someone’s gotten under his skin enough to bring him to this point - or maybe someone never left their spot there, buried just like he thought all his racing past was. 

he doesn’t want to think about that anymore, or to talk, though. he just wants. 

“i-” mark inhales deeply, gets the smell of seb’s lavender and pine soap, then something muskier underneath. he holds his breath, devours the scent like he’s starved for it. 

mark wants him. he wants seb so badly he’s on fire with it after denying himself for so long. 

“say it again,” seb gasps, and mark bites down on seb’s neck just enough to pinch, then kisses the spot wetly and makes his way down seb’s chest. 

“i want you, seb,” mark groans hoarsely, like he’s worked a sore muscle into relaxing. it’s an intoxicating hit of relief. he sags towards seb’s body, ruts his cock against him over and over again until he glides smooth with sweat and precome. 

“mark, you can-“ mark noses back up to seb’s throat and kisses his adam’s apple open-mouthed, rubs his lips against the stubble there until they’re red and tingling.  

“you should,” seb corrects, his voice thin but sure.  “you should fuck me. before this is over too soon, no?”

the haze in mark’s mind retreats a little. he blinks and gives a parting lick to seb’s pulse point, gets one more thrust of his hips against seb’s soft stomach before he lifts himself up, arms on either side of seb’s ribcage. 

he hasn’t fucked anyone in quite some time, and he hadn’t let himself really think- 

he needs to get out of the habit of thinking, it seems, when it comes to seb. because with him, he can just be. he can just trust, if what his gut is telling him remains true. 

he can just want. 

and he can have. 

he doesn’t ask seb if he’s sure - he’s smarter than that, at least. he knows now that seb goes after what he truly wants, only offers what he’s already been ready to give. 

he just cups seb’s face with a shaking hand and kisses him slowly, fire on his tongue and an ache in his chest, let’s the spark of anticipation charge up til it’s consuming him whole. 

“can i go slow?” mark asks against seb’s lips. “it’s been so long since… since.”

“we have all the time we need, mark.” seb bites his lip for a moment, then whines and smiles up at mark with the mischief that makes mark’s good sense go out the door. “but let’s get started, shall we?” 

_________ 

in the time between summer club season closing and next spring, there’s a whole book’s worth of development. there’s a journey of shame to acceptance for mark because he almost got away with seb thinking this was a fetish, and that fetishes are normal and okay and can be locked behind a door - when you actually remember to bloody lock it - but to mark it's so much worse. 

because it’s not a fetish - it’s his livelihood, and how does he even look millionaire activist and beloved hero sebastian vettel in the eye once he knows mark dances in a tight corset and a barely there skirt for money?

he does, though. he does. 

he can hold his own in 4-inch pumps against even the youngest queens because he lost a lot of things, but never his competitive drive or the muscle tone in his calves. and he didn’t think that could matter to a man like seb, who’s off to see the world and save it bit by bit with a dazzling, crinkly smile and a soft touch of kindness for everyone he meets.

but seb is there, telling him it does matter, simply because it’s mark. that it’s mark that seb’s here for, and the rest they’ll figure out. 

and they will, because they’re not ones to quit. not for something that truly, truly matters to their hearts.  

it's also about love and self acceptance and queerness and kinkiness and how mark looks hot and dangerous and masculine and divinely feminine all at once. it’s about how seb can't believe he ever let mark run away without telling him that he is enough to love in every form, and how mark grows to believe him in time, in his own shape. 

_________

and there's another side to the story, one that's waited patiently and knew to bide its time to be heard.

this side thinks that, if things were different, maybe seb wouldn't be treated to the sight of mark bent over the same kitchen table he was ready to lunge over just a few months ago. and how maybe mark wouldn't trust seb to smear his lipstick and untie his laces, to gently pull his tights down and off.

this side is about how, if he hadn’t called in a favor from jenson to get mark’s address after years of restraining himself from searching, seb might not have the absolute privilege of dropping to his knees and worshiping mark until they’re both full to bursting with something seb’s not sure he’s ever felt - even as fireworks erupted over his car in abu dhabi what seems like a century ago, even as he took his final laps in the kind of machine he spent his life trying to tame. 

this is something new, something precious and strong that seb wants to make bloom in vivid color. he could spend the rest of his days learning the taste of whatever this is. 

seb signs on as a producer for the ecological reserve’s new sustainable tourism and documentary project. he cancels his flights and books his rented, sensible bungalow indefinitely. 

he’s hardly there. 

because he’s with mark and he can’t get enough, even when it’s tough. even when mark spooks, even when he tests seb’s patience like he’s always done - seb wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than where he’s meant to be, and that place cannot be anywhere but with mark, and he knows it. 

because when seb watches mark onstage, with his smoky eyes and his long, mesmerizing legs, his mouth waters. he longs in a way he didn’t think he’d ever be able to again.

and when he meets mark backstage after opening night of this newly revamped show - rev tara’s engine on tour! - with a bouquet of red, red roses in hand, mark’s right there with his makeup half off and sweats pulled over his fishnets, and it makes seb’s pulse jolt. 

he’s real. what they have is shaping up to be, too.

he just has to go get what he's after, and something about mark has always made him relish the chase. 

mark catches sight of him in the big mirror he’s seated in front of and his eyebrows nearly hit his hairline, but he softens into a grin. seb smiles back, bites his lip.

“these are for you,” he says, and offers the bouquet. mark stands immediately, takes the flowers and sniffs them indulgently before depositing them gently on the vanity among his tubes of lipstick and eyeshadow palettes. seb was ready to feel silly for bringing flowers to a drag show, but mark takes them for the gesture they are and treats them like something precious, something greater than the handful they exist as. 

he rises on his stocking feet and steps up til he’s toe to toe with seb. there’s a shadow of eyeliner still clinging to his waterline, accenting the spark in his eyes as it smolders and crackles something electric. 

“thank you, i love them, sebi,” mark says, his breath skimming seb’s lips, and seb can’t let himself miss.

he steadies himself by the dip in mark’s cinched waist, and kisses him to unleash everything he’s been holding, lets his heart flow right out of his chest and through his lips. 

mark covers seb’s hand with his bigger one, his palm soft and warm and trembling, and receives the love seb has been waiting to give. 

___________________________

thanks @kritischetheologie @mwebber and @vetterrari and the other people who i made read this awhile ago!!!! love u all for being so encouraging and unhinged with me - you make this fandom what it is xxxxxx

this thing's google doc is titled "spreading you open is the only way of knowing you," a fine line reference but also something i'm finding to be a little too astute. count yer days harry if i ever see you in person i have my therapists superbill in my purse with your name on it.

[rockinlibrarian]

People I'd like to know better!

@stephsageek tagged me in this thing! I think the last time I did it it was specifically NINE people I'd like to know better? Anyway here's the last time I filled this out; obviously some answers have changed and some have stayed the same

Last song: I can't remember the last song I actually HEARD, besides the background music to Splatoon which the 16yo was playing as usual, but I started singing almost out of nowhere (there was a reference to Liverpool in the book we were reading and I asked the kids if they knew the thing Liverpool was MOST IMPORTANT FOR THERE IS ONLY ONE RIGHT ANSWER) "Drive My Car" and it's been in my head and still occasionally sung since.

Favourite colour: Still cerulean.

Currently watching: Percy Jackson. We're big Riordan fans in this household. @sunnymarbles yells at everyone to watch it ASAP and then basically trembles with joy the whole way through.

Last movie/TV show: Hubs got the complete James Bond collection for Christmas so we all watched Dr. No the other day. To various levels of attention.

Spicy/savory/sweet: All, as previously mentioned

Relationship Status: Married 20 years and 2 days. We're finally taking date night tomorrow night (I've had work all week, including the evening of our anniversary) at our reception restaurant and the hotel behind it.

Current Obsession: The Yuletide fic exchange. It is so fun. There are so many random fics from such obscure source materials (and not so obscure-- as I've hinted before, the one I wrote is from one I can't believe still qualified, and I think in the time since it DID qualify it no longer does, at least), and so many people had such fun with what they wrote, too. People are such good sports too! And the RESPONSES! My fic, which I will share with you when it un-anonymizes on Monday, is doing really well, people-loving-it-wise, and I am getting more in-depth listing-all-your-favorite-lines type comments on this than I swear I've gotten on all 33 other fics I have posted all together. Yuletide participants are so cool!

Last thing you Googled: How to remove the battery of a Vostro 15 3530. Good news, I got a new computer for Christmas! Bad news, it promptly stopped working after two days! Luckily, that means it's obviously still under warranty! And since I just saw a Tumblr post about Apple purposely making their devices next to impossible to repair to force you to buy more, I have to give Dell Customer Service a shout-out for not only getting back to me quickly, but walking me through various tests so if it COULD have been repaired by me, they would have showed me how-- and that involved me actually opening the thing up to check on the battery and connections inside, even! (They were all fine, it turns out it's a motherboard problem and I have to send the dang thing back). Which is why I had to Google pictures of how to actually do that.

This is also why, normally, I would be using these days to write up all my end-of-the-year roundup posts, but most of my notes are in Cloud Limbo, and my old computer is SO. DANG. SLOW. So my end-of-year roundups are going to be late this year. That's okay, I didn't want to do any fanfic-I-wrote roundups until after this last one un-anonymizes, anyway!

So now let's tag brand new non-bot follower, @pixileanin!

[beardedmrbean]

Helsingin Sanomat draws an analogy (siirryt toiseen palveluun) between Finland's economic prospects and the weather in November: both are dark, dreary and grey.

"Based on the indicators that predict economic growth, the economy seems to be deteriorating even further. Even for the Finnish economy, the worst is probably still ahead," the Bank of Finland's Head of Forecasting Meri Ostbaum tells HS.

These metaphorical grey clouds on the horizon are clearly worrying consumers too, as confidence in the economy has been hemorrhaging since the summer — hitting an all-time low in October.

Despite the gloomy economic forecast, falling confidence and rising interest rates, HS writes that people in Finland are still financing many of their purchases by taking on more debt.

Figures provided by the Bank of Finland reveal that between May and September this year lenders granted unsecured loans to households at a much higher rate than during the equivalent period last year — when we were still in the grips of the Covid pandemic.

Bank of Finland economist Markus Aaltonen tells HS that this may be explained by households preparing for further increases in energy prices.

"During the summer months, the increase in consumer credit was definitely explained by tourism, as credit is often offered as part of vacation trips. However, the growth has also continued in the third quarter, and one of the reasons for this may be the need for households to pay energy bills when the price of electricity has risen," Aaltonen says.

Tampere sees rise in street robberies

Tampere-based Aamulehti writes that police in the city are concerned about a significant rise in the number of street robberies over the past few months.

The thefts usually take place on a weekend night, the victims are often drunk, and police believe the perpetrators are aged between 15 and 20.

Markus Antila of the Central Finland Police Department explains to Aamulehti how the incidents normally play out.

"In groups of one to four people, young men usually approach the person and then first ask for money, a mobile phone or expensive designer shoes, but sometimes they don't say anything, but use physical force against the victim and take what they want. The property values of the robberies are quite small, so the acts are not making them rich," Antila explains.

He added that the phenomenon may be driven by an appreciation of the 'Roadman' youth subculture, which began in the UK in the 2000s.

"Life on the streets and making a living through crime are idealised," Antila says, adding that police believe the influence of social media may also play a role.

"On social media, life is glittering and everyone has everything. If you see someone wearing Louis Vuitton clothes or accessories, you have to get them for yourself by any means necessary," he tells AL.

Preparing for blackouts

Tabloid Ilta-Sanomat urges its readers (siirryt toiseen palveluun) to begin preparing for the possibility of rolling power outages during the coming winter months.

Fingrid's communications manager Marjaana Kivioja tells IS that even short power cuts, of up to two hours at a time, may cause unexpected challenges — especially in urban areas.

"Elevators won't work, cash registers won't work, refuelling [vehicles] won't work," Kivioja notes.

However, she adds that two hours is not a very long time to be without electricity, especially if consumers are given advance notice, and gives some advice to IS readers about how to cope.

"Get a radio or use a car stereo. You can hear more information there. Get a lamp with good batteries. The house won't cool down in two hours, no matter how cold it is. Do not open the freezer or the refrigerator. Think about what you will eat within the two hours or what you can make without electricity, for example something that does not require an electrical appliance to prepare," Kivioja advises.

[naturecoaster]

Preparing for a Hurricane

As Hurricane Beryl barrels along the South Caribbean, we watch the news and worry about those in this storm’s path. In 2023, the Nature Coast got slapped with Cat 3 Hurricane Idalia, leaving the area reeling. Each time we hear a hurricane is forming, we wonder if it will be meant for us next. Hurricane season began on June 1st and lasts until November 30th. That’s six months of storm season each year. Like a game of bowling with a really bad bowler, the weather channel spaghetti models always show wobbly paths for hurricanes, dependent on winds, weather fronts, and water temperatures.  We silently live in hope the hurricane veers off away from us. But what if it doesn’t? If you’re new to Florida or just moved to the Nature Coast, be warned. Welcome to Florida: the land of preppers Florida is full of preppers. Storm preppers. We tuck away spare flashlights, have a storage of extra batteries, solar-powered cell phone chargers and may even be hiding an extra case of water under the bed and water filters that we claim were bought for hiking. Canned vegetables and beans stock our pantries, and we probably have a gas grill hiding in the shadows. We’re used to storms and prepping comes naturally- a no-brainer. This does NOT make us ready to become the next Florida Man headline, however. We’ve seen streets flooded, had the power knocked out by fallen trees, and witnessed rain falling so fast and hard we couldn’t see a hand in front of our faces. We gave up on those cute umbrellas because the winds usually break them and the rain falls sideways anyways. Who else has worn a plastic garbage bag in lieu of a raincoat? Preparing for a hurricane in Florida requires simple steps that are best done in advance. Several resources and ideas from those who have weathered many storms on the Nature Coast are below. Image courtesy of DepositPhotos.com How to Prepare for a Hurricane FloridaDisaster.Org and county government websites contain useful resources for hurricane prepping. They suggest you stock enough food and water for seven days. Water is determined to be about one gallon per person per day. Food should be sealed, non-perishables. If you have food allergies or sensitivities, keep that in consideration when stocking up the pantry. You may notice the week of a storm hitting, the local supermarkets look ravaged; emptied of all water cases and easy prep food like ramen noodles. It’s a good idea to stock up prior to the storm announcement. Remember to stock up on medications, baby supplies, and pet food prior to storm landfall in case you are unable to leave the house. Keeping at least a half full tank of gas in your car is a good idea as well, because if the electricity does go out, the gas stations will be closed. That and if there is an evacuation order, local gas supplies often become depleted. It is also a good idea to have your family documents and insurance papers on hand should you need them - or need to evacuate with them. Hurricane Category chart by Sally White. Storm Lingo to Know: - Tropical Storm: Winds of 39-79 mph - Flash flood: intense rainfall in an area already soaked and unable to absorb the additional water. Waterways may become swollen and over flow onto streets and neighborhoods. - Storm Surge: an abnormal rise in seawater level that can happen before, during and after hurricanes. During this time, water is pushed toward the coastline, leading to flooding. Storm surges can cause significant damage and pose a threat to property and lives. - Watch: an area where there is a tropical storm/flood threat within 36 hours. - Warning: It’s coming your way! Tropical storm/flood conditions within 24 hours. - Tornado: the wind conditions within a hurricane that can cause dangerous and destructive tornado spin-offs on land and sea. Know your hurricane evacuation route before the storm arrives. Although there are road signs, it is good to know where you should start. Image courtesy of Pixabay. Before the Storm Keep track of the path of the storm and all warnings from your area. You can do this through your local news channels or at NOAA.gov, which will give you all the science with no frills (or advertisements). Be the storm prepper and have your supplies stocked prior to storms. Make sure you have a hurricane evacuation plan in case you receive mandatory evacuation orders- and get your place in order. Evacuation routes are posted on the roads heading inland from the coast, but it’s always a good idea to know where you are going before you have to leave. Clean your yard by picking up debris and securing any outdoor furniture, garden ornaments, and tools. Bring any outdoor furniture cushions inside.  A garden chair and even a sun umbrella can become a flying projectile in the strong winds of a hurricane. Make sure your generator is in working order and has fuel. Top off the gas in your car, should you need it. If you need sandbags to stop floodwaters, your county provides sandbag fill & pick-up points for residents. Make sure you have games and indoor activities available like coloring, cards, and board games to while the time away. When You Gotta Go, You Gotta Go If you live in a mobile home and coastal or low-lying areas, you may have to evacuate. Make sure you know what your zone is for any evacuation notices. You can Find out your zone at Floridadisaster.com If you are evacuating to a shelter, you must comply with their rules. Shelters are usually set up in concrete buildings like schools. There are certain shelters set aside for persons with special needs and also for persons with pets. When bringing your pet to a shelter, you must provide proof of rabies vaccination and county license for each pet. Shelters may have additional requirements. Inquire first. Sign up for your county alert system for storm information and evacuation notices on the statewide emergency alert system Alert Florida. Enter your county name on the online form and choose which area/ or all of which you wish to receive alerts. You will then be directed to that area’s local sign-up page. You can sign up here: https://apps.floridadisaster.org/alertflorida/ When a road is not a road. Hurricane Ian swept through Citrus County leaving many areas underwater, like this one near Crystal Manor. Image by Sally White. After the Storm Having been through several hurricanes in Florida, it is adrenaline-pumping to listen to the wind, rain and random flying objects move around. Depending on the storm's location and severity, this can last a few minutes or several hours. Afterward, however, is when we have to deal with the effects of the hurricane’s force. It is quite eerie to go outside after the hurricane is past and see twisted trees, downed power lines, and the rising tides’ effects. Storm Power Outages Be sure to keep your latest electric bill on hand for your account number and emergency outage number. Report your outage to your electric company. You only need to do this once. If you venture outside after the storm and see a fallen powerline, stay clear. Make sure to keep your pets away from it too. Do not attempt to drive over it either. Immediately call your electric company. You’ll need the address/location of the fallen line. Local Electric Companies in the Nature Coast: - Duke Energy 800.228.8485 - Sumter Electric (Citrus County) 800.732.6141 - Withlacoochee Electric 352.567.5133 Image by DepositPhotos.com When a Fridge is Not a Fridge One of the biggest woes of post-hurricane life is losing all your food in a well-stocked fridge or freezer due to a power outage. If you plan on leaving to shelter elsewhere, how will you know if your refrigerator was compromised? Before evacuating, put a penny on an already frozen ice cube tray. When you come back, if there was an outage, the penny will be sunk inside the ice cube. If not, it will remain on top of the cubes. Another tip is to freeze water bottles. You will be able to use them as ice packs in the fridge and freezer in case of outages and cold drinks when they defrost. They will also help keep the refrigerator cold if you have an outage. But in a long-term outage situation, you may have to dispose of any food that has gone bad. If you have a generator, you can use it to prioritize keeping that fridge cold. Remember to follow the instructions of your generator before using. Be sure that you know how to use your large generator to be sure it won’t back feed to the power grid. If it is a portable generator, start it regularly to keep that small engine working. Be sure to have fuel for said generator on hand in clean gas cans. Boat owners in Homosassa mooring their craft before a storm. Image by Sally White. Water, Water Everywhere During and after the storm you may have flooding. Keep posted on local boil-water notices. If you have a bathtub and fill it up prior to the storm, you will have a stock of water for washing and to flush your toilet in case of power outages. Alternatively, keeping a generator on hand can run your well pump. While treading through the floodwaters may seem fun, consider the fact that sewers and septic systems may have added to those floodwaters and live power lines may be in that water away from sight, making it deadly. Avoid driving through flooded roads. The roads can buckle and deteriorate beneath the weight of the water. Unknown depth of water can cause your car to stall, lift and even get swept away by floodwaters. After Hurricane Irma in 2017, we were glad to have gas and a working chainsaw to remove the 100-foot trees that the storm took down. Image by Diane Bedard. Storm Hardship Aid through FEMA If your property has been damaged by the storm and you require financial help, register with FEMA at 800-621-FEMA or www.disasterassistance.gov. Hurricane Resources for the Nature Coast: - American Red Cross 863.294.5941 - United Way of Central Florida 888.370.7188 - Hurricane Prepping - https://www.floridadisaster.org/planprepare/preparing-for-hurricane-season - Citrus County - https://www.sheriffcitrus.org/divisions/bureau_of_support_operations/emergency_operations.php - https://citrus.floridahealth.gov/programs-and-services/emergency-preparedness-and-response/index.html - Hernando County - https://www.hernandocounty.us/home/showpublisheddocument/8412/638205162395900000 - https://www.hernandocounty.us/departments/departments-a-e/emergency-management/make-your-plan - Pasco County - https://www.pascocountyfl.net/services/hurricane.php - https://www.cityofnewportrichey.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/2022-Disaster-Preparedness-Guide.pdf - Marion County - https://www.marionso.com/hurricane-preparedness - Levy County - https://www.levydisaster.com/personal-preparedness.php Read the full article

