More often than not as of late, Jack and Billy had found themselves on the late shift together ( he didn't know what Billy had bribed the pool manager with to make that happen, and wasn't sure he wanted to know ), and that involved the inevitable task of closing up after all of the snotty little kids and their leering mothers had gone home for the day. The peace and quiet of that final hour was always a welcome reprieve, and in recent weeks the pool building after close had become the one place other than Billy's camaro where they could... indulge without fear of being caught or seen.
Tonight they'd changed out of their red lifeguard shorts at least ( after all, Jack was getting picked up by Steve after his shift ended in... well, he didn't know the exact time, but it was at least another half an hour from now. definitely ), but Jack could still feel Billy's hand reaching up and under his t-shirt as he remained pinned against the wall of the shower room. He'd been there long enough that water was soaking through the back of the shirt and into his hair but, when the making out was this good, he really didn't care. Keys still in hand ( from where he really ought to have locked up this part of the pool ten minutes ago ), Jack's arms were wound eagerly around Billy's shoulders, keeping him close, moaning a little into the movement of the other boy's mouth on his own. Any moment now, he'd gently push Billy away and finish up the last few jobs before they left. Just as soon as he stopped doing that thing with his tongue, slow and deliberate and maddening all at the same time...
@hargrovetm & @harringtontm
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morning after starters : " 𝚜𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎? "
she rises from the sea of linen sheets like aphrodi'te ────── emerging from rolling waves and salted foam to reveal her beauty for all the world to see; but here, upon her bed with the morning sun setting her skin aglow ― she is revealed for his eyes only...
cheek props itself atop a hand, a smile blossoming across her cheeks as she resists a laugh. " i guess that depends... " hera teases, reaching across to the sheets to playfully tap the tip of @harringtontm's nose ― tag, you're it... " when are you going to ask me, hm? "
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... asoiaf
meme // accepting // @harringtontm & @munsontm
Both you and Frankenstein sent this one in. Feels like a bit of a message...can't imagine what kind though...
So I'm familiar with the books as a whole but never read the series in its entirety. The first two books were definitely enjoyable for me so it's not like I have much of an excuse beyond laziness .
My favourite characters from the series aren't the same as the ones I would likely choose to rp. I prefer choosing muses who may need a bit of a facelift. So, anyway, muses I would consider are: Joffrey Lannister, Ramsey Bolton, Rodrick Greyjoy, and Aeron Greyjoy. But I think the one that would inevitably win out is Balon Greyjoy. Messy, morally questionable parents are just my thing. Idk what to say other than I'm a simple bitch who loves drama.
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♦ for the first word my muse thinks of when your muse is mentioned.
Send me a "♦" for the first word my muse thinks of when your muse is mentioned / accepting / @harringtontm
"Darlin', I could never use just one word to describe you. I'd have to use a buncha words and turn em' into a song. But if I gotta choose, then... everythin'."
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@harringtontm sent: what we do in the shadows, asoiaf, our flag means death ?
→ send me a fandom and I'll tell you what character I would RP from that fandom.
okay i have already answered wwdits but i will move onto the other two!
asoiaf → this one is so hard. not just because nobody really spoke to me the first time around when i watched/read, but also because i can't even remember half of the characters from the series now lmaoo. so the big one i remember contemplating back in the day was tyrion, but tbh i was never a huge fan of book!tyrion when i read the books and now all these years later i have varric, who scratches that particular itch in terms of type of character ( and is honestly superior ). i am really struggling when it comes to anyone else though ?? lmao. idk i sat here for an hour thinking about it and there's just nobody. head empty. it's not meant to be i don't think.
our flag means death → okay this one is a little easier. there still isn't really anyone that i want to write, but the character who piqued my interest the most when i watched was lucius, so i think in a hypothetical scenario he is the one i would pick.
