#One more. One more and I think I’ll just die. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mediumgayitalian · 3 days

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“You ready, Lou?”

“Duh.”

“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”

“Yep.”

“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”

“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”

“Then I think we’re a go.”

“Gods, this is going to be great.”

———

Knockknockknock.

Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.

Knockknockknock.

“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.

Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.

Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.

“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”

She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.

“Chiron is leaving,” she says.

Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”

“With Mr. D. To some conference.”

“I heard.”

“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He left me in charge.”

“Probably wise.”

“I need an allegiance, Nico.”

“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”

She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.

“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”

Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.

(…And Will. Maybe.)

“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”

“…Lurk?”

“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”

“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”

“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”

“See ya!”

He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.

The next twenty four hours are going to rock.

———

“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”

“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”

“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”

“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”

———

Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.

“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”

“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.

“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”

With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.

“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”

Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.

“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.

Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.

———

“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”

“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”

“I hate both of you.”

———

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.

Then again.

It is camp.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.

“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

Caught.

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid.”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding dawns on her quickly.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

———

“Is he still looking?”

“No.”

“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”

———

Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.

He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)

For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.

“Neeks? Where’re you going?”

Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?

“Nico? You good, babes?”

He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.

“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”

“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.

For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.

And that is not all.

For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.

“What are you doing?”

“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”

“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”

Will and Reika exchange a look.

“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”

Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.

“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”

“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”

“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”

Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”

Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?

“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”

“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”

“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”

“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”

“Bleh bleh bleh.”

Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.

“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.

Coffee cake, save him.

———

“It’s not looking good, Katara —”

“I actually like that one.”

“— he’s totally onto us.”

“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”

———

To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.

As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.

Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.

Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.

It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.

Excellent.

“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”

“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”

Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.

“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”

Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”

That gives her pause.

That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.

“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.

Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”

“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”

She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”

“Hey!”

“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”

Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.

“Does that settle things?” he demands.

Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.

The camp erupts.

Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.

“Just — everybody quiet!”

It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.

“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”

Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.

“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”

“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”

The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?

“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”

“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”

Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”

Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”

“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”

“Yeah, but camp-wide…”

“Could still be possible.”

“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”

It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.

Like they’re believing this shit.

Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.

“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”

That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”

“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.

But his aura.

The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.

Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.

He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.

If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.

———

#can anyone guess what these dumb ass mother fuckers did.#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #solangelo #established solangelo #will solace & cecil markowitz & lou ellen blackstone #annabeth chase #nico di angelo & annabeth chase #my writing #fic #longpost

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slut4lrh · 4 hours

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wonderland ; LN4

pairing(s) ; lando norris x bookworm!reader

summary ; in which lando’s girlfriend loves books and lando loves whatever she does

warnings ; nothing but pure fluff :)

note ; lol this is short but i found it in my drafts from ages ago & i completely forgot i had written it lmfao (++ the title is irrelevant, i couldn’t think of one and i love this song so i was like that’ll do)

twitter !

instagram ; lando.jpg

liked by oscarpiastri, flonorris1 and others

lando.jpg she said she didn’t have enough pics to fulfil your photo dump dreams so here are some pics to make up for your lack of y/n lately

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flonorris1 you’re OBSESSED

landonorris what’s your point

user1 lando get OFF your knees

user2 he had all of these in his camera roll😭😭

user3 better yet he probs took them all

user4 what was she reading ??

landonorris in the second pic she was reading to me and it was little women (of course). in the 4th pic im not sure what book it is but ill ask her now

landonorris she said the book in the 4th pic is called ‘throttled’ by lauren asher

user5 omg who’s gonna tell him what y/n was reading

user6 SHE WAS READING THROTTLED YHATS SO ICONIC😭😭😭😭

oscarpiastri landonorris mate lily just told me what throttled is i think you should google it

user6 the difference between little women and throttled is so funny i love y/n’s taste in books😭

user7 i would die for her

olivernorris1 yourusername this man is so obsessed with you it’s actually hilarious

yourusername i 🫶 my obsessed boyfie

user8 y/n we (your children) miss you come back home

instagram ; yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and others

yourusername hell was the journey but it brought me heaven 🩵

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user1 MOTHER IS BACK 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

user2 omg who’s kid is that

user3 it’s y/n’s little brother

user4 THATS SO ADORABLE😭😭

landonorris you’re so obsessed with me

yourusername LOL ok mr whole jpg post dedicated to me

landonorris i said you were obsessed with me, i never denied being obsessed with you

flonorris1 you’re so so beautiful i miss you so much😭

yourusername STOP IT I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU MORE THAN ANHTHING

flonorris1 landonorris fly me and cisca out to bahrain pls bestie

landonorris ok just bc i know how badly my sisters wanna see me race

ciscanorris1 HAHAHHAHA ok yes sure

user5 i love the way she is with his sisters omg😭

lilymhe i miss you gf😭😭🫶

yourusername im in the uk next week pls tell me you are too

lilymhe OMG message me right now

user6 HE😭SENT😭HER😭MOON😭PICS😭

user7 more importantly HE😭LOOKED😭AT😭THE😭MOON😭AND😭THOUGHT😭OF😭HER😭

user8 shut up i’m gonna be sick

user9 omg where’d you get your tattoo i want a taylor lyric and yours is so so nice

yourusername avastattooparlour is the only person i’ll ever let tattoo me 🥰 i would trust them with my life please go see ava, they’re incredible 😭😭

yourusername just added to their story !

seen by landonorris, francisca.cgomes and others

landonorris replied to your story!

→ babe what is this

→ WHO said you were allowed to look that fine

→ have you been hacked

→ are you reading binding 13 AGAIN

→ no

→ i’ve already reread it, im up to keeping 13

→ dear god

landonorris is live on twitch !

[transcript]

[LN: hey chat we’re gonna play some games tonight i’m just waiting for y/n to bring me snacks.]

[LN: yes yes y/n will be here soon guys chill out.]

[LN: “we want y/n” yes guys i know you like my girlfriend more than you like me but chill out.]

[YN: chat know i’m the best i don’t know what to tell you.

LN: thank you for the food baby but can you stop stealing chat’s attention.]

[YN: okay guys i'm gonna go before lan starts crying because we love each other more than we love him.

LN: stop flirting with my chat and go read your book.]

[LN: "what is she going to go read?" uhh i think she's rereading the binding 13 series for the thousandth time. it's like her favourite books of all time and she always rants to me about them.]

[LN: no chat you don't understand, it got to a point where i read the books because she was ranting about them so much and i just wanted to be able to understand what she was talking about.]

[LN: anyways, let's start playing some games before max yells at me for making him wait.

MF: mate you're obsessed with her.]

twitter !

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kjack89 · 2 days

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Dial Drunk

5 times Enjolras bailed Grantaire out of jail, and one time, well...

The door of the holding cell clanked open and as one, the nine men sitting inside glanced up. “Alright,” the booking officer said in a bored tone, glancing down at his clipboard. “Bail’s been posted for arrestees Bahorel, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Feuilly, Joly, Lesgle and Prouvaire. You’re free to leave after you sign out at the front desk.”

There were a few grumbles as the men started to get to their feet, but Enjolras remained resolutely seated, his brow furrowed with a frown. “What about Grantaire?”

The man in question chuckled darkly, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell. “Is that actual concern for me that I hear, Apollo? I could die happy.”

Enjolras ignored him. “Pontmercy was supposed to post bail for all of us,” he said instead, aiming his words at Courfeyrac as if the man was somehow still responsible for the actions of his former roommate some five years after they had stopped living together.

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I mean, we all know Marius is a bit of an idiot, maybe he miscounted.”

Combeferre shook his head. “I’m probably wrong and should defer to the lawyers amongst us but I thought I remembered reading something in one of the articles about reforming pre-trial detention that an individual can only post bail for 8 detainees at a time.”

“And so I must’ve drawn the short straw,” Grantaire sighed. “Story of my fucking life.”

Bossuet clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder. “On the other hand, you could take it as a compliment that Marius thinks you’re the one most likely to survive an extended stay behind bars.”

Bahorel snorted so loudly the bars of the cell almost rattled. “Sorry but literally not a single one of us would survive an extended stay behind bars.”

“Speak for yourself,” Feuilly said. “I know how to whittle.” At the blank looks he received, he huffed a sigh and added, “So I can make a shank. No wonder none of you would survive in jail.”

“This is making our goal of prison abolition seem oddly self-serving,” Joly murmured in an undertone to Jehan, who stifled a laugh.

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Not that I’m not sympathetic to Grantaire having to be stuck in here, but I’d just like to remind everyone that since Marius posted bail, we’re technically now here voluntarily.”

“Yeah so GTFO,” Grantaire said with a grimace masquerading as a smile. “Let me rot in peace, etcetera.”

Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue more, but Combeferre muttered something in his ear and he made a face before filing out of the cell. “Serious miscalculation on Marius’s part with this one,” Courfeyrac said brightly as he followed everyone else out. “Because God knows you’re going to complain about this for the rest of all time.”

Grantaire gave him the finger and Courfeyrac winked as the officer closed the cell door behind him.

Sighing again, Grantaire sat upright, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck before settling back against the bench. “You need anything?” the booking officer asked.

Grantaire shook his head. “Nah,” he said dismissively. “Not my first rodeo. Hopefully I won’t be stuck overnight, but I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Oh, yeah?” the officer said with mild interest.

Grantaire nodded. “Central booking at the 16th Precinct is a piece of shit,” he said brightly.

The officer barked a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave Grantaire a long look. “Should I ask what you were picked up for previously?”

Considering the answer to that question was a vast litany of misdemeanors (and felonies reduced to misdemeanors) that the boys in blue tended not to appreciate, Grantaire hesitated. Thankfully, he was saved from having to answer at all by the crackle of the officer’s walkie-talkie. “Just a moment,” the officer told him, heading out of the booking area and Grantaire let out a sigh of relief as he slumped on the bench.

“You’re free to go,” the officer said upon returning, and Grantaire looked up, surprised.

“Really?”

The officer nodded, opening the door to the holding cell. “Bail was posted. So I guess you’ll have to save your rap sheet for the next time you’re in here.”

Grantaire snorted a laugh. “I’d say there won’t be a next time, but…”

He ducked out before the officer could respond to that, making his way to the front desk, stopping in his tracks when he saw Enjolras leaning against the desk, clearly waiting for him. “What’re you doing here?”

Enjolras straightened. “It didn’t feel right leaving you in there,” he said with a shrug that didn’t quite come across as nonchalant as he’d probably intended. “And I happened to have some cash on me, so…”

“Between this and being worried about my welfare, you’re gonna give me the wrong impression,” Grantaire said.

“Guess that depends on what impression you’re getting,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire’s eyes flickered to his and away again, feeling suddenly tongue-tied. Enjolras cleared his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Anyway, we should get to the Musain to debrief.” He glanced at Grantaire. “Unless you’ve got something better to do.”

