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sweatervest-obsessed · 1 month

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Some angst for your morning <3 Love a little fight scene.

wc: 700 (ish)

"You're trying to distract me."

You hummed and shook your head, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

It was very obvious that you were, in fact, trying to distract Spencer from his work. But you couldn't help yourself!

He had been ordered to take the weekend off, Hotch crediting 'burnout' as his reasoning. Spencer did not take likely to this, since it made him feel as though he was slipping, he wasn't good enough for the team.

You, however, were thrilled by the fact that Spencer was forced to take a long weekend.

"Yes. You are."

"Well maybe if you actually took the time off like you were suposed to instead of ignoring me all fucking weekend then we wouldn't have to make me feel like shit for asking for attention from you for one minute." You muttered under your breath, chucking the pillow down where you had been sitting, moving towards the kitchen and away from the living room.

What Spencer had failed to consider was just how happy you were to have him home for a weekend. He failed to recognize the assurance that came with him telling you his definitive whereabouts for three days. He failed to notice the tension leave your shoulders, the smile that edged it way onto your face. Spencer was too busy internalizing what Hotch had said about working to much to realize, that you were hoping to spend this time with him.

Not just sitting in the same room as him as he barely slept and did the exact opposite of what Hotch told him to do.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." Came your voice from the other room, causing Spencer to frown, because he knew what you said, and he knew that you knew what he said---he could start to see the burnout when he realized how quickly he would spiral in his thoughts.

"Shit."

Placing the book down on the coffee table, he followed where you had gone to, stopping in the door frame.

"What do you want Spencer." Tone flat.

"I-I...You were hoping for more time together this weekend."

You snorted and turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Someone is finally back on their profiling game I see."

This caused Spencer's cheek to tinge red. He had failed to notice the basic signs of you being upset--Hotch was right. He did need time off.

"I'm sorry."

"That would mean more if it wasn't Monday night and you didn't have work tomorrow."

Spencer dragged a hand down his face. "I don't want to fight."

"I do." You said simply, looking at him expectantly. You were pissed, rightfully so. And up until now, you hadn't said anything. Admittedly, you should have said something to Spencer earlier. However, you were sure that Spencer wouldn't have actually given you his time or focus if you did.

"I--" He just looked at you. "I really don't know what to say to that."

"That's fine. You don't need to say anything. Maybe you should work on your listening skills instead."

"That's not--"

"Fair? I don't know, I think it is. Hotch told you to take the long weekend off to give your brain a break. And did you listen to him? No. I told you about plans I was hoping we would make for this weekend on Friday, that I know you didn't remember. And this whole weekend, you never actually listened to me, barely processing anything I said."

You took a breath, trying to calm yourself down in the moment, but not diminishing your thoughts, because you were right. And Spencer knew it to.

"What can I do to make it up to you."

You looked at him for a moment before shaking your head. "I really don't know Spence. I don't know." You brushed past him, headed towards the bedroom. It's not to say that you lost your fighting spirit, it's just that you were so severely let down by the man you loved that you didn't really know what to say anymore.

Spencer was unsure as to what to do. So he just stood there, watching as you walked away, not moving to stop you. Only flinching when the door to your shared bedroom slammed, and he was still on the other side of it.

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she-dwells-within-the-forest · 3 months

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I keep seeing posts asking Larian to add a hug option for that scene with Astarion. While I understand it, I completely disagree, and I hope it's never added in.

That scene isn't about Tav. That scene isn't about their relationship, romanced or not. It's solely about Astarion, and the beginning of his journey toward healing.

Sometimes I think about hugging and why we do it. I think a hug in that moment would be more about comforting ourselves through an uncomfortable moment, rather than actually offering any comfort to Astarion. I don't think he would have the capacity to fully take it in or accept it. The brain operates at such a primitive level when you're experiencing trauma. Therefore, it's best to hold back and let him be.

He needs to have that moment for himself, alone. To scream for the rage, the grief, the sadness, the terror, the pain. All of it, all 200 years of it. Long before he met Tav and the gang.

It's perfect as it is, and when he's ready he comes to you and thanks you. Perhaps a hug option at that point would be more appropriate? But again, I feel it really isn't necessary. It's already perfect.

#just my thought ramblings #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion #astarion ancunin #i guess this sort of discourse #sorry guys #just been seeing it alot and have alot of thoughts about it

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ihni · 1 month

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Billy Hargrove has been dead for little over two months when Steve opens the door to find him on the doorstep, dirty and pale and shaking. He stares at Steve with wide eyes – bluer than Steve remembers – before he collapses into a heap of dirty limbs halfway across the threshold. Steve pulls him inside, disposes of him in the couch in the living room, and naturally proceeds to freak the fuck out.

