#Collapsible Ladder
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corvidsindia Ā· 9 months ago
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Find Quality Telescopic Ladders Online: Best Prices Guaranteed!
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ladderstoreco12 Ā· 1 year ago
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Telescopic Ladder is an important contraption for DIYers, but they can other than have a few standard needs.
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crimescrimson Ā· 6 months ago
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Leon S. Kennedy in Resident Evil 2 (2019)
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crimeronan Ā· 2 years ago
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i went swimming yesterday for the first time in years & afterward found myself weirdly antsy about getting back in the water n like. weirdly stressed about the pool closing for the holiday weekend. so i went again this morning and about halfway through my workout realized: i don't......... feel my joint pain. in the water.
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set-phasers-to-whump Ā· 1 year ago
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Day 27: Unstable (Mentally? Physically? Both?)
whumpee: eddie diaz
fandom: 911
hi! this fic is for @rogue205 - sorry it took me literal months but i hope it's ok!!! you can read it as pre ship or not depending on pref!
Theyā€™re almost to the door of the bedroom when the fire reaches them. Eddie turns, covering the woman heā€™s rescuing - Maria - with his body as the fire flares just outside the door. He slams it, hurries her to the window.Ā 
ā€œWe need a ladder up here, now! Fifth floor, south side!ā€
ā€œCopy, ladder in position. Coming up to you now.ā€
He opens the window, looking down at the ladder that is slowly extending up towards them. He and Maria lean their heads out and breathe in the relatively clean outside air, him standing behind her, shielding her from the steadily-increasing heat behind them. He prays that the door will hold, just for a few more seconds.Ā 
The ladder reaches them after what feels like an eternity. Eddie grabs the top of it and positions it below the sill.Ā 
ā€œThis is Diaz, weā€™re cominā€™ down,ā€ he says over the radio, then turns to his charge.
ā€œIā€™ll go first, so I can help you if you need it,ā€ he explains. ā€œJust follow me, okay?ā€
ā€œOkay,ā€ Maria agrees. She sounds afraid, but certain. Sheā€™ll follow.Ā 
They climb out of the window and onto the ladder just as the fire starts burning through the door. Once theyā€™re on the ladder, they move quickly, Eddie with practiced ease, Maria with adrenaline and nerves.Ā 
Itā€™s all business as usual, until, suddenly, the ladder shifts beneath Eddieā€™s feet. Thereā€™s a screeching noise, metal on metal, and the whole thing jolts.Ā 
Eddie stops moving. A few rungs above him, with a shriek, so does Maria. Bobbyā€™s voice comes through his radio, crackly and calm, but with an edge of worry.Ā 
ā€œGet down from there now, Diaz. Slowly and carefully.ā€
The adrenaline coursing through his veins tells him that this is a terrible idea, that he needs to get off this damn ladder right this second, but he knows better.Ā 
Slow and steady.Ā 
He calls out to Maria: ā€œItā€™s okay, nice and slow.ā€
ā€œWhy is it moving like this?ā€ she shouts back. Sheā€™s clearly terrified. Eddie doesnā€™t blame her. This is freaking him out too.Ā 
ā€œI donā€™t know!ā€ he responds, honestly. ā€œLet's just focus on getting to the ground.ā€
She falls silent, and they keep climbing. The ladder makes ominous noises beneath them, and it wonā€™t stop moving. He has never before paid so much attention to the way heā€™s moving his feet. This ladder has never been anything less than stable and steady.Ā 
Theyā€™re nearing the bottom when several things happen at once.Ā 
The ceiling of the bedroom theyā€™ve just vacated falls in, and a tongue of flame lashes out of the open window. Thereā€™s a loud clunk and the ladder screeches again, longer and shriller, and suddenly theyā€™re falling.Ā 
The top of the ladder is crumpling towards the ground and Eddie thinks that he has never heard anything this loud in his life, and then his feet are falling out from under him and he only has time to shout, ā€œhold on!ā€ before the whole thing hits the ground.Ā 
He blacks out for a second on impact, and when he comes back to consciousness his ears are ringing and he can barely breathe and his head hurts and his right wrist feels like itā€™s on fire.Ā 
He groans in pain, blinking his eyes open and lifting his aching head as much as he can, which is not very much. His helmet feels like it weighs a ton, but he needs to see - needs to see if Maria is alright.
ā€œEddie!ā€
ā€œDonā€™t move, Eddie, okay? Just lie back down, weā€™ve got you.ā€
Buck and Chim.Ā 
ā€œMaria?ā€ he asks, his voice strained and so quiet even he can barely hear it.
ā€œHenā€™s got her,ā€ Chim says. ā€œSheā€™s conscious.ā€
Thatā€™s all he needs to know. He lets his head rest against the wrecked ladder beneath him and tries to ignore the blinding pain in his trapped wrist, the way his chest aches and burns, and the sickening pounding in his head.Ā 
His team is here. Heā€™ll be okay.Ā 
He hears Buck and Chim speaking above him, but doesnā€™t process what theyā€™re saying. He lies still as someone removes his helmet and lifts his head to slide a c-collar around his neck.Ā 
ā€œ- gonna use the saw, okay?ā€ He only catches the tail end of Buckā€™s statement, but itā€™s enough that he isnā€™t surprised when a thick, heavy blanket is draped across his upper body.Ā 
The saw hums to life, cutting into the metal of the rung currently pinning his wrist, and the pain somehow gets worse. He thinks he screams, but over the noise of the saw itā€™s impossible to tell.Ā 
Heā€™s lifted, slightly. The blanket moves. The saw returns, close to his chest this time. And then the horrible pressure on his wrist is gone, though the pain is still hot and intense.Ā 
ā€œWeā€™re gonna roll you over, okay?ā€ Buck asks. ā€œOn three.ā€
Thereā€™s a flash of pain, heā€™s moved so quickly that it makes him dizzy, and then heā€™s flat on his back staring up at Buck and Chimā€™s blurry faces above him.Ā 
Heā€™s too dizzy to think, let alone speak, and every single inch of his body hurts. He dimly registers that heā€™s moving, feels the thump as his backboard is set into the ambulance, and then he feels the prick of a needle in the skin of his arm and the pain begins to ebb away.Ā 
--
He drifts in and out of consciousness in the ambulance. His mouth feels like itā€™s full of cotton and his body feels like itā€™s not quite attached to his mind. Except for his wrist, which still throbs insistently despite the morphine. He knows Buck and Chim are trying to talk to him but he doesnā€™t know what theyā€™re saying and certainly doesnā€™t have the ability to answer.Ā 
--
He comes to completely for the first time in a hospital bed. His chest aches and protests the deep breath he attempts to take. Broken ribs, he thinks. Great.Ā 
His head hurts, too. Everything feels a little bit foggy, and even the small amount of light filtering through the curtain makes the pain worse. So heā€™s concussed, too.Ā 
And then thereā€™s his wrist. Lying at his side, encased in plaster and still hurting, the pain sharper than just an ache. Two of his fingers are splinted, and the others are bruised and scraped.Ā 
This is the worst part of it all. Broken ribs heal on their own. Concussions get better with rest. But if the bones in his hand heal wrong, if physical therapy isnā€™t enoughā€¦if he canā€™t use his hands, where does that leave him?