[purplesurveys]

1880

What is the last game you played on your phone? Just my usual rhythm game.

What kind of phone do you have?  iPhone 13 Pro.

Do you have it in a case? Yes, it's never not been in one.

Do you have a screen protector? Like tempered glass? Yes I have that too.

Who is the last person you messaged? I think it had been Val.

What’s the last app you downloaded? I had to redownload Google Meet because there was a meeting I needed to take from the car.

Who is the first contact in your phone? Alex, a girl from high school.

Do you give people personalized ringtones? I gave my ex one before but obviously that's not happening now.

What percentage is your phone battery? 22%.

Does your screen have any cracks? No. This is my first phone ever to not have cracks, and I'm ngl I'm proud of it hahaha.

LOOKS

What color is your hair? Black. How tall are you? I'm a little below 5'1".

Are you happy with the way you look right now? I'm nowhere near looking ready to go out – I've just woken up and am in pajamas lol – but I at least don't feel gross and sweaty, which is nice on its own.

Describe your outfit:  Purple pajamas. I don't know yet what I plan to wear for today.

What makeup products are you wearing, if any? None.

What tattoos or piercings do you have?  Just ones on my earlobes.

How would you describe your skin tone? I'm on the morena side!

Are your nails painted? No.

What color eyes do you have? Brown.

What is your favorite physical feature about yourself?  Fingers and eyelashes.

OUTSIDE

Why were you last outside?  We were in Tagaytay for three days to organize a surprise party for my grandparents. It was a great experience - the party itself went super well, no hitches; and the hotel and their staff were helpful beyond words. I hate when vacations go so well because that makes going back to reality so much harder, lol.

What’s the last outdoor concert you went to? Seventeen's concert in January took place in an open-air stadium.

Do you own a tent? We do have one.

What’s the weather like today? Do you have distinctive seasons where you live? Tagaytay as expected was a bit on the colder side. I'm back home now and I'm very surprised at how humid it is; I couldn't help but turn on the aircon as soon as I got back to my room.

What is your favorite kind of tree? I don't have a favorite tree.

Are you allergic to any plants? Nope.

Did you play any outdoor sports in school? I don't think so.

When’s the last time you got rained on? Last Friday! We were walking from our hotel to the nearby theme park to find someplace to eat, and it started raining haha. Fortunately the walk lasted all of 5 minutes and we got to the restaurant we were eyeing in no time.

Do you go to parks frequently? Not really, because we don't have a lot of them.

FACEBOOK

Do you have your full birth name on there? My legal middle name is not included.

What’s the last notification you got? The dog hotel I boarded the dogs at for the last 3 days. I most recently said thanks for their service so they probably replied to that.

Do you ever upload videos? Nah. I'd do so on Stories, but never as an in-feed post.

How many friends do you have? A little under 670.

Who is the last person you added? Philip, a media contact who's since turned into kind of a friend. He's very easy to talk to and quite unserious haha, so we've had the casual exchange here and there.

Do you use Messenger a lot? Yes, it's the most-used messaging platform where I'm from; literally everyone I know save for my tech-averse grandma has a Messenger handle and is active there.

What is the last thing you posted/shared? It was a meme, but the punchline is so Filipino core I won't even bother sharing it here hahaha.

According to your Facebook memories, what did you post last year? I shared news about the Titan submarine that imploded.

What groups are you in? So many. The ones I'm most active on though is a group that shares food recos, two that are about dogs, and two for BTS stuff.

FOOD

What’s the last thing you ate? A Milo doughnut :D

How about drank? Coffee that my sister treated us to.

Do you have plans for dinner tonight? Not at all, I'm beat after moving around nonstop for two days. I haven't even recovered from our Vietnam trip and then we had to organize a party from scratch this weekend haha. I want nothing more than just rot in my room before work starts again tomorrow.

Do you have any food allergies? I don't, fortunately.

Are you on a diet? Nope.

What’s the last fast food place you went to? We drove-thru Burger King two days ago while en route to Tagaytay.

What foreign cuisines do you enjoy? Korean, Thai, Malaysian, Indian.

What is your least favorite fruit? Mango or banana.

How many meals have you had today, so far? Two.

What side dishes do you love? Coleslaw, fries, any kind of bread.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

572 of 2023

survey by chihuahua

1~ What quality do you value most highly in others?

Determination, hard work, being genuine.

2~ Are you more aggressive or mellow?

Neither, or maybe in between.

3~ Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you?

Can't think of anyone, seriously.

4~ Do you take any vitamins or medication?

Yeah, epilepsy medication twice a day. It works as long as I don't trigger myself with caffeine.

5~ Do you want to grow old with someone?

Yup, that's one of the reasons why we married.

7~ What sound is annoying you right now?

Nothing at the moment.

8~ Where was your last vacation to?

We're in Poland right now.

9~ Where was your last car ride to?

One city located about 60 kilometres from the place we're staying in.

10~ Where did you last walk to?

To the cemetery.

11~ What gives you a peaceful feeling?

Sea waves, the sun, the beach, cats purring, overcast, thunderstorms.

12~ Are you a light sleeper?

Seems like that. I remember my dreams most of the time.

13~ When you sleep next to someone who usually falls asleep first?

My husband. He starts snoring before I start falling asleep.

14~ How many people have a piece of your heart?

Too many. I'm full of love.

15~ What do your salt and pepper shakers look like?

We don't use such things.

16~ When was the last time you hurt yourself?

Involuntarily? Not that long ago. Voluntarily? Years ago.

17~ Would you rather live in the city, suburbs or the country?

Suburbs because it's close to the city and close to the country.

18~ Have you ever built something?

Haha yeah. I build trains for living.

19~ Are you more of a maker and giver, or a taker and user?

Maker and giver, definitely.

20~ Do you take naps?

No, it feels like a waste of a day. Unless I'm really tired.

21~ Do you buy holiday gifts early or at the last minute?

Last minute, unless I find something earlier.

22~ Do you laugh when there is no joke and dance when there is no music?

Laugh yes, dance no.

23~ If someone else were to describe you what would you hope they would say?

Funny and caring. And smart.

24~ What is the dirtiest habit you can think of?

Purging ED behaviours? I don't know.

25~ Do you ever need ‘quiet time’?

Yeah, sometimes. But I need to be around people, too.

26~ Do you think it is harder for a parent to outlive their child or for th

?

27~ What was your best find from a flea market, garage sale, ebay or thrift?

I love to go to the flea markets, but I never buy anything there.

28~ What is one selfish thing you tend to do?

Travele by myself.

29~ What kinds of people do you find intimidating?

People who are intimidating. What else is there to say?

30~ Out of everyone you know who has the most unique personality?

My husband. Definitely a unique man.

31~ When do you do your best thinking?

On the toilet. No kidding.

32~ What was a choice that you didn’t want to make but you had to?

I had to put one of my previous cats to sleep. She was very ill.

33~ Have you ever written a letter to a soldier?

Yeah. It's just a detail that I was in a relationship with this soldier. We're still close friends.

34~ What does your favorite coffee mug look like?

That one with the logo of my company on it.

35~ What age do you think it is most difficult to be?

Age doesn't matter when you're chronically ill.

36~ Do you think you could handle a day in jail?

I don't think so. People, ew.

37~ Who is the most overbearing person you know?

Thankfully he's not around anymore.

38~ Have you ever been on a trampoline?

No, but I'm not interested anyway.

39~ What do you use batteries for the most often?

The wireless mouse for my laptop.

40~ Would you prefer to wrap your own presents or have them all gift wrapped?

Answered this so many times already. It's a big challenge for my disabled hand.

[commander-kirschtein]

attack on titan social media headcanons

how i think the 104th would use social media in a modern!au (includes eren, mikasa, armin, jean, marco, sasha, connie, historia, ymir, bertholdt, reiner & annie) - mac

masterlist

eren jaeger:

most used app: snapchat

still does streaks on snapchat - over 600 day streak with jean and to keep it going they just send insults to each other.

has the most cracked screen, it’s literally hanging together but he refuses to get a new screen until it no longer works.

would leave the house with 14% battery (this makes me incredibly nervous but eren knows he’ll be able to charm his way into someone giving him their charger.)

mikasa ackerman:

most used app: instagram or tumblr

mikasa should be hired by the fbi or something - give her a name and she will find all their social media pages.

i’m not sure what it would be but she’s definitely part of a fandom of a tv series or music group which is why she spends so much time on tumblr.

unlike eren, she actually has a case to prevent her screen from smashing - it would probably be one of those clear ones with flowers on the back, and she’d put in a polaroid picture of her and her friends in the back of it.

armin arlert:

most used app: youtube

he hasn’t got many posts on his instagram but a few of some pretty landscapes and a couple of group photos of him and his friends. his profile picture is of him, eren & mikasa.

literally could spend all day on wikipedia. he goes to google something but then falls down a rabbit hole. 

vsauce? asap science? random reddit videos? sign armin tf up. 

jean kirstein:

most used app: twitter or spotify

does gaming live-streams with eren. people watch not to see gameplay but to see the entertainment that is jean and eren’s competitive arguing (they play a lot of call of duty, mario kart, but also minecraft when they’re actually on good terms with each other)

gets into heated arguments with people on twitter. they go on forever because jean likes to have the last word/tweet.

you know those people that always have their headphones in? jean is that kind of person. he’d be sneakily listening to music during class (let’s be real he’s definitely got airpods.)

marco bodt:

most used app: instagram (& whatsapp because he’s in a lot of group chats)

the best hype man. comments on all of his friends selfies telling them how gorgeous they look.

he sends motivational quotes and wholesome memes to all of his friends which are always appreciated.

marco’s the one to put together group chats and ensure that arguments in them are smoothly resolved (eren and jean are usually the culprits.)

sasha braus:

most used app: tiktok

definitely makes very chaotic tiktoks/tweets that just blow up and end up on popular pages that repost to instagram.

her and connie would spam group chats with memes and selfies with stupid filters on. sometimes they’ll just target one person in particular (always jean) and they end up getting kicked or blocked.

her instagram captions tend to be random quotes and inside jokes from her friends (mainly connie) much to the confusion of everyone else.

connie springer:

most used app: instagram

has a private account on instagram just to post embarrassing pictures of his friends.

goes into conspiracy theory facebook groups just to troll the people in them.

out of everyone, the most likely to have games on his phone. when he’s bored in the car or during class he’ll just start playing geometry dash or temple run.

historia reiss:

most used app: tiktok

you know she’s got a tiktok with 100k followers. tiktok dance trends, makeup tutorials, look books - she does it all.

loves pinterest so much. gets a lot of outfit/home decor ideas from it - it’s likely that there’s a ton of photos of her on pinterest as outfit inspiration.

types !! like !! this !! and uses these emojis: ✨🌸💖🥰 way too much.

ymir:

most used app: facetime

half the time she’s on her phone is going to spent spent facetiming historia i can’t lie.

i personally hc that ymir in a modern!au would play either the bass or drums and i can just see historia begging to post a tiktok of her playing that then blows up - ymir would be so nonchalant about it but inside she’s dying of excitement.

probably has every group chat she’s in on mute - occasionally will lurk to see what’s going on, would only ever join in the conversation if drama was going down in which she’d send a gif of someone eating popcorn.

bertholdt hoover:

most used app: youtube or discord

likes to watch those reddit story time videos. would spend a good few hours watching them without even realising what the time is.

has 0 posts on instagram. cannot do any insta stalking of him (unless you looked through his tagged photos and find the ONE selfie he ever took with reiner.)

does a lot of gaming and uses discord to talk to his gamer friends (probably plays more story based/quest games compared to eren and jean - maybe like the last of us & skyrim!!)

reiner braun:

most used app: instagram

at least two shirtless pictures of him on his instagram (and way more if you’re on his private snapchat story - he likes to make it known that he’s at the gym. )

uses ‘lmao’ so much to the point he says it out loud not just over text

for some reason these emojis (👍👏👋💪) make me think of reiner ?? instead of replying ‘okay’ or ‘bye’ you just get ‘👍👍’ or ‘👋👋’

annie leonhardt:

most used app: spotify

follows so many cat accounts, she’s considering making her own to post pictures of her cat.

out of everyone, likely to be the person who uses social media/her phone the least, it probably overwhelms her quite a bit so unless she’s messaging someone (or looking at cats,) it’s unlikely to see annie on her phone.

does listen to a lot of music on spotify though - she’s got a study playlist, a playlist for when she’s at the gym, songs to listen when she’s just chilling at home - her spotify wrapped every year is pretty impressive.

BONUS:

spotify or apple music?

spotify: jean, mikasa, bertholdt, ymir, reiner, annie, sasha, historia

apple music: eren, armin, marco, connie

who sends memes into group chats?

eren, jean, sasha, connie, reiner

how long do they take to reply to messages?

replies instantly: marco, historia, sasha, connie, reiner

leaves you unopened for 3 days but then replies: eren, jean, mikasa, armin, bertholdt

leaves you on read: ymir, annie

who has the highest screen time?

eren, historia, sasha

[heartcal]

“who do you believe?”; l.h. (pt. ii)

oh my GOD it’s here, it took longer than expected but she’s finally here! after the eye strain i got a sty so that threw me in for a loop, but the good news is my eyes are better! and i’m fully vaccinated too! please get the vaccine if you are able to :^) enjoy!

a/n: (formatting again lol) there’s a part where there’s supposed to be texts (in italics) so it may be a bit weird to read (hopefully not) (sorry for these parantheses) please let me know if there’s anything off!

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

warnings: swearing (as usual), 

genre: angst, fluff, basically friends (to brief enemies but not really) to lovers?

wc: 5,201 (they’re getting longer, huh)

taglist: @1sosrvd1267 + @wowitsel (side note: i don’t have a current taglist, this is just for this fic!)

part one | my masterlist!

You skipped the after-party that night. You couldn’t bear standing in the same room as Luke and Rachel, so you booked a ride and left as soon as the car pulled up.

Had you stayed for the party, you would have crumbled under the looks of pity thrown at you by those who would have heard about what happened. The knowing looks that something bad had happened between two people everyone on the crew knew were best friends would have been uncomfortable.

The ride home is uncomfortably silent, but you were thankful the driver wasn’t the talkative type. The soft jazz playing on the radio wasn’t calming but it did distract you from the pain and embarrassment you felt from the argument.

Once the car had pulled up to your place, you bid a silent farewell to the driver and slid out.

You just wanted to get inside, take a shower, shut your phone for the night, and sleep until you physically can’t get any more sleep.

You’re not too surprised Luke stood up for his girlfriend. He does love her—he’s shown that with friends and with fans. But the way he glared at you, defended her without trying to find out what exactly went down…he had never looked at you like that.

