#sry-chrlie.

[alec-flynn]

WHERE: charlie’s apartment. WHO: @sry-chrlie​ & alec.

To say that it had been a shit twenty-four hours was, in a sense, putting it very fucking lightly. It was like a sitcom laundry list of things gone wrong, every bad decision Alec had ever made coming back with a vengeance to bite him right in the dick. He’d slipped his last twenty into Oli’s things, had walked the mile back down the road to find his van had been towed, and on the way had found out through texts that, oh yeah, deja fucking vu, Flynn, you’re gonna be a dad! 

So the ten minute drive to Charlie’s had taken well over an hour and he’d arrived in no mood for talking about any of it. So he’d slept on it, Damaris stopped by, and his life as he knew it was absolutely obliterated once more.

Sitting on the couch beside Charlie now, Alec rolled the joint between his fingers, eyes on the end alit in amber. “On a scale of one to not-at-all, how surprised would you be if I said I fucked up?”

[hopekang]

For twenty-two years, Hope had been the best possible kid. Never once, in her younger years, did she dare cross her Mother. She was a last hope, much as her name proclaimed, and all she wanted was to be the kid that her Mother dreamed of when she closed her eyes at night. 

But, honestly, fuck that. Twenty-two years of censoring herself, suppressing her own thoughts and feelings, and forcing herself into the box her Mother had built for her were finally boiling over, and Hope was determined to make the biggest possible mess in the progress. 

It had been too long since Hope had found herself actually enjoying life, and the evening had been a breath of fresh air. The black dress that she had fished out of the depths of Elodie’s closet clung to her in a way that she never imagined being comfortable with. But, as it turned out, liquid courage was a real thing, and she had stopped worry about the way it rode up her thighs somewhere between the second drink and the final round. 

Now, with the world a touch more hazy than it had been when she left the house, Hope was committing to chaos even more with these photos. It was stupid, and all together very petty to do this just to spite her mother. Plus, Jamie was right, and she could just actually sleep with Charlie to save herself such a hassle. But, this seemed more fun. 

They had made their way into Charlie’s apartment. They had gotten a few photos at the bar, but nothing all that scandalous to anyone with common sense and an understanding of modern society. “Right, so, make Susan’s skin crawl,” Hope mused, doing her best to not feel awkward. It wasn’t, really, she was used to being on camera by now. But, that might have been part of the problem. She couldn’t seem to aware of what she was doing, could she?

@sry-chrlie​

[starizhu]

who: stari & a stranger & greg (mentions of @sry-chrlie and @alec-flynn and @oliverhayde) when: january 6, 2022 what: the acquisition and loss of the most money stari’s ever seen at once

part one: the acquisition

Star felt a bit guilty for selling a gift. Especially because these boots were the cutest things she’d ever seen, and they fit her vibe better than anything she could’ve even picked for herself. It was like Charlie had found her in boot form, and gifted her little mini versions of herself. However, because it was Charlie, he’d also (somehow accidentally or unknowingly) gifted her something worth almost fifteen hundred dollars. One thousand, five hundred actual American dollars. 

She’d just been looking them up to see what they were called, she hadn’t meant to find the price, and she’d given herself a heart attack when she’d found it. 

Imagine having fifteen hundred whole dollars and spending it on boots? Charlie was a level of wealthy that Stari would never, ever understand. She would probably hate him for it if it were possible at all to hate Charlie North. Fortunately, it was impossible, and he was one of the best friends she had, and so she figured he’d probably understand that fifteen hundred dollars was more useful to her than the boots would be, even if they did make her feel like a badass.

She met the buyer outside the bodega after her shift, and the tug at her heart when the stranger took the boots away was quickly relieved by the giant wad of cash in an envelope she’d gotten in return. It wasn’t fifteen hundred whole dollars, on account of Stari having worn the boots almost every day since she got them, but it was still more money than she’d ever seen outside of a cash register. She felt a bit nervous with it, like she’d stolen it, or like someone else was standing behind her, about to steal it. It was the way she’d felt with all of her belongings since the break in at her shelter locker, but amped up to a hundred. She put the money safely in her purse, which helped, but only slightly.

part two: the loss

Becoming a dealer-by-proxy was not on Stari’s initial To Do list for the day, but almost nothing was, besides work and selling the boots. Right now all Stari was doing was wandering around town, the envelope of twenties burning a hole in her bag, and making her slightly paranoid at any sudden movement. 

