Tumgik
#Murder Ahoy
collinsportmaine · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Margaret Rutherford’s last movie as Miss Marple was “Murder Ahoy!” (1964). It was not based on any specific Agatha Christie novels but it included elements from “They Do It With Mirrors”.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes
nine-frames · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I warn you, I was Ladies' National Fencing Champion in 1931."
Murder Ahoy!, 1964.
Dir. George Pollock | Writ. David Pursall & Jack Seddon | DOP Desmond Dickinson
5 notes · View notes
frooogscream · 13 days
Text
Every Con O’Neill character ticks at least three
•alcohol problem •manhandled by scary strong man (oh no😏) •shirtless scene •dad shaped (wholesome) •daddy shaped (sexual) •trauma •useless little worm •a homosexual •cool leather jacket •seductively smoking
…and then there’s Jim
Tumblr media
252 notes · View notes
ah0yh0y · 11 months
Text
what if i go insane over murder most unladylike
115 notes · View notes
Text
Have I written something for camboy today?
Yes.
Have I also written something for another AU that has made what feels like half the discord side eye me because they no longer believe me when I say "It will be fine"?
Yes.
26 notes · View notes
norcumii · 9 months
Text
Sliding in juuuust a little late (again - we’re 2 for 2!), I got some Rex/Obi for y’all for @rexobiweek!
I had at least two other ideas there were absolutely not working, and of course a chat with @dogmatix this evening meant she sparked a whole NEW plunnie.
Several hours and 2k odd words later, here we are.
Whoops?
This’ll go up on AO3 tomorrow. Fic beneath the cut!
Love Like the Tide - rated PG, modern AU, mermaid shenanigans, and mention of era-appropriate homophobia (and Jango’s spectacular parenting). Non-linear story-telling
using prompts of: Summer was almost over and they hadn't yet finished what they had intended to do; Skinny dipping; Sailor Knot Bracelets; lemonade; strawberries; sunflowers; Meteor Shower; Summer Fling; Wedding Invitation; Midnight Picnic
Obi-Wan’s always had a fondness for the little cave system at the furthest edges of the shoal’s territory. It’s dark and a little creepy, but generations of his people and humans have wandered through there, finding and leaving trinkets of various sorts. There’s some kind of camp on the human side of the caves, because during the warmest months there’s intermittent swarms of children of various ages clamoring around the beach at the oddest times.
And lots of teens making out in the caves. That was less than fun to realize, aside from – well. It was annoying.
Thankfully, it’s the last week of that camping nonsense, so Obi-Wan is looking forward to the autumnal quiet. And with the tide rolling in, it’s a good excuse to take a look at the caves. The easiest entrances are all underwater, but there’s a few of the larger ones that need high-tide to get to.
He swims off for them with the resolute determination that he’s just going for curiosity's sake. Nothing more.
***
As a teenager himself – not that his kind tended to think of that as an age group, but they had enough exposure through friends and allies that they understood the concept – Obi-Wan had been far too curious for his own good. He liked swimming too close to the humans, darting up the stream to their swimming hole to watch campers in their adorably awkward best to learn to swim.
(Adorable, and a bit laughable with all those legs and the splashing and no economy of motion whatsoever.)
He stuck too close to the shores, darting under the docks as they sprawled above him, sharing the strawberries they’d picked in some group activity.
(The ones they’d dropped in the water, by accident or teasing design – of course he’d snagged and eaten a number of them, and oh, he’d never tasted the like. He wasn’t one of the adults who dared to trade with the tiny handful of humans the shoal could trust, and he had no relatives of note who could vie for exotic goods. The memory of that strange sweetness had lingered with him for weeks.)
But he’d learned the price of curiosity, thanked the tides that it hadn’t been too cruel, and then he’d worked hard to keep his head down and out of trouble.
Mostly.
***
It’s easy to find the mouth of the caves, to slip inside and up, until his head breaks the surface and his gills eject water for air. His eyes are made for the deeps, so the cave itself is plenty bright. Smooth rock in delightful shapes, the erratic air-tide breeze trying to tug at his still dripping hair – Obi-Wan can admit in the privacy of his own mind that he always loves those first moments inside the rock hollows.