You’ve seen that look before; it wasn’t something you were used to but it was the look he would give paparazzi when they would harass you, the guys, and his friends. The glare carried such strength that it would make people back off. And so when it was directed towards you, it struck you hard.

Having done what you wanted to do once you entered the house, you lay in bed with wet eyes staring at the ceiling. Your phone was face down on your nightstand, completely out of reach to the point one slight touch could knock it off.

Maybe you were the one at fault. Maybe you should’ve told the truth about your feelings to Rachel or Luke before this all happened. It could have prevented the fallout and you would be with the guys and the crew celebrating a successful show.

But what good would that have done? Had you told someone, anyone, that you liked Luke more than a best friend should, would that have caused the same problem but presented differently? Or would something come from it? Maybe nothing would have happened.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn your back away from the nightstand, facing the empty half of the bed and before your mind drifts to more pitiful thoughts, you close your eyes.

You didn’t dream that night. It’s as if you blinked, with the night flying by faster than you had wanted and anticipated.

The sunlight beamed down on you from above your headboard. It was late morning and it was time to face the harsh reality of the day.

There is no doubt you have lost Luke as your best friend.

Wiping the sleep and crust from your eyes, you sit up and vacantly glance around the room. The box where you keep gifts from Luke is illuminated by the sunlight, and with the vacant stare you stand to walk towards it.

You hesitate to open it; it’ll bring back memories of good times and with the events of the previous night, you do not think you can handle the rush of emotions.

It’s then when you realize your phone was off, and though you don’t want to do anything social today and would rather stay home with your favorite snacks and shows, you know you have to let your friends know how you’re doing.

You stall by washing your face and brushing your teeth, albeit slower than usual. You know that once you turn your phone on, the onslaught of questions and missed calls are going to take possibly an hour to clear up.

Sure enough, as you turn your phone on, the missed messages come in, barely giving your notification tone a break and the missed calls and voicemails were coming in fast. You can feel the heat from the battery on your palm, and for the sake of the phone you switch the sound off and turn on Do Not Disturb to prevent any new calls from coming through.

The messages you saw were from the crew, asking where you went and if you were okay. Others were from the boys minus Luke, and looking through the missed calls, there was nothing from Luke.

You’re not surprised, but the pain was still simmering within and seeing no messages or missed calls from him was adding to it.

You responded to the crew’s messages first, since many of them sent one or two messages asking simple questions: “Are you okay,” “Where did you go,” and “Did you get home safe?”

Then you responded to the boys’, Michael’s first since he had the least amount of messages.

hey, you didn’t have to leave. we could’ve talked some sense into him when he calmed down (11:37pm)

did u get home okay? we know you didn’t drive here yourself. (11:58pm)

please let us know you made it home. let us know you’re okay (12:10am)

hope you made it home and that you’re safe and okay. thank u for ur work today. please text me when you see these. goodnight (12:49am)

You typed your reply to him, letting him know that you were okay and got home safe.

Calum’s messages were similar, asking the same questions but some were repeated to emphasize his worry. In response, you answered his questions like Michael’s.

But even before you can open Ashton’s messages, seeing double digits next to your conversation with him, rapid knocks on your front door grab your attention.

With a groan you stand and grab your robe from the hook on the door, wrapping it tightly around your body as you open the door and groggily walk to the front door.

It was a stupid idea, as you weren’t ready to face anyone yet Ashton stands in front of you. He’s well-rested, a stark contrast to you as you were sure your eyes were still puffy and bloodshot, along with an occasional sniffle from your nose.

His eyes travel from your face, down to your feet, and back up to your eyes. He can immediately tell you had a terrible night.

“You weren’t answering anyone last night,” he begins, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, “we were worried about you after you left.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I just—I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“You could’ve let one of us know that you were shutting off.”

You nodded with a frown, “I could have, yeah,” your eyes dart around behind him to avoid his worrisome eyes before asking him if he wanted to come in.

He doesn’t hesitate and steps in once you move aside, opening the door wider to give him enough room. He notes your bag in a heap on the floor a few inches away from the couch, and how your shoes were far apart, with one upside down, as if you flung them off.

“How are you holding up now?”

You shrug, still avoiding his eyes because you know if you make eye contact, you’ll break down and you won’t have control over the onslaught of emotions.

“Be honest,” his voice is soft, wanting to make you feel comfortable enough to open up.

You stare at the ground, biting the skin of your lower lip nervously. This is why you did not want to talk to anyone face-to-face. Talking to them over the phone, preferably through text, allowed you to lie to the other person (and if applicable, to yourself). But talking to someone in person, and to someone who can see through your lies, you were bound to break down and become vulnerable.

You inhale, taking careful steps to the couch and gently sitting down with a sigh. Ashton follows you, sitting next to you but giving you space to not overwhelm you.

“What happened last night—,” you lean back with your arms folded over your chest, “—was something that I feared. When I realized I liked Luke, I was so worried about him finding out and what the outcome would be. I knew from the beginning that things would never be the same if he found out, and I was afraid of the change that would come from it.”

Ashton listens intently, his eyes displaying sincerity as he listens to you list off your worries. What he saw last night bothered him to no end, and had he not exerted most of his energy during the show, he would not have slept at all and would have stayed up all night in a constant state of worry.

“So, now that Rachel knows, and no doubt Luke has caught on, I don’t know what to do. I responded to everyone’s texts before you arrived, and Luke sent nothing—not even a phone call.”

Ashton nods, swallowing before speaking, “Well, after you left, things went down that may be the reason why he hasn’t tried contacting you.”

Your head turns to face him, eyebrows furrowed as confusion embeds itself across the rest of your features.

Ashton readjusts himself, getting comfortable in his seat as he gathers the right words.

“Something happened after I left?” You ask as you shift in your seat to face him.

“Michael wanted to go after you, to at least offer you a ride back, but Calum went back to tell Luke that it was bullshit what happened. So, Michael went back to make sure they wouldn’t fight or anything. I also pointed out that he was a dick; choosing you over her when he’s known you the longest didn’t sit right with us. But he got defensive and kept wanting to leave but Rachel convinced him it was alright, so they stayed for the party. But the party was bad—the crew felt the tension and the vibes were down—,” he chuckles at the word choice, getting a small laugh out of you as well, “—it brought everyone out of the energetic and ecstatic mood we were in before the confrontation. We all kinda did our own thing during the party but we noticed things were tense between Luke and Rachel. And when the party ended, shit hit the fan.”

“What happened?”

Ashton sighs, “To make the long story short, they got into an argument when we were leaving the venue after Michael brought up your name. He said something like, ‘I hope they got home safe,’ and that you weren’t answering your phone at all. Calum and I pointed out, again, how rude Luke was to you and Luke kept defending himself. Rachel dropped an insult and something shifted. Basically, they’re done and the guys and I can finally fucking breathe.”

“Wait—,” you stand with bulging eyes, “—wait, are you saying they broke up?”

Ashton hums as he watches you mindlessly walk around your living room.

The guys have been waiting for their break-up. It’s not something they were open about, as to avoid any conflict with their best friend, but it was almost an unspoken agreement: Rachel was not liked.

As for you, it’s not like you were wishing for their break-up. You wanted Luke to be happy, and if he was happy in that relationship, then so be it. But you were not a fan of it. Yeah, you liked her in the beginning but when she started disregarding you as if you did something to offend her, you lost most of your respect for her. Now, with this news of their break-up, you don’t know what to do.

Are you happy? You don’t exactly feel happy about it, but there is some relief.

“So,” you sit back down on the couch slowly, “what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“Not sure,” Ashton shrugs, “but I recommend talking to Luke.”

You shake your head fervently, “No. I don’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“But you’re talking to me,” Ashton has a smirk, but you know there’s no malice behind his joke.

“You showed up unannounced, Ash,” you smile, “I was responding to everyone who sent messages and voicemails. I don’t feel like talking to anyone else in person.”

He holds his hands up in defense, “Fair enough, but don’t be a stranger.”

He gives you a quick hug, whispering something similar to ‘don’t shut Luke out’ before he pulls away and walks out.

Ashton’s words stuck with you for the next week. You felt comfortable enough a few days after the fact to contact the boys, eventually meeting up with Ashton and Calum for lunch and third-wheeling Michael and his fiancée. The only person out of your friend group and co-workers you have not contacted was Luke. He hasn’t contacted you either, but you do not think much about it as you’re still trying to figure things out. If he were to contact you, how do you talk about what happened?

You want to know why he was able to choose his then-girlfriend over you, but at the same time you don’t want to know the answer. You know that one day, and though it hurts, you will not be his number one. With the way he behaved that night, it felt like that dreadful moment came to earlier than expected, that he found his number one and you immediately became his second go-to person.

So it did surprise you when you were out with an old friend to receive a text from Luke.

Can we talk about what happened? (2:23pm)

You only stare blankly at the text, not even moving to type a response. You were in such a good mood, and not even this text would change it. Instead, you lock your phone and place it back in your pocket, noting to leave it alone until your day out comes to an end.

And when it does, you see that more texts from Luke had arrived, the final being sent an hour before the outing ended.

I know you’re mad, I understand that and I don’t blame you but please talk to me (2:31pm)

You’re reading these, please say something (2:33pm)

There are some things that I need to clear up with you, I want to apologize for what happened that night but I want to do it face to face. Please respond. (3:57pm)

Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. Sorry if I’m bombarding you with these texts, I just don’t want to lose you over something that I realize now should not have happened. Respond when you want to, I’ll be here. (5:49pm)

You could only let out a small chuckle at the persistent requests to talk, and you don’t deny the small—minuscule, honestly—flutter in your stomach. You don’t waste any time responding.

Sorry, I was busy. We can meet somewhere to talk. (7:08pm)

He responds about five minutes later, agreeing to meet at a small café the two of you love tomorrow afternoon.

The rest of the night for you is spent thinking of ways to carry yourself, being completely confident, and accepting the fact that you love your best friend. Pep talks in the shower and mirror to calm any arising nerves, revising the topics you want to talk about in your head so you keep the confidence.

As for Luke, he was struggling to gather all his thoughts. In the beginning, he thoroughly enjoyed the fact that you and Rachel got along. He liked seeing his best friend and girlfriend become friends like that. He didn’t notice the shift, however, and he wishes he did before things got out of hand.

When he defended Rachel, without finding out the story from all sides, he thought he was doing what was right. To him, friendships and relationships have the same base, but romantic relationships with a partner have a different structure than friendships do, and he was starting to see cracks in his friendship before he saw it in his relationship.

When he confronted Rachel after she insulted you, he started to see someone he never saw. He remembered the times Rachel ignored you, sometimes playing it off as if she never heard you. He remembered how she would make plans with everyone and exclude you, but he always played it off as an accident (even if he knew it wasn’t). He remembered all these times he noticed a change in mood when the two of you were in the same room, and he couldn’t believe he turned a blind eye to all of it.

It hurt him to break-up with Rachel—he won’t deny that because he did love her. It’s not that he saw the rest of his life with her as they weren’t at that mark in the relationship.

But, when he did picture his future, he always saw you. He always thought it was just as a friend, someone who was just joined at the hip. Yet, he was quick to throw that away for someone he rarely saw when he pictured the future.

Which is why, the next day, as he sits at a booth near the window of the café, he carefully goes over what he wants to say. He doesn’t want to ruin the chance to fix things between the two of you. If it goes awry, not only does he lose you, but his friendships with the band and the team will take a hit since they all love you.

The bell above the door rings making his head turn to watch you walk in. Your eyes danced around the café before they fell on him.

He couldn’t help the smile the formed on his lips, a small breath of relief escaping as he watches you walk towards him. The smile doesn’t stay long though, because as you sit down with a stoic expression, the reality hits him.

“I got your usual,” he’s shy and timid, pushing the mug toward you as he eyes the liquid nearly spills the edge.

You mumble a ‘thanks,’ grabbing the mug and taking a small sip. It falls silent as the two of you wonder who should start first.

Luke makes the move first. He sighs, sitting up straight and wiping his palms on his pants.

He’s nervous. When the guys started touring, visiting new cities and countries, he would always be nervous and constantly wiped his hands on his thighs, sitting up straight and even straighter if he wasn’t slouching. It’s an old habit, but something you remember fondly as he had grown out of it. Or so you thought.

“I want to start with I’m sorry,” he begins, making eye contact but fails to hold it. His eyes instead drift to his drink, “I know what I did was wrong, and I put you in a spot that hurt you and disregarded you. At the moment, I thought I was doing the right thing because she was my girlfriend, but then—” he gulps, “when she insulted you, it struck a nerve and, not to sound cliché or anything, it felt like it opened my eyes. I saw someone I didn’t see when I first met them.”

You don’t respond, just nodding your head to let him know you’re listening.

He licks his lips before continuing, “When the guys brought up how you left on your own, I was feeling nervous and they started reminding me how much of a dick I was to you. I didn’t want to admit it myself, but now, I was such an ass. I’m just—I’m so sorry for what happened.”

“Luke,” you sigh, shifting in your seat, “I’m not saying I forgive you but I accept your apology. It hurt me so much that a friend, someone I’ve known for years was just so quick to turn their back and take someone else’s side. I know she was your girlfriend, but I wish you didn’t do what you did.”

“If I could go back and fix it, I would.”

You only nod again, trying to think about other things that need to be talked about. The one topic you hope to avoid is the possibility of him knowing your feelings—something you do not want to discuss, at least not yet.

“Did she say anything to you?”

The question leaves your mouth before you register it, and the widening of your eyes catches Luke off guard.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, grabbing your mug and taking a long sip.

“She didn’t tell me what started the problems between you two, if that’s what you mean,” Luke smiles a bit, watching you nervously play with the mug’s handle after the sip. It fades when your eyes move up to meet his, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but it isn’t important anymore. She’s out of the picture, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The silence returns, but unlike the previous bout, it’s a calming silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the air is easier to breathe and the tension isn’t unsettling.

“Where do we go from here?” Luke asks, nervously wringing his fingers.

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Luke,” you offer a smile, “but it’s going to take some time to ‘heal,’ if you will.”

Luke smiles again, this time a bigger grin. He nods, leaning back in his seat, “Let me know what I can do to make things better. I’ll do it if I get to keep you.”

Over the next few months, your friendship with Luke was rekindled. The guys were at ease now that Rachel was gone and you seemingly had taken her place, even though you were friends. The awkward glances they would give when Rachel was in the same room were now playful rolls of the eyes over a dumb joke or pranks. You didn’t miss out on any outings you wanted to go to, now that everyone invited would check in with each other the night before. Things went back to the way they were before Rachel.

There was a change in your friendship, however. It wasn’t something you noticed right away, but it was something you thought about at night just a few weeks ago. Luke paid more attention to you, not that he didn’t pay attention before, but this was a noticeable change where he still looks at you even after you finished talking, and would only look away from you when you caught him. He would always cover his mouth with his index and middle finger, but you saw a small smile behind them. You played it off as friendly teasing, but it tugs on your heartstrings.

Another noticeable change is the hugs. Duration-wise, they were relatively the same. However the touch lingered; if he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, an arm would stay around your shoulder, meanwhile if they were around your waist, his hand would stay on the small of your back. You played it off as a friend being protective, but yet again, it did nothing to stop your growing love.

Tonight was the first night of their tour. The boys were up to their usual pre-show antics, as well as the nervous habits; Michael fixing his hair and deciding whether to go with a beanie or a hat, or neither, Ashton was warming up with his pre-show playlist, Calum testing his bass, and Luke was relatively fine.

Sure, he was nervous because it isn’t a crowd of 500, close to 20,000, but he was calm compared to the last time he performed. He didn’t have any worries to talk about, his vocal warm-ups were smooth, and getting dressed up was a breeze. He shared chuckles with you as you both watched the others move around with tense expressions (all with no malice, of course).

“You sure you’re not on edge?�� you nudge Luke with your arm as he leans forward on the couch your sitting on to fix his shoe.

“Nope,” he sits up, leaning back in his seat.

“Really?” you inquire again, doubt laced in your tone with a hint of teasing.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “if anything I’m excited about tonight.”

You hum, crossing your arms as you watch Ashton walk over.

“Ten minutes left,” he nods at Luke before walking to Michael to tell him the same thing.

You give Luke a look, wanting to get him to admit he is nervous, but all you get is a smirk and a shrug. He stands, patting your shoulder left before walking away to put in his in-ears.

You won’t deny you still don’t have feelings for him. Throughout the past few months, you were able to pinpoint the reasons why you fell for him. The small acts, the obscure things he would remember about you—especially the ones you don’t remember yourself—with the attention he would give you. It was staring you in the face, but you chose to deny all the signals to give yourself the satisfaction of thinking it was just a phase. But now you know why you love him.

Two minutes until showtime, Ashton finishes his speech and the crew is taking their places. The band stands at the opening, waiting for their cue to head out.

As you watched them hype themselves up, you noticed Luke looking around nervously. Of course.

“Nervous?”

His head whips toward you, and you can see it in his eyes.

“A little,” he mumbles, but you don’t hear it over the crowd’s excited screams.

“You got this,” you grab his shoulders to make him look you in the eyes, “like Ash said, you guys worked your asses off for this album. The fans loved it, your shows are all sold out, and you have thousands out there waiting to see you kill it.”

He’s silent, blue eyes staring into yours as they bounce from one eye to the other.

“I love you,” he blurts, loud enough just for you to hear.

You freeze, the grip on his shoulder loosens but remain.

He notices, “She did tell me something that night, and whether or not it’s true, I-I love you.”

“Sixty seconds!” a stage recites in the earpieces.

The boys turn to look at both of you, curious eyes turn into surprise as they watch your expression.

“I don’t know how long, I don’t know when, and I don’t know what it was, but I know for sure.”

Your eyes glance at Ashton briefly, not missing the knowing smile he gives you before you look back into Luke’s eyes.

“I…love you, too,” you respond, gripping his shoulders while your eyes drop down to his shiny shoes.