She’d found herself at the library, using her bag as a cushion to hide it from the world. She was texting Alec, who was complaining about the horrific lack of marijuana in his life, and she wanted to tell him to find his balls and ask Oliver himself, but she didn’t. And she wouldn’t. Because she knew better than anyone that sometimes, when things are just the right amount of complicated, you just can’t ask people for things, even if you know they’d say yes.

She threatened to charge him extra for making her a go-between, but he called her bluff pretty immediately. She joked about making him dance for it, instead, and something in the way he answered told her she might actually get her wish with that one. 

But then she had to try to figure out how exactly she was getting this weed for him. Any other time, she’d just buy from Oli herself and then sell it to Alec and Oli would never have to know. But starting tomorrow, she’d be living with Oliver. He might notice if the entire thing was gone by then and she needed more, less than 24 hours later. Asking him outright was obviously an option, but Stari just needed a single day where she wasn’t making things awkward for everyone.

And so, within about an hour, despite her own better judgement, she was heading to see Greg Craig - was that his real name? - to skip the middleman. She’d dealt with him before, and people much worse than him, but she’d had powder courage powering her then, and now she just had... well, not much. She was going to have to rely on the fact that Greg was a stupid man, and if there was anything Star could do blindfolded, it was get what she wanted from stupid men.

He smiled when he saw her, but Greg smiled when he saw anyone. It was a charming smile, meant to disarm his prey before he ate them or whatever the fuck he did with people. He was a creep, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t nearly as scary as she’d worked him up to be in her head. Even if he was about 7′4″. 

She smiled back, matching the level of charm, and was about to explain what it was that she wanted, when he spoke first.

“If you’re here to pick up Hayde’s supply, go back and tell him I’m not that easy. I need the rest of my money. I won’t forget about that just because he sends a chick in his place... even if she is hot.” His eyes looked her up and down in a way she didn’t love, but she was much more thrown by what he’d said.

Oliver owed him money? The charm had disappeared from Greg’s smile, and his whole face had shifted into predator mode. Suddenly, a million things that Oli had said - about why he was fighting for the Revenants, and why he couldn’t give her drugs when she’d been desperate - ran through her mind at lightning speed. 

“How much... was left, again? Of the debt? Just checking,” she asked.

“Twelve hundred,” he said.

Stari nodded, and got the envelope out of her bag, and started counting twenties. She added some extra to the pile, put her charming smile back on and asked for an eighth on top. Normally, it would have been much more difficult to get this guy to stoop to the level of a dealer... but the stack of cash seemed to loosen him up nicely, and he got it for her with a smile and a kind-of-creepy ‘pleasure doing business with you’.

Her purse felt lighter and her shoulders felt lighter and she wanted to run straight to Oli and tell him what had happened - but she was a businesswoman now and her work wasn’t done. She had a deal to make. And, with any luck, a dance to see.

[indyerstraits]

Jamie thought he knew what he was signing up for when he sent Charlie his family’s Christmas list but there was no way he could’ve anticipated the absolute avalanche of Christmas cheer that poured in through his front door. There were bells and pine, velvet ribbons and a very big sack that wasn’t just a metaphor for testicles. Charlie hadn’t been kidding about making Christmas memorable for the Dyer kids but Jamie couldn’t help but wonder if part of it was just Charlie trying to relive his youth. 

The house was empty of children save for Kahlua who was too young to go bowling. She was but an unwitting witness to the sparkles and red hair that blew into the house, thrilled by the shiny tinsel and Charlie’s little pom pom. She bounced in her bouncer, her tiny feet scraping against the carpet as she tried to make her way into a box filled with shiny baubles.

“Is this real?” Jamie asked as he circled a small tree, examining the pines for authenticity. He couldn’t recall if they’d ever had a real tree in the house before, even if he could remember a tree during a Christmas past. 

All memory of the holiday laid in murky waters, even for Jamie whose mind was a steel trap. It was almost like his brain was trying to protect him from the dangers of lurking too close after what had happened years ago, determined to bury the idea of joy and family coexisting. Jamie couldn’t help but feel a little optimistic about this year while surrounded by so much stuff, however. The colours alone were enough to rouse excitement in his chest, thought of his siblings’ faces on Christmas morning was just the icing on the cake.