He can feel himself starting to panic. His chest gets tighter, the ache there growing more insistent. He tries to force himself to stop, to think rationally and positively, but heā€™s afraid. And he hurts, though he knows thereā€™s still morphine coursing through his system.Ā 
The curtain around his bed shifts. More light spills in, and he closes his eyes against the spike of pain in his head.Ā 
ā€œHey.ā€ Buckā€™s voice is soft, worried. His hand touches Eddieā€™s shoulder so lightly that Eddie can barely even feel it.Ā 
He opens his eyes. The brightness is gone, and Buck is there. His hair is messy and the skin beneath his eyes is dark. But when Eddie looks at him, he smiles, still worried, and the panic bubbling under Eddieā€™s skin begins to fade.Ā 
ā€œWhatā€™s wrong?ā€
Eddie doesnā€™t know how to answer this question. Everything and nothing. He lifts his shoulder in a lopsided shrug and blinks away the tears that have risen in his eyes.Ā 
ā€œWhat can I do to help?ā€
He knows the answer to this one, at least.Ā 
ā€œStay?ā€
ā€œAlways.ā€
thanks for reading! hope you liked it <3
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asexualbert Ā· 1 year ago
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You will be old someday. Perhaps sooner than that, you may be hurt. Or sick. Or even just wearing really bad shoes. Or maybe you'll just decide one day that you care about the people who ARE
walkable cities also means sittable cities send tweet
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love-frozen-universe Ā· 9 months ago
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Read by {THROW BACK VIDEO} ~ FDNY Ladder 25 and Battalion 11 Responding Using Major Airhorn & Siren.
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Taken on Friday. February 6, 2015. @johnminiaci7024 ā€‹ā @rescue911.eu-worldwideemer3 ā€‹ā @THEMAJESTIRIUM1 ā€‹ā @SkylerFire ā€‹ā @fdny6950 ā€‹ā @nycemergencymanagement HERE YOU WILL SEE A GRAND QUINTESSENTIAL VIDEO OF FDNY LADDER 1 SEA-GRAVE MARAUDER AND BATTALION CHIEF 11 USING EXTREME HEAVY AIR HORN AND SIREN WHILE RESPONDING FROM HEADQUARTERS WHILE AGAINST TRAFFIC ON DUANE STREET IN THE TRIBECA AREA OF LOWER MANHATTAN IN NEW YORK CITY. {READ DESCRIPTION} ~ {THROW BACK} ~ FDNY ENGINE 7 & TOWER LADDER 1 BOTH SEAG-GRAVE MARAUDER AND BATTALION 1 MEMBERS HAD TO DIRECT TRAFFIC IN ORDER TO RESPOND.
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lovelyghst Ā· 2 months ago
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just imagine ghost getting his Jacob's ladder piercing while he's dating you and after it's healed yall have sex for the first time and it's just like sensory overload
i know absolutely nothing about piercings, but this idea is simply too good to pass up. my brain is melting.
hmmm, thinking about ghost who, despite not being able to properly get off himself, is still so attentive to his sweet girl throughout the whole healing process; offering you his mouth and fingers whenever he notices your focus beginning to drift off and shift elsewhere, having you rub yourself up on his jean-clad thigh when you canā€™t seem to shake the burst of energy.
because while you never outright asked him for anything of the kind, he just knew.
and even if you were the one so insistent on following the piercerā€™s adviceā€”taking each and every precaution possible in avoiding the risks that simon shrugged off as ā€˜not gonna happen.ā€™ā€”you still felt bad. though, he couldnā€™t resist your stern pouting for long, turning weak the moment you cocked your head and promised him a sweet treat when heā€™s all healed up.
so, of course, ā€˜whatever you say, doll.ā€™
anything to put your pretty mind at ease. he is a soldier, after all. he can wait, even if it kills him. it got pretty damn close to it, too.
which is what makes the first time back so fucking good. that reunion, and the return of that glimmering look you get in your eyes every other time he presses his pink lips to your collar and gently hikes you up the mattress after a long time away.
and truthfully, he was done in the moment you tapped him on his shoulder and told him to guess what day it was.
ā€œshit, babyā€”ā€ he grits out with a heavy breath, eyes trained on your own as he watches you reverently lick up the underside of his cock. your fingers tighten around the base when his abs pull taut, tongue gliding over the cool metal.
taking your time in feeling each and every barbell leading to the tip, making him twitch in your hand at the hot and wet drag over his sensitive skin. a heavy breath seeps from his lungs, his jaw clenching as he fights to hold off. jesus, youā€™re too good to him.
a sweet fucking treat, indeed.
you giggle before taking the head of him between your swollen, spit-stained lips, reveling in the quick hiss he sucks in through his teeth as you whine at the familiar taste of his pre leaking onto your tongue. your other hand slips up his thigh while you squeeze your own together, your freshly done-up nails leaving little, pink crescent shapes in his thick skin.
ā€œfuckā€” not gonna last ā€˜f you keep that up,ā€ he warns, a struggle in and of itself, and itā€™s an utter miracle he doesnā€™t collapse to the floor when you only hollow your cheeks and suck in response. he hardly manages to stifle an embarrassingly whorish moan at that.
god, you look so pretty down there, on your knees for him. so fucking debauched, and so, so perfect.
the way your thumb toys with the piercings as you have your own fun, and how you preen in his hold like a sweet cat when he slips a hand to the back of your neck. heā€™s going to miss it when he forces himself to pull you away, frowning at the pout you give him as heā€™s lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to your bed.
ā€œā€™m sorry, sweetheartā€¦ just too fuckinā€™ pretty for yer old man anymoreā€” didnā€™t want it tā€™go to waste.ā€
he kisses your temple, mumbling his apologies in your hair. you hardly even register your bare back making contact with your sheets, so wrapped up in his hold, before heā€™s kissing his way down your neck.
ā€œwanna fill yer pretty cunt,ā€ he murmurs, and itā€™s nearly incoherent as his lips press against your racing pulse point. ā€œmake ā€˜er cum ā€˜round my cockā€¦ know yā€™missed it too, sweet girl. a proper fuckā€¦ā€
heā€™s talking more to himself than anything, and a small gasp from you follows soon after when his arm is snaked between your bodies and his fingertips make contact with your swollen, little clit. wonā€™t even stretch you out with his fingers; heā€™s had his fill of that over the course of the last month. let him feel how much you missed his cock.