He doesn’t hear you over the cheers and screams, but reading your lips he knows the answer.

Luke smiles, grabbing the back of your head and kissing your forehead.

He leans down to your ear, “I expect to hear you say it when I come back.”

With flashing lights scattering across the stage, the boys run out to the stage, big smiles gracing their faces for multiple reasons with adrenaline pumping through their veins. From backstage, you watch the show you a smile, feeling high from the brief but fulfilling confession.

It’s two hours later when the show ends. Your heart is pounding as you watch the crew celebrate the successful first show.

Luke pulls you away from the crowd, into the hallway and away from the noise.

“So it was true, what Rachel said?” Luke begins, his hand still holding yours as a shy smile forms.

“What did she say?”

He exhales air through his nose in a laugh, “She said you were in love with me, and that you were trying to break us up.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you look at your intertwined fingers. He squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“I doubt that last part, but the first part I’m hoping is true in a sense.”

Your eyes meet his, adoration swimming in them bringing a smile to your face, “There may be a strong crush I have on you,” you tease, “and it may or may not have turned into love.”

He laughs, letting go of your hand to wrap you in a hug. His head dips down, his forehead on your shoulder as he breathes in your scent. He moves slightly, whispering in your ear, “Say it.”

Your head rested against his chest, hearing his heart beat rapidly and rhythmically.

“I love you,” you whisper.

You feel him smile against your shoulder before he pulls away, his arms resting on your hips as he smiles down at you.

“If you’d like,” he begins, his tone timid now, “that place you like in Seattle has a new dish. It’s our next stop…” he drifts off, hoping you’d catch on to him asking you out.

You do, laughing at how he remembered yet another thing you seem to have forgotten. It was a themed restaurant that had some of the best food you’ve ever eaten, and for days you wouldn’t stop talking about it. But you never went back to it, even during breaks, but somehow he seemed to remember.

“Yes, Luke.”

You know the shock will hit you later that night, that finally the person you’ve fallen for, who happens to be your best friend, admitted his feelings to you. But you’re happy, Luke’s happy, and with the boys’ and crew’s reaction to the two of you walking back to the area where they’re celebrating, the happiness is infectious.

On the road in the tour bus, Ashton passes you as you respond to emails.

“Thanks for not shutting him out,” he says, drinking a small bottle of water from the fridge.

“Did you know?”

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes as he finishes the bottle and tosses it in the recycling bag. “Maybe,” he walks towards the back where the beds are, “maybe not.”

You shake your head, “You did.”

“Didn’t want to spoil it,” he gives you a quick hug before retreating to bed.

Luke walks out of the bathroom shortly after, taking his spot next to you.

“Go to bed,” you slightly shift your shoulder as he lays his head on it, “you need the rest.”

“No,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his tone, “feels like a dream. Don’t wanna wake up.”

You chuckle at his nonsense, finishing off the last email before shutting the laptop and placing it on the counter next to you. You adjust yourself on the couch to have Luke lay down with you. He readjusts himself so he doesn’t crush you, wrapping his arm around your waist and placing his head on your chest.

“I wish I had known before all the drama,” he mumbles again, eyes closed, “I want you in my life, always.”

He drifts off to sleep with that, a faint smile on his lips.

You know what made you fall in love with your best friend. You accept it now, and you’re at peace knowing the feeling is mutual.

[killjoyhistoryarchive]

Mike Milligram: The Lost Killjoy

Edit: On July 21st 2020, a Mike Milligram comic by Gerard Way and Shaun Simon was officially announced. However, I’ll leave this post as it is for future reference.

—

In 2009, while My Chemical Romance fans were eagerly awaiting news on their upcoming album, Gerard Way had another surprise in store: the announcement of a new comic series called “Killjoys.”

Co-written by Shaun Simon and illustrated by Becky Cloonan, Gerard told CBR that the series would “deal with much more mature and controversial themes, such as hate crimes and homophobia, the homogenization of American culture and American life.” Unlike “The Umbrella Academy,” which was set in a fantasy world, “Killjoys” was set in modern-day America.

But what nobody realized was that even after an album, two music videos, and a six-issue comic series, Gerard’s original conception would never see the light of day.

In 2008, Gerard Way and Shaun Simon developed the Killjoys universe in a frenzy of inspiration. Gerard’s original sketch features Mike Milligram on the left–named after Gerard’s brother Mikey Way–with a host of other characters that accompanied Mike on his journey. The comic was announced a year later at San Diego Comic Con, with a release planned in 2010.

With My Chemical Romance wrapping up their fourth album, Gerard and Shaun were ready to start writing. Becky Cloonan drew concept art for Mike Milligram, as well as promotional artwork that they planned to use at the Comic Con announcement. However, the Mike Milligram art was scrapped and replaced with a simple image of the Killjoy spider–a move that could later be seen as prophetic.

In 2009, “Killjoys” was an entirely different concept. There was no Party Poison, no Dr. Death Defying, no Battery City, no girl with special powers. The original comic involved a surreal road trip through America that reunited offbeat characters and confronted harsh realities along the way. In 2013, Shaun Simon offered this description in the introduction to the special hardcover edition of the comics:

The old version of the story focused on Mike Milligram, a late-twenty-something living in a desert trailer park and working a crappy job at a supermarket. Mike’s teenage years were a blur. He couldn’t tell if the things he remembered had actually happened or not. Part of him believed he was part of a gang called the Killjoys who fought fictional things in the real world. The other part of him believed it was all just a dream. Music was the only thing that kept Mike going, so when the music was erased from his Ramones tape, it sent him over the edge. He went out and got his old teenage gang, who were now living normal lives, back together because, yes, it was all real. Other members of his gang included Ani-Max, now a high school history teacher; Code Blue, a rabble-rouser who was a working girl in Vegas; Monster, a new young member they met on the road; and Kyle 100%, who was a B-list actor now. They all had strange powers based on objects. Halloween masks and costume accessories, puffy jackets, toy ray guns. It was a story about a group of old friends getting together and discovering what America really was. Reaching deep inside its pretty facade and pulling out the ugly guts. (It was semiautobiographical. I toured with Gerard and his band for a couple of years before realizing I needed to find my own path.) The gang would have found out that another former gang had now become the largest health care corporation in the country and were hell bent on making the world a safe and clean place by removing all that was dirty, like the Ramones. It would have been a great story, and I’m sure parts will end up in Gerard’s and my’s future work.

Of course, we all know what happened after that announcement. After Gerard took a fateful week-long trip to the desert, MCR decided to scrap “Conventional Weapons” and fueled their energy into writing “Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.” But even as Gerard delved into this new post-apocalyptic version of the Killjoy universe, the comics remained the same. As late as 2011, Gerard claimed in an interview with Artrocker that the comics hadn’t changed at all:

No, none of the characters, even our characters, are in it. It is a completely separate thing, even almost a separate setting. It shares all the ideals behind the record and the theories and the commentary but it is nothing like the videos you have seen. I think the car is probably the only thing that’s the same!

But as the band took on more responsibilities–filming music videos, promoting the album, going on tour–the comics kept getting pushed back. First the release planned for 2010; then it was pushed back to 2011. And while the era had kicked off without a hitch, MCR eventually hit one of the first of many roadblocks: they didn’t have enough money to film the third video. So as Shaun Simon told CBR, the original story featuring Mike Milligram was scrapped, and replaced with the story of the girl and the Ultra Vs:

[A]fter the record, Gerard had built this whole world around the Killjoys. When it came time for the comic, Gerard called me up and said, “We ran out of money. We wanted to make the third video, but we don’t have the money. So do you want to make the idea for that video into a comic?” We started talking about ideas, and we had so many that it turned into this whole series.

In an interview with Paste (2013), Gerard went into more detail about the process:

The deal is that I had written three videos (“Na Na Na,” “Sing,” and “The Only Hope For Me Is You”), and the third video had never gotten made. By the time we had completed the second video, we just ran out of budget money. At the time, somebody was managing us and not keeping an eye on this stuff. Long story short, there was no budget. So I wrote a video, and of course it ends up being the most expensive one, as the last part would usually be. But we couldn’t make it! Killjoys started its life as a very different comic. It was heavily-rooted in nineties Vertigo post-modernism. There’s a lot of very cool, abstract ideas in it; I wouldn’t even call it a superhero book. That (comic) was a visual and thematic inspiration on what would become the album Danger Days. It was pretty loose, though. This was going to be my interpretation of the story, so there’s way more science fiction involved. And what I need to say to the world needed to be a little more direct, so I boiled it down to something that’s still very smart and challenging, but I thought was definitely easier to understand through song or visual. Then (Killjoys artist) Becky Cloonan drew a 7-inch for “The Only Hope For Me Is You,” which was going to be the last video single. I realized I was out of budget, so I said ‘just make this the girl from the first and second video at 15. And have her shave her head or chop her hair off like in The Legend of Billie Jean, because that’s how the video was supposed to start.’ So (Cloonan) sends this drawing over and I’m on tour with Blink 182 in a hotel on an off day. I get this drawing and I’m so immediately blown away by it. I call Shaun, my co-writer and co-creator, and I say ‘open your email, I’m going to send you something.’ I ask him ‘how does this image make you feel?’ We talked for two hours. By the end of the conversation we both realized that that image was the comic, and the third video was basically the comic. So we figured how we were going to make this interesting and exciting for six issues and complete the story. And that was the final direction. It was pretty obvious to us.

In a way, Mike Milligram’s spirit lived on, as fans noticed the similarities between Mike Milligram and Party Poison. But it’s inaccurate to say that Mike Milligram became Party Poison, though “Party Poison’s real name is Mike Milligram” became a persistent rumor in the fandom. Mike’s story was not Poison’s; he wasn’t a post-apocalyptic rebel, but a teenager searching for his identity in modern America.

Will Mike Milligram’s story ever be told? At this point, it’s not likely. But his tale offers a glimpse into the creative minds of Gerard Way and Shaun Simon, and makes us ponder the fact that with a few changes–the comics being released earlier, for instance, or MCR having the money to fund the third video–the comics could have been entirely different.

[philsservice]

Wondering what are the symptoms of a bad car battery? If you are experiencing starting problems or weak lights, it may be time for a car battery replacement.

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 17: Royality

@tsshipmonth2020 (does this still count so late?)

What’s that? Ly creating content? Unbelievable. (I have writer’s block, leave me alooone /j)

Thanks to @marshymoop for suggestions and encouragment when making this bad boy! Love ya <3

Day 17 - Everyone has heterochromia, one eye is your natural color the other is your soulmate’s natural color. Once you meet all eyes return to natural color. 

Content warnings: food/drink mention, alcohol, mentions of hangover, vampires, referring to drinking blood as “eating”, non-explicit blood drinking, being chased. 

Word count: 6.9k

THE CITY OF DEWMORE WELCOMES YOU

Patton tapped his fingers on the steering wheel excitedly, nearly vibrating as he passed the weathered sign. Beyond it, beckoning him forward, stood a forest more densely packed and darker than he’d ever had the pleasure of exploring, the achingly tall pine trees swaying minutely in the breeze, their tips barely visible through the blanket of fog. Just imagining what could be held within those depths made his leg bounce; forgotten, moss-drenched stone paths, broken stumps of fallen trees that hadn’t made a sound upon impact, patches of mushrooms scattered in the shadows, and whispering creeks. It was the perfect way to spend his spring break, and one his photography teacher had wholeheartedly encouraged him to take. If he hadn’t had so many midterms to mark, Patton was almost sure the man would have tried to join him. 

Almost an anxious tic at this point, he ran his free hand over the photography bag in his passenger seat, as if to make sure it hadn’t disappeared in the three minutes since he’d last checked. The thing was his prized possession, given to him by the very same photography professor at his university. It had been the elder’s own, before he got his newest camera, and gifted the whole set to his favorite (but don’t tell the others) students. It was full of perfectly kept lenses and two miniature tripods, extra batteries and memory cards, speedlights, and most importantly, the camera tucked safely into the biggest pouch. It was more expensive than Patton would ever have dreamt to buy, so it was truly a gift he’d never forget. Now it was up to him to finally take some shots worthy of the thing. 

The forests continued to grow denser and thicker until, in almost a shocking snap, they disappeared to reveal a quaint city that he hadn’t quite expected. The first few buildings he passed looked like they may have stood there for hundreds of years, weather worn and faded. Their signs were either scratched to nothingness or blaringly new, shining metal names standing out against an ancient backdrop. He was looking for a motel, figuring there had to be one, even in a town of less than two thousand people. His backup plan was to just sleep in his car. He’d brought his sleeping back and extra blankets, so it wasn’t a huge concern, but he’d still prefer a bed. But whenever he’d tried finding anything online, he’d come up blank. 

A fog still covered the town, and though it created an air of calm and mystery that Patton was itching to capture, he also knew the area was surrounded by towering mountains that he also desired so badly. To his right, the buildings stopped abruptly, revealing a grey beach, all rocks and no sand, criss crossed with logs, opening to a dark lake. The other side wasn’t visible through the mist. 

The further he drove, he realized the buildings weren’t improving in their modernity, just giving way to more and more old infrastructure. One stood out, a grocery store, it’s lights piercing through the evening dim. Patton didn’t get a look inside before he passed, once again surrounded antique houses and shops, a post office to his left, and a tavern just across from that. A sign above the door read “Vacancy” in peeling white letters, and that was all the enticing Patton needed to pull his car into the gravel parking lot in front of the building. There was only one other vehicle there, a matte red pickup truck that he parked next to, and what appeared to only be three more parking spots. From the high placed windows, a soft orange light bled, and a round of raucous laughter filtered through the cracked open door. Patton smiled. The photographer inside him was going to have a field day here. 

He stepped up the concrete steps and ruffled his hair with one hand so it covered his eye, heaving a sigh in hopes to calm his nervous butterflies, and pulled the door open. 

All at once, the chatter inside died, and Patton internally shrank as every face in the tavern turned to look at the newcomer. There was a moment of tense silence as he tried his best for a smile and met the gaze of the men scrutinizing him, drinks forgotten on high wooden tables, jubilance halted. Patton waited with baited breath, for someone to do something, why were they all just staring, when a voice spoke from behind the bar.

“Don’t worry about them, sweetheart. We don’t get a lot of new people around here.”

And the lull was broken as suddenly as it started, the men now ignoring him in favor of joking over mugs of fizzing ale. Patton swallowed thickly and turned to the voice, shoving his quivering hands into his pockets and shaking his head again to assure the curls were safely covering his eye. As usual. 

The man standing before him, leaning on the bar with an easy smile, was almost enough to take Patton’s breath away. If he were a religious man, he’d go so far as to call him heavenly. Eyes as dark as the depths of the surrounding forests, auburn hair pushed back from his face in what he could only think to describe as an intentional bedhead. His skin was too flawless, teeth just a couple shades too white, everything perfect in a way that was almost…

Patton couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“What can I get you, newbie?”

“Uhm-” Patton took a cleansing breath and sat at one of the barstools, all of them empty seeing as the crowd seemed more drawn to the tables in the center of the room, “I don’t come to bars that often. I don’t know.”

The bartender hummed, pushing up his already rolled up white sleeves and giving Patton a once over, almost investigating him. “You drink?”

“I… I guess.”

“Been on the road for a while, tired?”

“Do I look that exhausted?” Patton breathed a laugh, suddenly aching to pop his spine. He’d been driving since before dawn for the past three days, barely hunkering down for a decent sleep before he was off again. He’d been really excited to get here, plus he didn’t want to waste more of his meager break driving. 

“I got just what you need, darling.” With a wink, the bartender straightened up and pulled down a series of bottles, cracking his knuckles with flourish before measuring them into a silver canister. “So what brings you to Dewmore?”

“I’m a photographer,” Patton said, “Or, a photography student. Down in Florida.”

The man whistled as he shoveled ice cubes into the mix, “Long drive for some pictures.”

“I’m… dedicated,” Patton laughed, scratching at his neck nervously. “My prof recommended it, said it might be a nice place to spend my break.”

“I assume you’re looking for a place to stay then, as well?” He plopped a cap on the canister and began to shake it above his shoulder, grinning widely, “These guys are always just like, ‘Gimme a beer’ this, ‘Gimme a beer’ that. It’s great to actually make fun drinks again.” With hands flying too fast for Patton to process, he grabbed a glass, popped the lid of the shaker, and poured the deep orange drink, tossing on a green sprig and sliding the drink over. “Enjoy.”

Patton took a cautious sip of the drink and had to fight not to sigh, the refreshing taste a welcome relief after three days of gas station Gatorade and hotel sink water. He could barely taste any alcohol, more focused on the ice cold sweet tartness at the back of his tongue. The bartender looked pleased, huffing a satisfied laugh and beginning to put away his bottles. He was taking another sip, satisfied with the backdrop of joyous chatter and clinking glasses, when he remembered why he’d come in. 

“Yes, I am. Uhm, looking for a place to stay, that is.”

The bartender looked at him over his shoulder, “We haven’t had visitors in… a while, at least. You’ve pretty much got your pick of the rooms.”

“Do you have anything facing the water?” He took another sip, the photo possibilities already flowing through his mind. One through the window, just far back enough to catch the flow of the curtains and the chipped wood of the window ledge, a monochromatic lakeshore in the bottom third, a barely visible mountain looming ahead… 

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Let me just finish this up, and I’ll get you on the ledger.”

“Patton.” He downed the rest of the drink and rested his elbow on the counter, chin in his palm, an easy smile playing on his lips. 

“Hm?”

“My name’s Patton.” 

“I’m Roman.” Tossing the towel over his shoulder, Roman gave him another wink before disappearing into the back room, coming back moments later with a thick black book. He was already thumbing through the pages, finally landing on the one he wanted, and spun a pen between his fingers.

“What’s your last name, sweetheart?” 

Patton spelled it out for him, and was surprised when the man clapped the book shut after the final letter. “That’s all you need?”

“Yup.”