Grantaire just shook his head, and gestured for Enjolras to lead the way. “After you,” he said, his voice low, and together they walked out of the precinct, their arms just brushing against each other as they headed to meet their friends at the Musain.

— — — — —

“Jesus Christ,” Enjolras muttered as the booking officer removed the handcuffs from a sheepish-looking Grantaire. Well, as sheepish as a man sporting the beginnings of a pretty impressive black eye could look, anyway. “Here,” Enjolras said roughly, holding an ice pack out to Grantaire. “I posted your bail as well.”

“Thanks,” Grantaire muttered, taking the ice pack and wincing as he pressed it against his eye.

Enjolras pursed his lips as he gave him a once-over. “Any other injuries I need to worry about?” he asked.

Grantaire just shrugged. “Nothing that won’t heal on its own.”

“Because that’s reassuring,” Enjolras sighed, rubbing his forehead, but when he looked at Grantaire again, there was something almost soft in his expression. “You didn’t need to do that.”

What he could see of Grantaire’s expression tightened, just slightly. “You didn’t hear what that guy called you.”

He said it calmly, evenly, but his hand automatically balled into a fist at the memory. Enjolras reached out automatically to rest his hand on Grantaire’s fist until it relaxed. “It doesn’t matter what he called me,” he said, his voice low. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Grantaire scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Enjolras just shook his head, running his thumb across Grantaire’s bruised knuckles, a testament to the fact that despite the black eye, he’d emerged from the fight victorious. “I should’ve brought another ice pack,” he murmured.

Grantaire just half-smiled, twisting his hand so that he could lace his fingers with Enjolras’s. “It’s fine,” he said softly. “It doesn’t really hurt at the moment anyway.”

Enjolras cleared his throat and looked away, but he didn’t try to untangle his fingers from Grantaire’s. “Well,” he said, “we should, uh, get out of here.”

“Before they realize you have about a half dozen outstanding warrants for your arrest?” Grantaire asked with a smirk, his voice quiet enough that only Enjolras could hear.

“You’d be amazed what having a multi-million dollar settlement pending against the city will do to the police’s willingness to bring you in,” Enjolras said with a smirk. “Not that I want to test that, of course.”

“Liar,” Grantaire said, grinning. “But better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

He started toward the door, pausing when Enjolras didn’t immediately follow. “Thank you, by the way,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire glanced back at him.

“Anytime,” he said simply. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

Enjolras gave him a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “Just don’t go making a habit of it,” he warned. “One day I won’t be here to bail you out.”

“Only because you’ll probably be locked up with me,” Grantaire said.

“Well,” Enjolras murmured, not quite able to stop his smile, “you’re not wrong.”

— — — — —

Grantaire rested his elbows against the bars of the holding cell, his arms dangling into what was technically freedom on the other side. The booking officer, some new guy he didn’t recognize, gave him a look but didn’t say anything, which he took as a small victory, and he allowed himself a small smirk.

A smirk that faded as soon as he saw Enjolras, escorted by another officer. “No dice on bail?” Grantaire asked, seeing the look on Enjolras’s face.

Enjolras shook his head. “No, they’re going to go through the whole arraignment rigamarole. I’ve already let Pontmercy know.” He made a face, casting an irritated look at the booking officer who was pretending not to listen to their conversation. “Apparently they take battery of a police officer pretty seriously these days.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Grantaire muttered. Enjolras sighed and Grantaire gave him a look. “Don’t even start,” he warned. “This wasn’t about you not being able to take care of yourself—”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Enjolras interrupted, his voice tight. “I’m well aware that cop would’ve bashed my head in if you hadn’t intervened.” He shook his head and sighed again. “I was going to say thank you.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said, managing a tight smile. “You’re welcome.”

Enjolras just shook his head again. “You still shouldn’t have done it,” he continued, “because honestly, I’m not worth all that—”

“You are, though,” Grantaire said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Enjolras scowled and Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Fine, then why don’t we make a deal?” he said. “I’ll stop defending you when you stop bailing me out.”

“At the rate you’re going, I won’t be able to anyway,” Enjolras said sourly. “Not without putting up some major collateral.”

Grantaire shook his head. “And I’m definitely not worth that,” he said.

Enjolras’s eyes met his. “You are, though.”

For a moment, it looked like Grantaire might argue. Instead, he reached for Enjolras’s hand, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles through the bars of the holding cell. “No touching,” the booking officer barked, and Grantaire rolled his eyes as he reluctantly let go of Enjolras’s hand.

“Will you be at my arraignment?” he asked.

Enjolras shrugged. “Someone’s got to post whatever bail amount the judge decides,” he said.

Grantaire half-smiled. “In that case, I’ll be the one in the front.”

“Pretty sure that’ll be the judge,” Enjolras murmured, grinning when Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.”

“It’ll be the only thing that gets me through spending the night in here,” Grantaire told him, and it was Enjolras’s turn to roll his eyes, though there was obvious affection in the motion.

“Pretty sure Bahorel was right,” he said. “You definitely wouldn’t survive in jail.”

Grantaire just shrugged. “Only if you were in there with me.”

Enjolras shook his head, reluctantly backing away toward the door. “Still time,” he said, and Grantaire’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid while I’m locked up in here.”

Enjolras just smirked. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder as he left, and Grantaire sighed, though there something strangely content in the noise, despite, or maybe because of, the circumstances.

— — — — —

Grantaire didn’t meet Enjolras’s eyes as he rapped his fingers impatiently against the front desk at the precinct, waiting for them to bring him his personal effects. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” Enjolras asked, his voice tight. Grantaire looked pointedly at the conspicuous clock on the wall and Enjolras’s scowl deepened. “Exactly, it’s 2 in the fucking morning. I have a 7 o’clock meeting, which you knew damn well, so why you had to go pick a bar fight with some guy twice your fucking size—”

“So sorry to be an inconvenience to you,” Grantaire drawled, slurring his words just slightly. “Can’t imagine what it must be like to have made plans that get interfered with by someone else’s priorities.”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “Are we really doing this here and now?” he asked.

Grantaire just jerked a shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Do you have something better to do?”

Enjolras sighed and scrubbed a tired hand across his face. “I’m sorry that I had to cancel tonight,” he said, with as much patience as he could seemingly muster, considering the circumstances. “But I needed to get this proposal done ahead of the meeting tomorrow, and I don’t really see what the big deal—”

“You never do,” Grantaire interrupted, still not looking at him. “That’s the problem.”

“You knew going into this—”

“Just like you knew going into this that I’m a drunk and a disaster,” Grantaire interrupted, finally looking at Enjolras, his expression hard. “Well, congratulations, Apollo, it looks like we both knew what we were getting into and yet somehow, we’re both still disappointed.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “I’m not,” he said tiredly. “I’m not disappointed, Grantaire, because that would require me to actually expect better from you, and I learned my lesson on that a long time ago.”

Grantaire just grinned, a horrible, twisted grin. “Right back atcha.”

The officer returned with Grantaire’s belongings, and Grantaire grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, returning them to his pockets. Enjolras took a deep breath, but whatever he clearly wanted to say seemed to stick in his throat, and he looked away. “C’mon,” he said instead. “Let’s go home.”

Grantaire nodded once, shoving his hands in his pockets as he slumped after Enjolras, neither man touching the other.

— — — — —

“He’s not technically under arrest,” the cop told Enjolras as he led him back to the holding cell. “But that’s because we couldn’t really mirandize him when he was passed out.”

Enjolras eyed Grantaire, sprawled across the bench in the holding cell, and sighed. “So once he’s coherent, he’ll be charged with, what, drunk and disorderly?”

The officer nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced at Enjolras. “Look, it’s not my place, but, uh, maybe look into getting your friend some help?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras murmured, his expression drawn. “Maybe.” He sighed and turned. “Guess I’ll go preemtively pay his bail—”

“Apollo?” Grantaire croaked, and Enjolras sighed again.

“Give us a moment?” he asked the officer, who just shrugged.

Enjolras crossed to the bars of the holding cell, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. “Tell me,” he said, his tone clipped, “were you trying to get hit by a car by passing out in the street, or would have just been a fun little side effect of this spectacular attempt at blowing up your life?”

Grantaire groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position. “Honestly don’t remember if it was deliberate or not,” he muttered, swaying slightly as he blinked unfocusedly at Enjolras.

“There are easier ways of killing yourself,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire managed a small, sharp smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve considered those as well.”

Enjolras’s expression tightened and he looked away. “You used your one phone call for me,” he said.

Grantaire shrugged. “Didn’t know who else to call.”

“Probably anyone besides your ex.” Grantaire flinched and Enjolras sighed before telling him, as firmly as he could manage, “This is the last time. Do you understand?”

Grantaire barked a dry, humorless laugh. “If there’s one thing I can promise, Apollo, it’s that this won’t be the last time.”

“Maybe not for you,” Enjolras said. “But I’m done. So the next time you get picked up for a bar fight or public intoxication or whatever suicidal shit you decide to get yourself into next time, call someone else.”

He didn’t wait for Grantaire to answer, just turning on heel to leave him in the holding cell while he went to go pay his bail.

One last time.

— — — — —

The phone rang, and rang again, and Grantaire’s grip on the phone tightened. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Come on, pick up, pick up.”

But the phone just rang until the tinny, robotic voice informed him that no voicemail had been set up for this phone number, and he heaved a sigh as he hung up, a headache blooming in his temples that had absolutely nothing to the better part of a handle of whiskey that he’d worked his way through that evening.

“Nothing?” the booking officer asked, and Grantaire ground his teeth together at the fake sympathetic tone.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, and he scrubbed a hand across his face before heading back to the holding cell.

The booking officer trailed after him. “Do you, uh, want to try calling someone else?”

Grantaire just shook his head. “No,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the officer opened the door of the cell for him. “I’ll try again later. He’s probably asleep.”

The officer glanced up at the clock that showed it was barely 10pm, and he shook his head as he closed the door after Grantaire. “Your choice,” he said with a shrug.

Grantaire sighed heavily as he slumped down onto the hard metal bench, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach for an absent glass or bottle of beer, or else for a hand that used to be his to hold. His throat felt tight and he swallowed hard, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell.

He closed his eyes against the tears that he could feel prick in the corners of his eyes, though he honestly didn’t know if he was crying because Enjolras hadn’t picked up, or because there was a part of him that still thought that maybe, in the morning, he would. One more time.