He lets the sway of the water carry him further in, and distantly he can make out the scent of smoke, the sound of laughter and human music. Someone mentioned there was some kind of party forming up the beach, but that’s far enough away he easily ignores it. He focuses instead on the wide, sloped ledge that at lower tides provides slippery access to the ground outside, and is just level enough that too ridiculously many picnics are held here.
It’s empty tonight, though Obi-Wan thinks he could easily hoist himself up, look out and see stars.
***
The stars had been brilliant that night, that third year in a row. He’d been just past his gawky phase, finally growing into his tail and limbs and feeling himself, watching the stars and feeling delightfully at peace with the world. His lips had still tingled, he could still taste strawberries and lemonade as drying salt prickled along his skin. Only his fins dipped into the water, and he’d known he’d have to return soon, but not yet.
They had time, yet.
(They hadn’t. There’d been startled voices, those teenagers who’d wanted to be necking only to be disappointed that the cave had been already occupied. Obi-Wan had slipped into the water almost in time – enough that he’d been presumed to be a human running away, not a mer swimming desperately for cover.
There’d been yelling. Awful words, fighting. Then angry human adults with flashlights and his own punishments when he’d fled right into the shoal’s adults who’d wanted to know what all the odd fuss was.
The memory of the reprimands that followed, the punishment detail of all the minor, boring drudge work – those were far less sweet.)
***
Obi-Wan shoves away from the ledge and the memories, moving further inside with purpose. He doesn’t stop at the large pool, instead squaring his shoulders and not glancing up at the wide walkway to his left. It’s empty, and there’s no reason to linger.
***
They often lingered together in the pool, tangled together. Obi-Wan’s gangly tail twining with Rex’s long silly legs, both working so hard to keep upright and not laugh – even giggling echoed so much in this area. The tunnels could carry that sound up, towards the humans, or out to the sea and across the waves where the shoal might notice. Of course, all it would take was one of them whispering an incredulous ‘skinny-dipping?’ to set them both off again. Obi-Wan just thought it sounded funny, and Rex would get an adorable flush up his neck as he’d glance over at the clothes he’d left on the stone.
(There’d been something lovely about it, the intimacy of nothing between them but the matching wristbands Rex had made them. Not that Obi-Wan would dare say, or could have imagined articulating.
Some dark nights, now years later, Obi-Wan wishes he had known how to craft those words.)
***
The very end of the cave opens to the sky – it’s a small, craggy opening, partially covered by grass, but Obi-Wan can glimpse the very edge of the moon and the tiny streaks of a meteor shower. The walkway ends in a shallow bowl, and humans are often silly and leave all sorts of trinkets there.
(At the end of that first, strange summer he swam in to find a bunch of sunflowers there, huge and bright as Rex’s hair. Obi-Wan hadn’t known what to do but laugh in astonishment, delighting in the strange, ridiculous gift.)
Tonight, there’s a man sprawled out there on his stomach, face turned away so all he can see is the short, bright blond.
That’s far more silly than Obi-Wan expected.
He’s honestly not sure he isn’t hallucinating.
He swims up to the edge of the bowl, peeking in. Full adult, and fully asleep as far as he can tell. Well-muscled, but lean, with dark skin. His dark pants are that weird length that’s too long for shorts, too short for actual pants, and his shirt’s sleeves are the same silly two-thirds length, giving him a bit of a formal air.
The thing that sets Obi-Wan’s heart racing though is three old, grimy bracelets held in the man’s hand, faded blue and once-white cords braided around each other. Three summers worth of bracelets, woven by those self-same hands if somehow, impossibly, he’s not hallucinating.
He tries to say a name, but it’s been over a dozen summers since he spoke a human tongue. A squeaky whistle comes out instead, and he has to clear his throat.
But that is enough, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he’s thrilled or terrified about that. The man’s head turns, and it’s Rex who faces him, older and with lovely strong lines to his face; delightful cheekbones; and that tender, sweet little smile on his lips. “Hi,” Rex whispers, then awareness clears his eyes and he jerks upright. “Oh holy shit, please don’t be a dream!”
Obi-Wan clears his throat again, a confused blush starting to burn its way up his cheeks. “Ah, hello there?” he tries, too confused to figure out which of a dozen questions he wants to ask.