After some processing, he decides that he must be experiencing a very vivid dream – and honestly, it’s a welcome change after the usual nightmares – and since it’s merely a dream, he opens a bottle of his dad’s best whiskey, because where’s the harm, right?

An hour later finds Steve sitting on the floor with his back to an armchair, predictably drunk and watching Billy sleep. Or possibly being unconscious. It doesn’t really matter which, since it’s only a dream.

Turns out, though, that it’s not a dream – or if it is, it’s a damn weird one. Because Billy wakes up, and when he looks around the room and spots Steve there, he starts to cry, which. Is not something that Steve’s brain could ever dream up, alcohol-soaked or not. And Billy feels solid enough under Steve’s hand, when he awkwardly pats the other boy’s shaking shoulders.

The events that have taken place are eventually revealed, but make no sense to either of them. Apparently Billy woke up somewhere dark and cramped (the coffin, he doesn’t say, but Steve hears it anyway), promptly panicked, and … broke out, somehow. Dug himself out from the rain-soaked earth, and stumbled along the roads until he saw a house he recognized. Which was Steve’s house.

It’s impossible, Steve knows. Billy has been dead for months. Steve saw him die – had first row seats to the sight of him getting impaled by a monster made out of meat and bones – and coming back from the dead after all that is simply not possible. Yet here Billy is, sitting on the floor of Steve’s living room, not a mark on him.

(Literally. There are no marks, no scars. Just smooth skin where they both know he was speared through.)

They spend the rest of the night slowly making their way through Steve’s dad’s expensive whiskey.

In the morning, Billy says, voice hoarse; “I need you to drive me to California.”

Steve thinks of asking why. Thinks of Max, thinks of Billy’s parents, thinks of telling the Party or the police or at least some adult who would possibly know what to do. What he says, though, is “Okay.” The world swims, and he adds, belatedly, “Tomorrow, though. I’m too drunk to drive now.”

A snort is the last thing he hears before he falls asleep where he’s sitting.

~~~

Half the next day is spent nursing hangovers and realizing that nope, last night wasn’t a dream or an alcohol-induced hallucination. The other half is spent making preparations for the trip.

Now when Steve is sober, he revisits the idea to simply tell someone. Billy being back is a miracle, and there are people mourning him, people who has missed him –

Billy shuts that down hard and fast. “No one is mourning me here,” he says, voice gravel-rough. “If they act like they do, it’s because they’re feeling guilty. There’s nothing left for me here.” He licks his lips, and his next words are a whisper. “I never wanted to come here in the first place.”

And, like. If he really thinks about it, Steve realizes that they wouldn’t be able to keep Billy being back a secret if he stayed in Hawkins. And if they tell Max, or Billy’s family, then word would spread. The government would no doubt hear of it. There would be a high probability of Billy being taken in for tests, experimentation, whatever else.

He doesn’t deserve that, Steve thinks as he watches Billy emerge from the shower wearing borrowed clothes. Because Billy died saving them. Sacrificed himself for them, even when they’d done so little to try to save him. This? Driving Billy to California? It’s the least Steve can do for him.

~~~

They get on the road the next day. Steve has taken time off work blaming the death of an elderly aunt and a rare family gathering, and been as vague as he can get away with concerning how long he’ll be away. Early in the morning, they put their bags – Billy’s is a borrowed one, containing only Steve’s things since he has nothing of his own and understandably didn’t want to keep the clothes he had on when he was buried – in the trunk of the car, and get in.

Steve is driving. When they pass the “Leaving Hawkins” sign, Billy lets out an audible sigh and slumps down in his seat. Steve glances over at him, and Billy explains without being prompted; “I always hated this town. I can’t believe they fucking buried me here.”

His incredulousness over the fact draws a snort out of Steve.

~~~

It’s strange, how easy it is to get used to having Billy Hargrove next to him while in a confined space. Stranger yet, how well they get along considering their history. And even more strange, how different Billy seems now, when they’ve left Hawkins behind them.

Or perhaps it’s not strange at all – at least not in comparison to all the other weird stuff they’ve both seen and somehow lived through. In the great scheme of things, one young man coming back from the dead and wanting to go back home doesn’t even make the top ten list of weird shit.

Billy is surprisingly funny, and witty, and smart – and it is dazzling without the sharp edges. It takes Steve a while to recognize what is missing, and when he does, it makes him watch Billy with new eyes. Because Billy doesn’t seem to exist behind a layer of anger anymore. The tension is gone. The further they get from Hawkins, the easier Billy seems to breathe.

The change is remarkable. Makes Steve think that he probably never knew who Billy really was, before this.

He finds himself thinking that he is looking forward to getting to know the real Billy.