#ExR #Enjolras x Grantaire #Enjoltaire #Enjolras #Grantaire #Les Amis #fanfiction #Les Miserables #modern AU #5+1 things #developing relationship #established relationship #and because it's me #former relationship #mild angst

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iocity · 1 day

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ASL ‘Merica AU where Ace constantly beats himself up about not being able to live with his brothers during the semester. As rough and tough as he would like to appear, he calls them every day, RELIGIOUSLY, and sometimes multiple times a day (Luffy misses him so he doesn’t mind at all, hell sometimes Luffy calls Ace back to back just to yap. Sabo finds it endearing how much Ace cares, but he will NEVER admit it due to their ongoing older brother rivalry and also his pride). He is such a big softie, and everyone who knows him knows all about his brothers (he carries ALL of their school/his fav pics in his wallet or bag. I mean from THE WEEK that they met. His self-introduction isn’t complete without showing at least one pic of him and his brothers). One night he calls them at like 3am, absolutely out his damn mind WASTED (Luffy and Sabo are laughing their asses off, bc Ace is an EMOTIONAL drunk), just to rant about how much he values their presence and feels like he needs to be there for them more. Sabo calls him back FIRST thing in the morning at like 7am (Sabo hopes he wakes Ace up out of his hangover nap just because Sabo wants to be as annoying as humanly possible in the shortest amount of time), and Ace is SO embarrassed. Not even a hi or hello, the first thing Sabo hears on the line is Ace’s groggy ass voice mumbling:

“I will fucking kill you if you utter a single fucking word.”

And what does Sabo say (the little shit)?

“Aww, just wanted to call my big brother on this fine morning and ask him how it felt to be a complete wet rag. I almost gagged this morning; I mean you really laid it on thick. ‘I miss you guys’ and ‘tell Luffy not to get into too much trouble’ or, maybe even my personal favorite, ‘don’t overwork yourself Sabo and make sure to sleep and eat well. If you die I’ll drag you back down and kill you myself’. You’ve gone soft I fear… and the sobbing?? I mean really you’ve outdone yourself.”

Ace would see red if he wasn’t on the verge of vomiting (and if Sabo’s impression of him wasn’t mildly hilarious). All Sabo hears (over his own laughter ofc) is a slew of curses and pained groans accompanied by heavy footfalls before the line cuts with a final venomous, “Fuck you.”

When Luffy bombards the ASL group chat a few hours later with a chipper voice message detailing how he just casually finished running from the cops, Ace is bout ready to book a flight back. The only thing that stops him is Luffy sending a quick:

“Oh! I love you too Ace, I never got to say it back because you kept crying like a little baby!”

Of course, seconded by Sabo with a little heart reaction and a slew of laughing emojis (Sabo may not say it directly often, but Ace thinks the heart reaction is enough). Despite the raging embarrassment (and the mild murderous intent) he felt at that moment, his lips quirked up into a smile as he read it. He may let the bullying slide just this once (he has gone soft, but maybe he doesn’t mind it).

Tags :) : @porschethemermaid

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cloudlessly-light · 3 days

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The darkest parts of me (5/5)

A/N: Thanks to everyone who’s encouraged and read this little story of mine! I’ll be back to posting pure filth soon!

Title: The darkest parts of me (5/5) Summary: They find each other in a dark world where they do twisted things. The only way things could have become more dangerous, is if they were together. Funny how life turns out.

Unsub!Hotchniss AU. Word count: 2,2k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for most or all chapters): smut, descriptions of violence, descriptions of murder, gore (nothing too explicit), mentions of weapons

David Rossi stands in a parking lot looking at the ground where only hours before a man’s body had been lying. A body that knew was a from the murders he’s spent the better part of a year hunting. They had gotten the call early, a quick description of the scene, but witnesses in the diner had described a couple, and he knew they had to go to California to see it for themselves. They had never been so close to catching them.

His phone rings, sounding loud even though there’s people everywhere and he looks down to see Jason’s name flash on the screen.

“Hey.”

“I’m leaving the ME’s now. It looks like a snapped neck, the man was an ex-marine.” Jason speaks as he walks to the car. “Wife and kids at home.”

“This wasn’t premeditated.” Dave says as he looks around and realizes that in the dead of night there was no way no one would be able to see the murder take place. “He had recognized the unsubs from the news and went to confront the woman while the man was in the bathroom. He was on with 911 when it happened.”

“So they’re close by.” Jason concluded for him.

“They have to be.” Dave walks around the crime scene as he holds the phone to his ear. “The roadblocks are up, every cop in the state knows to be on the lookout. They won’t get away. Not this time.”

There’s a beat of silence and Dave waits for Jason to say what they both were thinking.

“Let’s hope so.”

“We can’t stay here.” Aaron told her, surprisingly calm considering the circumstances.

“I know.” She says, her bag already packed, her gun cold against the small of her back where it rests in the lining of her jeans. “I think we need to get out of the country. It’s time”

“Where do you want to go?” He cups the back of her neck, the hand that only a couple of hours before had snapped a guy’s neck, was now so gentle as he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

“Anywhere we want.” She smiles when she hands him the passports that Clyde had made for them. “As long as we go fast.”

He nods, because they had planned for this, had planned for what they would do if something went wrong. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. But they had a plan, actually had multiple ways to leave and somewhere in the back of his mind he thanks whatever lucky star for Emily’s funds.

She watches as he carries their bags to the car with a small smile. She knew she should be worried, that she should be scared because at any moment they could be found. But she isn’t, she’s excited, a familiar rush running through her at the thought of a chase. It’s a new kind of adrenaline, and she wonders if she’s found another way to get the high she’s always chasing.

They drive on backroads, not caring that the drive would take much longer, because they knew that any highway was a road to getting caught. His hand rests on her thighs as they drive, her smaller one on top of his and when she squeezes it he looks at her.

“Do you feel bad?” She asks and he knows what she means without her having to elaborate.

“We don’t know if that man deserved to die, but he put us in danger. It was worth it.” He offers her a small smile and she squeezes his hand again, a smirk on her face.

“It was sexy.” She says, dark eyes gleaming and he chuckles.

“My dirty girl.” He always loved how much his killing turned her on and it took every ounce of willpower not to put the car in park to have his way with her. But they needed to get to Arizona, from there they’d be able to get on a flight. It was a long drive, hours on the road, and they didn’t have time to stop.

“Once we’re safe, I’ll show you just how dirty I can be.” She feels his fingers dig into her thigh and she grins.

“You think you haven’t shown me exactly how filthy you can be yet, sweetheart?” He chuckles, but there’s an uncomfortable ache in the pit of his stomach, want quickly settling between his legs.

“I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She leans over the center console and licks his neck, her teeth grazing the skin there slowly before he urges her back into her seat.

“You’re sure we can trust Clyde with this right?” He asks, needing to think about something else, anything else, than how much he wanted her.

“Yes. He’s already made arrangements, we’re flying early tomorrow morning.” She knew that Aaron didn’t fully trust Clyde, but he had been the only one to help her when she decided to get away from her old life, had helped her again after she killed Ian. If there was anybody she trusted except for Aaron, it was him.

“How did you meet him?” He realized he had never asked her.

“His dad worked for my dad, and when he got older, he just like me, wanted another life. When I decided to leave, when I decided to become someone else, I reached out to him and he lived in the Netherlands, I went there and he helped me become Lauren Reynolds. We didn’t speak again until Ian, but he has connections everywhere, can make anyone disappear and he helped me again.” She didn’t talk much about life with Ian, much less about her time with her parents and she knew Aaron was hanging onto every word.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to still be in contact with him? If he has ties to your parents and your old life?” He knew that Emily was intelligent, that she wouldn’t take unnecessary risks with her life.

“He, just like me, changed everything about himself, he technically doesn’t exist. He made it look like he died in a plane crash years ago.” She took his hand again. “Trust me, we don’t have to worry about him.”

“Okay sweetheart.” He pulls her into a kiss, a quick thing stamped onto her lips that she smiles into. “We better hope we don’t get caught before we get to the plane.” He winks at her, and she knows that he’s finding this just as thrilling as she did.

They had been looking for hours, had every cop in the city out patrolling the streets. But still, the unsubs were gone.

“It’s like catching smoke.” Dave grunts as he sits in the precinct with Jason, a cup of bad coffee in front of him on the table.

“No killer is unstoppable, but maybe we simply got here too late.” He says, his own cup untouched in front of him. “They know we’re after them, they had a head start.”

“What are you thinking Jason?” He looks at the look of sadness on his friend’s face.

“We know that they have money, that they’ve travelled the country for a long time, the woman seems like a ghost, she doesn’t exist anywhere. They’re getting ready to leave the country. And we might not be able to stop them.”

“I’m calling the airports.” The detective that’s seated with them says and Jason nods, but as he looks at Dave he knows that he’s thinking the same thing he is. The unsubs had an escape plan, and now they’re stuck playing catchup.

Emily yawns as she drives on the deserted roads, it was late, they had been driving for most of the day and night. She looks over to Aaron who’s sleeping beside her, his usually intense face as relaxed as it’ll ever be and she smiles. They were getting close to the private airport, they were close to escaping. She wondered what their new life was going to be like.

As she sits there, lost in her own thoughts her phone rings and Aaron grunts beside her as he wakes up.

“Yeah?” She already knew who it was, he was the only one who had her number.

“One of my men saw you passing him about a minute ago. Ditch the car, I’ll have him pick you up.” Clyde’s low voice sounds through the phone.

“Why?” She asks but still pulls off to the side of the road while keeping him on speakerphone so Aaron can hear.

“Because your rental is more noticeable than one of my cars.” She can hear his smirk through the phone. “Leave it where you are, about a mile down there’s a gas station, we’re waiting for you there.”

“What about the car we’re driving now?” She puts the car in park while Aaron rubs his eyes and stretches.

“We’ll make it disappear, it won’t be traced back to either of you. Come on darlin’, no need to be difficult about this.”

She looks to Aaron who nods, seemingly agreeing to the plan and they both get out of the car.

“Okay, see you soon.” She throws the phone to the ground and smashed it. She wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

It was almost 3AM when a young cop comes running into the small conference room they’re sitting in.

“They’re in Arizona! We got a call from a detective, they saw the suspects getting into a car at a gas station.”

“They have help.” Jason stands up at the same time as Dave.

“But they won’t be able to board a plane. Everyone knows to be on the lookout.” The cops says, his voice hopeful.

“They have money, connections. They’re probably flying out from a smaller airport, one that won’t be stopping them if given enough money.” Dave explains as they start to walk through the precinct, they didn’t have a lot of time.

“Like a bribe? But that’s illegal.”

Dave smiles at the other man’s innocence and squeezes his shoulder.

“Money will get you anywhere, kid.”

“Come on, we need to get there, we’re calling the team in Arizona on the way.” Jason is already holding the phone to his ear as he urges Dave to follow him. “We’ve got them.”

“The cops are coming, the whole fucking cavaliere.” Clyde says with a grin on his face, clearly enjoying the situation.

“How do you know?” Aaron asks as he sits on the small private plane next to Emily who’s leaning into his side, his arm around her shoulders.

“I have men everywhere, and I’ve gotten three calls already.” The British man looks at them with something close to glee. “You did always know how to make things interesting, darlin’”

Emily rolls her eyes but still smiles at his words. She feels Aaron’s hand tightening on her upper arm and she looks at him in amusement. She found his jealousy sexy, she always had, and he always wanted to put his claim on her, always wanted her to feel like his.