ā€œpoor thingā€™s soaked fā€™me, baby.ā€ he groans as he adjusts on his forearm and regains his bearings, dick twitching against your thigh with every noise squeaked out from your throat. ā€œcuntā€™s gonna take me just right, lovieā€¦ so fuckinā€™ wellā€¦ā€
he rambles a lot when heā€™s needy, youā€™ve come to learn.
you whine when his hand leaves you to take his cock in a fist, your nails digging into his chest and shoulder when he presses the head to your messy pussy. just the tip in and youā€™re already seeing stars, the shared moan between the two of you raw and pornographic.
heā€™s gritting out his swears before you try to shush his dirty mouth with a kiss, and he accepts it greedily, almost too eagerly.
your body reacts to his, simultaneously craving more and trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation all at once. your brain is fuzzy by the time heā€™s nearly bottoming out inside you, ears deaf to the unabashed sounds spilling from your lips as the feeling of his fresh piercings dragging against your every sweet spot burns itself into your memory.
and before you can catch your breath, a thumb is being pressed up against your sensitive bud once again, your legs constricting around him involuntarily as you jolt with a cry. heat prickles at your skin, his teeth at your jaw making your spine tingle.
heā€™s telling you to cum, begging you to make a mess of his cock.
his hand picks up its pace, hips grinding against yours sloppier than ever as he pleads right up against your temple for you to use him, just finish him off, fucking cum for him.
you squeeze around his cock like a vice and pull him straight under with you, arms locked tight around his neck as your pretty cunt utterly wrecks him. making him throb and twitch, fucking himself dumb through his high and wringing him dry of everything heā€™s kept pent up for you. at least for now, anyway.
his and your panting rings out in the room as he sits back on his knees, his cock still hard as he gently pulls out of you. watching his pearly cum bead from your slit, your chest gradually slowing down within the time he takes to drool over the sight of you.
itā€™s not long before simon has you laying on your tummy with your head in the soft sheets, a pillow slipped underneath your hips to prop you up. not making you do an ounce of work as he uses your warm, pliant cunt as his sweet cum dump for hours on end.
fucking you gently, lovingly, all while trying his best to keep his weight off your back. he kisses behind your ear, cooing praises and choked grunts that make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you can only giggle into the pillow nestled in your arms as he makes up for all the lost time.
filling you with load after load, the number becoming lost on your fuzzy mind after a certain amount, until your belly is achingly full and his cock is numb from overstimulation. only to coax you onto your back, easing your limp legs apart to watch his cum leak from your pretty hole. pressing a flat palm to your lower tummy, sighing in time with your strangled noises as your sensitive pussy drips more of his spend. leaning forward and licking it all up like some starved mutt; groaning at the taste, arms tightening around your hips as he eats his mess out of his pretty girl.
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yuutryingtowrite Ā· 5 months ago
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Yandere!Salaryman who is exhausted from this dull and pathetic job. He has been trying to climb the ladders for years, but it just keeps getting worse and worse andā€¦
Yandere!Salaryman who has a burning hatred for the newbie aka you. ā€œOh! Congrats on the new promotion! I never have gotten one even though I have been rotting here for as long as I can remember, while you just came in last monthā€, he wants to tell you. Instead, he just offers you a strained smile and a small nod when you greet him in the morning.
Yandere!Salaryman who, one day, has to stay overtime with the newbie. As he diligently works on the numbers on his computer screen, he ignores your attempts at small talk, giving curt answers at best.
Yandere!Salaryman who finally snaps as you wonā€™t leave him alone. He screams and shouts, emptying his heart out. Suddenly, he collapses on the floor and starts sobbing. He cries and cries for his pitiful self and miserable life, until it dies down to small sniffles. His face ends up being all red and puffy, his eyes all glossy and his lips settled into a pout. You can't help but find him cute.
Yandere!Salaryman who looks confused when you give him your handkerchief to dry his tears. He stays eerily quiet as you try to cheer him up, telling him that he shouldnā€™t ruin his pretty face like that. After offering your hand to help him stand up, you end this interaction with a small, empathetic pat on the shoulder and a ā€œIf you need anything, I got youā€.
Yandere!Salaryman who, later that night, goes straight to bed. He can feel his face burn from embarrassment and maybe something else. Your words keep going on loop inside his head. Clutching the handkerchief close to his chest, a small whimper escapes him as he takes a whiff of it. You smell so goodā€¦He closes his eyes as he tries to recall your touch. Your hand was soft tooā€¦This is all making him dizzy.
Oh god, what did you do to him? And how was he going to face you at work tomorrow?
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kamaluhkhan Ā· 11 months ago
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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)
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pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)
word count: 8.5k
summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.
warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!
author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ā™”
ā™Ŗ: the grudge by olivia rodrigo
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(i. you have a sharp tongue)
fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.
"you'll get used to it."
luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.Ā 
you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.Ā 
ā€œthe shitty mattress?ā€
ā€œi meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.ā€Ā 
your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous.Ā 
ā€œgood to know.ā€ he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasnā€™t in it. ā€œiā€™m luke, by the way.ā€
ā€œyeah, i know. iā€™m ā€”ā€
ā€œy/n!ā€
you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.
ā€œsomeone stole my candy.ā€
ā€œiā€™m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.ā€ your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.
maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. ā€œit was you, wasnā€™t it?ā€
ā€œthat depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?ā€Ā 
some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in.Ā 
ā€œwhat? n-no!ā€Ā 
ā€œthen you have your answer, maddy.ā€ you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. ā€œnow, if youā€™ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.ā€
chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didnā€™t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you.Ā 
ā€œcome on.ā€ you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasnā€™t following you. ā€œbest view of camp. trust me.ā€
a shiver passed through luke. trust didnā€™t come easy to him. he also didnā€™t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.
Ā so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp.Ā 
it just didn't seem fair.Ā 
there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods.Ā 
ā€œi donā€™t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but arenā€™t there, like, a million other gods?ā€
you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest.Ā 
ā€œcamp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, theyā€™re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they canā€™t even do that half the time,ā€ you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest.Ā 
everyĀ  demigod knew that the gods didnā€™t appreciate sarcasm. theyĀ  didnā€™t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.
you didnā€™t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself.Ā 
ā€œanyways, thatā€™s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesnā€™t have a cabin at camp. like me.ā€
ā€œso, whoā€™s your godly parent?ā€
you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore ā€” scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.
luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.
"nemesis. goddess of revenge."
"that's....hardcore."
you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.ā€
ā€œso thatā€™s why youā€™re extra nice to new campers, huh?ā€Ā 
ā€œno, i was just in a good mood today.ā€ you smirked.
ā€œguess i was just lucky, then.ā€
luke couldnā€™t help but smile at your laugh ā€” sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching.Ā 
ā€œwhat people donā€™t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things andā€¦.ā€ you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. ā€œyou face the consequences.ā€Ā 
ā€œthat makes sense.ā€ luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. ā€œlike karma.ā€
ā€œyeah. exactly.ā€Ā 
you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:
ā€œby the way, iā€™m sorry about your friend.ā€ you swallowed and caught lukeā€™s gaze.Ā 
chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything ā€” anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too.Ā 
ā€œshe deserved more.ā€Ā 
lukeā€™s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there.Ā 
ā€œyeah,ā€ he finally whispered back. ā€œshe did.ā€
we all do.Ā 
neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise.Ā 
(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)
ā€œslow down, tiger.ā€Ā 
your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm.Ā 
ā€œleft hand,ā€ you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. ā€œyou, my friend, are in need of a break.ā€
luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.Ā Ā 
his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news heā€™d gotten early that day.Ā 
ā€œcome sit with me,ā€ you urged. ā€œyouā€™re exhausted, tiger.ā€Ā 
luke bristled at your nickname for him.Ā 
sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.
everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldnā€™t let it go.Ā 
case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.Ā Ā 
as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink ā€” his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in.Ā 
ā€œthanks,ā€ luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly.Ā 
Ā the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again.Ā 
ā€œi guess chiron and your dad decided you werenā€™t ready for a quest.ā€
luke exhaled sharply. ā€œhow did you ā€”ā€
ā€œthe only time youā€™d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.ā€ you looked down at lukeā€™s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. ā€œyou promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."
fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasnā€™t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right ā€” he had let her down.Ā 
the realization made lukeā€™s day go from bad to worse.Ā 
"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.ā€
ā€œwell, thank the gods everything worked in the end,ā€ luke grumbled.Ā 
ā€œdonā€™t thank the gods,ā€ you quipped. ā€œthank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.ā€
when luke didnā€™t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.