“No… ID, or anything?” It was at that moment when it occurred to Patton that, although he was legal, his baby face often prompted bouncers and servers back home to ask for identification. Roman hadn’t even blinked before serving him.

“Got anything to hide?” 

“Uhm… no, I-”

“Good enough for me. It’s not like we’re a high traffic tourist spot. I don’t think we’ve had anyone take a room in, like, two years, and who knows how many before that. Frankly, I wouldn’t care if you were on the run for murder. Don’t kill me, and we’re solid.”

Patton blanched, unable to tell if the man was being sarcastic. Finally his expression cracked into a smirk and he brandished a key towards Patton, dangling it by the ring. “I’m messing with you. I mean, don’t kill me, that’s legit. Here you go, cutie. Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, he sashayed away with a tray of beers (when on Earth had he filled those?), and the men whooped loudly, startling Patton. 

“Easy, boys,” Roman purred, beginning to round the tables, and Patton hopped off the bar stool to get his things from his car. He couldn’t wait to pass out in bed with the knowledge that he could sleep in however late he wanted. 

-0-0-0-

But apparently sleep didn’t have the same ideas as him, because even after he was in comfortable clothes and tucked into the covers, he continued to toss and turn. Maybe it was the concept of being alone in a strange town, or the full moon shining through the thin curtains, or just plain excitement, but he suddenly felt wider awake then he had since he started this trip. 

There was a soft rattling somewhere across the room and, with begrudging acceptance that he wasn’t going to sleep any time soon, fumbled his glasses on to search for the offending sound. With a grumble, he threw off the blankets and padded across the room to the window and tossed back the curtains, giving the moon a scalding glare for shining so darn brightly. It was the window, fitted loosely in its frame, being shook by the gentle wind that was causing the noise. Patton gave it an experimental tug, followed by a more forceful yank, and found it didn’t budge down at all. Instead, it continued to rattle mockingly, in what sounded almost like whispered giggles as he crossed his arms across his chest. 

Fine. He turned his attention to the scenic view before him, letting out a minute shudder as a small gust of wind blew through his thin pajama shirt. Moonlit waves crashed against the rocky shore, tossing up silver spray against the dark backdrop of the forest. Patton took a breath, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace just staring at the silent town, the stone spires rising above the forest-

Wait, what?

Patton blinked sharply a couple times, leaning forward until his nose bumped the window and squinting through the glass. Those… things... definitely looked like manmade objects- the shape made it impossible for them to be natural- but you’d think he’d remember something that looked like a castle directly outside his window. In fact, he’d spent a significant amount of time upon first entering the room just admiring the view, and a castle one hundred percent would have been on his radar. Oh, if the thing was abandoned, imagine the photo opportunities, and even if it wasn’t he could totally just get some of the outside-

Yeah, there was no way he was sleeping now.

Before he’d even processed what he was doing, he’d slipped out of his pajamas and hurriedly pulled on the outfit he’d laid out on the desk chair, because there was no way he was digging through his suitcase to scrounge out more clothes. He threw a beige sweater over his white shirt, however, remembering the chill the night had brought and, after he’d adequate tucked them into his slacks, he threw his camera bag over his shoulder and trotted down the stairs.

Unsurprisingly, the first floor tavern was empty of all customers, overhead lights traded for softer electric lamps on the walls and the illuminated sign above the bar, where Roman was wiping down the counter, seemingly unbothered by the late hour. 

“Can’t sleep, sweetheart?” The bartender called out without turning around, tossing his rag across the counter and into a full soapy bucket behind the bar. 

“Uh, yeah, something like that,” Patton responded, shaking his bangs so they covered his eye. “I think I’m just too excited to start getting shots.”

“Mmm, you and me both.” He waggled his eyebrows and pulled a bottle of what looked like whiskey off the shelf. “What’s your poison?”

Patton snorted but shook his head, patting his camera bag, “I want to go out, and it’s probably not smart to drink before going out in a strange town at night.”

Roman shrugged before pouring himself a shot and downing it in one smooth motion.

“You’re allowed to drink on the job?”

The bartender hummed, replacing the bottle and locking the cabinet presumably for the night, “Once my tavern is empty, I consider myself off the clock. And I’m my own boss, so I hereby give myself the night off. I have a coffee machine in the back room, one of those Keurigs, if you want something fancy. Hasn’t been used in ages, but I’m sure if you wanted something, I-”

“No, it’s okay. Really.” Patton ducked his head and messed with his shirt, making sure the white collar stood above the neck of his sweater. He made his way over to the bar and took the same stool as before, leaning on the counter as Roman dumped out the dirty cleaning water into the sink. The clock above the bar, barely illuminated enough to see, revealed it was just after midnight. “Are there any old structures, like churches or anything, in the forest?”

Roman tilted his head, giving Patton a look over his shoulder he couldn’t quite understand. 

“There’s nothing there besides wolves and ticks, sweetheart,” he said slowly with an almost condescending smile, “Why? Hoping the little town in the middle of nowhere has a mystery?” He rinsed out the bucket and placed it in the cabinet under the sink.

Patton shrugged, scratching at his temple, “I saw something outside of my window.”

“Like a tree?” The rag was rinsed as well and draped over the faucet.

“No, definitely not.” He tried not to feel too offended that Roman was clearly teasing him, but he was certain what he’d seen hadn’t been a tree. They were too tall, too angular, and too symmetrically placed for that.

“Pattycake, I grew up hunting with my dad and partying in those woods, and I would know if something were there.” 

“Are you sure?” Patton implored, “There’s definitely something man made, could it be, like, an old castle, or something?”

There was a moment of silence between the two as Roman continued to look at Patton like he was crazy, the barest hints of an impish grin tugging at his lips, before he sucked in a sharp breath; as if he realized something. 

On a dime, Roman’s expression contorted into one of anger, eyes alight with fury as he leaned into Patton’s space. As he spoke, his voice almost reverberated, like a choir speaking in unison.

“There is nothing in those woods, Patton. Understand? Don’t go wandering into places you don’t belong, or you won’t like what you find.”

Patton reared back from the forceful words, hand coming up subconsciously to readjust the hair on his face. Roman leaned just a tad closer, growling out a warning, “Got it, sweetheart?” The electric lamps on the walls, once creating such a homey, soft environment, suddenly flickered and Patton flinched, whipping around to face the large room as it seemed to strobe under the malfunctioning lights. Goosebumps spread across his arms as the flashing grew faster and his hand clamped over the back of his neck when a shiver raced up his spine.

“What’s going on? Why are-”

And then the lights went out completely, an eerie quiet settling over the tavern. Roman was silent. Was he even still in the room? Could he have left so quickly? The only sound in the empty room were Patton’s shaky breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, as he fought down a scream. He wasn’t a fan of the dark.

A single street light barely shone through the window, too dim to even light up the tables near the glass, and Patton turned to focus on it. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In… out… in… out-

A silhouette appeared in the window. 

The lights were back to their original gleam before he could even open his mouth to scream, filling the room with a dull hum as if nothing had even happened. Blinking rapidly, Patton took a calming breath (it’s just old lights, it’s just old lights, relax) and swiveled back in his chair to find that Roman was smiling at him innocently, cleaning out a glass with a rag.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

“Didn’t you see that?” Patton asked incredulously.

“See what?”  The bartender placed the glass into the last space in a row of them, giving Patton that same condescending grin as before. 

Patton sighed and lifted his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly, shaking his head. “I think travelling for so long has me seeing things.” Careful as ever, in the same fashion he’d so masterfully perfected in elementary school, he shook his head to cover his eye- his stupid, left, ‘soulmate’ eye- before removing his hands and letting his glasses fall back into place. 

Other kids won’t like it, sweetie. I don’t think the teachers will either.

I know you can’t help it, my love. If I could take this burden from you, I would. But this is yours to handle until… well, you know.

I don’t know why, Patton. You’ll find them someday. And then you’ll understand. 

“Why do you do your hair like that?”

“Hmm?” Patton blinked.

Roman smirked, leaning casually on the counter in front of Patton, “Covering half of your face like that. You shouldn’t, you know. You’re a stunner.” With that, he reached forward, intent on moving that hair out of his face.

No.

“NO!” Patton yelled, stumbling off the barstool just as Roman’s hand made contact with his face. He ducked his head, roughly scraping his hair back in place with shaking hands, but the damage was done. A single cute guy compliments him and he forgets the habit he’s built up for years? How could he be so stupid-

“Everything alright? I’m sorry for scaring you, sweetheart.”

Was it possible he hadn’t seen it? Maybe Patton had moved fast enough, maybe the bartender had been too surprised to get a good look, maybe everything was fine. Roman didn’t seem horrified, or at all perturbed. Instead, he just looked… worried. 

Either way, after that reaction, Patton was aching to be left alone to stew in his embarrassment. His rented room held nothing for him that he wanted, and sleep felt farther than ever, so his only choice was outside. The promises of a maybe-crumbling ancient building, illuminated by a full moon, were far more tempting than anything inside had to offer. 

“Actually,” Patton said nervously, “A coffee would be great.”

Roman squinted at him, biting on the inside of his cheek before huffing a breathy laugh through his nose. “Alright, darling. Give me just a second to dust off the Keurig.”

The moment he disappeared behind the door to the backroom, Patton tightened his hold on the camera bag and sprinted from the tavern, into the grips of the cool night.

-0-0-0-

What would he say when he got back to the tavern? Would Roman make him leave the inn? Had he crossed a line he hadn’t known existed; would he have to cut his trip early because he couldn’t help his curiosity? Was bothering the only innkeeper in town really the smartest decision to make?

All wonderful questions that Patton wished he’d considered before running.

But if he did have to leave, and if this was his last night in this delightful and equally terrifying little town, he was going to make the most of it. At least, that’s what he’d thought he would do as he’d left the few city lights behind and treading deeper into the forest. He had a flashlight with him, thank goodness, so he wasn’t completely screwed, and he’d already gotten a few great shots. He stayed in the areas that the full moon could still shine through the trees, and some of the clouds had rolled away, so he was having the time of his life working with silhouettes against the star filled sky (thanks to the little to no light pollution Dewmore offered). 

The more prominent thought in his mind, however, were the spires steadily growing closer above the treeline. He couldn’t understand what Roman had been talking about. How could anyone living in this town not see whatever he was walking towards? 

(Admittedly, curiosity was also a huge reason he was chasing something he’d been warned to avoid. He’d never been that great at impulse control.)

It had to be nearly two in the morning when he came to an incline; a steep path constructed entirely of rocks fist-sized and larger. At the top, Patton could just barely see what looked to be the back of the castle, and he bounced slightly on his toes in excitement. He couldn’t tell from this distance the state it was in, or if it was possible anyone still lived there, but dang it if he wasn’t going to give it a go before he left. He’d walked all this way, after all.

The first few steps up the hill were the loudest thing he’d heard since he’d started his midnight adventure, and he cringed as they dropped away under his feet, knocking against each other as they fell to the ground.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Patton spun around, his flashlight slipping out of his hands. It rolled down between the rocks, casting split second light beams in every direction as it bounced towards the source of the voice, and stopped dead in the middle between the two of them. It settled on an indent created by Patton’s steps, aimed at the newcomer. Patton breathed a sigh of relief.

“Roman, goodness gracious! You scared the bejesus out of me,” Patton laid a hand on his chest and let out a huge gust of air. Roman didn’t move, and for the first time he noticed the absolute glare the bartender was giving him. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uhm… sorry about the… leaving. Thing. Are you mad?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Well, apparently they weren’t going to talk about it. “Oh- I’m sorry, is this private property? I didn’t see any signs, I’m- Wait, but look, Roman! See, that’s what I was talking-”

“You. Shouldn’t. Be. Here.”

Patton blinked at the harshness in his words, taken aback. How was this the same easy going bartender that he’d met earlier tonight? Whatever was beyond this hill, though, Roman obviously wasn’t going to allow Patton to see. Maybe it was dangerous, or something? Either way, he couldn’t deny his disappointment.  “Yeah. I’m sorry, I’ll leave-”          

“How did you get here?”

“I… um, walked?”

“No!” Roman hissed, finally stepping forward and plucking up the flashlight from the ground, “You shouldn’t be able to see the castle, or go near it, how the hell did you get here?!”

Before he could answer, the other man froze, whipping around as if he’d heard a noise from his left. And then Patton blinked, and Roman was in front of him, pulling him back down to solid ground. He dragged him by the arm to a fallen tree that was propped up against its own splintered stump, leaving it angled just a few feet off the ground.

“How did you- You were just over there, how-”

“Get down!”

“What?”

“Get. Down!” Roman shoved his shoulders and Patton had no choice but to collapse, blending into a pile of ferns beneath the bend of the tree. “Take off the backpack, put it in front of you. It blends in better than you do.” He yanked off the dark green camera bag as he spoke, situating it in front of Patton. “Don’t move, don’t make a sound, don’t fucking breathe, Patton, I swear.” The flashlight flicked off and thumped to the ground as Roman walked away, leaving him standing in the pale moonlight. Patton debated reaching for the flashlight, but that would mean exposing himself from the foliage he was tucked in and under, and Roman had seemed really scared. 

There was a rustle in the underbrush in front of Roman, and the photographer shoved his fist into his mouth before he could gasp. 

“Roman, it’s so nice to see you back home. It’s been far too long.”

“It’s been hardly a month, mother.”

The woman that emerged from the tree’s shadows wore a black cloak, nearly blending into the forest around her as the fabric swirled hypnotically by her ankles with each step. Silver embroidery made up the tight bodice and strung together the corset front, meeting at the bottom in an intricate knot and trailing almost down to the earth in two strands. How her intricate updo had stayed intact through a walk in the forest, Patton couldn’t understand. 

However, if this was Roman’s mother, he did understand where he got his looks. The only word that came to his mind was ethereal; all smooth pale skin, those same impossibly dark eyes, red lips curved in a constant, easy smile. She was beautiful, but she was terrifying, and Patton backed up more into his fern hiding spot. 

She lifted her flared sleeves towards Roman as she stepped into the moonlit opening and he pulled her hands towards himself, kissing both of her cheeks before releasing her. 

“A month is too long, darling,” She purred, letting the back of her hand trail down his cheek. “I don’t understand why you find it necessary to stay amongst those humans when you could be with your family.”

“Because I want more than just… lounging, and talking with my brothers. Do you have to bring this up every time I visit?” Despite his slightly aggravated tone, he leaned into her touch. 

“When you’re older, you’ll look back at these choices with embarrassment and resentment.”

“Maybe.” 

“I just don’t want you to blame me when you do.”

“I could never, I promise.”

She sighed heavily, “They miss you, Roman. We all do.”

“Which is why I’m here, mom. You act as if I’ve been gone a millenia.” 

“Worrying is what a mother does best,” She smiled fondly, tapping his cheek with her finger, “You’re home, darling. Drop the glamor? It must be tiring keeping it up constantly.”

There was a moment of hesitation, where Patton couldn’t help but tense up along with the man in front of him. Then the air shifted, like it had been holding a breath it could finally let out, and though there was nothing different that Patton could see from Roman’s back, a certain jolt of fear hit him out of nowhere. 

“There’s my boy.” The woman drew him in for a proper hug, one hand reaching around his back to rest on his head. She pressed a kiss to his hair when he wrapped his arms around her in turn. Suddenly her nose wrinkled and she pulled away, holding his shoulders at arm’s length. “Dearest, you smell like humans again.”

Roman chuckled, but there was a new quiver in his voice. “The only flaw in being surrounded by them so often. Let me change, and I’ll come meet you for dinner.”

She didn’t move, eyes narrowing as she watched his face. “No… it’s not you.”

“What? What else could it possibly-”

“There’s a human here.” Her voice was utterly calm, but she pushed Roman behind her resolutely. “There must be.”

“What?!” 

A low growl filled the air, and it took Patton a few moments to realize the sound was originating from her. She stepped past Roman, her dress flowing soundlessly along with her as she glared into the woods around them. 

Her eyes flashed red.

Once again, Patton shoved his fist into his mouth to hide a scream. That same alien jolt of fear returned as she moved closer to him, seemingly zeroing in on his location. 

“Mother, come now. You’re being silly. Humans can't even come near here, remember? You made sure of that yourself!”

Patton tore his eyes away from the advancing woman and his breath caught in his throat. Roman had followed his mother, trying to placate her gently with a hand on her arm, and in doing so, had turned towards Patton’s hiding spot.

When Patton opened his eyes shortly after being born, he was taken away from his mother, despite his parent’s strong objections and his wails. He was returned hours later, much to their relief. On his birth certificate, his right eye was labeled blue. His left eye, the side usually taken by the natural color of his soulmate’s, was labeled ‘Defective’.

When he was set to start school at six years old, his mother sat him down on his bed and taught him how to properly cover his left eye with his hair. They’d grown it out enough to do so. Patton had asked why it was necessary, and subsequently learned the truth that not all people were as accepting and loving as his parents. 

When he was ten, he returned home from school crying. He dropped into his mother’s arms and she held him until his sobs turned to sniffles, until he could explain between sharp breaths that a bully at school had revealed Patton’s eye while trying to force him into a fight, and… well, his classmates hadn’t taken it well. Those who weren’t downright afraid of him, refused to eat or sit with him anymore. But it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t help it!

His eye was labeled ‘Defective’, because never before had the doctor’s seen a child born with a red eye. Not the pale color that came with pinkeye, or an allergic reaction, but the iris itself was such a bold, blood red color that it had left the team scrambling for any record of such an incident. They were left with more questions than answers. But the world had yet to understand how soulmates worked in the first place, so they chalked it up to another universal mystery.

Every day for as long as he could remember, Patton had stared into a mirror first thing in the morning, greeted with calm, airy blue on one side, and fiery, almost electric red on the other. 

So it was jarring to see such a sight, yet reversed, on another person. But as Roman tugged again on his mother’s arm, there was no denying it; the man’s own color was a gleaming ruby, and the other was Patton’s very own blue. 