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@harringtontm ; ❝ if we get through this, is there a thing where we, like, talk to each other about stuff… normally? ❞ ( x )
WHAT DOES A HEART ATTACK FEEL LIKE ? painful , he wagers . a stabbing , probably , or a slicing , cutting , something like that . he tries to think back to that fun night at ACJC when someone had felt the need to plunge a sharpened tooth brush into his back ( does Steve even know about this ? probably not ) and wonders if it’s a little like that . adrenaline rush , followed by a feeling he can only describe as searing and hot and the pain doesn’t actually settle in until the stitches are done and the high wears down . with his track record , one might think that Tommy is a sucker for pain , but there’s pain and then there’s pain and then there’s whatever this bullshit is that goes PANG in his chest when Steve asks this very question he had not anticipated . he feels his throat dry up ; tries to swallow once , twice but fails completely and only manages to scrape parched skin against more parched skin , causing another source of friction . awesome . this isn’t supposed to feel this way . talking to somebody one loves cares about , despite it all , isn’t supposed to feel this way .
Tommy takes another drag from his cigarette , hoping that Steve can neither see his heart pulsing in his throat , nor the slight tremble of his fingers when he brings them up to his lips . this may be the single , one moment of peace they might have before something new and excessively shitty happens and he’s not ready to talk about the what if’s and could be’s when his brain hasn’t even tuned in on the present moment yet . it’s not fair and a part of him is more than tempted to throw exactly that at Steve’s head , but he heroically resists the urge .
“ if we get through this , ” bright green eyes look at Steve then , his face betraying that he’s the opposite of happy , though it remains unclear as to why exactly . “ I’m gonna kill you . I’m gonna kill you so hard for dragging me into this shit , Harrington , I promise you that . ” he licks his lips , takes another nervous drag . “ now if you happen to survive that somehow , I’ll kill you again and if you also happen to survive that . . . ” a pause . almost as if he himself isn’t quite sure how to finish the sentence . a touch of anger has built up on his face while talking , brows knit together , the freckled nose scrunched up a little . and while he ponders the end to that sentence , it almost seems like he deflates ; tension seeping out of him , his face slowly relaxing again , and Tommy eventually blinks and clears his throat . “ maybe . I guess . whatever . ” well done , Hagan . now get that fucking flutter in your chest to stop .
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she doesn’t know at what point it happened. but she got swept in all of this, she could’ve gone a day without some stupid movie, she could’ve stopped going to family video the moment she figured out steve was there. but she didn’t. and now she’s knee deep in some shit. the vibes of this hell hole are fucked up. her nose is constantly bleeding everynow and then, and robin freaking out and everyone freaking out is a disservice, not mentioning how she somehow feels connected to all of this in some way. in a dream, in a nightmare so long ago. and she’s freaked out. it’s even weirder now because she’s involved with so many more people. and they’re so unbelievably thick and intense at the same it. it’s only now that robin ran off, freaked out and nancy followed her. leaving the both of them behind that she feels she can breathe. just a little. it’s scary, all of this, and it’s scarier how normal the group treat this. and now they’re here. the inevitable. the unavoidable, for when there’s dark there’s a light. and @harringtontm is holding it. just her luck.
she tries to roll with the punches. with the drumming in her head. with the worry over everyone else. but she walks, steve seemingly taller, since she ditched the boots. practicality or something. hands slid into the pockets of her hoodie. “-you know when i said i wanted to get in touch with the darker forces of the universe, this isn’t exactly how i pictured it to be.” she mentions off-handedly, because they talk now. they’re on talking terms. and it’s hard to ignore the strings tugging in her chest. even harder to ignore them when she can feel what steve is feeling. this nervousness, like he cares. like he likes her. like he wants to say the right things, concerned even. so different from that boy from so long ago, like someone else dug deep inside of him and pulled out exactly what heather had seen and felt a long time ago, she’s never wrong. and when she considered steve harrington the only mistake the only letter she read where she had missed the fine print well, she’s never wrong. bright blue eyes turn to him. looks at him, hopeful. and there is still this terrible possibility, that it is once more not her. that it is nancy wheeler again. and isn’t it dreadful? she pushes the thought aside. “-for once i was expecting some terrifying but hot demon to be involved, and you weren’t exactly in the picture, harrington. but, circumstances and rude wake up calls a side, at least the end of the world has got us talking again. on topics other than movies that you haven’t watched.”