Rex sits back, incredulity and stunned delight washing over his face. “It is you,” he breathes, then he grins. Obi-Wan isn’t sure, but he thinks Rex might also be starting to cry. “The beard is different. It suits you.”
“Thanks.” Obi-Wan resettles against the rock, and he can’t stop from reaching out to trace some faded scars along Rex’s chin and cheek. “These – they healed well.”
(He has faint stubble now, rough little hairs along his jaw. It’s hard, to pull his hand back instead of trying to find out what else feels different.)
He can’t read the human’s expression as Rex just looks at him, then he looks away, swiping a hand across his eyes. “You saw that.” As if Obi-Wan could forget any little detail of the last time he saw Rex, saw him brawling with the larger, older boy who’d called him terrible names.
(There’d been a sharp-edged ring cutting the bloody line across Rex’s cheek; his chin had smashed into the ground after another ugly punch. The tides had washed away the blood, for all that Obi-Wan sometimes still sees it in the shadows.)
“Yes.” He doesn’t know how to articulate all that, to compress years of grief and regret down into words, especially not human words. “I understand why you didn’t come back.”
Rex shakes his head, making a huff of noise that might be a laugh, or a scoff. “Session was over, but – no. My dad was the only one who was upset about the kissing a boy thing instead of the out after curfew thing.” He glances over and quirks a grin – that sly look inviting Obi-Wan in on a joke. “Then he thought it was a smart idea to send the queer kid off to military school. Full of only boys.”
He has many questions, but that’s for later. He has enough context to figure out the important bits. “Was it bad?”
From the distant expression, it wasn’t great. Rex shrugs. “Could’ve been worse. I could’ve been stuck around Dad more.” He shakes his head, and levels an intense look at Obi-Wan. “You got away okay though, right?”
It’s his turn to glance away uncomfortably. “Some of the elders – I swam into them on the way back. They were...not impressed. As you said: it could’ve been worse. Could have been humans.”
Rex’s eyes cut sharply away. Within moments the silence is unbearable. “What are you doing here?” Obi-Wan blurts out. Rex still won’t look at him, but he grins a little.
“A friend of mine is getting married this weekend. I mean, the ceremony was earlier, but they’re partying now. Anakin knows I’m not into parties, so no one will be looking for me. Honestly, the real miracle is that his wife convinced him that a beach wedding would be a good idea. He hates sand. So much.”
Obi-Wan reaches out, placing his hands over Rex’s – over the cut bracelets still in his hands. “Why?” he asks, cutting through the nervous babel.
(He fell in love with this boy, and he was stunned each time Rex returned with the summer. From that bizarre moment in the first summer, when a human had seen him and innocuously asked if Obi-Wan could help him fasten this bracelet, and oh hey, would he like one too?
He had, and he did. They’d cut them at the summer’s end, together, and traded the worn remains with each other.
Well. Not the last one, but he’d cherished it anyways.)
Rex frees one of his hands, reaches out to cup Obi-Wan’s cheek much as he’d done earlier, though there are no scars there to trace. “I didn’t get to say goodbye,” he whispers, searching for something in Obi-Wan’s eyes. “I didn’t want...that to be the end of it.”
It takes all of his courage to ask, “What if I didn’t want it to end?”
Rex’s face blossoms into the beautiful, crooked smile. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, already leaning in close.
It’s habit as old as their friendship: “I don’t know, can you?”
Rex beams and pecks him on the lips. “Signs point to yes.”
“Then you may kiss me.”
Rex leans in and takes his time, sweet and deep and with the kind of fervor Obi-Wan thought he’d imagined. He idly wonders if Rex came supplied with cord to make new bracelets (almost certainly), and how long he’ll be able to stay (with summer almost over, who knows?). Yet he can feel the certainty growing that if neither of them wanted things to end – like that, or otherwise – then they have good odds of making whatever-this-is grow.
Obi-Wan hoists himself up onto the rock, diving back towards Rex for another long, deep kiss. Apparently they do still have time.