He plucked a clear ornament out of a box and held it up to the light, its shiny surface gleaming with potential. Jamie glanced at Charlie.

“I thought you said you were just bringing over presents. This is a lot more than gifts, Santa.”

@sry-chrlie​

[damarisbailey]

location: old fairgrounds feat. @sry-chrlie​

The crisp autumn air snaked around her neck, a hand reaching to the opposite arm to pull the sweater under her coat until it covered her fingers. It... Was cold. ​Damaris looked around, hearing some metal chain creaking as it swung in the breeze. The fog creeped on the floor, and she could swear someone... Or something was watching them. 

“Are you sure about this?” Her timid voice squeaked out, head scrunching down into the jacket. This was too too creepy. She was sure that just then some clown in a mask was going to come around the bend and ask them if they wanted some candy. A arm quickly reached around Charlie’s, linking them closer together. “You said this was going to be fun.”

[damianfitz]

broadripple academy: twilight au | inspired by this poster

@gwescott​ @tristhyun @sry-chrlie

[johnnieward]

SWAT must’ve been the most misleading group abbreviation on campus right next to the BBC which had approximately .5 of anyone who wasn’t purely Caucasian. SWAT sounded like a championship paintball group good enough to entrench on copyright infringement but what he got was pinball and pizza which, while mundane, didn’t sound all that much different from the shit he and his pals did back home. 

Was he excited to play arcade games? Not really. What he was excited about was introducing his baby to his other baby (bro). Johnnie had insisted on driving there himself, despite not knowing squat about Massachusetts. Figured Google Maps would do him a solid and be his wing person while he flexed the only thing he had on Charlie North. 

“This is Babe,” he said with a flourish, circling around the hood of the car as he admired the white chrome of his 64.5′ Mustang. She was big and beautiful, a hefty load of an ol’ gal. The top had been placed on for the Winter, but Johnnie didn’t look any less impressed, glowing with the same admiration he had when they’d first met in the parking lot of a Dollar Tree. 

Johnnie grinned over the hood at Charlie, waggling his brows as he unlocked the car door and ducked inside.

The interior smelled like Victoria’s secret body spray and something distinctly Johnnie, a crumpled string of condom wrappers and an empty can of beer on the floor of the front seat completing the story. He grabbed the garbage and stuffed it into his glove compartment.

“First rule: driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

@sry-chrlie​

[nicodigiovanni]

Nico felt drained as he walked out of the pool area, unsteady bare feet on the slippery tiles. It was definitely time to get back to the lockers. Party was over now, due to buzzkills among the staff and the consequences will hit them tomorrow in the morning. Somewhat defeated, Nico just wanted to recover his shoes, clothes and then rush back to the safety of his room. His head was racing through the possibilities of what might wait for him the next day.

Now it was not as if they could expel them all, right? No way. He was confident of that, but truth was, he could not be certain. Sure, there were too many students at the party and more than a few had influential parents that would not accept mass expulsion. Then again, Nico’s dad was not one of those and his scholarship, well, it would depend the whims of the staff. Fuck if it was a mess… He could already imagine his inglorious return to Los Angeles and a life of flipping burgers at McDonalds. If he was lucky... 

A strong metallic clang interrupted his train of thoughts. It came from the seniors lockers didn’t it? He peered past the wall of metallic cabinets for the source of the noise, curious, or much more likely craving for a distraction, something to put his mind at ease.

A mess of a different kind awaited him on the other side. Charlie looked fucked up didn’t him? And while Nico would definitely not consider himself an expert, he could still swear that his friend high had taken a bad turn. Was he having a panic attack or something?  ‘Cazzo…’

“Hey man.” He took a few steps closer, wary not to startle his buddy. “Everything alright?” Not the smartest question after all. Fuck he could not let the staff see him this way. “I’m here with you man.”

@sry-chrlie​

[jasonncrth]

Some guys his age were obsessed with cars. Some were obsessed with porn, and girls so far out of their league Jules Verne couldn’t lift them up from twenty-thousand under the sea. 

Jason had an obsession with Charlie North. It wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t unusual. 

Since day one at Broadripple, he’d been following the senior from afar. Catching glimpses at the front office. Casually observing him in the hallways. Sniffing out his schedule, and committing it to memory, taking every opportunity he could to map out the moments when Charlie was alone. Jason felt like a fucking stalker just watching that carrot top from his locker, seeing the way he interacted with his friends, with girls, stewing in his fury all the while. 