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@harringtontm sent a meme: ❝ it isn’t fair, your age…having to deal with all of this. ❞ — from steve for dustin : ' )
At a certain point in the last couple of days, Dustin had run out of tears to shed — or at least they'd stopped falling. But that hadn't stopped the upset still leaving him in a chokehold, causing his bottom lip to wobble every now and then, giving him an almost permanent redness around his eyes, making his breath hitch ever occasionally when he spoke. The time itself had passed in a bit of a blur; Dustin could only remember flashes from the last two days. He remembered Steve pulling him away from Eddie. He remembered seeing government cars and helicopters piling into Hawkins. He remembered reuniting with Lucas and finding out what had happened to Max, even if he hadn't yet found the courage to go visit her at the hospital himself. That was where Eddie should have been, after all. That was where Dustin had promised to take him, in those final moments together under the stormy, reddened skies of the Upside Down.
Dustin was pretty sure Steve hadn't left his side ever since then — it had either been him or Robin close by, keeping an eye on him. They'd told his mom that they'd all been caught up in the earthquake and had been lucky to get out alive — explaining his limp after falling through the trailer gate after Eddie — and that it had left him feeling shaken. They couldn't tell her the truth. She could never know what or who he'd lost. She'd been worried enough about a killer being on the loose in Hawkins as it was. Like the rest of this town, she'd never believe that Eddie was innocent.
The silence between them this morning had been comfortable, sat on the bench outside on the front porch of his house, waiting on an update via the radio from Erica after their latest trip to the hospital. It was a surprise when Steve spoke. It felt like they'd barely said anything to each other over the last two days. Just having Steve around, someone who knew what had really happened, keeping him company, had been enough.
“ I just keep thinking that... if I'd gotten him to the gate in time, if we'd gotten him through, then he might have been at the hospital with Max right now. ” It was nice to speak the thoughts out loud to someone, even if Dustin's eyes watered a little as he said it. “ There might have been a chance. ”
He quickly rubbed his eyes, letting the quiet fall between them again. It stretched on a little while longer. “ You never got to play D&D with us. ” Dustin turned to look at Steve. Maybe it wasn't the most important thing to be thinking about right now, but there'd been a time not that long ago when all he'd wanted was for Steve and Eddie to stop being jealous of each other and just hang out. He turned the radio over in his hands. “ I really wanted you to play. I kept telling Eddie that one day you'd turn up to Hellfire when we needed a sub, and he never believed me. ”
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❝ ────── it means...our life sucks!! ❞
@harringtontm , 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 : 𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚠𝚜
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@harringtontm sent a meme: sleep. it's all right. i'll keep watch.
It was the first time he'd stopped to take a breath in at least four hours, maybe more. If he hadn't been up and down ladders, ensuring that hatches had indeed been battened down and that none of the torrential rain or ship-sized waves had pierced the hull, he was at the helm barking orders or in his cabin consulting his detailed, annotated charts. He couldn't afford to stop, particularly after nearly taking a tumble over the side of the ship ( after a rogue wave struck the Wicked Wench at an unexpected angle ), or else this would happen: he'd lean against the rail, his feet and legs would protest at the prospect of moving so much as another inch, and his eyes would slowly drift shut.
Fortunately he did not get so far as to actually drift off, brought back to attention as Jack was by the sound of a soft voice beside him. He opened his eyes to the sight of Steve Harrington, looking as wet and bedraggled as he probably did — but he couldn't quite stop looking at him. It was still raining, even though the storm had passed, and Jack had to acknowledge that the distracting way in which the water clung to Steve's shirt was a sign, if he'd needed one, that he'd been at sea far too long.
“ I'm fine. I'll manage a little longer. At least until the rain stops. ” Jack flashed what he hoped was a reassuring, grateful smile. Yet it wasn't just how Steve looked that was playing on his mind in that moment; it was the lightning fast way in which he'd jumped to attention and caught Jack before toppling over the side of the railing; it was the way he'd seen him helping out the other hands and mates on board in spite of his lack of experience; it was the stunning amount of maturity he'd displayed over the past few hours. Not even now, as the danger subsided, had Jack heard a single complaint from that direction.