~~~

They take turns driving. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they sit in companionable silence, and sometimes whoever’s in the passenger seat naps while the other drives. They stop at gas stations to stock up on gas and snacks, and at diners for food. That first night, they drive straight through, but the next night they stop at a motel for some proper sleep in a bed.

They share a room, but lie in separate beds. They talk for hours in the dark before falling asleep.

“I never wanted to be buried underground,” Billy says, when they’re both on the edge of sleep. “They knew that.”

“What did you want, then?” Steve asks, never having considered an alternative.

“I wanted to get back to the ocean,” Billy says. “Have my ashes spread over the surface of the water and become one with the waves again.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. That he’s sorry that even Billy’s own family didn’t respect his final wishes? That it sucks that they buried his body in the dirt of a town he hated, leaving him to rot there forever when he never even wanted to come there in the first place?

“’One with the waves’ … That sounds beautiful,” he decides on. And then, as an aside, “I’ve never even seen the ocean.”

Steve can hear the smile in Billy’s voice when he speaks next. “You’re going to love it. It’s … everything.”

~~~

They get closer – to California, and to each other – and the closer they get, the less urgency Steve feels to get to their destination. Because what will happen when they get there? Steve can’t just leave Billy there without a means to support himself. Without a home, without a car, without money – without someone to take care of him. Steve can’t help it – he worries.

And then he looks at Billy’s smiling face next to him, and feels his worries being washed away.

He still finds himself taking the scenic route more often than not. Insisting on taking detours to see the sights. Claiming he’s too tired to drive unless he takes a break.

Billy smiles as if he knows what Steve is doing, but he doesn’t make a comment. Doesn’t complain. Seems to enjoy this little bubble they’re in together, in Steve’s car with the world passing them by outside.

It’s strange. But it’s nice, too. Steve kind of doesn’t want it to end.

~~~

The last night, they stop at a motel an hour or two from their destination. They could have kept on driving, but none of them seemed to want to. So they get a room, as usual. Steve pays, as usual. There are two beds, as usual.

Yet, when it’s time to sleep, Billy forgoes his own bed and goes to stand by Steve’s. There’s a question in the air between them, unasked.

Steve answers by peeling back the comforter in invitation. His mouth is dry and his heart is beating like a drum in his chest as Billy climbs in next to him.

They don’t speak much, that night. But they kiss. And they hold each other.

“I never wanted to come to Hawkins,” Billy whispers between kisses. “And I hated it there. But I met you, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”

