#alcohol reference

Hehehe. Good. Here are some doodles of Beachcomber pole dancing that I did on Friday when I was bored at work. I used these as a templates and decided I’d finish em up, and I’ll give you a few teasers too. 😚 I drew up 3 pages total, that has 2 different pole dancing poses for each page. I might make another page? Dunno. It’s my current project tho. Lol

No. She's far too responsible, and the type of kid who prides herself on how adult and mature she is. Now, if she wasn't American, I would assume Bella had been given alcohol by Renée. Champagne on New Years' Eve, or letting her sip some wine at home so she'd know what alcohol tastes like and how little it takes to get a buzz going, that type of thing. However, from what I can tell (and @thecarnivorousmuffinmeta, feel free to correct me on this), Americans are far too leery of alcohol to do this with their kids.

Implied past abuse, homophobia and alcohol. BBU.

If you’re just here for the epistolary material, scroll to the end! Preceding piece: Everyone.

“See you later, Phil.”

The last person left the office. It was Friday night, and Roman had gone home with Dillon, Joel and Phil had finished up, and Tyler was left working late with Charlie on this stupid urgent Christmas thing. The world outside the windows was a dark void, speckled by street lights. The office was weirdly quiet without Roman washing up or pottering around tidying. Hell, if they stayed late enough the cleaner would show up.

Charlie had been quiet all week. Roman was fucking limping from his stress. They needed to make sure everything was sorted before they closed and all took the week off. Charlie didn’t want to be fixing shit while he was having Christmas with his girlfriend.

Tyler would probably go visit his mom. She got lonely at this time of year. Maybe he’d be able to take Ro, as well. Give him a proper holiday. Introduce him…

“Let’s stop there,” Charlie said, leaning back and running a hand through his flattened quiff, as if trying to coax more life into it. He always over-oiled his hair to keep it in shape. Shaking his hand now would feel greasy.

Tyler closed his notebook gladly, dropping his pen on top. Most of their clients wouldn’t be doing business during the festive period, but they also didn’t want the app to break. It was their first time closing the office for a week; last year they’d barely taken seven days off between them. Planning around the issue before it happened was how Charlie liked to do things, but it was a headache.

“I wanted to talk to you about Roman,” Charlie said.

Queen cage roommate magic: 5/6

This involves the events that happen in the Kauri piece Haunted (one of my favorites I've ever written, for the record)

-

Jake's phone buzzes on bed beside him and he sits back, leaving his character sort of swaying lightly back and forth on the screen, just a few feet away from the bluebell he'd been about to pick.

He glances over and sees that it's from Krista and frowns, picking it up and quickly unlocking his screen. The message that greets him is simple, and awful.

He went back to Derrick.

It's not like Jake has to ask who he is. He knows, of course he knows, he's spent so much time talking to Kauri about how fucked up that relationship is, how he might be repeating patterns. Outside, the rain continues to pour with a ferocious intensity, not so much falling to the ground as being thrown there.

His thumb hovers over the screen. He could call Kauri, try and get him to wait somewhere, go out and pick him up-

His phone beeps with an Emergency Alert - and boy, how he fucking hates those things - for the catastrophic flooding in parts of the city. He's not going anywhere tonight.

Kauri'll have to be on his goddamn own this time. Jake is tired of picking up his fucking pieces, and he's not going to risk his own safety, not tonight.

His phone buzzes again. I’m sure it’s okay, and Jake can hear exactly how she'd say the words, nervous and slightly trembling. Echoing back whatever answer she gets. I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’m sure.

Yeah, is all Jake sends back.

He sits slowly back, staring at the wall across from his bed, phone in hand. It takes all the strength he has not to throw it at the wall just to watch it shatter, have his phone match how he feels inside.

You can't heal someone faster than they want to be healed, Nat always says, her voice soft and full of boundless compassion, endless understanding. And Jake tries to live up to her trust in him as someone who can carry on with the safehouse when she retires. But right now he doesn't feel like someone who works in a safehouse.

He feels small, and furious, as much with himself as with Kauri. Kauri might have gone back to Derrick for a dry bed and someone who never cares if he drinks enough to black out, but Jake is the one nursing a grudge against a runaway for being more difficult than the others he works with.

That's not the only reason it hurts to know he's gone back to him, Jake's inner voice feeds him, nearly gleeful with malice.

He groans and slams his laptop shut.

He sends Kauri a couple of emojis - just a smiling face, then a sick one, green-colored skin, question mark. You okay?

Kauri sends back a heart.