ā€œlook, iā€™m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods donā€™t get to define what a hero is, or how you donā€™t need a quest to prove that youā€™re worthy of being one. weā€™ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this wonā€™t be our last time, either.ā€
ā€œthen why are you here?ā€ the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.
ā€œbecause sheā€™s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didnā€™t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan sā€™mores. you could probably use one, too, since you havenā€™t eaten anything since breakfast.ā€Ā 
you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.Ā Ā 
later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many sā€™mores as she wanted. youā€™d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabinā€™s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning.Ā 
when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each otherā€™s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone?Ā 
luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabethā€™s warnings. she handed him another one.Ā 
"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward."Ā 
whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabethā€™s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldnā€™t quite get rid of the thought of you.Ā 
(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)
ā€œi justā€¦.i canā€™t fucking believe you, luke.ā€
ā€œi donā€™t get why youā€™re so upset ā€” youā€™ve never cared about quests before.ā€
luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp.Ā 
annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadnā€™t found anything so far, which meant that youā€™d spent the better part of an hour bickering over lukeā€™s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.Ā Ā 
before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready.Ā 
a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him.Ā 
luke parried his opponentā€™s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through.Ā 
he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him.Ā 
his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponentā€™s neck.
you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood ā€” it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.
luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.
ā€œyour nose.ā€
luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power.Ā 
you, on the other hand, didnā€™t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood.Ā 
ā€œyou donā€™t have to ā€”ā€
ā€œi know you think youā€™re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldnā€™t deny your admirers your pretty face,ā€ you teased.Ā 
it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess.Ā 
it was pathetic how much power you had over him.
ā€œbesides, i wouldnā€™t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadnā€™t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. itā€™s what we do. we take care of each other, right?ā€
he couldnā€™t argue with that.
a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson.Ā 
ā€œjust tell me honestly,ā€ you finally murmured. ā€œwhy don't you want me to join your quest?ā€Ā 
luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldnā€™t meet lukeā€™s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.
he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadnā€™t expected you to be so hurt. so broken.Ā 
he hadnā€™t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.
ā€œlook, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldnā€™t fully be in the quest. iā€™d be so caught up inā€¦.well, you.ā€
a pause.
ā€œis that a bad thing?ā€
ā€œnot usually, no.ā€Ā 
you smirked a little at that, and lukeā€™s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer.Ā 
ā€œbut i need to be focused for this. i needā€¦.ā€ he let out a deep sigh. ā€œi need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i canā€™t fuck it up.ā€
you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.Ā Ā 
ā€œyou wonā€™t.ā€
you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadnā€™t noticed how close youā€™d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.
ā€œiā€™ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but ā€”ā€
luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too.Ā 
he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time.Ā 
it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on lukeā€™s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more.Ā 
he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips.Ā 
luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die.Ā 
it wouldnā€™t be a heroā€™s death, in the traditional sense, but at least heā€™d die happy.Ā 
how many heroes could claim that?
when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away.Ā 
you glanced down at lukeā€™s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze.Ā 
ā€œjust promise me something, tiger,ā€ you whispered, voice hoarse.Ā 
ā€œanything.ā€
ā€œcome back alive.ā€
luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.
ā€œi promise.ā€
(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)
the nightmares were getting worse.Ā 
luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.
ā€œluke.ā€Ā 
your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality.Ā 
he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what ā€” who ā€” was going through his head, he would).
ā€œiā€™mā€¦iā€™m fine,ā€ he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie.Ā 
like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didnā€™t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat.Ā 
your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him.Ā 
luke tried to pretend that he didnā€™t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and fatherā€™s praise he once wished for.Ā 
what a fucking joke.
every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did.Ā 
again: a fucking joke.
nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.
every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it.Ā 
of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair.Ā 
most of all, you cared about luke.
ā€œyou were screaming,ā€ you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates.Ā 
ā€œsorry,ā€ he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes.Ā 
ā€œitā€™s fine. you justā€¦.you scared me, tiger.ā€Ā 
your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didnā€™t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes.Ā 
for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldnā€™t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.
since coming back from his quest, luke didnā€™t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didnā€™t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.
luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreamsā€¦. luke could change that.Ā 
but, at what cost?
(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)
luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldnā€™t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.
you entered the bathroom and instantly caught lukeā€™s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you.Ā 
ā€œwhat was that about?ā€ luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.
ā€œoh, nothing.ā€ you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. ā€œhey, do you have any extra dental floss?ā€
luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.
ā€œwhat happened?ā€Ā 
you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush.Ā 
ā€œitā€™s not a big deal,ā€ you assured. ā€œsome ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, soā€¦.ā€Ā 
ā€œ....you decided to send them to the infirmary.ā€
you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. ā€œi donā€™t need you to lecture me about how i shouldnā€™t be fighting with other campers because iā€™ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment theyā€™ll get is no dessert for a week.ā€
luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didnā€™t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right.Ā 
in fact, luke loved that about you.
no, it wasnā€™t the fighting that luke cared about ā€” it was who you were fighting for.Ā 
percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didnā€™t want you getting attached.Ā 
ā€œi wasnā€™t going to lecture you. iā€™m guessing chiron already did?ā€Ā 
you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.
ā€œi just didnā€™t realize you cared so much about him.ā€
ā€œabout percy?ā€Ā 
luke could tell that he didnā€™t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing lukeā€™s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
ā€œyeah. the kidā€™s only been at camp for three days, and youā€™re already acting like his guard dog.ā€
you finally turned to luke and glared at him.Ā 
ā€œmaybe. but percyā€™s sweet and he doesnā€™t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. heā€™s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as iā€™m concerned, percyā€™s one of us, and iā€™m not going to let anyone push him around.ā€
luke raised an eyebrow at you. ā€œheā€™s sweet?ā€
ā€œyeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.ā€Ā 
you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percyā€™s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said.Ā 
satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow.Ā 
the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air.Ā 
ā€œi wouldnā€™t say he beat me,ā€ luke huffed. ā€œit was beginnerā€™s luck.ā€
ā€œsure, tiger. it was beginnerā€™s luck that disarmed the best swordsman weā€™ve had in the last 300 years.ā€
you nudged lukeā€™s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch.Ā 
ā€œare you trying to make me feel worse?ā€ luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.
ā€œiā€™m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesnā€™t make you any less talented. thereā€™s no need to get jealous.ā€
luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.Ā 
to be clear, he was not jealous. itā€™s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp.Ā 
and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him.Ā 
by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment.Ā 
you tugged on lukeā€™s sleeve before he could open the door.Ā 
ā€œhey. are we okay?ā€
luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.
he smiled at the memory ā€” a real smile, no plastic ā€” and then smiled back up at you.
ā€œweā€™re fine, karma.ā€ and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.
ā€œwait.ā€ you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. ā€œthereā€™s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow nightā€”ā€
ā€œannabeth called a meeting during free time.ā€
ā€œyeah, i know, itā€™s just ā€”ā€
ā€œsheā€™ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.ā€
ā€œone of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,ā€ you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.
what in the name of hades were you talking about?