The next morning, they wake up in each other’s arms.

~~~

“I’ll show you my home,” Billy says when they get back in the car after breakfast. Steve is back behind the wheel, because he wants a reason to keep his eyes on the road. If he watches Billy too much, he’ll do something stupid – like turn the car around and go back to Hawkins with Billy still in it, or perhaps decide not to go back to Hawkins at all, himself. Just, stay here with Billy, for a while longer.

It’s a fantasy that hurts, so he pushes it down. Concentrates on following Billy’s directions, and drive through a city bigger than one he’s ever been in.

(When he first spots the glittering blue between buildings, he gasps. So does Billy.)

They drive through the city, then out of it. Along a winding road with fewer and fewer buildings around, the ocean vast and terrifyingly endless to their right. Eventually Billy directs them down a gravel road that doesn’t have a sign and looks like it might lead onto private property. Steve would worry, would perhaps protest, if it wasn’t for the longing on Billy’s face.

They have to walk the last bit, Billy says. They get out of the car. It’s hours before noon, but it’s already warm. Steve’s in just a T-shirt, and for a second he his face to the sun to feel the warmth of it on his skin – before turning to Billy only to see him turned to the sun, too. Like a flower in bloom.

He looks golden, in this light.

After a short walk down a steep incline, they end up on a little beach. A tiny one, empty, with rocky outcrops on either side which makes it seem like they’re the only people on earth. The sand is fine and pale under their feet, the water lapping at the edges of it and then stretching out in front of them until it meets the horizon, far far away.

It’s beautiful. But it’s not exactly a house. And didn’t Billy say he’d show Steve his home?

“Mom used to take me here when I was a kid,” Billy says, kicking off his shoes. Steve does the same, and pulls off his socks as well. “We used to come here all the time.” Billy holds out his hand with a smile, and Steve takes it. They make their way to the water. “She’d watch me play in the water for hours, sitting on a towel, just listening to the waves and the seagulls.” The first step into the water is a shock – it’s cold, but not freezing. It almost feels alive. Steve takes a tentative step after Billy, bolstered by Billy’s widening smile. “I think taking me here was the most peaceful she ever got to be. It was for me, at least. The best times of my childhood.”

They stand there in the surf, feet in the water and holding hands, when Billy turns to Steve. His eyes are shining with unshed tears and his smile is wobbly as he places his hands on either sides of Steve’s face and leans in for the softest of kisses; their lips just barely brushing against each other.

“Thank you,” he says, and Steve’s heart skips a beat because it sounds like goodbye, “for not letting me stay buried in Indiana.”

He backs up a step. Brushes a tear from Steve’s cheek – that he hadn’t realized had fallen – and turns towards the endless sea. Takes a deep breath and starts walking.

Steve wants to reach out to stop him, wills himself to to say something, but he can’t. Somehow, he knows that this is where they were heading from the start. This is why they had to go here.

As Steve watches, Billy … dissolves. Like in a movie. One moment he is solid, and the next he’s … not. He turns to dust in front of Steve’s eyes, fine dust that glitters like gold in a sudden ray of sunlight. It – he – is spread out over the water, is carried over the clear surface by the gentle breeze.

Instead of being trapped in the ground inland, he becomes one with the waves again.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #sorry guys #canonical character death #got a scene stuck in my head and had to get it out #look at me keeping around the 2K mark!

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tiredofthehumanlife · 2 months

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Before proceeding: Luke's a tad wild one might say. Crazy, possibly. Spooky, mayhaps.

Bestfriend!Luke coming over to your cabin to walk you to dinner. You know this and you know all about his crush. You know all about his fantasies, and his tendency of thievery. You may or may not have left your underwear purposely hanging on the rim of the hamper. You may or may not have moved the hamper closer to the spot that Luke usually sat at while he waited for you to get ready.

When Luke actually made it over you were still in the bathroom so he sat down in his usual seat. Luke continued his conversation with you through the door. His eyes caught on the hamper, more specifically the clothing on the rim. A very small voice in the back of his head said take them. Luke wanted to say he was better than that as a person. However, then he'd be a liar as well as a thief. When you left the bathroom you smiled at the now missing underwear. You didn't tell Luke you knew.

Until a few days later when you realized you rather liked that pair. How would you bring that up to Luke. He'd be so embarrassed you know about his feelings towards you, and the underwear thing too. But alas that was one of your favorite pairs so you bring it up when you're left alone with him.

Luke's laying on his back. You hoped he wouldn't run away with leaves and sticks still stuck to his shirt. You were sat next to Luke, leaning back on your palms as you both sunbathe.

"Oh hey you know that underwear you took?" You ask before looking over at the tree off to the side. You heard Luke quickly sitting up. He started talking but his voice cracked immediately. He cleared his throat and started again.

"um sorry what?" You know Luke's under the impression you had no idea. All things considered you were the mastermind behind it all. You certainly hoped he still had them and hadn't thrown them in a wood chipper while you weren't looking. You weren't going to entertain his I have no idea what you're talking about shtick.

"yeah well I want it back because those are one of my favorites but I'll give you a different pair. Tradesies." You keep your attitude nonchalant so you don't freak him out. Or freak him out less. His open and closes his mouth trying to find his words. When Luke finally finds it all he can force out is a tiny sorry that makes him sound like a kicked puppy.

"Luke, it's fine. I don't mind at all. In all honesty I left them there on purpose." This seems to confuse him even more and all of a sudden he's opening and closing his mouth again. You roll your eyes and move back to watching the trees sway in the wind. You felt him pulling your hand away from the ground. You shifted your weight to your other hand and watched him brush the pebbles off your palm. Luke reached into his pocket and pushed the folded material into your hand. He kept it covered with in case of onlookers but no one was around.

You wrapped your next pair in wrapping paper with a pretty bow on the top and a small note. Scribbled on it was a simple enjoy, love. and your signature at the bottom. You left your early birthday present on his bed just before curfew. The next morning Luke seemed quite cheery and you noticed his hand had a tendency to move back to his pocket. You shared a knowing look as he continued his conversation.

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #percy jackson #stg im not only going to talk about underwear #ekko look over there #sorry guys #😞#save me a seat in hell

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