He smiled like his father. 

The opportunity came his second Tuesday during biology. Jason stepped out for a bathroom break to find Charlie standing there, hunched over the water fountain. He didn’t speak for a while. Not because he didn’t know what to say; he’d been planning it for weeks, had rehearsed it in his head until it became a second language. And yet, when the moment came, he found himself speechless. None of what he’d practiced could capture the wave of emotions that pulled him under when finally faced with reality.

“Field hockey, huh?” he said, looming over the Charlie’s bent figure, a tall, imposing shadow. “Is that what they do in bumfuck, Virginia?” 

@sry-chrlie​

[alec-flynn]

sry-chrlie​:

━━━━━━━━━ ☼ ━━━━━━━━━

As soon as Charlie actually looked at Alec, he knew something was up. Alec gnawed on the side of his thumb like if he broke skin, his insides might reveal the secrets of the universe to him. Charlie knew what it was like to mistake blood for a cheat code. It never turned out pretty. There was always a game-ending glitch.

The Klonopin was doing nothing now for the way his heart beat in his chest. This was new territory. Terrifying territory. The chasm of Alec’s anxious gaze was one as yet unexplored. No matter how many times Charlie had joked about Alec showing up to parties with an acoustic guitar, the chords to Wonderwall, and all of his feelings, they’d never actually sat down for an important conversation the way this was threatening to be. 

What could possibly have happened?

Charlie began to take a step in Alec’s direction before the question stopped him in his tracks. “Uh… yeah, I think I’ve got a bottle of something back in my car. Give me a sec.” 

He jogged back out to the Tesla, briefly considering running away from this situation. But no. This was Alec. There was very little he wouldn’t do for his best friend. 

Returning with a fifth of bourbon, there was no hesitation this time. Charlie walked straight to Alec, sitting next to him on the ratty couch. Wordlessly, he opened the bottle, offering it to Alec for first swig.

“Not to jump the gun, but… your parents are okay, right?” he asked. “‘Cause I swear, dude, if Daisy kicks it before my dad, I will find God and wreck his day.” 

.

Alec’s fingers drummed anxiously against his thighs, nodding his head toward Charlie as he watched him back out through the door he’d just come in. He readjusted himself on the couch, letting his head fall back on the cushions as he looked up at the textured ceiling, trying to see pictures in the small shadows they cast. He was not well-acquainted with this kind of uneasiness and it felt as though every nerve crackled and fried, leaving him twitchy and defenseless. 

Charlie reentered and the relief caught in the tightness of his chest. The couch bowed beneath the added weight and Alec greedily reached for the bottle as it was offered to him. He took several gulps, the liquid burning its way down his throat and into his stomach where it sat like a reminder. It was only Charlie’s question that drew him back, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to understand the thought process. “What?” Realization dawned a half-second later, and Alec waved a dismissive hand as he held the bottle back out for Charlie to take. “Nah, man, nothing like that. They’re in, like, Nashville right now or some shit. Festival or something. They’re good.” 

He willed the alcohol to snake through his veins quicker, willed the words he didn’t have to come. He didn’t know where to start, didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know how he felt. It’d been a year and he was still just as lost.

“I fucked up,” he said suddenly, his eyes falling to the hands that clasped and unclasped in front of him. He knew that declaration was a pretty broad spectrum. It was sort of the pinnacle of who Alec was as a person. Frankly, he found it to be part of his charm. 

In any other situation, he would have made the joke, but instead he ran a hand through his hair again and realized the words were never going to come. There was no right order for what he was about to say. There was no poetry to be found here. “I hooked up with Damaris Bailey last year.” He paused, glancing over at Charlie, trying to get a read on him, wondering if he thought that was enough of a confession to warrant the tension that was bleeding out in the room. “And, I don’t know, like, two months later she, uh.” He chuckled once, though it was without humor, and ran a hand over the scruff that dusted his jaw. “She told me she was pregnant.”

[starizhu]

who: @sry-chrlie​ where: party central, usa what: asking love advice from the least qualified person she can find

The problem with Damaris having chosen five or six different ‘signature cocktails’ for this party was that Stari had needed to try all of them. And then, when she’d loved all of them, had needed to try them all a couple more times. And then, after she realized this was the least sober she’d been in about two weeks ... maybe just one more.