“Mother, look,” Roman blurted out, scooping up the discarded flashlight from the forest floor, “This is a human tool. I’m sure this is what you’re smelling.”

She ripped the device from his hand, shaking it in his face, “That is still far too close to home, Roman! Humans have been here, and I guarantee they are still nearby.”

“And you don’t know how many there are, Mom!” Roman insisted, taking her hands. “It doesn’t matter how they got here, or why they did,” A slow grin spread across his face, highlighting a pair of glinting fangs, “Why don’t you gather the family, and we can find them together? I can’t even remember the last time I really ate.”

The woman was satiated by this answer, though she still cast the forest cautious looks. “Stay put, Roman. We’ll be back shortly.” Her nose wrinkled again. “Along with a change of clothes for you.”

And then she was gone, the only remaining trace being the tiny cloud of dust she’d left behind. Roman was calm for a moment, making sure she was really gone, before his demeanor dropped. The cocky smirk was gone, and he no longer held the confidence he’d had, either as a bartender or in the presence of his mother. 

“We don’t have a lot of time, c’mon! Let’s go!” He crouched before the log, extending his hand to Patton.

“What the hell are you?!” Patton shrieked. Interesting, that those were the first words from his jumble of thoughts that came out.

“Oh, come on, do you really need to ask? I’m pretty sure you already know!” 

And yeah, Patton was pretty sure he knew. He wasn’t an idiot. He’d had a teen Twilight phase, so of course the obvious answer was there. It just… it wasn’t possible. His brain was scrambling for any kind of other solution, anything that made sense, but it all kept circling to the same answer. 

The cute bartender at the inn was a vampire. 

… 

Okay then.

Next problem.

“I… yeah. I think I got it.”

“Good! Now let’s go!” Roman grabbed Patton’s hand and yanked, effectively pulling him from his hiding place and nearly tearing the arm from it’s socket. Patton stumbled from the sudden movement and tripped on his camera bag, yelping as he crashed into Roman’s chest. 

The vampire’s hands instantly wrapped around his waist, steadying him as he found his footing. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m all good, I just-”

Roman was much taller than he’d thought; that was the initial thought that came to mind as he looked up at the man holding him. The second was, well, the fact that his jaw had dropped open upon seeing Patton’s eyes, and for the first time since they’d met, the guy was completely speechless. 

Patton felt his left eye began to tingle as they shifted into its own natural color. He ignored it.

“You really didn’t see it? At the bar?” Patton whispered.

“No, you moved too fast,” Roman murmured, bringing a hand up to Patton’s cheek. “You… you’re my-”

He must have sensed something, or heard something that was too quiet for Patton’s ears, because his head whipped towards the castle. 

“We need to go. Now.” Roman intertwined their fingers and pulled him into a run towards the town.

“Wait, no! My bag!” He tugged hard to try and get his hand free, but he was truly no match for Roman.

“Not important right now, sweetheart!”

 Without the aid of his flashlight, and enveloped by the darkness of the forest, Patton was totally blind, relying only on Roman’s grip to keep him from falling. Branches hit his face and roots reached up to trip him, but every time he stumbled, the hand tightened and pulled him back upright. 

A howl cut through the air. 

“What now, werewolves?!” Patton shrieked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, werewolves aren’t real!” Roman scoffed, “They’re normal wolves! What, you think just because we’re vampires, we’re unable to have pets?”

“Is this really a conversation we should be having at this exact moment?!” Patton shot back.

“You’re right, you’re right, okay.”

The howls were growing closer, and it was clear by Roman’s increased pace that this wasn’t about to be a friendly reunion.

“Can we outrun them?!”

“I take it you’ve never met a wolf!” 

Patton looked up at him desperately, already struggling to keep up the conversation and keep up with Roman. 

“I thought vampires had… like, super speed!”

“I wouldn’t be able to go for long, especially carrying you. Jump!”

Patton leapt blindly, feeling the side of a fallen log scrape the toes of his shoes. The landing was rough, sparks of pain shooting up his legs, but he was quickly pulled back upright. 

“I don’t have the energy! I haven’t eaten in months!”

There were more yowls, definitely closer this time, followed by the sound of multiple animals fighting, barely louder than a voice shouting (presumably) at the racket. Whether it was the wolves having a spat, or a prey animal that had gotten in the way of the hunt, Patton didn’t know. It drew out a small whimper from him either way.

He didn’t want to be next. 

“Do you trust me?” Roman suddenly gasped, holding his hand firmer. 

“What?!”

“Do. You. Trust. Me?!”

Patton didn’t exactly think he had a choice right now. His feet were aching, his lungs were burning, and he wasn’t sure he could run another minute without his legs giving out. “I- Yeah! Sure!”

“Good enough,” Roman grunted bitterly, screeching to a halt, and using his grip on the other’s arm to stop him too. Before Patton could even bring himself to complain, or scream at him, or just incoherently yell, the vampire was drawing him to his chest, puppeting his arms so they were around his shoulders.

“Hold on.”

Obediently, Patton tightened the grip. “Why-”

And then there was a sharp pain in his neck, and his eyes widened. The sting almost immediately morphed into a pleasant warmth, the distant howling being replaced by a faint humming, the buzzing of his own mind calming, becoming numb until the only thought in his head was Roman, Roman, Roman- 

He could feel Roman’s hand on his head, not restricting it, but cupping the back of it so he could lean against him as he stared up at the night sky, the full moon, and the slow blurring of the tops of the pine trees. His other arm was wrapped around his waist tightly, holding him up, and Patton was beyond grateful for the support as his legs began to turn to jelly. The last thing Patton felt was the vampire scooping up his legs and his head being cradled against the soft material of Roman’s shirt. 

Then everything went dark. 

-0-0-0-

Patton woke up slowly, squinting against the harsh sunlight streaming through his window. He dropped an arm across his eyes lazily, letting out a low groan at his pounding headache. There were voices downstairs in the tavern, and what sounded like dishes clanging, and he wondered if somehow this place was also a restaurant. How on earth could anybody run an establishment like that? It’s like the place never slept-

A wave of nausea pooled in his gut due to the speed of which he sat up but that wasn’t important, not right now. He flung his blankets back and… oh. He was dressed in his pajamas. Last he could remember, in the woods, running with Roman, he’d been in day clothes, in the sweater and shirt that was now draped on a chair across the room. His camera bag was... on the desk. His shoes were by the door, dirt free.

He raised his finger tips to his neck, expecting to feel a raised scab, or scar, any sign that he’d been bitten. There was nothing. 

He swung his legs over the sides of the beds and immediately shut his eyes, fighting off an explosion of dizziness induced sparks that shot across his vision. It sure felt as if he’d lost some blood. As much as he didn’t want to believe he had a hangover from one drink, that could also be an explanation. He’d always been a bit of a lightweight.

A dream. Was it all just… a dream?

A feeling of disappointment washed over him and he sighed, running his hands up through his hair. Something soft snagged on his fingers and he carefully detangled it from the curls, pulling it out curiously. He blinked at the fern leaf between his finger tips. That definitely hadn’t happened between his car, the tavern, or the room... So- 

He sucked in a breath sharply as his eyes locked with the mirror’s reflection in front of him, every thought coming to a halt.

Because staring back, for the first time ever, were two perfectly blue eyes.

I have a bunch of world building ideas that weren’t included in this fic, shoot me an ask if you have any lore questions!

General taglist:

@max-is-tired

@private-snippers

@joylessnightsky

[hangmanshole]

here comes santa claus

A/N: there’s no point in sugar coating this….. it’s pure unadulterated sheer horniness for ryan bergara in his santa costume.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: 18+ !!!! smut to come in part 2, enough swear words to rival a 10 year old who just learned the word fuck, horny xmas pickup lines that wouldn’t be out of place in a cheesy xmas porno

with christmas fast approaching and your ebenezer scrooge vibe stinking up the loft you shared with your best friends, they finally lost all patience and took it upon themselves to drag your grumpy ass out of the comfort of the loft and into the car for some good old-fashioned retail therapy at the mall.

“but—“

“shut up, you’re going shopping and you’re gonna love it. maybe you could even buy a vibrator and go to town on yourself so you stop being such a cunt.”

“tell me how you really feel,” you grumbled, lowering into your seat so you were at the optimal position for window gazing.

—————

“bergara, you’re late… again” steven tsk’ed in annoyance, he wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with ryan’s shit, and also, he fucking reeked of stale beer. he was pretty sure the stain on his costume was also beer, or beer adjacent (enter whisky).

“better late than never, now let’s make some fucking wishes come true, huh?” he rubbed his hands together mischievously and walked out to his spot on santa’s throne. yeah. steven definitely wasn’t getting paid enough for this shit.

“HO HO HO BOYS AND GIRLS ITS ME, SANTA!” steven sighed, shook his head and plastered a smile on his face before running out to his position as head elf.

——————

“fellas i’ve changed my mind, i’m ready to get in the holiday spirit” you said in an attempt to declare a truce, maybe it wasn’t too late to back out of this.

“not only are you a grinch, but you’re also a goddamn, dirty liar. you need this” your best friend retorted, not at all impressed. you think you need new friends, this one’s defective and can call all your bullshit.

you sighed in defeat and allowed them to drag you through the entrance of the mall for what would be a torturous five hours of christmas shopping.

——————

“santa’s going to take a quick break, and then he’ll be right back! everybody say bye santa!” steven said to all the children and their accompanying parents while ryan stumbled out of his throne and back into the dressing room (tent).

steven pulled back the door to the tent and found ryan chugging straight from a whisky bottle that was nearing empty.

“nice one santa, maybe try not to fall on your ass this time. i can only say santa’s a bit clumsy because he can’t see over his beard so many times.”

“yes dear, i’ll be a good boy from now on” ryan replied in a drunken stupor.

“jesus christ, is that bottle from today?” steven asked, ignoring ryan’s smartass comment.

“you bet your sweet ass it is.”

steven sat in weighted silence as ryan chugged down the rest of the whisky bottle. the uniform he had to wear was unbearably itchy, not to mention thick (which makes him sweaty), and worst of all, he had to babysit ryan through the rest of the holidays. he was disgruntled to say the least - what was usually his favourite time of year was soured because his best friend was broken-hearted over a friends with benefits situation gone wrong, thus drinking himself into a fucking hot mess while he was meant to be lying about the miracle of christmas to gullible, doe-eyed children while their parents paid for their kid to sit on the lap of a stranger. happy fucking holidays.

he glanced at the clock, and then back at ryan who was staring into space, completely disconnected from reality.

“breaks over, santa. knock ‘em dead” he said in what he hopes was an encouraging tone. he was met with a slurred grunt, which he’d have to accept as an answer. he watched as ryan gathered himself up and stumbled his way out of the tent. steven prayed to whatever god was looking down on him to have mercy on him, and also on ryan’s liver which was surely taking hella damage.

———————

“dude can we go home now? i’m literally out of money” you pleaded to your roommates. your feet were sore from standing for so long, your mouth was dry from the giant soft pretzel you’d snacked on earlier and to be honest, you were fucking exhausted from being around people for so long. your social battery could only last for so long and you were riding the last of that sweet sweet juice on 2%.

“in a minute” was all the answer you got. after 20 not minutes, according to your best friend anyway, passed you exited the store in a huff, leaving all your shopping bags unattended in the cart. you exhaled a long breath and thought about all the reasons you loved your friends and how you’d miss them if they suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth.

just as you allowed yourself to get swept away in your thoughts, a bellowed HO HO HO caught your attention. not fucking santa. god, you’d forgotten that malls hire any random dude off the street once a year to play santa and let all the good little boys and girls of this shit piss town sit on his lap and tell them what they want for christmas.

i’ll tell you what i want for christmas, santa. some fucking dick, you thought to yourself. you make the decision to glance over in the direction of this years holiday shmuck, entertaining the idea of getting a good laugh out of the pervy old man sitting on old saint nicks throne. you’re surprised however, to find a young looking guy, fucking fit, manspreading on santa’s seat.

were all the old men of the world too busy to play santa this year? who is this guy?

your questions unfortunately received no answers as your roommates finally decided to make an appearance outside the store.

“we’re done— uh…. are you checking out santa?”

“no the fuck i’m not” you replied, just a tad too fast.

“dude ew oh my godddd, since when do you like old men?”

“he’s literally not old, look.” you point over towards the christmas display so that your friends too could appreciate the view that is new hot santa.

“i think we should take a family photo with santa” your best friend mused, a shit eating grin plastered across their stupid face.

“no, i refuse. no” you reply, but your words fall on deaf ears. the three bastards you call roommates are already dragging you over to the queue of children waiting to see santa.

“you can’t make me!” you shout, catching the attention of several disproving mothers. they let go of you once you’re situated in the queue, and your best friend says that they’ll wait in line with you until it’s your turn.

“i hate this, i hate it here, i hate you…do you hate me? is that why i’m here?” you ask.

“you don’t get to be a jackass just because some asshole jock broke your heart. and you don’t get to be an even bigger asshole on christmas just because your parents got divorced when you were a kid. this is our first holiday as a loft family and you’re ruining it.”

you don’t reply after that, what could you even say? what would you even say?

“next please!” the head elf called out to you.

“don’t forget to smile!” your best friend said to you, then patted you on the back and left the queue.

“i don’t mean to rush you but santa is on a tight schedule, please come up if you’re ready for your picture” the head elf said to you, looking you directly in the eyes.

you nodded, embarrassed, and made your way up the stairs as fast as you could. your senses were hit with the scent of whisky and stale beer. talk about christmas spirit. santa was still seated while manspreading, and you realise now it’s because he’s fucking tanked.

“well hey there pretty girl” santa greets you, a wicked grin on his face.

“hi santa” you reply, not moving toward him.

“why don’t you come over here and sit on santa’s lap and we’ll talk about the first thing that pops up” he chuckles. your face flushes pink. you clear your throat uncomfortably and fill in the final gaps till you were sat on santa’s lap.

“now that’s a good girl. why don’t you tell me what you want for christmas, baby?” santa says, his tone a chilling purr in your ear. he takes the chance and pushes a loose strand of hair behind the same ear he’d just whispered into.

“santa—“ you start.

“yeah?”

“i just want a man to take care of me and my… needs” you muse, a slight smile gracing your face.

“and what needs would those be, little girl?” you watched as santa’s eyes darkened while they bore into yours. god he was so fucking hot.

“let’s just say… it’d be a christmas miracle if any man could make me cum this holiday season” you pouted. you felt santa harden in the slightest underneath you, a low growl leaves his mouth, concealed by the ridiculous santa beard.

“how about you let santa take care of you, huh, sweet girl? i wanna give you this present myself.” you moaned quietly into his ear.

“say cheese!” the head elf said, pulling the both of you out of the trance of your conversation. you both smiled at the click and then turned back to each other.

santa slipped you a piece of paper and you pocketed it immediately. “my shift ends in an hour, meet me at the address on that note?”

“only if you wear the costume” you smirk at him.

“god i’m gonna fuck you so good.”

[lyn-rambles]

You are (not) my first option

Hello! Thank you for reading this piece of the hqhq server collab, found on the link before please think about having a look around the work of our beloved writers and if you are curious about our other works please check them out here.

Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x Platonic! reader

Prompt:  When will I be someone's first choice? Tell me, when?

Altern Universe: They are second years now.

Pronouns: They/Them

Word count: 2 K

please listen to the song drown-Bring me the horizon while reading this, it helped me to write this one. THIS IS A PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP.

He was looking up at the roof of his room, his phone illuminated the dim room as the songs passed passively on his phone. He had been laying awake on his bed for several nights lately, there was a weight on his chest, like he his ribs were made of lead, whenever he was alone the weight prevented him from closing his eyes. He never thought about anything in particular when he was like this waiting for his body to eventually give in out of exhaustion. The small voice, that dark small part of his half-awake brain, slithered on the darkest of his brain.

“You know what is truly weird?” Yamaguchi didn’t want to hear his own thoughts. He tossed a little on the bed and forced his eyes shut to put himself to sleep so he didn’t hear the voice. “No one truly chooses you first, no one really does.”

He woke up next morning, sweating, with his headphones tangled and with his phone almost out of battery. He sighed before, getting ready for the day, whatever that voice said must have been tiredness speaking. Tsukishima was waiting for him at the end of his block, he pressed on and met him there.

“Good morning, Tsuki!” He greeted with a smile.

“Good morning, Yamaguchi.” His cold greet, could have put off many others, but Yamaguchi was used to Tsukishima’s aloof attitude. They both walked together in silence until he was dragged down and Tsukishima was pulled by his waist, he groaned in annoyance to such intrusion to his personal space and got out as fast as he could.

“Good morning to my favorite nerds.” (Y/N) greeted. They had always hugged them by the shoulders to greet them on mornings, the problem now was Tsukishima was alarmingly tall for theirto reach so they had to hug him by the waist, even though he also was getting pretty tall.

“Who are you calling a nerd, nerd?” Yamaguchi laughed getting their arm off him. He still felt a little queasy from last night, but still smiled at her. They smiled at him, and then turned to try to get Tsuki to forgive her, he was doing a great job in ignoring her. His chest weighed down again.

They arrived school with little problem. The three of them took their respective seats and chat before roll call. As classes passed, he began to notice how some girls were stealing glances at him… that was weird. Specially, since most of the time they were always trying to get Tsuki to notice them, he turned to see (Y/N) they was looking directly at the board but their cheeks were pink, he had know that they liked Tsuki for quite a while, hell they even got herself here for him, well their second reason was… to be at their best friend side. He shut his eyes and looked the board again.

“I am going to get something from the vending machine.” (Y/N) said while shuffling their school bag to get their money pouch. “Anyone of you want anything?” They looked at Tsuki before turning at him. Yamaguchi declined but Tsukishima followed them without a word. One of the girls that were stealing glances at him during class giggled before walking to him.