ā€œthey asked you out? likeā€¦like aā€¦.ā€ luke didnā€™t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.
ā€œa date,ā€ you said casually, as if that one word didnā€™t rip lukeā€™s heart in a million pieces. ā€œi said yes.ā€ an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire.Ā 
sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, youā€™d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.
ā€œbut, listen, i wanted to let you know itā€™s not ā€”ā€
ā€œgood for you,ā€ was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.Ā Ā 
(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)
your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god.Ā 
he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy.Ā 
everything was falling into place.Ā 
all luke should be thinking about is kronosā€™ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.Ā Ā 
unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you.Ā 
you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphroditeā€” jordan li.
you hadnā€™t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that nightā€™s campfire, you didnā€™t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.
luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles.Ā 
and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan liā€™s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist.Ā 
meanwhile, luke had katie gardnerā€™s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into lukeā€™s personal space, definitely flirting with him.Ā 
luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey.Ā 
the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordanā€™s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy.Ā 
katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.
a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.
ā€œrough night, tiger?ā€ your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you donā€™t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with lukeā€™s and took a sip.
ā€œlooks like you were having a pretty good time,ā€ luke practically sneered. ā€œwhereā€™s your date?ā€Ā 
Ā ā€œthey went to bed.ā€ you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. ā€œgods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time ā€” we have better taste.ā€
ā€œso, are you and jordan like a thing now?ā€
you gave luke a smile he didnā€™t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. ā€œwould that be a problem?ā€
ā€œof course not.ā€ he answered way too quickly for that to be true.Ā 
ā€œletā€™s get out of here,ā€ you suggested. ā€œi think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.ā€
luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him.Ā 
nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasnā€™t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it.Ā 
ā€œno. iā€™m good.ā€
biggest lie he ever said. like there wasnā€™t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.
ā€œgo find jordan,ā€ he taunted. ā€œkiss them, show them a good time! isnā€™t that the reason why you got all pretty?ā€
you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.
ā€œlook, we havenā€™t really talked lately, and i think we should.ā€
ā€œgo find jordan,ā€ he mocked once more. ā€œalmost all the aphrodite kids are here, and iā€™m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fuā€”ā€
ā€œluke.ā€ you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. ā€œif you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, youā€™re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i donā€™t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.ā€
you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down.Ā 
in ways you didnā€™t realize, you were right: he couldnā€™t risk revealing it, not now.
not yet.Ā 
ā€œdo whatever you want, castellan,ā€ you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.ā€œiā€™m leaving.ā€
luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog.Ā 
luke didnā€™t know if heā€™d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more.Ā 
ā€œiā€™m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,ā€ he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.
ā€œgods, enough about jordan!ā€ luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. ā€œi was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!ā€
ā€œyouā€¦.ā€ luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. ā€œwhat?ā€
luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.
ā€œwhyā€¦why would you agree to do that?ā€
you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously.Ā 
ā€œjordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.ā€
ā€œyou seemed soā€¦so into it, though,ā€ luke stammered, the memory of you in jordanā€™s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.
ā€œitā€™s called acting, dumbass.ā€ the camp didnā€™t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. ā€œanyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldnā€™t listen.ā€ you took a deep breath. ā€œand, honestly, i didnā€™t push it becauseā€¦.i figured i should test a hypothesis.ā€
a hypothesis? youā€™d known annabeth for too long.
ā€œwhat hypothesis?ā€
you hesitated.Ā 
ā€œit doesnā€™t matter. fuck, this was stupid,ā€ you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and lukeā€™s not far behind.Ā 
ā€œwhat hypothesis?ā€ he asked again.
nothing but rushed footsteps.
ā€œwhat hypothesis?ā€ luke finally yelled.
third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.
ā€œiā€™m angry at the gods,ā€ you stated.Ā 
this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. youā€™d gotten quieter with your rage as youā€™d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well.Ā 
ā€œiā€™m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. iā€™m angry at your dad for the way heā€™s treated you, but ā€” you, luke castellan.ā€ you finally met lukeā€™s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. ā€œiā€™m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.ā€Ā 
your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.
did you know?
ā€œyou havenā€™t been the same since your quest,ā€ you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. ā€œand iā€™ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but youā€¦.youā€™ve never tried to ice me out before. youā€™ve been acting distant since december, and itā€™s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best ā€¦..ā€ you swallowed the word friend. ā€œhow much i miss you?ā€
luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know iā€™ve been distant, but iā€™ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe!Ā 
would you hate him, if you knew?Ā 
you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, heā€™d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage.Ā 
"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and thenā€¦.ā€ you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasnā€™t sure.
a smirk spread across lukeā€™s face at the revelation that he hadnā€™t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything heā€™s done.
ā€œwhy do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?ā€Ā 
as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns.Ā 
ā€œwhy do you care if iā€™m with jordan fucking li?ā€ you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldnā€™t be you who yielded this fight.
ā€œbecause i want to be the one youā€™re with.ā€ at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. ā€œwhy do you care if i make out with katie gardner?ā€
ā€œbecause.ā€ you drew in a sharp breath when lukeā€™s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. ā€œdonā€™t make me say it, tiger.ā€Ā 
the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didnā€™t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you werenā€™t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment.Ā 
luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.
in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips.Ā 
so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.
no, you certainly werenā€™t a saint ā€” but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.
the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe.Ā 
maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.
and yet ā€” maybe wasnā€™t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldnā€™t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his.Ā 
ā€œwait.ā€
it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath.Ā 
ā€œi promised jordan that weā€™d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep thisā€¦ā€ you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. ā€œa secret until then?ā€
luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.
(vii. you wouldnā€™t hesitate to make him bleed)
luke had just left percy jackson to die.
he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time.Ā 
the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.
ā€œhey, tiger.ā€ you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. ā€œwanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.ā€
for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted.Ā 
ā€œi donā€™t have much time.ā€
you seemed to notice lukeā€™s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor.Ā 
luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.
percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyoneā€™s big brother.Ā 
you, on the other hand, didnā€™t express any sense of shock.Ā 
ā€œluke.ā€ you said his name like you werenā€™t quite sure it was poison. ā€œiā€™m going to give you five seconds to tell me that youā€™re joking.ā€
five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.
ā€œiā€¦.i should have told you sooner.ā€
ā€œyeah,ā€ you scoffed. ā€œyou should have. but, you didnā€™t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? itā€™s fucking delusional.ā€Ā 
ā€œitā€™s not delusionalā€”ā€
ā€œyes, it is!ā€ you glared at him. ā€œyouā€™re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.ā€
luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being.Ā 
ā€œisnā€™t this what youā€™re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. donā€™t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?ā€
ā€œnot like this. i canā€™t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. itā€™s pathetic,ā€ you spat. ā€œiā€™m not saying the gods donā€™t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and gloryā€¦.itā€™s sick and twisted, but i donā€™t think your titan king is any better. i donā€™t think you are any better.ā€Ā 
ā€œitā€™s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isnā€™t perfect,ā€ luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.Ā Ā 
luke just needed to convince you.
ā€œweā€™ve talked about this for years,ā€ he continued. ā€œnothing is balanced! thereā€™s no justice here, for anyone.Ā  we can build a better world where we donā€™t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i loveā€”ā€
ā€œdonā€™t,ā€ you snapped. ā€œdonā€™t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.ā€ your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. ā€œthat dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.ā€
something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.