“Thank you for helping us out.” She says to the man across from her.

“I’ll always like helping an old friend out. For a fee that is.” He winks at her and she shakes her head at the way all Clyde always wanted was money. She takes the suitcase beside her and slides it over the table, her eyebrow arched as she waits for him to open it.

“That should be more than enough.” She swears she sees his eyes light up at the sight of the bills in neat stacks in the suitcase. “Now, get us out of here.” Her gun rests on the table and she picks it up casually and she feels Aaron tense against her side, always ready to back her up if needed.

“No need to get violent Em. You’ll be in the air in less than thirty.”

“We’ll have to be quicker than that.” Aaron says as he looks out the window where he sees blue lights in the distance. “We have to go now.”

Dave doesn’t think the devastation of making it only minutes too late would be something he’ll ever get over. He will never forget seeing the small plane take off, a shadow of a man looking back at him from the air.

He wouldn’t give up on finding them, but realistically he knew that he might never do. There was no trail where they had gone, no transactions to look into, no bank accounts, not even the people helping their unsubs had their real identeties. It wouldn’t have mattered if they did though, they were gone. All of them.

Aaron smiles his thanks at the bartender as he grabs their drinks. The sun was hot on his skin, the sand soft as he walked in his flipflops towards the sunbeds where Emily was laying. She looks up at him from behind her glasses, her skin shining from the lotion and sweat and he licks his lips at the sight.

When he hands her the colorful drink she had asked for, she sits up in her chair. She clinks her glass with his, a smile on her face. “We made it.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #aaron x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction

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the-somwthing · 3 days

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I gotta talk to people so bad so I’m just gonna spout something that’s been on my mind for a while

I see a lot of people always describing Joel and Scott’s rivalry as one sided. Like, Joel just hates Scott and Scott doesn’t care? And while I feel like that statement is technically true, it doesn’t really describe the situation very well.

It sort of implies that Scott’s never out to get Joel, and Joel is just coming after Scott for no reason. I won’t deny that Joel does like to come after Scott without provocation sometimes, but like… we are ignoring the fact that 3/5 Joel final deaths have been at Scott’s hand?

In two seasons, those kills were a result of a deliberate hunt to get rid of Joel specifically. In Last Life, I’ll give him a bit of a pass, since Joel did kind of start the fight with a big explosion and had been the “villain” for the entire season, it makes enough sense to try to end him like that.

But in LIMITED LIFE?? As a Joel viewer I am NEVER getting over the feeling of watching his final episode (not negative, just baffling in a way I find pretty fun lol). Scott randomly says “Joel needs to die” and everyone just agrees I guess? And then Joel is being witch hunted. “Oh but it’s because he was getting so many kills! Duh!” Grian had more. Grian LITERALLY got a quad kill (ON SCOTT FOR THAT MATTER) and Scott’s like “JOEL is the problem, the murderous evil of the server”. LIKE HELLO?? They’re literally allies, Scott could’ve said “we need to get rid of the bad boys” but he was COOL with Grian. He was letting Grian LIVE. Like HELLO??? WHAT DID JOEL DO FR 😭 Joel was literally just trying to survive btw, his fighting back was very defensive rather than offensive, and would back off when not being actively attacked. With the exception of trying to get kills cuz he was on less than ten minutes, of course. But Scott had been hunting him before then.

And then I guess I have to mention Secret Life’s Scott-Killing-Joel. I don’t think that final kill was especially targeted on either of their sides, the battle just turned out that way. I could rewatch to see if there’s more to it but for now this is how I see it.

Okay, I’m turning this into a full analysis of their rivalry, idc, I’m literally obsessed with their dynamic. I’m adding a cut here.

ALRIGHT WHERE WAS I. RIGHT. Finished explaining the final deaths, but there’s stuff before that! Let’s take a look at their rivalry 🥰

Let’s go in order, shall we? 3rd Life!! I am obsessed with them in this season ahahahhaga anyways. Joel comes after Scott unprovoked. Simple, this is how everyone sees their rivalry. HOWEVER. Joel is FULLY WILLING to work with him anyways. Maybe you could excuse the dark oak thing as it was early on and they were just trying to take down a monopoly. But in the finale they reconcile and spend much of the session together. They established early on that Joel had been trying to kill Scott, but they’re both perfectly happy to team up instead (which btw they did because they both happened to be allied with Scar).

Then Last Life. Joel does hate Scott in it, but I’m not sure I would say it’s without reason. Joel being boogey in ep2 was majorly important, and he killed Scott. But that wasn’t targeted. He had attempted multiple times to kill other people. Scott was one of the only (and closest) people who didn’t already know he was boogeyman. Then of course Scott tells Pearl they can fight back and has her kill Joel, sending him to red. Perfectly reasonable for all parties imo, and a good enough reason for Joel to target Scott seeing as being red early on had a huge impact on him.

Of course LL is also where Joel says Scott just looked at him funny one day and that’s why he hates him, which is a great line. I do believe he would bother Scott just for the rivalry, but unlike in 3rd Life, Scott had done things to make Joel never consider stopping.

Then Double Life. Erm. Literally nothing, except that I believe the only reason Scott and Pearl were the last pair is because Joel wasn’t there to kill them, since apparently he’s the only one who can make them lose lives. Wild. They were guaranteed to win ever since the lava portal trap. (obviously I’m joking but like how is he the only outside force to kill that pair). I will clarify for analysis sake that Joel’s first kill on them had nothing to do with Scott, and the second kill was to Scott but it was because of the life colors, not really anything about their rivalry. It was technically targeted at Scott specifically but not cuz he hated him, instead because Pearl had a weird “alliance” with the reds.

Then Limited Life!!! What the heeelll was happening lmao. I already talked about the final moment so before that. Erm. I’m blanking out I’m listening to bad romance it’s distracting me. You know what let’s move on I can’t remember what they did, the final death I explained previously is enough data for now.

Secret Life. Oh boy. I’ll say it again, I was secretly hoping for more Scott/Joel dynamic when it started but I doubted it would happen but we got FED!!! I was so excited when I saw the assassin task (as was Joel). Anyways. Throughout the season Joel was doing the whole hating Scott thing, Scott caught onto the bit and played into it somewhat by talking more about how Joel always hates him for no reason. We SHOULD be able to disregard Joel targeting Scott for the assassin task as it was a task, but to be fair after reading it Joel said “oh my gosh is this my dream?” He was super happy to be assigned to assassinate Scott LMAO. That has to count for something.

I feel like the rivalry was fairly obvious, so I need to point out the outlier moments in SL. While Joel goes on about how Scott should die, he happily trades with him and swapped gifted hearts with zero hesitation. In the final session, he and Scott ended up on the same side. I believe Joel may have been slightly annoyed at being on a team with him but accepts it nonetheless. The only reason Scott ends up killing Joel is because their team won, so they had to turn on each other. As previously stated it wasn’t especially targeted, it was a 2v2.

And then if you noticed from me saying 3/5 games, I’m not counting Real Life, but I’ll bring it up here. Scott literally says “since it’s real life we can be friends now since we’re friends in real life” (one of the many reasons I consider RL noncanon tbh, Scott literally mentions in-universe that this season is different so they can act differently, also what is the in-universe explanation for “friends in real life”). Aside from a reminder that Joel doesn’t actually hate Scott irl and this is just fun game rp stuff, this shows that Scott really did catch onto the rivalry bit, and really does just bring it up more. Joel had just arrived when Scott brought it up. Joel agrees to being friends in Real Life. This holds little relevance to my analysis since I don’t view RL as canon but you can keep it in mind.

Now that I’ve laid out their rivalry in a simplified summary, let me ACTUALLY analyze it! What did I mean all the way back at the start of the post when I said “Scott and Joel’s rivalry being one sided is somewhat accurate but I feel it misrepresents their relationship”?

Well, I believe it’s true that (at least up until Secret Life), Scott didn’t care about the rivalry while Joel did. But that doesn’t mean Scott never targeted Joel, as I said he’s witch-hunted him twice. It’s just it was never personal to Scott. I once saw a post(s) I really enjoyed, an analysis on Scott. Saying that he doesn’t actually value being loyal, he values being fair. Then there was the addition that it’s based on what he thinks is fair. I feel like this is 100% true for his thing with Joel. Scott views Joel as a force that has to be stopped, he’s gone too far, he needs to be stopped, it’s only fair for all the suffering he’s caused. He doesn’t stop to think about how killing is the whole point of this game, how other people are doing the same things, how many times he has killed Joel. Joel hasn’t killed Scott permanently before, he has killed him though, but not as much as Scott has killed Joel. To Scott, that doesn’t matter, Scott kills Joel for a reason, for justice, while Joel kills just for the sake of it. Whether or not that idea is true is up to you to interpret for yourself, but to Scott it’s true. Joel is more of a wildfire that needs to be put out than a rival.

Let’s look at Joel’s side of things. He does hate Scott and target him for no reason. The rivalry is one sided, where Joel sees a rival Scott sees some random danger that needs to be dealt with. I can’t tell you why Joel hates Scott. It’s not really the point of my analysis. I’ve seen ppl say it’s because of previous series they’ve had together (they’ve been rivals for ages!) but for my headcanons they don’t remember those, tho very few feelings from their past lives may linger, so perhaps that does explain it. For the sake of my analysis though we won’t be looking deep into why Joel likes to poke at Scott. It’s cuz he looked at him funny one day remember?

So we establish that Joel needlessly attacks Scott. But if you’ll notice from my summaries, he is fully willing to put aside that hatred. It’s conditional (yes it is the default, but still). If Scott treats Joel kindly, Joel will attempt to reciprocate it. Let’s look at this again:

3L: Joel targets Scott, Scott kind of just gives him a disapproving look every time and doesn’t fight back. Joel ends up feeling somewhat guilty, and in the end has no problems teaming up with Scott.

LL: Scott was the main cause of Joel turning red, Joel targets him constantly. Scott ends up permanently killing Joel to put an end to his madness.

DL: erm. Well it’s worth mentioning Joel never specifically targeted Scott for no reason. ALSO WORTH MENTIONING SCOTT BURNED THE RELATION??? This season was a bit of a switch-up. I need to rewatch to see if Scott had any good reason to do that lmao I don’t really remember, I hardly remembered he was responsible.

LimL: Scott deems Joel to be a server menace who needs to die, Joel (who doesn’t really understand why he needs to die) tries negotiating many times but Scott insists. He kills Joel.

SL: Joel gets task to target Scott, is thrilled. He fails miserably, losing people he cares about in the process. Vows to kill Scott, it’s like his main goal now. Still accepts every peace offering from Scott with little to no hesitation, to the point of eventually teaming with him until they’re forced to go against each other and Scott kills Joel again.