“Yamaguchi, right?” The girl was pretty, they had long luscious auburn hair. He swallowed dry as his hands tensed.

“Y-Yes?” he answered with a quivering voice, he wasn’t used to be approached by many girls, specially pretty ones.

“I was wondering,” they had twirled theirhair between theirfingers. He gulped, as his cheeks started to heat. “Would you please introduce me to Tsukishima?” That sinking feel from the night before came back. He hoped his face didn’t showed his disappointment, it was common for most of the girls who took an interest on his best friend to introduce them to him, even the few boys who had caught an interest on (Y/N) and weren’t intimidated by, mostly, Tsukishima.

“I’ll do my best” he faked a smile as the girl thanked him and left him there, blank starting at the space in front of him. Both of his friends got back to the classroom and took their seats, they weren’t talking much but Tsuki did have an amused smile as (Y/N) blushed. “Is there anything wrong, Yamaguchi?” He nodded pushing back again the shadow on his mind.

(Y/N) had said theirgoodbyes as, they went to volleyball practice. Yamaguchi had been training his receives since he was still somewhat weak on that area, Tsukishima was on the gym’s side taking some long-needed water break. Coach Ukai had told them to not overwork themselves, but he was here still training.

“Yo! Tsukishima!” Hinata waved at his friend. “Let’s do some blocking practice!” Hinata grinned.

“I don’t want to.” Tsukishima answered. Yamaguchi snorted, year had happened since they joined the team and some things were still pretty much the same.

“Well…” Hinata muttered. “YAMAGUCHI! Would you like to practice blocking?” Hinata looked at him somewhat disappointed, as the sinking feeling from that same morning pooled on his stomach. He swallowed before answering yes. Tsukishima watched him from the corner of his eye, as if he had noticed something. Yamaguchi had brushed that down.

He walked home alone that night. He would normally wait if Tsuki was doing some extra practice, but he had left him alone. He could hear the crickets serenading the warm night. He was all alone, on the streets, a couple of cars passed him before he got home. He showered and then got dinner, while he was eating he began to get some readings done as he ate it. His phone buzzed once, Tsukishima had texted him.

“Is everything all right?”

Yamaguchi swallowed before answering. “Yes”

He saw the ticks turning into blue and blocked his phone. Tsukishima wasn’t going to push him. Once more, the small voice from the night before started to call on him.

You see how little he cares for his second option?

He went up to get something to drink and to relax himself.

“I am not a second option.” He repeated to himself bitterly and not so sure why he wanted to believe that desperately.

Another month passed and the voice seemed to subside when he was tired enough to think. Otherwise, it crept on him clinging onto his arms, his legs, making him scared of what it could do. Silencing his voice (“Yamaguchi could you please speak louder?”), making him stumble over his words (“Could you please repeat yourself? I didn’t understand a thing of what you said.”), dissociate him from the world around him (“Yamaguchi? Y’know what? It doesn’t matter.”) That very Friday, it affected him during practice, all of his teammates surrounded him as Coach Ukai lifted his head and placed it over a jersey. The light of the gym was strong enough it blinded him.

“W-What happened?” His whole body ached.

“He thought you were a goner pal.” Narita eased him up while Tanaka apologized for hitting him. It all came back, he had been zoning out more often, specially on class or during lunch he never imagined it could happen to him during training. Tanaka had spiked a straight, it hit him on the head, even though he had seen it coming, he had meant to receive it but still it his head and it felt like the world disappeared with the ball.

“Kiddo, what date is it?” asked Coach Ukai crouching in front of him. Yamaguchi answered without hesitation. Everyone exhaled with relief, Ukai took him out practice and Yachi handed him his water bottle. Practice continued as he sat with the Coach and scanned the court, he needed to exhaust himself so he couldn’t think once he got home. So that shadow wouldn’t stalk him at night.

“How have you been faring Yamaguchi?” Asked Coach, without taking his eyes from the court

He hesitated before answering. “I must admit I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” It wasn’t a complete lie but neither was the whole truth.

“Are you feeling good enough to keep going right now?” He asked looking at him. Yamaguchi turned his head side to side. The Coach sighed and patted his back. “You are free to go, then, make sure to rest, ok?” He stood and shouted to his team.

(Y/N) was walking out of school, when they saw Yamaguchi walking out. He was hunched over his shoulders as he kicked a pebble. The sun was already low but it was really early for him to get out of practice. They walked up to him; they noticed his change of behavior during the whole month, he seemed shier… Even more than usual.

“Hello! Yama-” they greeted him with a smile. He turned to them with a sad gaze. “-guchi.” Their smile faded and they ran up to him.

“What’s wrong?” They asked as they tugged at his jersey.

“I-” He bit his tongue. His eyes stung, and his insides turned upside down, his hands shaking. “I am fine.” His voice was strained, he was fighting back years, as his face was hidden behind his locks. He swallowed and tried to steady himself by breathing. (Y/N) now hugged him. Finally, his tears rolled down his face. He was sweaty and gross and still they held him, they held him even when his knees buckled.

Their hands stroked his hair, they didn’t say anything, they let him get everything out, they didn’t care if someone saw both of them sitting in front of the school’s building. He felt he was drowning on the shadow and now, for a whole month he had held onto that idea. His sniffs subsided and his tears stopped. (Y/N) let him go as he cleared his eyes with his sleeves, (Y/N) passed him a napkin. For him to clean his nose. They stood up and offered their hands to lift him.

Both walked down the path back to home. (Y/N) stopped by a convenience store and got some meat buns. They sat on the sidewalk in front of it as they shared the food.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” muttered Yamaguchi. His eyes still stung.

“No problem.” She nibbled her bun. “You know you can tell me if anything is wrong, right?”

“Is just that…” He had cried and he had all these pent-up emotions, for the first time, he didn’t care. “Everyone I know, seem to always choose everyone else before me, I am the last one to be invited to things, to be asked for anything practice related, school notes, even when other girls talk to me is about Tsukishima,” he felt his eyes swelling again. “I can’t help but to think… When will I be someone’s first choice?” He sobbed again. “Tell me when?”

“Hey…” They passed his arm around him and rubbed his shoulder to comfort him, but he swatted their hand away.

“Even you, you came to Karasuno because you have a crush on Tsukishima.” He wept. “I am not even my best friends first option.” His voice sounded as he had knotted his throat.

“That used to be true.” They sighed. “Listen, I had a crush on Tsukishima, and honestly the more I passed time with you guys the less I liked him in that way. By the time we finished our first year I was over him and… To be completely honest with you, the main reason for me to attend Karasuno, was because of you.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widened. “You are just saying this to make me feel better.” He forced a smile.

“No, I am being serious.” She scooted closer to him, this time he didn’t turned them away. “I know my attitudes, haven’t proven otherwise, and that’s on me... Will you be able to forgive me?” Their hand had reached to his hair.

Yamaguchi leaned in to their touch feeling the warmth of their hand. “On one condition.” They looked at him expectantly. “That you give me time to think about it.”

“As much as you need.” They smiled at each other.

[punkrockmads]

Miller Crackheads

Summary: I have no words. This is for @joel-motherfucking-miller

Joel sighs, leaning back into the couch and tossing his backpack to the floor. He closes his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands. Another long day. He's barely had any time off duty, constantly helping the many people of Jackson by picking up any assignments he can. Patrol, farming, armory, you name it. He's always been the "work till you drop" kind of guy. His wife comes downstairs wearing one of his flannels and her favorite pair of jeans.

"Looks like you had a fun day." She jokes. Joel's eyes snap open as he jumps, not realizing she had come into the living room.

"Jesus christ, Tess." He breathes, giving her his best 'I hate you but I love you' glare. Tess grins, moving to sit next to Joel. The two hug, enjoying the relaxing, quiet moment. That's when Joel realizes something's missing. "Where's Madelyn?" Usually their daughter comes running down the stairs to greet him every afternoon when he gets home. She has almost every day for seventeen years.

"Upstairs sleeping." Tess answers. "She had a rough day."

"What happened?" Joel asks, his worry growing and spreading like a fire in his gut.

"I think she just really misses you. That and she didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Nightmares again." Tess explains, pushing some of Joel's hair back. "You need a haircut."

"It's all turnin' grey anyways." Joel chuckles. "Might as well just let it do it's thing." He stands up, taking Tess' hand and kissing her knuckles lightly. "I'm gonna go check on her." He sighs. Tess nods, reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table.

"I'll see if I can find a movie for us to watch." She says as he walks up the stairs.

"Alright." Joel calls back. He knocks lightly on Madelyn's door to see if she's awake. When he gets no response, he slowly opens the door, poking his head in. Madelyn lays curled up in her bed, surrounded by stuffed animals and balled up blankets. Her arms are wrapped around her torso, knees pulled up to her chest, hair that she never brushes splayed out in every direction. Creepy Bird by Ladylike Lily plays from the little speaker Joel had helped her fix up for her fifteenth birthday. He recognizes the song immediately; one of her favorites.

Joel sits down on the end of her bed as the song changes. Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe, another one of her favorites. She must be listening to the playlist Ellie made for her during their weekly sibling bonding time. Her breathing is steady, she's calm for the first time in what probably feels like forever. She's a hard worker just like her father. Months of working nonstop have finally caused her to shut down. Joel sighs, feeling slightly guilty for not spending much time with her lately. Too much has been going on, putting a wedge in their usually close bond. He reaches over to grab the slightly shattered cellphone Madelyn uses to play music. He turns the music off before gently setting the cellphone back on the night table. No need to leave it on and waste the battery.

Joel puts a hand on Madelyn's shoulder, remembering when she was tiny enough to fit in his hands. He wishes he could go back in time to when she was so little and carefree. Back when she'd run into his arms as soon as he returned to their rugged old apartment from his assignments in Boston. When she'd sass him and argue with him in her little baby language that sounded like absolute nonsense. He'd always let her win those arguments. He wishes she'd stay his tiny little jellybean forever. But she's growing up faster than he'd like to admit.

He remembers when she used to hit him with the old pool noodle Tess had found for her. He remembers constantly hearing her teeny tiny feet racing through the apartment as fast as they could go. She used to have so much energy. The stress of life stole that from her as it does to most at some point in their lives.

It stole her energy, stole her childish dreams of princesses in huge castles and mermaids in magical oceans and dragons up in the clouds, it even stole her hopes of a future free of infected. The things she's seen. The things she's done. Joel's had his fair share of trauma and it's something he lives with daily. He can't imagine how tough it must be for a child. He's just glad the world hasn't crushed her free spirit. Or her wild and chaotic energy. Or the way she seems to shine wherever she goes. The world could never crush her soul.

Joel never thought he'd be here. Married to the most incredible woman in the world, two daughters, one all grown up with a kid of her own. He never thought he'd survive more than a year and now he can't imagine living any other way. He tucks a lock of Madelyn's hair behind her ear. She takes a deep breath, her eyes slowly opening. She looks at her father with tired eyes.

"Can we have chicken nuggets for dinner?" She mumbles almost incoherently, stretching her arms out in front of her.

"What?" Joel chuckles. "I just got home and this is how you greet me?" He grins at his daughter as she sits up, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. He wraps his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head.

"Nooooooo!" Madelyn groans. "Get your scratchy beard off meeeeee!" Despite her complaining, she hugs back, falling limp in Joel's arms.

"What is with you people and making fun of my hair today?" Joel laughs. "You're too much like your mother."

"Nah. Mom doesn't spray Tommy with a spray bottle every time he rambles about matchbox cars." Madelyn grins.

"You're so mean to him." Joel says.

"It's just how we bond." Madelyn says. Her eyes close. "I missed you." She sighs.

"I missed you too, kiddo." Joel says, holding her tighter. "I'm gonna take a few days off so I can spend time with you and mom. How's that sound?" Madelyn moves to look up at him.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Joel nods. "I could use a break anyways." Madelyn crawls out of his arms, slipping off the bed and onto the floor. "Jesus christ." Joel laughs. She stands up, kicking away a blanket that got caught on her ankle. She runs out of the room and into the hallway.

"I'm gonna go get Ellie!" She yells from the stairs. Joel runs out when he hears a loud thud from the bottom of the stairs. He sees Madelyn laying on the last step. "I'm fine!" She assures, getting up and running out the back door. Tess walks out of the living room and looks at Joel standing there with a look of terror on his face. She laughs at him, causing him to crack a smile.

"That's your genetics right there." Joel jokes, pointing at Tess. She glares at him, reaching to take off her shoe. Joel realizes what she's about to do just as she aims it at him. "Oh no."

Here's the lovely chaos family;

First photo is obviously mine

If you know the owners of the Joel and Tess photos please let me know! All credit where credit is due!

[drariellevalentine]

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 9- Mischievous Mishaps

Warnings:- Alcohol, slight cursing, a bunch of fluff and cuteness overload

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Alyssa Raines, Ethan Ramsey, Arabelle Raines, Naveen Banerji, Kyra Santana, Sienna Trinh, Jackie Varma, Ines Delarosa

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Author’s Note:- Guess what! I finally figured out how to add a ‘keep reading’!

Ethan’s PoV:-

You never thought babysitting a 5 year old would be this tough. But this girl is starting to prove you wrong. Arabelle has a level of curiosity that cannot be matched by many 5 year olds. She has questions about everything she notices. You usually approve of this inquisitive nature (as long as you don't need to deal with it) but this kid just loves to ask you personal questions. And this isn't the only hard part, the hardest thing is how stubborn she is. But yet she managed to somehow get into your life. Just like Arielle, your subconscious reminds you but you shake it off as soon as the thought crosses your mind.

Grabbing the strawberry milkshake you just made, you make your way to the living room. Handing the glass to Arabelle you take a seat in the sofa and go through Naveen's recent test reports.

“Thank you! Mm, this is yummy!”, she says as she listens to the story.

You keep looking at the pages but can barely focus, your mind wanders to Naveen and Arabelle. You try to understand what the story is about. After minutes of listening. you understand that Naveen is reading some Disney story to Arabelle from her e-book reader, guessing that because Naveen is mentioning of a prince and princess quite often along with some utensils which can talk. You scoff at the childishness of the story. 

You switch your attention back to the medical reports rather than listening to that unreal and childish love story.

Half an hour after, a whiny Arabelle grabs your attention. Sighing you place the file on the coffee table and try to listen to her.

"But I want to hear more of it!" She pouts and Naveen smiles.

"I know, Belle," He starts, "But your e-book reader is out of battery and I can promise you that Uncle Naveen just has boring books in his phone, nothing as interesting and lovable as the stories you read."

You see Naveen smirking at you as you groan. "What do you want?" You ask.

"Belle here wants to read more but her e-book reader is out of charge," Naveen sighs.

"I'll find something for her to read," you say and move towards your bookshelf to find something that a child can read.

Naveen fakes a cough and when he understands he got your attention, he proceeds with a smirk,"Just like I said, my friend, you don't have anything that a child can read and I can assure you that."

You pretend to get annoyed and go back to your seat. All this time Arabelle looks at you with puppy eyes and a cute pout on her face, again reminding you of a certain intern. This face is going to be the death of me one day! You sigh, pinching the bridge if your nose, “Fine! There's a library in this building. Let's go there."

As soon as the words leaves your mouth, Arabelle smiles at you brightly, running towards you and engulfs you in a hug, or at least tries to. “Thank you!”

Shocked from the sudden action, you sit there still for a moment before awkwardly reciprocating it. Though you act like you’re not comfortable, deep inside, this small act of affection warms your heart up.

Soon after you enter the library, Naveen leaves you to read the rest of the story to Belle because he found some books he was looking forward to read. "She'll guide you up to the part I read her," He waves before moving.

Sighing, you take Arabelle to the kids area, she runs off. After finding the book, she runs over and hands it to you. You have to crouch down to grab the book. With one last sigh, you guide her towards the sitting area. On your way, she clasps your hand, sticking to your side. Another affectionate act that warms up your heart and this time you can't help but smile.

"You know her and mine name is the same!" She says pointing towards the picture on the book.

"Really?" You ask and she nods enthusiastically.

"Her name is Belle and so is mine!" She smiles broadly.

"Isn't your name Arabelle?"

"Yes, but everyone calls me Belle," she beams at you and you smile back at her.

As you start reading she's doing everything but listen. She just won’t sit straight. She's jumping around, lying on the rug or sitting. Lastly, she plops herself into the center of your lap, bending over your knee. You look up to see Naveen laughing as he snaps a picture. “What are you doing?”

“Absolutely nothing.”, he replies when clearly you can see he’s texting someone. You’re about to ask when Belle interrupts you. You look down to see her head on one side of your leg, feet on another.

“What happens next?!”, she asks. You continue reading the story, and end up reading several more.

Arielle’s PoV:-

After dropping off Belle, you drive back to Flair and pick everyone up. “Hey guys! Are you all ready?” You look up to see everyone dressed and styled perfectly. “Looking good, ladies! Now come on!” You lead everyone to your car and drive to ‘Glamour’, the new club that opened downtown a few months back.

“Arielle, I got you a jacket! Here.” She spins me around and slips it on as the rest of the girls get down. You lock the car and head to the very, very, very, very long queue.

“Follow me, girls!”, Alyssa saunters to the front of the queue, flashing her ID at the bouncer. You notice a few paparazzi flashing pics, something the both of you are very accustomed to.

“Please, come in mam. Who else is with you, you mentioned 5 other people?” Alyssa points to the group and another bouncer leads us through the heavy crowd to the secluded VIP lounge.

"Oof! I need a drink after getting through this crowd," you sigh and take a seat.

“Well I need at least ten!", Jackie says and then places your order.

A few minutes later the bartender places a tray of shots in front of your group.

"We're going to start with tequila?" Alyssa asks slightly shocked.

"Start, finish and everything in between," Sienna giggles."That's Jackie's life quote!" She hi-fives you and all of you laugh. Jackie scoffs from beside you.