ā€œyou donā€™t mean that.ā€
ā€œi do,ā€ you promised. ā€œat least you would have died with all of us thinking youā€™re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.ā€
you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.Ā 
ā€œiā€™m not going to fight you,ā€ was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor.Ā 
in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldnā€™t think twice about sending to tartarus.
luke didnā€™t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape.Ā 
ā€œplease come with me,ā€ he pleaded. you didnā€™t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice.Ā 
a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.
you didnā€™t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.
a turquoise trident.
ā€œpercy told me he was on his way to see you,ā€ you realized. ā€œwhat did you do?ā€
luke didnā€™t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head.Ā 
and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percyā€™s life.Ā 
there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.
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corvidsindia Ā· 1 year ago
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Explore Reliable Telescopic Ladders at Great Prices
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ladderstoreco12 Ā· 1 year ago
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Telescopic ladders are a valuable contraption for DIYers, however, they can also have several standard lacks.
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luulapants Ā· 2 years ago
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Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:
A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would
B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be
C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)
And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"
Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!
Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.
Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.
Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.
Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.
Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?
Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.
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girlactionfigure Ā· 3 months ago
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Remembering Ladder 118 shown here in this iconic picture as it crossed the Brooklyn Bridge ā€” not knowing that it would be the fire truck's last run. They did not die a few minutes later as most posts suggest, instead after crossing the bridge, Ladder 118 pulled into the doomed Marriott World Trade Center hotel. The six firefighters ran up the stairs and helped countless panicked guests escape.
Bobby Graff, a mechanic at the hotel, was quoted saying: ā€œThey knew what was going on, and they went down with their ship. They werenā€™t going to leave until everyone got out. They must have saved a couple hundred people that day. I know they saved my life.ā€
Ultimately, over 900 guests were saved that day. However, when the Twin Towers finally collapsed, the hotel went down with them. So did hundreds of firefighters, including the six members on Ladder 118.
Lt. Robert M. Regan, 48
Joseph Agnello, 35
Vernon Paul Cherry, 49
Scott Matthew Davidson, 33 (SNL comedian Pete Davidsonā€™s father)
Leon Smith, Jr., 48
Peter Anthony Vega, 36
Eddie B PI
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nope-body Ā· 2 years ago
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.
#my parents say that Iā€™ll never be able to get a job in theater that Iā€™ll never be able to do anything with a theater degree all the time#and I know their reasoning is just. itā€™s useless because you canā€™t climb the corporate ladder and itā€™s competitive#(as if other industries/jobs arenā€™t competitive?)#and because my dad ended up wanting to do something other than theater and it took him longer to get to where he is today because he#only had a theater degree and not like. a business degree or something#but the more I run into accessiblility barriers trying to do tech crew the more I start to believe them#Iā€™ll never succeed in theater/I canā€™t make it/no one will hire me/I wonā€™t be able to do my job or hold one down#because I have to work five times as hard as everyone else to do the same work#and the problem is Iā€™m smart enough! I know that I *can* do it!#but the way everything works just means that I have no choice but to keep pace with able bodied people and sometimes I just canā€™t#I plan things out and work as hard as I can and I end up slightly behind schedule and in loads of pain#I overwork myself to the point of exhaustion and neglecting everything else and push myself past every limit and Iā€™m still not quite there#I eat instant oatmeal at 11:30 for breakfast in the theater building because I had physical therapy in the morning and just got there#and work until 4:30 without taking a break and only stop then because I canā€™t do anything else with the material I have#and I feel like Iā€™m about to collapse and Iā€™m behind still and just. I barely have energy to eat dinner#and then I have to take off the tape that got put on my back in pt because the stickiness was irritating my skin and then my back#was burning because thatā€™s what happens when you rip essentially a giant bandaid off irritated skin#and that was yesterday#today I was trying to cut foam board and the knife handle dug into my hand weird and pushed a tendon to the side in a really painful way#multiple times! because my body is so shitty it canā€™t keep the tendons in my hands in the right place#and I fucked up my shoulder again. fourth time in just over a week#and I stood so much and my hips are killing me#and I just. I didnā€™t even make clean cuts! itā€™ll be covered up but still like. all that effort for a shitty outcome#Iā€™m so tired of this#of trying and failing and falling behind and knowing how to do better but not being able to#Iā€™m so tired
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runraerun Ā· 9 days ago
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Steddie Amnesia Fic ā€” 3/3
Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3
wc: 3k | rating: T | cw: head trauma, brain injury talk | a special thank you to @dame-zoom-a-lot for betaing! <3
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The days following Steveā€™s Houdini act are fuckinā€™ tense, to say the least.
Eddie had messed up. Royally.
He couldā€™ve sworn that when Steve took off, heā€™d ducked into the Recovery Center, yā€™know, the place he was supposed to go! If Eddie had known Steve took a detour and missed the building entirely, Eddie wouldā€™ve ran a lot fucking faster than he had. Especially afterā€¦
Well, no point in shying away from it anymore; after Steve confessed his love for him.
And how did Eddie return the favor? By being a total bone head and losing Steve for the entire goddamn day! Not to mention a good chunk of the night. Jesusā€¦ Itā€™s no wonder Robinā€™s still sore.
Now, in Eddieā€™s flimsy defense, Steve had thrown him for one hell of a loop. One that Eddie was still seeing double from. Heā€™s still having trouble wrapping his head around what heā€™d heard; Steve ā€˜the Hairā€™ Harrington, King of Hawkins High, being into Eddie ā€˜the Freakā€™ Munson, the drug-dealing neā€™er do well hailing from the Forest Hills trailer park. Forgive him for finding the threads a little difficult to tie together! Heā€™s not exactly Steveā€™s usual fare.
But it had happened.
Things have fundamentally, metaphysically, allegorically and subatomically shifted between the two of themā€”thereā€™s no getting away from that, no matter how long they try and dance around this.
Steve said he loved Eddie. Love.
That isnā€™t something you just move on from. At least, it isnā€™t something Eddie can move on from. Especially when he didnā€™t even get to say his piece!
The trouble is that Robinā€™s in all-out guard dog mode with Steve, keeping Eddie at arm's length even after a whole goddamn week goes by. Sure, sheā€™d accepted his apology (albeit begrudgingly), but she isnā€™t exactly keen on letting Steve out of the house without her by his sideā€”much less with Eddie. It would be kind of heartwarming if it werenā€™t so goddamn annoying.
Steve isnā€™t some damsel locked away in a tower, and Eddie wasnā€™t some knight in shining armor, planning to scale the side of a stone tower to avoid the sleeping, fire-breathing dragonā€¦
But as Eddie stares up at the fire escape attached to the side of Steve and Robinā€™s brick apartment buildingā€¦ he'd be lying if he said he didnā€™t sort of feel a little shiny.
Part of Eddie canā€™t believe itā€™s really come to this, butā€¦ he just canā€™t stand the idea of wasting another goddamn night tossing and turning, going over and over Steveā€™s words in his mind. Thinking about the way Steveā€™s hand felt in his, the way his eyes went all soft when he told Eddie heā€”he loved himā€¦
Jesus H. Christ, this is way beyond his skill setā€”heā€™s way out of fucking league here, but thereā€™s nothing for it. Eddie needs to settle this, once and for all.