So basically you can see, every time Scott does something to wrong Joel, Joel goes hard on the rivalry, while if he doesn’t and offers peace, Joel will lay off. Secret Life was a weird middle ground, where Scott had done things to wrong Joel, however those things weren’t entirely his fault so when he offered peace to Joel, Joel would still accept. A confusing time for Joel I’m sure.

I will say a disclaimer here, I’m not saying Scott shouldn’t ever fight back against Joel. If he’s targeting you for no reason, it’s your decision if you’ll try to befriend him to make him stop or fight back. I support fighting back. I’m just saying that befriending him is a proven method to work, but I don’t think Scott has exactly noticed that and instead just assumes that Joel will stop at nothing to end him.

Another thing I wanted to talk about but forgot what the natural and intuitive transition into it was gonna be. Scott has permakilled Joel 3 times. Joel has permakilled Scott 0 times.

Joel had started the series off picking on Scott for no reason, and has never succeeded. Scott has won this battle three times. At this point, it’s honestly finally somewhat justified for Joel to come after Scott. That guy has specifically targeted and hunted him out of 2 seasons, and took him out of a 3rd as well. Joel has taken Scott out of 0. At this point, I feel like Joel needs that closure, to finally kill Scott, and who knows if he’ll ever get it. If you look at the fandom, even fans are hoping Joel will kill Scott because of this. So imagine how Joel feels! But obviously Scott wouldn’t just let him (okay. Well. Actually. It’s Scott. He kind of lets people do that all the time. But only allies…). Scott will be waiting for Joel to target him once more, and deal with it the way he always does. But who knows if it’ll turn out different?

Which reminds me that I pinpoint SL as the season Scott finally notices this “one sided rivalry”. We all know Scott loves drama, so when he finally noticed Joel had been hating him the whole time, he kept bringing it up. And it wasn’t just for SL only, he brought it up the moment he saw Joel in RL. I don’t count RL as canon but it does prove that Scott hasn’t let go of the rivalry now that he’s finally realized it. I don’t know if there will be a 6th season, but if so I wouldn’t be surprised if Scott brings up the rivalry. Idk if he would make it a big deal, but he would surely at least mention it.

Anyways, if you think I’m done with my little analysis, you’re wrong!!! I’m done with the things I see as pretty factual, but now we’re gonna get into more fanon headcanony type of territory!!!

…but, maybe I’ll make that its own post. Stay tuned and thanks for reading!

#trafficblr #life series #traffic analysis #< is that for this fandom or like. real life traffic. lmk #life series scott #life series joel #secret life spoilers #limited life spoilers #double life spoilers #last life spoilers #3rd life spoilers #ALSO WARNING THIS IS SOSO LONG IT TOOK OVER AN HOUR HELPPP

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hydraulicpressedspaghetti · 4 hours

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I spent a couple hours trying to decipher and write down the lyrics to the stolitz duet (I’ll keep updating as more recordings are posted, hopefully the unintelligible lyrics are easier to hear in at least one!)

Lyrics below the cut (question marks in parentheses mean I’m not 100% sure)

S: thank you too (?????)

The butterflies in my stomach, I have’t felt this nervous(??????) since I was a little fluffy dove, nesting my

Daring do, his half disguise, behind the smile my beak is grinding, never minding

I swore I couldn’t dwell on the divorce, so for my own health, I’ll remind myself

That when I see him, I know that it won’t be so tough, I’ll believe him and not the voice inside of my own head(?!?)

Instead(?) of our arrangement, it can just be him and me, how perfect it could be, when I see him tonight

B: it’s time to meet?(??) alright, alright! It’s been a while since he came for attention! Are we okay? I can’t really say, I’m getting by by avoiding his questions

So complicated, I hate when it’s complicated, why do I alway end up in situations that are complicated

Here I go again, getting in my head, so I’ll focus on the sexy stuff instead

S: when I see him

B: I’m gonna do that thing he likes(??)

S: when he sees me(?)

B: we don’t have to change things, I’ll just bring a load of spice

S: —(???) make things worse

B: we’ve got a nice arrangement, and it’s working out just fine, we’ll keep it light(?)

S: I’ll fucking die alone if this goes bad tonight

Both?: when I see him tonight

S: am I doing something I can’t take back

B: relax

S: would he want me if he was free

B: we’re fine!

S: and if he’s only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me? My entire life’s been written in stone

B: we’re gonna bone

S: he taught me that I could choose

B: cool

S: he deserves a choice to stay or go, though it scares me to think what i’d loose

B: I can’t wait to lose ourselves in nasty sex and make that bird SQUAK

S: what do I(???) ———- (???)

B: we’ll just stick with what makes sense, like him sucking my

S: co ————(??????)

B: who needs words when you’ve got a mouth full of

S: come to your senses

B: ———-(???)

S: this will be(?) all for love and trust

B: I’ll leave his bird puss nice and rough

S: I will love(?????) him soon

B: he’ll be coming-

both: -soon enough

B: oh yeah!

S: when I see him, will it be tender or be tough? Will it please him, or will I just be fucking it all up? Can this be a relationship, or am I still naïve?

I’ll set us free, whatever it may be, when I see him tonight

#helluva boss #stolitz #stolitz duet #spaghetti posting

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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 days

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Chapter 4 is up!

Tagging: @lemonlyman-dotcom and @kiwichaeng

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[6:22pm] Why do smoke detector batteries only die in the middle of the night?

T.K. is chowing down on some of Paul’s chili when his phone buzzes in his pocket. His dad is regaling the table with another of his New York exploits, this one about a rather scandalous call at a night club. T.K. had been off that night, but he’s heard the story so many times he could probably tell it word for word.

“An unbelievable amount of glitter,” his dad says as T.K. slips his phone out. As soon as he sees the text he smiles.

T.K.

[6:23pm] Are you speaking from personal experience?

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[6:24pm] Yes. Two o’clock in the morning last night. Even though I change them every six months. Took me fifteen minutes to figure out which one. So tell me firefighter, why?

T.K.

[6:25pm] Bad news. Smoke detectors are sons of bitches. They’re like Santa. They see you when you’re sleeping. They know when you’re awake. And they choose to use that information for evil.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[6:26pm] That seems like a major design flaw for a life saving device.

“Why are you smiling at your crotch?” Marjan asks from across the table.

T.K. slides his phone back into his pocket. “No reason.”

“Nobody smiles at their crotch for no reason,” Judd says, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “You talking to a guy?”

“I wasn’t talking to anybody,” T.K. says, scooping up another spoonful of chili. It’s true. He was texting. Not talking. He’s a professional at telling the truth without actually telling it.

“I bet it’s that guy from the other night,” Paul says, a smirk on his face.

“Ooh, the hot guy with the six pack?” Mateo asks.

“Son, if you are engaged in sexting I’m going to ask you not to do it at the dinner table,” Owen says, clearly flirting with the line of dad mode and captain mode.

“I’m not sexting,” T.K. says with a roll of his eyes.

“But it is the guy from the other night?” Paul says. “Come on. You can tell us.”

“Is this what it’s like to have siblings?” T.K. asks. “Kind of glad you and Mom never got around to having more kids, Dad.”

“You’re welcome?” his dad says in a slightly bemused voice.

“Listen if you’re gonna text during dinner you’re gonna owe us some answers,” Judd says. “Least you can do for not paying attention.”

“Fine!” T.K. says. “Yes. It is the guy from the other night. His name is Carlos and he’s APD. Happy?”

“Carlos what?” Marjan asks.

T.K. stares at her. “What do you mean Carlos what?”

“What’s his last name?” she says. When he doesn’t answer she sets down her spoon. “You do know his last name, right?”

“I—“

“Are you sure he’s real?” Mateo asks, adding more cheese to his chili. “Could be a catfish situation.”

“Catfish?” Owen asks, looking confused. “You think T.K. is talking to a fish that lives in muddy water?”

Judd shakes his head. “I’ll explain it later Cap.”

“I am not being catfished,” T.K. says. “He’s a real guy. A nice guy,” he adds.

“Ooooh you’re smitten,” Paul says with a grin.

“I am not smitten!” T.K. cries.

He does not share the part where he poured his heart out the other night through texts to Carlos. Apparently his New York sob story needed to be released and a somewhat faceless, hot ass phone man seemed like an appropriate person to do it with. He’s not sure if his therapist will be thrilled or horrified.

“Just be careful what you send him,” Marjan cautions. “The internet is forever.”

“Thanks Mom,” he shoots back.

“Marjan is right,” his dad says. “I am all for you sowing your oats or Netflix and chilling or whatever you kids are calling it these days. But you should be careful.”

“One time,” Mateo says around a mouthful, “my cousin thought he was going to some girl’s place, but when he got there, it was actually a dude named Knife. He stole my cousin’s wallet and his cell phone.”

“You know sometimes I really worry about you probie,” Paul says, eyes full of genuine concern.

Mateo’s story takes the heat off of T.K. and the team spends the rest of dinner ragging on him instead.

But T.K. is still thinking about Marjan’s words hours later when he’s laying in his bunk staring at the ceiling. Everyone else is asleep; he can hear Judd’s chainsaw snores, Mateo’s sleep mumbles, and Paul’s deep breathing. Crazy how quickly those sounds have become familiar to him.

He rolls over and grabs his phone off the nightstand, turning down the brightness so it doesn’t wake anyone else up. He gnaws at his lip for a second before sending another text off to Carlos.

T.K.

[10:41pm] You’re real, right?

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[10:43pm] As opposed to…?

T.K.

[10:44pm] This isn’t a Catfish situation? You’re not really a woman living in Boise who’s going to steal my credit card information?

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[10:45pm] You got me. You’re my third mark this year. What gave it away?

T.K. snorts then looks around quickly to make sure he hasn’t woken anyone up. His fingers fly as he types back.

T.K.

[10:46pm] Prove it.

Office Hottie- Carlos

[10:47pm] Prove what? That I’m real? How?

T.K.

[10:47pm] Idk. Send a picture of you holding a fork.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[10:47pm] …a fork?

T.K.

[10:48pm] Four tines? Used for food? Popular with mermaids?

There’s no response and T.K. sets the phone down on his chest. He’s stupid. This is stupid. What kind of stupid person asks someone who’s basically a stranger to send a picture of themselves with a fork at this time of night?

T.K. winces. Weirdest booty call ever.

His phone vibrates and when he lifts it up he has to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

Carlos has sent a selfie of him holding a fork. His eyes are squinty, like he’s barely awake, and there’s a hint of scruff on his face. His hair is all mussed and he looks so adorable that T.K. feels a very strong urge to kiss him.

He’s also shirtless. Which makes T.K. feel a very strong urge to put his mouth other places.

T.K.

[10:55pm] Do you ever wear a shirt?

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[10:55pm] I was in bed. This is how I sleep. And you’re welcome that I got up to prove my legitimacy to you.

T.K.

[10:55pm] Thanks. Do you want me to prove mine?

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[10:56pm] No need.