~end
21 notes · View notes
florallylly · 2 months
Text
so CLEARLY the stobin big brother au brain rot had to come out some time and tbh this is going to be so scatterbrained bear with me
based off of my favorite season ... bb4 with jun song like well yes....like yeah i LOVE this season but also like. i have to think about this because i want to open up the possibility of there being a pre-established stobin relationship.
like OKAY clicking from the first day creating a final 2 alliance immediately ... i see it. initially enemies becoming begrudging allies using a final 2 alliance to keep each other loyal becoming genuine friends who honor that final 2 alliance despite knowing it wouldn't help their game. LIKE.... i am Sick to my Stomach. BUT some type of x-factor WOW.
if they go in as exes, i think i could only see them purposely bamboozling producers into thinking they would never work together when they have a shared google drive of strategies for their game or like fuckin... idk i don't strategize u tell me
OKAY BUT maybe a home town high school reunion type theme, where they make sure to include duos that would have been in the same high school at the same time blah blah. so there are two steves that could possibly have applied for big brother.
one steve was encouraged by His Boys (and carol) to try out bc he's athletic AND good at the social game. king steve is in it to win it, but as time goes on, steve harrington's bleeding heart prevents him from being as ruthless as he planned to be.
stobin seeing each other ep 1 and just the most evil glares toward each other, but actually they're nonverbally setting a meeting to discuss their alliance. they don't know it but it's their strongest, longest lasting alliance and the one they are ultimately the most loyal to. thinking jun and jee picking fights to throw people off their scent.... robin and her you suck/you rule board like. YEAH.
i think that in this scenario, steve is more jee in using his physicality to prove his worth to the team and winning comps. and robin is more jun in that she (unfortunately) is not the most liked in the house bc she has smth of a "floater" strat. WHICH not a coasting strat. a floater strat. okay. she is instigating and she is lying and she is scheming.
however also steve being jun with the kitchen strat like YEAH like yes. using cooking as an excuse to stay in the most central part of the house and eavesdrop like well yes. have a neutral reason to always be present for drama and make people not want to eliminate you bc if they do, they lose ur cooking too.
i think that like robin would win in this season, but only because steve didn't make it to the final 2. both of them knew that steve would have jury. like he just played the social game so well that even people he beat and blindsided wanted him to win. like he proved to be loyal while still pushing his game and he was on good terms with everyone in the house. steve threw the last hoh so he would be eliminated esp since he knew that robin would be the obvious winner against the other contestant
the Second steve would be a post-demogorgon or bullshit kind of checked out steve harrington who doesn't have it in him to fight for his crown. maybe he Did apply before the upside down and unlucky enough to have a life altering experience right before appearing on television. or maybe he was just throwing shit at the wall instead of applying for college thinking whatever. face card never declines.
picturing a taylor hale-esque journey where robin hears that King Steve is joining the house. and she has her preconceived opinions about him and obviously it's beneficial to her game to completely undermine a good social player before he even gets a chance to speak. so she starts turning people in the house against him but not in a paloma way me think. less intense, but still just as detrimental to steve's game.
but steve is able to make a couple solid connections in the house, and despite being put on the block, he's not eliminated. the first month in the house is pretty rocky for steve, and he's put on the block nearly Every Single Week. now he starts giving a jag performance and winning comps left and right like. power of veto every week baby and that's why he will Never Be Eliminated. people are beginning to look at steve differently now
they're like okay he's a bit of a free agent, and obviously a strong player. he could be used as a shield, he could be used as a buffer, keeping him could be beneficial to my game. robin is still iffy about him, but she sees his merit.
just like taylor, steve is one to one in convincing people to support him in his game. he appeals to them so effectively that people who were vehemently against him just boom.... appreciate. like robin is not immune to the harrington charm and she's already the worm in his brain
thinking some Big Drama involving steve though and literally daniel's tirade on taylor (which was SO undeserved and like? insane?) yeah.... and then the turn around and calling out of his previous treatment like. YEAH. that's what i want...
robin taking the longest to come around to steve, but being the most ride or die. they're like jag and matt just. ur my minute man baby.... i know i'd have a better chance against this guy but. we made a final 2 alliance and i'm not going to blindside you.