So, he takes his bandana from the back pocket of his jeans and presses the flat of it to his forehead while his hands make a tight knot in the back. He zips his leather jacket as high as itā€™ll go and gives his hands a shake to try and get the jitters out.
Itā€™s not exactly a helmet and plates of armor, but itā€™ll have to do. Eddie takes a breath, steels himself, then climbs on top of a precariously stacked pile of milk crates that heā€™d crafted and leaps for the steel ladder. As soon as his feet leave the plastic tower, it collapses under him, clattering to the ground. Eddie knows he shouldnā€™t look back, but he sneaks a peak over his shoulder andā€¦ yep. He really shouldnā€™tā€™ve looked. Heā€™s not that high up, but itā€™s enough that if he falls, heā€™d be feeling it tomorrow. Might even bust an ankle if he landed wrong.
He turns back to the task at hand; getting to Steve.
Thereā€™s a terrifying moment where heā€™s not sure if he can pull himself up, but somehow, he finds the strength to do just that. If only Coach Dā€™Amour could see him now!
He grunts as he pulls himself up onto the platform, belly getting scratched against the grates as he goes. Eddie scrambles to get his legs underneath himself. Then, he stands, dusts himself off and takes the win, graceless as it was.
The fire escape is rickety and fucking loud as he takes the steps two at a time. Itā€™s cold enough that even the quickest touch of the steel railings drains all the heat out of his fingers, so he just keeps them balled up, swinging at his sides. The wind is especially chilly up here too, something he hadnā€™t noticed on the ground, but now that heā€™s up a couple of floors there wasnā€™t anything for the wind to buff off except the side of the building and, well, Eddie.
By the time he reaches the third floor, his nose is running and no doubt red and irritated looking, and heā€™s woefully out of breath.
Kind of a pathetic knight, he thinks as he sniffs back the worst of it, wipes the underside of his nose on the sleeve of his jacket to get rid of whatā€™s left.
The light in Steveā€™s room is on, reaching out to him through the lines of Steveā€™s shut blinds.
His hand is raised, wind-chapped knuckles knocking against the glass of his window before he can plan out what heā€™s going to say. He just wants to see Steve. Get eyes on him again. Work this out.
Itā€™s a painful few seconds before Eddie can see movement from inside the window. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently waits for Steve to let him in. His breath fogs the window.
Then finally. Finally! The blinds are pulled up. He smiles andā€”
Oh Christ on a cross. Thatā€™s not Steve.
Eddieā€™s stomach damn near falls out of his ass as the woman on the other side of the glass screams, as shrill and high as if she were next to him.
And of course sheā€™s in a fucking towel.
Eddie slaps one hand across his eyes and the other up in surrender, ā€œIā€™m sorry! Iā€™m sorry! Shit, Jesus, Iā€”Iā€™m not a pervert, I swear!ā€
Debatable, his brain supplies, entirely unhelpful in an emergency situation. But hey, whatā€™s new?
ā€œI was looking for my friend, notā€”Please stop screaming!ā€ He screams.
ā€œEddie?ā€ A familiar voice calls from below.
The hand on Eddieā€™s eyes lift and looks down through the metal grates under his boots. ā€œSteve!ā€
Steveā€™s hanging half out his window, peering up at him with a bewildered expression on his face. ā€œWhatā€™re you doing?ā€
Eddie holds his arms out like it should be obvious. ā€œSeeing you!ā€ He snaps.
Eddieā€™s attention is briefly yanked back to the scandalized looking woman in the window in front of him. ā€œIā€™mā€”yeah, Iā€™m gonnaā€”ā€ He backs away, and swings around the escape before thundering down the stairs, shouting another apology up in his shameful retreat.
Steve backs up in order to let Eddie in. He climbs in as gracelessly as ever, all knees and elbows, stiff from the cold. He slides the window shut behind him once heā€™s in, dropping the blinds for good measure.
He wonders if Hopper is getting a call about a long-haired, wild-eyed, deranged looking peeping Tom at this very moment.
ā€œSmooth.ā€ Steve says from behind him, an edge of playfulness.
When Eddie turns and finally gets a good look at Steve, who looks especially comfortable in his flannel sleep pants and worn sweater, hands on hips. ā€œI was looking for you.ā€
ā€œYeah, I got that,ā€ Steve snorts softly, ā€œthird floor, remember?ā€
ā€œI counted! Ground floor, first floor, second floor, third floor.ā€ Eddie says, using his hand to indicate his pattern of thought, moving it up a tick with each floor.
Steve scoffs, shaking his head. And even though Eddie knows Steveā€™s laughing at him, he canā€™t help that warm feeling that pours through him, filling him up. All his cracks and edges, sealed up with Steveā€™s effortless being.
ā€œNo.ā€ Steve raises his own hand, mirroring Eddieā€™s. He begins notching as he explains, ā€œground floor, second floor, third floor. The ground is the first floor, dude.ā€
Eddie frowns. ā€œWhat? Since when?ā€
Steve levels Eddie with a flat look. ā€œSince like, the civil war, dude.ā€
Huh. Eddie frowns. Mulling over the new bit of information. That wouldā€™ve been nice to know.
ā€œWhy were you even doing out there in the first place? We have things called front doors. And, yā€™know, phones.ā€ Steve crosses his arms across his chest, losing a bit of steam as the words left him. Like heā€™s realized exactly what Eddie being here, in his rooms, meant.
ā€œI had to see you.ā€ Eddie says, like itā€™s not the most obvious thing in the world, ā€œFace to face, just me and you.ā€
ā€œCanā€™t we justā€”I donā€™t know, pretend all ofā€¦ that never happened? Hell, it might drop out of my head one of these days anyway. Lots of shit does.ā€ Steveā€™s says, sounding so fucking defeated that it sends a sharp pain through Eddieā€™s chest.
ā€œHey,ā€ Eddie makes a face, gets in Steveā€™s space, ā€œdonā€™t be a jerk to yourself.ā€
He ducks his head in an attempt to meet Steveā€™s downturned gaze, which he reluctantly returns. Heā€™s got these big, warm eyes, the color of dark honeyā€”the kind that are hard to look away from, so Eddie rarely does. Heā€™a got a staring problem, he knows, butā€¦ damn. Can you really blame a guy?
A nerve in Steveā€™s jaw jumps when he clenches his teeth together, and salt pools begin forming along the rim of those familiar eyes. When he speaks, itā€™s stiff. Barely above a whisper. ā€œIā€™m embarrassed, alright?ā€
ā€œYou donā€™t gotta be embarrassed, man.ā€ Without thought, Eddieā€™s hands go to Steveā€™s arms, fingers hovering around his elbows. Eddie tilts his head again to try and keep eye contact again but Steve seems determined to avoid it.
ā€œEasy for you to say.ā€ Steve huffs, and sits down on the edge of his bed, slipping out of Eddieā€™s hold, arms still crossed over his chest. ā€œYou didnā€™t totally humiliate yourself in front of yourā€”friend.ā€
The word, one in which Eddie holds in a most sacred of views, sounds distinctly hollow when Steve says it.
ā€œSteve, listen to me, just for a sec, alright?ā€ Eddie gets down to the floor, one knee buried in the carpet while the others bent out in front of him. ā€œThis is my fault.ā€ He confesses, voice full of remorse.