T.K.

[10:57pm] No need? What does that mean?

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[10:57pm] I know you’re real.

T.K. thinks for a minute and then his mouth falls open.

T.K.

[10:58pm] Did you background check me officer?!

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[10:58pm] …I plead the fifth….

T.K.

[10:59pm] You did!

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[11:00pm] Okay fine, I did. I wanted to know more about you.

Warmth blooms in his chest, but then is immediately doused like a bucket of cold water has been thrown on it. If Carlos ran a background check…

T.K.

[11:01pm] So…you know about the shooting then?

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[11:01pm] Yeah. And the incident at the bar.

Shit. He’d really rather Carlos not know about the bar. He wishes nobody knew about the bar. Having his dad pick him up from jail had been a low point in their first few months in Austin. It had taken weeks for his split lip to heal. At least he hadn’t been charged. He hadn’t realized there was still a record of some kind though.

T.K.

[11:02pm] Great. So you’ve seen the highlight reel of all my finest Austin moments.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[11:02pm] I actually already knew about the shooting. It was kind of big news. I just didn’t realize it was you.

T.K.

[11:03pm] Yep. That’s me. Remembered for my near death experience and getting my ass kicked.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[11:03pm] I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have looked.

T.K.

[11:03pm] It’s okay. Like you said, you already knew about the shooting. And it’s my fault the bar thing is on record anyway. It was really stupid.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[11:03pm] Everybody makes mistakes T.K.

T.K.

[11:04pm] Well I already spilled my guts to you about New York. So you know I’ve made more than a few.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[11:04pm] So have I. You just don’t know them yet.

Why does that small bit of empathetic understanding make his heart ache? His therapist would probably say something about how he always feels like he’s too much for people to handle and Carlos choosing kindness instead of running away at the first signs of T.K.’s baggage.

T.K.

[11:05pm] Do you think it’s weird that we never met before the other day? Since we’re both first responders?

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[11:05pm] Not really. Austin’s a big city.

T.K. rotates his phone in his hand a few times, getting his nerve up.

T.K.

[11:06pm] Would you want to hang out? Sometime?

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[11:09pm] Like a date?

The alarm blares and T.K. immediately shoots upward, pulling on his boots and turnout pants as everyone else does the same. The fire is a big one and they don’t get back to the station until four am. By then it’s way too late to text Carlos back and honestly, he’s too exhausted to even form words. He drops into his bunk and falls immediately asleep.

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #911lsfic #Tarlos Fic #Thirst Trap Thursday

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caterpillarinacave · 6 months

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I have. So many feelings.

#And I am SO CONTENT STARVED #SOMEONE ELSE TALK ABOUT THEM PLEASE #I am alone in a world of autistic burnout loneliness chronic pain and general suffering at the least can I not be alone on the blorbo train #Henry and Charlotte my beloveds #Particularly Henry #One more person. One more person throws them under the bus for another character.#One more. One more and I think I’ll just die.#Already have some trouble with TLH because CC swept aside like half the TID characters personalities for storytelling purposes???#But I get by and enjoy it anyway because you know it’s a good book I can set aside #But then I go off to consume TLH content and it continues?!? Bb please treat blorbos with kindess #I am on the thinnest ice with the world. And with myself. Pretty sure after this post I’ll be on thin ice with everyone reading this #Everyone in the TID and TLH is still alive and happy and unbothered because I say so

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puppyeared · 5 months

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its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

#I have an assignment that was due a week ago and I really really dont want to do it. I have to but i dont want to #im probably making it worse because my brain has built a wall around it so now i can’t do literally anything else until thats done. but #because I don’t want to do it I’m just kinda stuck. turns out this is what they meant when they said emotional regulation is part of #exec dysfunction.. I’ll have a thought like if I get a little bit of it done now i can get it over with. I can just submit something #and then not even 5 minutes later itll be like ugh but I have to draw all the assets out. I have to write things and make spreads ugh #and its just flopping between those two things. i hate it when ppl are like well how much time do you need to work on one thing #because BOY id love to know too. I’d love to know exactly when my brain wants to cooperate with me and work around that but I cant #even my period can’t decide when it wants to punch me in the stomach. which is kinda funny in the grand scheme of things but still #its so weird im just lying on my bed thinking abt all this like damn.. the time will pass anyways no matter what I decide to do.. damn….#if I submit that assignment now and take the L I literally won’t die. it’ll just be a deduction on an assignment nobody will ask me about #I know this but I’m still stressing myself about it so my thoughts aren’t really connecting to my body. weird #maybe its because Im having a hard time looking forward to things. theres definitely a lot I should be living for but I don’t really feel #a strong attachment to it I guess? it’s been like this for a while with holidays and meeting with friends so I just don’t #I kinda figured its because im pretty passionless and its more like passing interest. but it’s not very fun when it feels like I’m going to #be living distraction to distraction for the next 70 years or so lol #idk it kind of feels like slowly bleeding out. which is funny because I actually did experience blood loss this week #had a 30 minute nosebleed and literally could not stand. also it felt like someone was pinching the back of my brain which was interesting #yapping #does this count as vent #vent #Ive just been making an oc carrd and contemplate changing my blog header for the past 3 days honestly

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fishyartist · 1 month

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Ui idea tests, thrown together bc im eepy. Was planning on doing more but I spent all my days energy on the second one oops

#Danny phantom #I need to draw more or I’ll die <- guy who’s meds exhaust them #writing is so hard how do u not make everyone sound like you through a bad filter #Ik that’s unavoidable in some ways (like how art style will always look like u did it+not someone else)#but ugh. I’ll figure it out eventually takes practice+learning+all that #was planning on writing today but then I though ‘huh it might b fun to make some fake ‘’screenshot’’ concepts #also the portal basement has a more complex design but again #eepy #I think the gimmicky MySpace-inspired boxes r fun but idk how well I could keep that theme going w/ some characters #I also never used MySpace so that’s maybe just a kill issue #*skill lol #the command prompt one would basically just be for the portal #I keep saying that this project isn’t feasible buy my hyperfixated ass keeps trying anyways

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

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The dialogue writing prompt thing. Number eight with Steddie. I think Eddie saying it to Steve. Idk. It'd be cute:]

youre so right cw: weed use

8. “I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.” dialogue prompts!!

Eddie is very tired.

It's been a long... few days. (Feels like years.) And he wants to go to bed, and listen to the wind, and maybe get a little high, but as he thinks about it all he remembers where he is.

In the lobby of Hawkins Memorial Hospital, with stitches in his skin and an ice pack on his head. Next to Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley, with Steve Harrington by his side. Steve's knee won't stop bouncing up and down. Eddie can hear the rubber sole of his shoe squeaking on the tile, and after he suffers through it for another minute, he reaches out and sets his hand on him. Steve's knee freezes as soon as Eddie's hand is on it, but Eddie can feel his tenseness radiating through his jeans, can feel how anxious he is, and he wordlessly flips his hand over, holding it out.

He doesn't know what he expects, but after a moment Steve slides his hand into Eddie's, pressing their palms together and lacing their fingers. Eddie keeps staring at the floor. There's a spot of dirt on the white tile that looks how he feels. Steve's fingers tighten after a moment, and Eddie squeezes back.

They're there for a long while. Waiting. Robin falls asleep with her head on Nancy's shoulder, and Nancy rests her head on Robin’s, sighing deeply. Eddie wishes Steve would fall asleep. He seems like he could use it.

He doesn't know how long it is until a door opens and the others appear around the corner into the waiting room. Eddie and Steve pull their hands away silently, tightening as they watch everyone trickle into the room. Max, Lucas, Erica, and Dustin, followed by Max's mom, Lucas and Erica's parents, Dustin's mom, Dr Owens, and Chief Powell. Steve exhales next to Eddie. It takes a long while for them to sort everything out. The parents all look... Eddie doesn't think tired is the right word for it.

They all look scared. Even as they look at their children.

Eddie wishes he was high.

The kids don't want to go home alone, even with their respective parents, so a sleepover is organized at the Sinclairs'. Max will borrow some of Erica's pyjamas that are too big for her, and Dustin will borrow Lucas's. (Though Eddie suspects they'll all be asleep as soon as they enter the house. Especially Max, who looks like she's about to keel over any second. Lucas seems to notice it too, and keeps an arm around her the whole time.)

Goodbyes are said in the parking lot, in the brightness from the hospital that's spilling out into the night. Mr Sinclair shakes Steve and Eddie's hands and Ms Henderson hugs them both as gently as she can. Eddie feels like he's spinning, blindly hugging the kids, murmuring soft I love yous and pressing kisses to the tops of their heads, until he's standing by Steve and watching the cars peel out of the parking lot.

Nancy sighs heavily again.

"You're with me?" Steve asks Eddie softly. Eddie looks at him. His eyes reflect the hospital lights in a way that looks holy.

"Yeah," he says.

He sits shotgun while Steve drives to drop the girls off at Nancy's, getting out to hug them and accept the kisses they press to his cheeks, and then he watches Steve walk them up to the front door, hugging them both tenderly before he whispers something to Robin that makes her smack the back of his head. Steve is snickering when he comes back to the car, and it makes Eddie smile.

"Ready?" Steve asks, like they're going on an adventure instead of going home.

Home.

"Do you think... we can stop by my place first?" Eddie asks weakly. "I wanna get... some stuff."

"Yeah," Steve says, pulling out of the Wheelers' driveway. "What do you wanna get?"

"Uh." Eddie sighs. "Some clothes. Keepsakes. Cash. Wayne doesn't know where I hide it, I bet he didn't get it when they made him leave. And, uh..."

"And?"

"Okay, you can't judge me," Eddie says, opening his mouth to speak and make excuses for himself, but Steve interrupts with a quiet, "Never."

Eddie smiles at him for a moment.

"I kinda really wanna get high," he says. "I'm just... I'm so fucking tired, man, and my stitches hurt like a bitch, and I'm..." He trails off, unsure of what to say. He doesn't have that many reasons. He feels like he should have more, like he needs excuse after excuse to get high, but Steve just nods.

"I feel you," he says. "I have some weed at home, but it's not a lot."

"Steve Harrington," Eddie says, relaxing into his seat with relief. "Where've you been my whole life?"

Steve laughs quietly.

"Right here, man."

The trailer is taped off when they get to it, but they don't let it stop them. (It's not like Eddie's never broken in anywhere. Plus, he isn't even actually stealing tonight. It's all his.) If they get arrested, Powell is in on everything now. It'll be fine.

Eddie finds some bags and Steve helps him stuff them full of sweaters and jeans and shirts and handfuls of socks and underwear. Eddie finds his lunchbox in the living room, untouched and unbothered, and he supposes it makes sense that the military government men don't actually care that much about drugs in the grand scheme of things. He fills the lunchbox with the cash from the false bottom of his sock drawer. Steve watches, an almost curious expression on his face. Eddie does one last sweep of the room as Steves takes the bags out to his car. He presses a kiss to his guitar, silently promising he'll be back for her, He finds a bong under his bed and carries it out of the house with him, holding it up as Steve starts the car. Steve grins at him. (He's got an amazing smile. It lights up his whole face like a lamp.)