After four more round of shots, your now sultry voice says,"I wanna hit the dance floor now!"

You drag everyone along with you to the crowded dance floor. You couldn't help but move along with the sultry bass beats, swinging your hips with Aly. Both of you mirror each other’s moves, earning whistles from the girls. After a while, Sienna, Ines, Kyra and even Jackie joins you two. All six of you dance away into the night, letting all your troubles float away.

Ethan’s PoV:-

After you come back from the library, you notice Belle with a sad look on her face. “What happened?”, you ask.

“I miss mommy! When are they coming back?”, she asks.

“They’ll be back a bit late, my dear. Meanwhile, we can do something fun, don’t you think? Your aunt always does fun things with you when she babysits you.”, Naveen replies.

“Okay...what can we do?” You rack your mind for ideas. What do 5 year olds like to do? You notice the time and it’s already 7, and you haven’t made anything for dinner.

“Do you want to help me make a pizza?”

“Yes!!”, she shouts grabbing Jenner’s attention. He bounds towards her and the two play with each other. “Uncle Ethan, can you take a picture pwease? I want to send it to Aunt Arielle!”, she pleads.

“Alright. Stay still.” The pair pose quite adorably as you whip out your phone and click a picture. You show it to her. She tells you to send it. Opening your messages, you tap on her contact and shoot a few texts and the picture.

“Now! What’s this about a pizza?”, Naveen asks. You lead them to the kitchen island, Naveen sits on a bar stool as you lift Belle and let her sit on your island.

“Eeek!! That was fun!”

“Now, don’t move around.” You turn towards your fridge and grab the pizza dough you made earlier. Placing it on the marble top, you grab a packet of flour and a rolling pin.

“Do you know what’s the first step of making a pizza, Belle?”, Naveen asks.

“Mhm! First we roll out the dough! Aunt Arielle always spreads flour on the top!” Naveen nods as you peel off the cling wrap and knead the cold dough in your hands until it becomes soft. You divide it into three, two medium and one small.

You scoop a generous amount of flour and place it on the marble top. “Can I spread it?”, you turn to see her with pleading eyes.

“Alright. Like this.” You take her hand and help her to spread the flour all over the counter. You quickly roll out all three balls of dough, then picking out toppings like different cheeses, vegetables and sauces.

“What do you want me to do?, Belle asks.

You have the most important part, Belle. You get to spread cheese and sauce, placing all your favourite veggies on it!”

“Okay! Can you help me?”, she turns to you.

“...What do you want on your pizza?” She pulls a bottle of sauce the you made and mozzarella towards her.

“Okay, first scoop as much of the sauce as you want on your pizza.” She scoops a quite generous amount and turns to you, waiting for your instructions. You carefully take her small hand in yours and slowly help her spread the sauce, noticing Naveen smiling in the corner of your eye.

“Ooh! This looks good! What now?”, you grab the packet of shredded mozzarella and hand it to her. “I love cheese!”, she quickly dumps and obscene amount of cheese on her pizza and spreads it all over, causing Naveen to laugh.

“You really are like your aunt! You know Ethan, Arielle would do the same thing whenever we made pizzas....and I’m quite sure she still does it now!”

“She does! She said that cheese makes everything better!!...done!”, she says.

“Okay...do you want any veggies and meat on your pizza?”, you ask as she thinks quite furtively. It’s quite amusing seeing the serious face of a 5 year old.

“...I want mushrooms and sausage please!” You take a cutting board and knife, slicing the toppings that she asked for and handing the board to her. She places all her toppings and then suddenly she tries to get down. You quickly scoop her into your arms, causing her to giggle and shout, “Again! Again!”

“Belle! Don’t do that, you’ll get hurt! Do you want me to tell your aunt?”, Naveen lightly scolds. Her face falls.

“No...” She turns to you with big blue eyes, quite similar to yours. “Sorry...”

“It’s alright. Now, don’t do that again!” You place her on the floor, before you can steady her, she quickly runs to Jenner, the pair running around your apartment.

“You know...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you happy with a child. That too babysitting because someone asked you. You’re quite good at it.”

You scoff, “I’m simply doing what others would do. Now, what do you want on your pizza?” Both of you finish your pizzas and place all three of them into the oven. After setting a timer, you head to the living room and discuss the diagnostics team’s cases as you keep an eye on the notorious pair.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You barely notice the time you spent on the dance floor. But then Kyra, who left the dance floor for a breather, signals for you from the bar.

"I'll be back!" You scream to the gang but you aren’t sure if they heard you.

"Wait, I'll come along. I need a drink," Sienna says and follows you.

"You have a lot of texts!" Kyra says as soon as you reach her. You take the phone from her and thank her.

You unlock your phone to find texts from Ethan and Naveen. Naveen texted you some "Have fun" and "Enjoy the night!" along with a few pictures of Arabelle, some her solo and some her playing with Ethan.

While Ethan only sent you a couple of pictures, some of Naveen and Arabelle and the other of Arabelle playing with Jenner.

You smile seeing those pictures. Sienna to takes a peek at those from behind you and then says, “Look! They’re so cute!!” You both hush over the adorable photos of Belle and Jenner, quickly responding to both of the texts.

Si nudges you after a moment. "Hey! I have an idea. Let's play truth or dare?" She asks you both.

"Yes, please!" You say and at the same time Kyra says,"Oh hell yes!"

"I'll call the others over." You say and make your way towards the rest of the gang. Borrowing an empty bottle from the bartender you make your way to the VIP lounge.

You take a corner sit with Kyra besides you, Alyssa beside her. On the opposite side Sienna, Jackie and Ines sit.

Kyra spins the bottle once you all are seated. The empty wine bottle spins for a few seconds before stopping at Jackie and the group cheers.

Kyra gives Jackie a dare of collecting number of some random guy by flirting with him.

Jackie goes with a smirk and returns after ten minutes. She hands Kyra a tissue. Opening which you guys find a number written in there, the number is not quite understable at first glance but then you can make out the number eventually. Kyra whistles lightly noting the number more clearly.

The game goes on like this and after a few rounds, it's your turn and Sienna is to give you a task.

I'll go with dare," You say and Sienna smirks. You’re regretting this already.

“Do a striptease," she grins.

“Sorry, what?!" You ask shocked.

“Do a striptease. You know strip, take a picture and send it to the contact on the top of the list."

You swear that you saw her smirk again but then again you aren’t sure as she hides it.

"Fine!" You grab your phone and make your way towards the restroom to click the picture.

“I'll come to make sure of it!" Sienna screams from behind.

“Me too! Someone needs to make sure Arielle clicks the hottest pictures," Kyra too joins you.

You enter the restroom to find it empty and a content sigh falls off your lip.

“Get to work now!" Sienna chimes.

You strip off the upper part of your dress, Kyra grabs your phone and clicks a few pictures. Then you slip on your dress again as Kyra hands you over your phone.

The three of you return to the table.

"Who's the lucky one who got the pictures?" Alyssa grins as you take your sit and you roll your eyes.

"She is going to send it now," Kyra too grins.

“Hah! Too bad, it’s only Aly!”

You unlock your phone and open the log to find Ethan's number on top of the list. Your mouth drops, so wide. You are doomed. In midst of all the excitement and tipsiness you completely forgot, that the last person who called you is Ethan.

"Can I send it to someone else than the first person in my list?" You ask nervously.

"Nope," Sienna answers and you sigh. “Wait!...who is it?!”

“Omg! Ari, who is it?!”, Aly shrieks. She snatches the phone from you and shrieks.

“Oh my god...Is this?...”, she turns to you. You nod, wincing.

“Who is it? You guys are freaking out so much!”, Jackie asks.

“None other than her boss.”, Aly says. All of them are confused until Si blurts out that it’s Ethan.

“Oh dear...”, Ines’s face goes white.

“You’re kidding!...right?”, Jackie says.

“You’re doomed!”, Kyra says. You glare at all of them.

“How do you even have his number?”, Jackie asks. You rack your mind for an excuse, Aly jumps in.

“Naveen is an old family friend of ours, so he babysits Belle a lot. Turns out, he was staying at Ethan’s apartment so they’re both babysitting her.”

“I’m not doing this.”, you declare. “There’s absolutely no way I’m sending this picture.”

“Oh yes you are!”, Kyra grabs your phone and sends it to him, leaving you to gape in horror. “Don’t worry, I’ve sent a message that says that it was a dare and you’re very sorry.”

“Why did I ever agree to this?!”, you facepalm yourself.

“Cause you love us! Now, it’s Jackie’s turn to spin the bottle.”, Aly says.

Ethan’s PoV:-

As the timer for the pizza rings, Belle rushes towards the kitchen. “Don’t go near the oven!”, you shout as you walk towards the kitchen. A few minutes later, you’re carefully placing three steaming pizzas on the kitchen island, oven mitts in hand.

“Mmmmmmmm!! It smells sooooo good!”, she yells.

“Well that’s because you made it!”, Naveen says as he takes out the plates. Grabbing the pizza cutter, you quickly slice the pizzas and bring them to the table as Naveen sets the table. You bring a bottle of wine and lemonade along with some glasses. All three of you eat as soon as you feed Jenner, Belle’s stories entertaining you.

“-So Uncle Mark asked for the bag of flour and Aunt Arielle said she would get it, so she went and climbed a stool to grab the bag. But she spilled all the flour on herself! It went poof!”, she laughs while mimicking an explosion.

“Okay, that’s enough storytime for now. Eat your food before it gets cold.” Naveen says. Belle ends up finishing first and running towards Jenner, the two playing in the living room. You and Naveen discuss a new medical documentary that he watched the other day. After a while, Naveen sits the the living room watching tv while you finish up the dishes. The apartment is quiet, devoid of any laughter, shrieks or giggles. Washing your soapy hands, you quickly rush to your room to find Belle fallen asleep on your bed, Jenner beside her.

“It’s adorable, isn’t it. I think you like having her around.” You turn to see Naveen adoring the pair.

“Maybe.” You lift Belle up, placing a lean pillow underneath her head and cover her with one of your comforters as Jenner loyally stays by her side.

“I’m starting to think your dog likes my granddaughter more than you!”, he laughs. A small smile perks up on your face as you watch the pair. “I’m heading to bed, my boy. Tell Sunshine I asked for her, hmm.”, he says as he walks toward your guest bedroom, the one that she was staying in. You go back to the kitchen when your phone chimes with a message. You see it’s a photo from Arielle. Unlocking your phone you click on her contact only to see a half naked picture and a text. “What the hell!...Dear god!”, you almost drop your phone on seeing the scandalous photo.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”, you’re about to call and confront her when you decide not to, telling yourself it’s because she’s had an eventful week and deserves to blow off steam when really you don’t want to upset her. Deleting the text, you go back to the sink. You’re finishing up the dishes as you hear the doorbell ring, this time no singing.

Arielle’s PoV:-

Jackie spins the bottle, slowly stopping on Aly. “Dare.”

She grins wickedly, “Oh, I’m going to have fun with this! Hmm...let me think.” She puts a lot of thought into it before exclaiming, “Okay, see Mr. Moneybags over there?” Jackie points to a guy wearing an Armani suit, Aly nods. “I want to go over there, flirt and lead him on...and then tell him that his invited to your wedding as that he can come as your sister’s date.”, she finishes with a wicked grin.

“Oh my god Jackie! She’s married!”, Si shouts.

“It’s alright. I’m sure Adrian won’t mind!”, she says with a wink. “Although it has been a long time since I’ve played this game.” She sashays over to the guy and starts flirting with him, at the same time giving us a clear view of his face. After a few minutes, the smirk on the guy’s face gets replaced with a embarrassed shock.

“Damn Jackie! You’re cruel, just look at that guy’s face!”, you reply.

You all laugh as Aly says, “I’m definitely getting you back for this! Now it’s Sienna’s turn.” Si spins the bottle, which slowly lands on Ines.

“I’ll go with truth.”, Ines says.

“Okay! So...what’s going on with you and Zaid?”, Sienna asks without skipping a beat. Clearly alcohol has given her a major confidence boost.

Ines gets flustered, “What! Nothing’s going on! We’re just friends!”

“Right....my turn!”, Kyra spins the bottle landing on you. “Aw! I wanted to give a dare, but she’s obvi not going too!”

“Who said?! Dare!”, you reply. Si’s definitely not the only one who got a confidence boost from the alcohol.

“I dare you to slam 5 shots of tequila, continuously. No limes, no salt.” Clearly, you made a bad choice.

“Ooooh! Savage!”, Jackie says.

“Ugh fine! But don’t blame me if I throw up on you!” Kyra happily lines up five shot glasses, pouring tequila in each.

“Wait! I’m recording this!” Aly whips out her phone as you get up from your plush seat and ready yourself. “3...2......1!” You slam one shot after another, the tequila burning your throat. By the time you’re on your 5th shot, you can’t stand.

“Ugh, I think that was too much...” You sit down as Ines hands you a water bottle with lemon.

“Wow! That was impressive!! Okay, now Ines has to spin!”, Kyra says. Ines spins the bottle, landing on Kyra.

“I’m not making the same mistake you dummies made, truth.”, Kyra replies.

“Hey!”, you yell playfully.

“Okay, what was your most embarrassing moment in high school?”, Ines asks.

Kyra winces, “I take that back, karma’s a bitch! Okay, so in high school, we had a really pretty, young geography teacher. One day she brought in a guest for a lecture. The guy looked pretty old so I thought he was her dad because he called her a pet name, so I went and asked.......turns out he was her fiancé.” You burst out laughing as do all the others, “Oh dear!”

After the laughter dies down, Aly spins the bottle, landing on Jackie. “What the hell, dare!”

“I want you to....steal that bottle of Don Pérignon.”, Aly says pointing to the champagne bar.

“Oooh! Someone’s getting in trouble!”, you sing.

Jackie rolls her eyes, “Whatever!” She walks to bar and slowly swipes the bottle, all while flirting with the cute bartender. Several minutes later, she walks back to the lounge and slams the bottle on the table.

“Colour me impressed!”, Aly says while pouring everyone a flute.

“My turn!”, you spin the bottle, only to land on Sienna. “Ooh! Karma’s definitely being a bitch today! What will it be, dear bestie?”

“...truth.” She says carefully. Luckily, you know just what to ask.

“So...remember the housewarming party a few weeks ago? Well, look what I stumbled across in the morning!” She scroll through your camera roll until you find the picture you took of Sienna and Danny and show it to everyone, as Sienna’s cheeks turn red. “Mind explaining this?”, you ask with a smirk.

“What?! That was nothing! We were just talking and ended up falling asleep! I have a boyfriend, remember!!”, Sienn tries to defend herself.

“Mhm...” The game finally winds down after all of you are completely and utterly drunk...except for Ines.

“How are you still so sober?”, you ask.

“Cause I have an early shift tomorrow. Plus, who’s going to drive?”

“Ah. Good point!”, Jackie says.

“I think we should head home.”, Aly says. We all agree and enter my car, giving Ines the keys.

“Wait, go to this address first. We need to pick up Belle.” You hand out water and sticks of gum to everyone as Ines drives to Ethan’s apartment. You pop a berry flavoured stick for yourself, as everyone has a competition to see who can blow the biggest bubble. Kyra ends up winning, by the time she pulls up, you’re quite sober. Reluctantly heading up, you ring the bell. The door is opened to find Ethan at the door, giving you a look.

You don’t know what to say and start rambling, “I’m sorry! It wasn’t my fault! The thing is, I didn’t know that you were on the top of my contact list! I tried to”-

He cuts you off. “It’s fine. Belle is sleeping and Naveen went to bed just now.” You sigh with relief. “Was she too much trouble?”

“Not much more than you.”, you laugh as he leads to you to Belle. You find her and Jenner snuggled up together, the sight is an explosion of cuteness. You snap a quick pic. Carefully lifting up the covers, you pick her up and place her on the side of your hip, making sure not to wake her up. Ethan hands you a small file as you exit the apartment. “I managed to run a few more tests, here’s a copy of them. See if you can find anything.” You nod and carefully go back to the car, concealing the file and slide in, handing Belle to Aly and slipping the folder in your bag. You show the photo you took as you post it, leaving everyone to gush.

You manage to reach your apartment in 30 minutes.

Everyone slumps on the couch as you tell them to wait. You go inside and get a few extra pairs of pajamas, so do Si and Jackie.

“Here, change and get ready for bed. You guys can sleep wherever you want.” Ines bunks with Si, Kyra bunks with Jackie and Aly comes with you. Way too exhausted to follow through your night routine, you quickly strip and slip on a pair of pajamas. Cleansing your face, you throw your hair into a braid and flop into bed beside Belle, after pulling out a few extra blankets for them. “Night Aly.”, you say with a yawn but she’s already fallen asleep.

“I’ve danced and drunk all my troubles away for tonight, but I’ll have to face them...someday.”, you think as you fall into a deep slumber.

Taglist:- @mysticaurathings @caseyvalentineramsey @kaavyaethanramsey @ohramsey @ohvamsey @coastalengineer @openheartincorrect @incorrectopenheart @openheart12 @monsoonblooms12 @realmrsramsey @jamespotterthefirst @hopelessromantics4life @starrystarrytrouble @rookie-ramsey @mrandmrsramsey @semanticsandsea-lemons @ethansrookie02 @archxxronrookie @whippedforethanfreakingramsey @sad-satan-herself @mary-c92 @arcticlumineer @princessfuzzy12 @alina-yol-ramsey @maurine07 @binny1985 @aarisa-frost @nikki-2406 @akshara16 @drethanramslay @mayatrueman @mvalentine @theroyalrookie @siaramsey @stateofgracious @schnitzelbutterfingers @drstellavalentine @drethanramsey @drethanfreakingramsey @openheartthot @openheartfanfics @playchoices @literaryexpress @ethandaddyramseyx @custaroonie @lillyvalentine11 @in-love-with-a-trans-girl @xpandabeardontcarex @lilyvalentine