Finally, Steve looks at him. His brows twitch together as he makes a face. ā€œBullshit.ā€
ā€œNo, itā€™s true! Iā€”I didnā€™t mean to, but Iā€™m not exactly big on the whole impulse control thing, as you know, and, thinking back on things I probablyā€¦ I probably let a few things slip.ā€ Eddie explains, his rings clinking together lightly as he gestures with his hands.
Steve, however, doesnā€™t look any less confused. He blinks. ā€œWhat?ā€
Eddie lets his head fall forward in a moment of defeat as he attempts to gather up his fleeting thoughts. Itā€™s like chasing wet, feral cats up there!
Still, he picks himself back up. For Steve.
ā€œWhat Iā€™m trying to say isā€¦ā€ Eddie puts his hands on Steveā€™s knees. Feels the warmth under the soft, worn flannel. The hard muscle. Alive, whole. He tightens his grip. ā€œSteve, Iā€™ve been crazy about you since the first time I ever saw you. Donā€™t roll your eyesā€”Iā€™m serious! You sat in front of me in math one year and you forgot your pencil. We were having a test that day, and you asked me if you could borrow one of mine, so I let you have the one I was using. You chewed up the end of it, squashed the eraser to all hell, but then when you gave it back to me, you smiled, thanked me and said, ā€˜I owe you one.ā€™ Itā€”okay, yeah, so it sounds, like, really small, and probably pretty pathetic, butā€¦ I was totally starstruck, man.ā€
At some point in his little spiel, Steve had uncrossed his arms. So Eddie takes the opportunity to clumsily take Steveā€™s hands, his insides feeling like a kicked hornets nest. Buzzing. He swallows. ā€œI still am.ā€
Steve keeps his mouth shut, but thereā€™s a knot in him thatā€™s loosening, Eddie can tell. Heā€™s just gotta keep tugging. He squeezes Steveā€™s fingers.
ā€œThe feeling was cranked up a few hundred clicks because of all the, yā€™know, near death experiences we went through together. But you get it now, right? You get how this is all my fault?ā€
ā€œEddie, you donā€™t have toā€”ā€ Steve starts, hands stiffening in Eddieā€™s hold. Slipping away. But Eddie holds firm, decides to just fucking say it. If Steve could, Eddie could too.
ā€œIā€™m in love with you too.ā€ He blurts out, and now that heā€™s said it out loud, itā€™s like thereā€™s a dam that gets busted inside of him; he canā€™t stop the rush of words that follows the confession. ā€œThatā€™s what you were seeing. Thatā€™s what you were noticing. I thought I was being slick, just keeping it friendly or whatever. Flirting, yeah, but I didnā€™t think youā€™d ever actually reciprocate. Because, honestly man, Iā€™m not really used to people taking me all that seriously. ā€˜Zany, pot-head Eddie, canā€™t trust anything that comes out of his crooked mouth!ā€™ā€
Eddie shakes his head, scoffing at his own blind spots, ā€œButā€¦ you saw right through that shitā€”right through me. You didnā€™t make it up in your head, Steveā€”you felt it. You were right.ā€
Steveā€™s got a funny look on his face, but he nods. A lock of hair falls over his forehead, but he doesnā€™t remove his hands from Eddieā€™s to fix it. ā€œYou love me?ā€
Thatā€™s like asking if the sun would rise tomorrow morning. Of course. Of course.
Eddie pulls one of Steveā€™s hands and flattens it onto his chest, over the leather.
ā€œEvery time my heart beats, it's your name it calls out, man.ā€ Eddie says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he sees the red creep up on the apples of Steveā€™s cheeks. ā€œDā€™you feel it?ā€
Steve gives a breathless chuckle, hesitating for a split second before he nods, playing along.
Electricity hums under Eddieā€™s skin, the resulting static snaps in the air around them. Eddie presses Steveā€™s hand against the wall of his chest a little harder, so that he can feel the pounding a bit better. Then Eddie whispers in time with the rhythm of his lovesick heart, giving it a voice, ā€œSte-vie, Ste-vie, Ste-vieā€¦ā€
He keeps chanting until Steveā€™s grinning, eyes glued to their joined hands. Itā€™s a fleeting thing, though. Eddie watches as that hard-won smile drops and a pinched look takes its place. ā€œEven now? Eddie, Iā€™m notā€”I donā€™t think Iā€™m the same person I was before.ā€
ā€œAre you kidding me? Especially now. In sickness and in health, right?ā€ Somewhere in his brain an alarm sounds, but he doesnā€™t pause long enough to acknowledge exactly why, lest he lose momentum, ā€œlook, Steve, even if you are a little different from the guy you were in high school, youā€™re still you.ā€
A beat passes. ā€œWhat if I never get better?ā€
ā€œSteve, you will, the doctors saidā€”ā€
ā€œBut what if I donā€™t? Jesus, Eddie, what if I get worse?ā€ Steveā€™s voice had gone progressively more hushed as he spoke, as if he were so afraid of its possibility that even voicing it felt risky. Made it real, even in that small way. Itā€™s something Steveā€™s thought about, Eddie realizes. Agonized over, even.
ā€œThen Iā€™m the lucky son of a bitch that gets to take care of you.ā€ Eddie says, sure as shit. Truthfully, he canā€™t think of anything else heā€™d rather do, even if Steve hadnā€™t done a completely insane thing like falling in love with Eddie. His love isnā€™t conditional. ā€œSā€™long as youā€™ll let me.ā€ He tacks on.
Itā€™s like a wall crumbling. Brick by brick, Eddie watches Steveā€™s resolve collapse. The rim of his eyes shine with unshed tears, his brow relaxes and his chin twitches. ā€œYou sure you want that?ā€
He scoffs, eyes wide. ā€œItā€™s all I want.ā€ He answers, quickly. A reflex. Who wouldnā€™t want to be with Steve Harrington? Eddie thought he was lucky just to be in the same fucking orbit as the guy, but nowā€¦
Now, as he watches a smile slowly spreads across Steveā€™s faceā€”fucking Adonis incarnateā€”it feels like he won the goddamn lottery.
ā€œOkay.ā€ Steve utters, so softly that for a second Eddie thinks heā€™d imagined it.
ā€œOkay?ā€ Eddie asks, trying his damndest to keep from imploding. Heā€™s fucking vibrating in his skin.
Instead of answering Eddie, Steve decides to clarify himself by leaning forward and pressing his mouth against Eddieā€™s.
Fireworks go off inside of Eddie, every inch of him. All lit up. Feels like heā€™s shining just as good as any knight.
One of Steveā€™s hands snake their way behind Eddieā€™s neck, pulling him closer, while the other remains held over Eddieā€™s jackrabbiting heart. Their lips part, and their kiss deepens. Eddie tries to keep up.
They eventually end up on Steveā€™s narrow twin bed laying side by side, legs entangled, kissing until their mouths go dry. Eddie swipes a calloused thumb over Steveā€™s cheek, savoring the feeling of the barely there stubble, the heat from the blush that never seems to subside.
They donā€™t speak for the rest of the night. Not even a ā€˜goodnightā€™ after Steve crawls over Eddie to flick off his bedside lamp, tugging the comforter up around their shoulders as he settles back into the safe harbor of Eddieā€™s arms. They donā€™t need words. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight, all they need to do is to rest.
Whatever comes after, theyā€™ll deal with it together.
ā€”
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