Steve’s house is eerily quiet when they get there. Silence isn’t all that weird in and of itself, Eddie thinks, but the house is so… big. Like there should be twenty people living here, and not just Steve by himself. Even at the trailer, there's always some kind of noise, the tap dripping, the radiator clicking, the wind making the windows rattle. But the Harrington house is so silent Eddie can hear his own heart beating.

Steve pauses in the doorway, taking a breath that almost echoes in the emptiness, and Eddie’s heart suddenly aches as he thinks about Steve coming home all alone, day after day, night after night. Sitting in the empty loneliness.

“Steve,” Eddie says softly as he follows Steve inside, watching as Steve turns to face him, holding one of Eddie’s bags.

“Yeah?”

Eddie hesitastes for just a moment before he steps forward, shutting the door behind himself, and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck in a tight hug. Steve hugs him back just as desperately, and it’s a little awkward because they’re both carrying Eddie’s bags, and Eddie can’t get as close as he wants to. Which is probably a good thing.

With the door shut, there’s no light in the house at all. It’s pitch dark, but Eddie doesn’t really care. Steve asks if everything is okay, his voice soft and breathy right by Eddie’s ear, and Eddie almost cries. His eyes burn, and he nods for a moment as he swallows, desperate for his voice not to break.

“Yeah.”

They separate after a few moments, slowly, like they don’t really want to let go.

Steve leads Eddie up to the guest room. Shows him how to turn on the shower, adjust the temperature.

When he leaves to take a shower in his own room, Eddie’s body aches. Like Steve’s absence makes him hurt. That’s probably not healthy, he thinks to himself. But when has Eddie ever had healthy habits? And in the grand scheme of things, Eddie doesn’t think a little codependency is the end of the world.

The shower is nice. The water is nice and hot, the water pressure even and hard enough on his back that he relaxes. He watches dry blood and dirt and Upside Down grime wash across the white tile floor and down the drain.

He gets cold when he gets out of the shower and quickly scrubs his hair dry with the towel before he dresses, grabs the bong and lunchbox, and heads downstairs.

Steve is in the kitchen, searching through the fridge, when Eddie gets there. His hair is dripping wet, and the sweater he’s wearing is too big, loose and hanging down to reveal his chest when he bends down.

“You hungry?” Steve asks, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. His eyes glance up and down. Eddie pretends not to notice.

“Maybe a little.”

Steve pulls some Tupperware out of the fridge and sets it on the counter before he reaches back in, looking back at Eddie.

“Did you re-bandage your stitches?”

“Uh, no,” Eddie says. He sets the box and bong on the island, watching as Steve pulls out two cans of Coke. “They’re not bleeding or anything.”

“Should still keep them covered,” Steve says. “So they don’t get caught on your clothes.”

“I don’t have…”

Steve just shakes his head.

“I got it.”

He pulls a first aid kit out from under the sink. Everything looks brand new, except the bottle of painkillers. Eddie leans against the counter as Steve pushes his shirt up, kneeling in front of him and carefully, gently bandaging him up.

Eddie laughs.

“What?” Steve questions, shooting a look up at him.

“Just…” Eddie sighs, looking at the ceiling, wincing as Steve presses medical tape to his skin so it sticks. “Helped prevent the end of the world. Somehow survived. Now I’m… standing in Steve Harrington’s kitchen.”

Steve laughs softly, moving onto Eddie’s other side. There are fewer stitches there, but the skin is all mangled. Steve is so gentle Eddie barely feels it.

“Who would’ve thought?” he says softly. Eddie just hums in response.

They’re eye to eye when he stands up. Eddie can’t tell which of them is taller. Steve’s eyes catch on his cheek, and he puts his fingers to Eddie's jaw, gently making him turn his face. Before Eddie can say anything, Steve is finding an ointment in the first aid kid and smearing it carefully over his cheek before he murmurs, “Tilt your chin up,” and Eddie looks up at the ceiling. Steve’s fingers press ointment over the injury on his neck. That one isn’t that bad, but Steve is still careful, almost tender. He bandages his cheek next, his teeth caught between his teeth and his brows furrowed in concentration.

Eddie takes the ointment when he’s done and wordlessly touches the underside of Steve's chin, making him look up so Eddie can do the same to his neck.

“When did you take the painkillers at the hospital?” Steve asks as they settle on the sofa.

“Uh.” Eddie hesitates, crossing his legs as he sorts out the weed. “Maybe two hours ago? Ish?”

“Think they have you to four to six hour ones,” Steve says. “Should last a while. If you need more in a few hours tell me.”

“Might not need ‘em,” Eddie says as he works. “If this works.”

Steve leans back against the armrest of the sofa and pops open a Coke as Eddie smokes, the empty house filling with the sound of the bong bubbling. He holds the smoke in his lungs until it burns, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back to blow the smoke at the ceiling.

“Yup.”

Steve snorts, and Eddie grins, opening his eyes to pass him the bong and the lighter.

“What would happen if your parents walked in right now?” Eddie asks, watching Steve he takes a hit, and Steve coughs, laughing as he blows the smoke out.

“They’d lose their shit,” he says, grinning. “Don’t know what they’d be more upset about, that I’m smoking weed or that I’m getting high with Eddie fuckin’ Munson.”

Eddie laughs, almost giggling, like it’s a compliment.

Steve takes another hit, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhales, and Eddie watches raptly, like he’s studying him.

Slowly, the pain in Eddie’s waist subsides, and he relaxes into the sofa, staring at Steve as they pass the bong and lighter back and forth, as they nibble at the fruit from the fridge, as they sip their Cokes. Eddie doesn’t even really know what they’re talking about anymore, but Steve is smiling, so it doesn’t matter.

The room is a little brighter when Steve smiles. Eddie’s eyes are stuck.

“You’re so annoying,” he says. Steve’s smile broadens, and he snorts.

“What the fuck did I do?”

Eddie huffs, taking a hit, watching Steve. He’s leaning against the back of the sofa now, slumping. His hair is almost dry, frizzy and wavier than Eddie expected.

“You’re so perfect,” Eddie complains, mentally cursing his lack of filter when he’s high. “Even in school, fucking… Golden boy Steve Harrington.”

Steve snorts, laughing quietly, childishly. Eddie likes seeing him like this. Relaxed, his brain quiet.

“Not so perfect anymore,” Steve says softly, still smiling.

“No,” Eddie disagrees. “Still perfect.” Steve rolls his head on the back of the sofa to look at him. Eddie nods. “Golden boy, perfect golden boy.”

Steve is smiling. His cheeks are flushed but Eddie can’t tell if it’s because of the weed or not.

“I mean seriously,” he says, because he can never shut up. It’s part of his charm. (Or lack thereof.) “I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”

Steve giggles.

Eddie passes him the bong and drains his Coke while he takes a hit.

“What do you think of when you look at me?” he asks as Steve blows smoke at the ceiling.

Steve looks at him, his eyes glassy.

“Don’t know,” he says softly. “‘S not really… like.” He takes a breath. “An image. I guess. Like, I see your face, but when I think about you, ‘s more of like…” He looks at the ground, his mouth twisting as he thinks. “A feeling.”

Eddie looks at him, his breath catching in his throat.

“What kind of feeling?” he asks, taking the bong from him. Steve barely seems to notice, looking at the ground. He’s quiet, his lips almost curved into a smile.

“Don’t know. Kinda… In my stomach,” Steve says quietly, almost mumbling. Eddie listens closely. “‘Nd my… my chest.” He runs his hand over his chest, over his heart. Eddie lowers the bong to his lap, his eyes following the movement. “Like a twisty kinda feeling.”

“Like you’re sick?” Eddie questions. Steve takes another breath.

“Kinda,” he says softly. “But like… a good sick. Like a…” He gestures vaguely with his hand, his fingers moving. “Like a fluttery sick.”

“Like… butterflies?” Eddie asks quietly.

“…Yeah.”

Eddie smiles, raising his eyebrows.

“Sounds like you gotta crush on me, Stevie.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, still staring at the ground, and Eddie wonders if he heard him, before Steve blinks and his face shifts. Hardens. His brows furrow slightly like he’s thinking, and then his eyes widen and he looks at Eddie.

Oh.

“Steve?” Eddie asks quietly, looking at him, and Steve looks away sharply, the hand that touched his chest reaching for his hair.

“Shit.”

He gets up, and Eddie’s eyes widen, and this must be the actual Upside Down, because Eddie’s world has been flipped over. The ugly paintings on the walls all fall to the ceiling, and the burnt wood in the fireplace falls up the chimney, and Steve doesn’t notice.

“Shit,” he says again. He’s pulling at his own hair, pacing across the room. “Shit.”

Eddie follows him up, putting the bong on the ground and dropping the lighter. It bounces off the carpet and lands under the sofa.

“Steve,” he says, reaching for his shoulder. “Hey.”

Steve turns when he pulls at his shoulder, and Eddie looks into his red-rimmed, teary eyes.

“‘S okay,” he says softly, pulling Steve closer. He reaches for the hand in his hair, gently pulling it away. “It’s okay.”

“‘M sorry,” Steve chokes, breathing hard, and Eddie shakes his head, reaching to hold Steve’s face.

“Don’t be,” he says softly, smiling. “Don’t be sorry, it’s okay. Breathe, Stevie.”

Steve inhales deeply, looking anxiously between Eddie’s eyes. Eddie nods.

“It’s okay,” he says when Steve exhales slowly. His thumbs brush over Steve’s cheeks.

“Eddie,” Steve says weakly. Eddie pulls his face forward and kisses his forehead gently.

“‘S okay,” he murmurs.

When he pulls away Steve’s eyes are closed, and Steve’s hands find him, hesitant and gentle and soft on his waist like he’s scared Eddie’s going to fight him off. Eddie steps closer.

“I like you too,” he says softly. Steve’s eyes flutter open and find Eddie’s.

“What?” he asks breathlessly, his eyes shining again, filling with tears.

“I have a crush on you,” Eddie says quietly, slowly. “Like a huge, debilitating crush.”

Steve’s eyes unfocus, trained on Eddie’s mouth like he’s trying to find the words written in the air between them.

“Really?” he asks so quietly Eddie almost can’t hear him.

Eddie grins.

“Really really. Like, since high school.”

“Woah,” Steve breathes. Slowly, his hands find Eddie’s cheeks, gentle over the bandage that Eddie forgot about, gentle over his skin. Eddie's eyes flutter shut when Steve leans closer, sighing when their lips brush, and then they’re kissing. It’s a brief kiss, soft and tentative and nervous, but Eddie is breathless and almost dizzy when they part.