The problem with that was that alcohol was a depressant, and while she’d been a fun, silly party-girl all night, she was now just staring at her phone, at the texts she wasn’t getting, in between longing stares across the backyard in various directions.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlie walk by, and (with reflexes that shouldn’t have been possible after this many holiday-themed drinks) grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit next to her. 

“Charlie,” she said, sighing dramatically, “have you ever been in love?”

[starizhu]

who: @sry-chrlie​ where: charlie’s place what: slumber party

Her phone was almost dead from all the texts tonight, but she felt like she knew just as much about the situation as she had before - only now she knew there was a situation, so she felt altogether worse off. Charlie had beat up Oliver? Except he hadn’t beat him up. But they were fighting. And Alec had something to do with it? It all seemed very high school.

Stari was way too tired and hungry to care about that, and she’d been walking down highways in the dark for almost two hours to get here, so if it looked like she was taking sides by staying at Charlie’s, that was a thing she’d deal with later. 

She knocked on the door with her elbow, still texting, and waited.

[johnnieward]

With a pool party on the horizon, the most natural place any smart kid would find himself at was the gym. Johnnie was far from the muscle-bound studs at Broadripple, having always been incredibly lean his entire life regardless of the calories he put down. The combination of poor nutrition and awful resources back home discouraged him from taking fitness too seriously outside of PE and baseball. He was a fast runner and a heavy hitter, which was all he convinced himself that he needed to be until he left West Virginia and saw what daily meals did for teenage boys above the poverty line.

Every boy in the BBC looked like they were all manufactured in the same factory where they made Abercrombie models. Tall, fit and bronzed like statues, Johnnie stuck out like a sore thumb standing among the rest. It was one of those things he’d never thought about until he saw it with his own two eyes, primarily in his best friend Charlie North who looked like he was one deep inhale away from bursting out of his shirt at all times. 

It was hard not to look and notice and stare while he was pulling weights, said strained shirt and heavy breathing making a combination that roused a part of his brain that made him uneasy for reasons he couldn’t describe. Johnnie shook his head and loaded up plates onto the bar, determined to put that energy into a good workout. Jealousy didn’t do anybody any good if he just sat still the whole time.

“Hey He-Man, are you gonna come spot me or what?” her asked, flattening himself on the bench. 

@sry-chrlie​

[johnnieward]

Go bitch, go bitch, go bestie Can't fuck with these hoes 'cause they messy

@sry-chrlie

[johnnieward]

The party was going swimmingly even if Johnnie spent a large portion of it loitering around outside around the edge of the pool. Everyone he invited had showed up and he’d spent a little time with each of them for better or worse, saying hello in the least and getting into an argument at the most. All in all, it was what he expected it to be. Reckless, teenage fun in water. It was the liveliest he’d seen the students at Broadripple before and he liked knowing  that they weren’t so different than the kids he knew at home.

It was just that something was missing. 

He’d caught sight of it a few times. First time was passing him with a dirty look like he’d done something. Johnnie hadn’t thought much of it until Maria showed up angry. Then, it was kind of hard to have a good time knowing his bestie had gone and ruined the one thing he was really looking forward to. 

The second time he caught sight of it was beside the pool with someone else, his fists clenched around what looked like drugs he was peddling to whoever wanted it. Johnnie didn’t judge when he did his fair share of partying. Only, he watched him pound those pills over the span of the night like he couldn’t go the hour without them.

Charlie was an orange pinball, ricocheting off of everyone but him. After a while, Johnnie felt glad that he did and spared him the rest of the night. He preferred spending it with people who hadn’t chosen Kat Bishop over him.

It was just by chance that he nicked shoulders with Charlie on the way into the locker rooms as he was on his way out. He looked blitzed, his eyes black and skin shiny with something oilier than water. Johnnie had seen it before at the arcade, but not to this degree. He looked like a stranger.

“You’ve got shit on your face,” he said, gesturing to his nose. “You been avoidin’ me or somethin’?”

@sry-chrlie​

[johnnieward]

Watching Charlie crumble was not unlike seeing a lion get torn down by a shotgun or an ancient city collapse. There was something regal about him that made it seem especially tragic and wrong.

inspo.

@sry-chrlie