“ Thank you. ” He deserved to hear it. As much as Jack enjoyed the thrill of a good squall, it was always a taxing affair — even more so as a captain. “ Were it not for you, I'd be over the side right now wishing I'd grown a tail and fins. ” Jack smiled again, more teasingly this time. “ Turns out you're not so bad at this after all. ”
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@harringtontm sent 🗣️for an incorrect quote
Ft. Steve Harrington & Tommy Hagan ( @thagantm )
Mutuals may reblog
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COOKING PROMPTS WITH: @harringtontm , ... " 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚞𝚙𝚌𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕! "
mouth is left agape ────── feigning a gasp with lips freshly wet with sweet batter: caught red handed. " i'm not gonna eat all of it! " she whines playfully, reaching for the wooden spoon he had so skillfully pulled from her grasp. lips purse into a pout as large, vivid eyes plead ― tugging at the delicate strings of his heart. " just a little more, pleeease? " oh, she knows how to get what she wants, especially from a man as doting as steve...
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“we’re all a little damaged inside. pobody’s nerfect.”
Max squinted at Steve as if he'd grown a second head. "Your face looks like raw beef," and, of course, there was the visible bump where the metal rod had collided with his skull. She knew how to bandage up a scrapped knee and clean out a nasty cut, but brain damage was above her pay grade. Still, her hand was steady she gently whipped away the dried blood. "Your concussion is talking and it's not making any sense."
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@harringtontm liked THIS for the husband.
There had been many occasions in Eddie's 28 years of life where he'd found himself in a strange bathroom reapplying his eyeliner. Although none of those times were at his wedding reception, that thought in itself was extraordinary. Eddie Mun--Harrington was married, actually hitched to a person, wild. Not legally, of course. But the law could get fucked. He lived by his own rules.
The red eyeshadow held up well and looked even better with a fresh coat of black liner. Eddie pouted seductively at himself in the mirror right as his new husband half-stumbled through the bathroom door with an open bottle of champagne in hand. He looked over the moon to have found him. It made Eddie smile while he drew neat lines around his other eye. "Hey, handsome. Couldn't go five minutes without me, huh?"
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@harringtontm sent a meme: can you keep a secret ? — for aimee
Aimee was reaching for one of the textbooks in her locker when Steve sidled up next to her in the corridor, all smiles and cocky confidence. Her curiosity was well and truly piqued as she shut the locker door and turned to face him, before her brows furrowed. “ OK but is this, like, a secret that’s actually gossip that Carol plans to make someone miserable with... or a secret secret? ” It was an important distinction to make. “ Like if you were harbouring a fugitive from Canada in your dad’s house or something, then of course I wouldn’t tell anyone about that. ”
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@harringtontm ; ❝ we should be good people. wouldn’t it be nice to wake up in the morning and not feel like a fucking piece of shit? ❞ ( x )
NINE IN THE FUCKING MORNING and there's an image slowly burning itself into Tommy's head ; it builds up piece by piece because , frankly , he still lacks the mental capacity to do anything faster than .2 miles per hour , but what steadily shows up is the picture of a sunshine-smiley idiot ( incidentally having Steve's face , funny how that works ) waking up in a bright bedroom , curtains wafting in the breeze , he stretches , sighs , tells himself what a lovely lovely day it will be and gets up , dressed in perfectly pressed , striped pajamas . there's coffee on the patio and a cheerful greeting for the equally stupidly dressed neighbor while he picks up the newspaper in a friggin' picket-fence neighborhood . clear-headed , awake , clean , filled with motivation for the day .
Tommy owlishly blinks against the morning sun , scratches the freckled chin . . .
. . . " eh , " and fishes around in his pocket for the shot bottle of bourbon to add to the thermos he'd nicked from his father . too much mental gymnastics at this hour . or any hour , for that matter . " that's what god invented counter-beer for . " fuck , his voice still sounds rough . and the only way to remedy that , apparently , is with a cigarette and a sip of bourbon-induced caffeine . to feeling like a fucking piece of shit . he shifts , sitting cross-legged on the hood of his pine-green Alfa Romeo , and lightly starts whacking the thermos to the side of Steve's head , shamelessly abusing the fact that the other boy's still flat on his back next to him and not looking like he intends to move anytime soon . fine by him . not like they got class in five minutes .
" drink up , sweetheart . you're not you when you're sober . "
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