Eddie pushes his fingers into Steve’s hair, smiling softly when Steve exhales slowly, shakily.

“I think…” Steve starts quietly, his forehead resting on Eddie’s. “…I may be too high for this.”

Eddie giggles quietly.

“We can talk tomorrow,” he whispers softly. Steve hums, tilting his head and closing his eyes.

“Kiss me again?” Steve murmurs, nudging their noses together.

“Thought you were too high for this,” Eddie breathes. He’s just as high as Steve is. The room is spinning a little bit.

“I know, I just…” Steve stops, swallowing and licking his lips and looking at Eddie with a desperation in his eyes that makes Eddie ache. “I just want…”

Eddie kisses him. Hard, and lingering, just a firm press of his lips to Steve’s, and a soft whimper escapes Steve’s throat, his hands tightening on Eddie.

Eddie kisses him again when they part, tilting his head, and then again, and again until Steve feels like he’s about to fall over, leaning against Eddie heavily.

“Woah,” Steve says again, his arms now around Eddie’s waist. Eddie grins, pushing his hair back.

He pulls Steve into a tight hug, gentle over his bandaged sides, and Steve presses his face into Eddie’s neck, taking a heavy breath. Eddie tugs him over to the sofa, and it takes them a moment to get situated, finding a position that doesn’t strain Eddie’s stitches, that doesn’t put weight on their sides. Eddie ends up on top of Steve, his head on his chest, Steve’s hand tracing over his back and slowly dragging through his tangled curls. Eddie holds his other hand and presses kisses to his knuckles before he holds his hand to his face.

And Eddie falls asleep, excited, for the first time in many long years, for the sun to rise.

#me: i’ll just write some quick one shots for these requests it should take no time at all #also me: i need a plot and angst and it’s going to take me two business days because if i don’t put my soul into this i’ll die #will i ever make steve not cry #probably not #anyway they cuddle on the sofa and wake up to dustin’s voice saying ‘IS THAT A BONG’#i think i said 'bong' more times in this than ive ever said in my entire life #is it super obvious i dont do weed #anyway this was very fun ty for the request <3 #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

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the-meme-monarch · 5 months

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christmas has always kinda made me feel awkward and bad for different reasons but now it’s just “the day before my cat died”. the entire month of december is just “remember when your cat died?” “hey it’s your sibling’s birthday :]” “remember when your cat died?.” “merry christmas. tomorrow is the anniversary of when your cat died.” “good morning it’s the anniversary of when your cat died.”

#i know she was old. i know she didn’t have much longer. i don’t blame myself. i just wish I didn’t remember what day it was.#i don’t remember what day or month it was when we found clawdya dead. i don’t know what day phantom died. i just remember it was july #it’s easier to. not think about them when I don’t remember when it was.#but i watched arctic die the morning after christmas.#i don’t. really. want any more pets in my life. because I keep looking at tawny and copper and rusty and thinking.#about how one day they’re going to die. and I’ll have to watch. and I don’t want to do that again.#i have to take care of them and watch them grow old and watch them die. and wake up every morning between and after. and I don’t like it.#behead the monarch

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callixton · 4 months

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oh i am on the Brink of a mental breakdown. and like a real one. i am going to feel so so fucking terrible and guilty if i don’t go to the first week of mac rehearsal bc i need to recover but i am also getting the sense that i Need to recover. i have never been this burnt out or genuinely terrified of starting a new semester in my life.

#we go back to campus a week early for mac. to be clear #and god they’ll be long days and they’ll be physically emotionally and mentally draining and i genuinely dont know if i can take that #but i am also going to be missing SO much time. and i won’t be there to support the people who i need to #i have also. been thinking a lot about how i’m scared that i think so much abt death bc i’m gonna be one of those people #who seem even more than everyone else like they have a finite time and then they die young #and then my mom compared me to jonathan larson tonight #so maybe that’s some sort of sign that i need to slow the fuck down #i am crying rn. for myself. which happens about three times a year #and yeah one is usually during winter break so we’re on schedule #i don’t know. idk!! i don’t know what to do here #and i still have to do my fucking scene prep for tomorrow #bc i was talking my mom about it and i really needed support which she was giving and then she has to leave for five seconds #and when she came back the entire conversation was just about her own problems again which we’ve already talked about every fucking night bc #- you can’t leave conversations with her and i hate when she fucking drunks i hate it i hate it #i am Not Well. i’ve sort of been avoiding admitting to myself just how badly #but man. i can push through anything until i drop but when i start wishing that i’ll drop so i have an excuse for a break….. not good #ted talks #the west wing

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feralsteddie · 1 year

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So i need to hear about you Steve & Argyle friendship thoughts because I keep seeing them in your tags and I think they’re such an underrated duo that would probably get along so well together?????

ohmygod THANK YOU I’ve been waiting for an excuse to go off about them. Fics always leave out Argyle or have Steve just think he’s Jonathan’s weird friend and like, I get it, but we could do so much better guys

Like okay I have a couple of different ideas for them. One is nearly canon compliant (aka Hawkins still splits open so we still gotta wait on a boss fight, but Eddie lives, bc I said so) and the other is au where Vecna bites it, Eddie just got a lil nibbled, the charges got dropped, and everything is in the realm of fine. Gunna talk about the first one. This is definitely a bit of a mess of rambles. Enjoy.

It takes a while for them to actually have their first conversation, given everything.

Argyle is with Jon most of the time, who’s with his siblings in the cabin they’re fixing up, all hyperfocused on the impending return of Vecna and the town cracking open. Steve is running around the hospital between Max and Eddie’s room and threatening doctors if they even look at Eddie sideways or if he thinks Max isn't getting proper treatment.

So they just… don’t really cross paths. Argyle’s heard some of the stories about Steve from Jon, so he’s not too quick to go seek him out and Steve just could not care less about the other new guy along for the ride, he's too busy. Doesn’t even learn his name until about two weeks after they get to town and Robin dragged him by his ear to the cabin bc it was the only other place he'd relent to being at the moment.

Their first full conversation is actually about Argyle's daily foraging. He sees Argyle walking around, avoiding the traps and occassionally stopping to pick something and drop it in his bag. So, he's curious, and Steve's been friends with genius children and Robin long enough to be a good listener for things he doesn't quite get, but unlike the fifteen year old assholes Argyle seems cool with answering his questions.

With the ground kind of rotting out from the cracks in Hawkins, and the increasing likelihood the gov is gunna put up a quarantine any day now, they talk about how to best dry and keep things. Medicinal vs Food, how they can sub out ingredients in recipes for what they can find because it turned out they were both pretty damn good cooks.

From then on it just kind of turns into a Thing.

They both see how the other isn't really taken seriously by anyone in the group. Like, their respective best friends love them and don't look down on them, but there's always this kind of air that whenever they open their mouths they're gunna get some eyerolls. Argyle is the guy who can drive, Steve is the guy that gets hit a lot. They're not really necessary for planning.

So they help as much as they can in other places, together.

They make sure the group is fed, and sleeps, and doesn't do anything that raises their potential of being killed any more than necessary. (Joyce and Hop try, they really do, but they're busy harrassing government officials)

Jon hates how they get along, like, don’t get him wrong he knows Steve’s changed, is a good guy and all that, but come on Argyle is his best friend thanks and with how weird everything had been with Nancy he’d really like custody of Argyle back thanks.

Robin thinks it’s nice Steve has another friend their age, and knows how much easier having him around made getting used to the whole Monsters Are Real thing. (That being said, they require a certain amount of Robin-Steve one on one time or they WILL die. Or at the very least be insufferable to everyone around them)

Argyle got Steve into pineapple on pizza.

Steve braids Argyle’s hair whenever he needs to get it out of the way.

They talk to each other about their parental situations, about feeling like they’d never be what their parents wanted them to be. Argyle’s parents worked hard, wanted him to go to university and find a well-paying career; didn’t like that he was perfectly content with community college and kind of just wanted to open up his own restaurant one day. Steve's pretty sure his parents were disappointed the day he was born, and completely gave up by the time he only got back rejection letters. Argyle misses his, they were so worried when he’d gone missing for a few days, and their worry didn’t get any less when he finally called and told them where he was, but they’re not going to force him back. Steve’s parents still haven’t called, and he wonders if they remember that he’s still in Hawkins at all.

They don't hang out all the time. They've each got their respective best friends, and Argyle and Jon are usually the only two who manage to wrangle Mike, Will, and El. Who are constantly trying to sneak away to enact some half-baked plan they're sure will end it this time. Steve's got Dustin and Erica by the scruffs of their necks half the time, and his hands still full at the hospital the other.

They find out the two of them make a really good monster hunting pair though. Rob, Steve and Argyle end up on the same Team during scraps with the Upside Down Monsters. They've both got the most insane observation skills. Each quick on their feet and are really good with improvised weaponry. (Robin's able to fill in the pieces based on things they point out, is kind of the only one who really takes what they say seriously enough to utilise it.)

Argyle becomes the second person to come out to him on a bathroom floor while bloody. Argyle doesn't even really think anything of it, didn't even realise Steve hadn't known about his gigantic crush on Jonathan, just made an offhand joke about hoping his best friend thought the new gash on the side of his arm was as cool as the matching one he had with Nancy. They apent about an hour just talking about how he'd liked Jon from the moment he met him. Thought the awkward loner was cute and sweet and even after he found out he had a girlfriend back home he'd still wanted to be around him. Was content to be his best friend as long as he was happy, and did his best to move on with other people he could see himself caring for.

About a month after Eddie's back, Steve makes the third coming out to happen while bleeding on a bathroom floor. He'd kind of already known that he liked guys, but hadn't ever really thought too hard about it before. But he was having a bit of a freak out and Argyle and Rob both just squeezed into the dry bathtub with him. Let him have a full panic about liking a guy he'd kind of hated before spring break, a most likely straight guy who'd bodied a demodog that'd tried to sneak up on him and- hey did he mention just how hot that had been after they'd both calmed down from a mutual panic attack?

After that Rob, Argyle, and Steve will occassionally just get together to scream about their crushes. Robin still not sure what's happening with Vickie but they held hands guys, girls hold their friend's hands alll the time though right???

They smoke about it, a lot.py

#thank you so much I just need to talk about them or I’ll die actually #argyle (stranger things)#steve harrington #sorry this took a couple of days my sibling was getting married and prep was HECTIC #there's some slight jargyle rockie and steddie in here #but the main focus is argyle and steve #i defintiely have about a million different little hc's for their friendship #i just!!! think they're both so underestimated #so you put them together and they'd be able to value each other's opinions like no one else seems to be able to #and!!! they often ask very reasonable questions and point the right stuff out!!!#sorry they are... important to me #i'm in love with argyle and steve individually in general so just... slap them together okey #Robin: oh thank god he has a second friend. i was worried. last time i hung out with someone else i cam home and he was sitting on my steps #so yeah there's more my head's just on 50% sorry #pyreposting #pyresmailbox

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