and steve would win in this case. he's just so strong with the jury and really good with comps like okay... was there a q.... robin argued her social game was more refined (it violated constitutional rights or smth)
but yes yes stobin big brother au... of course after the season they become the platonic soulmates they ARE in every universe. and like. people don't expect them to stay friends for so long after, but at some point like. okay now they're a duo. like that's bert and ernie.... acshually the old man muppets who sit in the nosebleeds and criticize the show loudly (was this only a thing in disneyland idk idk)
5 notes · View notes
whoslaurapalmer · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
ignore the fact that the important parts (part one and part two) have absolutely zero cards in them and therefore no planning!!!!! i have STILL actually made progress!!!! ⭐
2 notes · View notes
dihalect · 2 years
Text
just finished death note
Tumblr media
#txt#edit. i don't think i liked the ending#spoilers ahoy. nesting nesting nesting nesting nesting nesting nesting nesting nesting nestiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnng#ok. ngl i was kinda rooting for light for the entire series. OBVIOUSLY murder is bad#but in the context of this work of fiction. the world is so much more interesting with kira#and after everything the world just. goes back to normal? after all that? come on#i understand the point they're making about the futility of everything light did. but that doesn't mean i like it#i would have been much more satisfied if everyone else in the task force/spk had died and light got to keep kira'ing#also. i havent read the manga but i did read about the differences between its ending and the anime's ending.#in the manga light starts groveling and mikami renounces him bc of it. and then light begs ryuk to kill him.#ryuk writes light's name in his death note (full circle) and light panics and spends the next 40 seconds saying he doesn't want to die#in the anime‚ light gets shot‚ but mikami slip'n'slides himself and light runs away.#as he starts to run out of strength‚ ryuk writes his name in the death note (again‚ full circle)#i think having him run away is a bit more pathetic. so it might be more effective at communicating how light is ultimately just some guy#some guy who fucked up and played god and paid for it#BUT him running away removes him from the rest of the story#in a way that i feel detracts from his journey#idk i feel like it'd have been more poetic for him to die there in the warehouse#also. the thing about all the fake notebooks was confusing#apparently the manga has an epilogue where matsuda explains his theory that near controlled mikami with the death note#and that the 'yeah we copied his entire death note down to the molecule overnight' thing was just a lie#idk i feel like that loose end was just. presented to us and never tied up#not quite a loose end. frayed. whatever#EDIT edit. light hallucinated seeing l as the last of the life drained out of him. BITCH
14 notes · View notes
bisexualstruggles · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Murder Ahoy! (1964)
2 notes · View notes
Note
11.) If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?
and
15.) What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?
WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS
11.) If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?
Threaten him with death. If you’re a friend and he immediately flies into defense, it’s not him. He won’t bow his head and accept his fate, but the melancholy peace he’ll show is uniquely his. If it really is a loved one threatening him, he would sooner rationalize and bargain than try to physically counterattack.  It’s unlikely he’d let himself die, but he will be sadly collected when dealing with the threat. This would only really work if he has a strong bond with the person, enough that he thinks their judgment on his continued existence has any merit. 
15.) What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?
Forte lets his guard down when he’s alone. Around people, especially those who see him as the so-called genius maestro, Forte feels immense pressure to keep up the facade. To the world outside, he’s the mysterious artist, the detached gentleman, the charming lover. 
In truth, he's wallowing in his sadness. Forte struggles with his self worth and his darker instincts. Forte doesn’t want anyone to see his truly pathetic state; stripped of all his aristocratic finery, his aging body, drinking and eating until he’s sick, and even occasionally allowing the tears to flow.
2 notes · View notes
laundrybiscuits · 1 year
Text
(Continued from this snippet! Content notes: police interrogation, homophobia)
“You don’t look gay.” The detective gives Steve a very obvious once-over. Steve tries to look gayer as subtly as he can. 
“Sorry,” he says. “Guess I’ll have to let my boyfriend know you don’t think I look gay enough to fuck him.”
The detective’s face twists slightly, like he’s smelled something bad. “No need to be like that. I’m just saying, I bet a good-looking guy like you could get a girlfriend pretty easy.”
“You’re not my type,” says Steve. He smiles with his teeth, even though his heart is going fast and he can feel his palms starting to sweat. 
The detective’s hands tense, and Steve wonders if he’s about to get hit, but they relax again and the detective sits back.
“Just doing my job,” says the detective. “Because, funny enough, we asked around with all your little friends, and it seems like you used to be a bit of a ladies’ man.”
“Things change,” says Steve. 
“In fact…seems like none of your friends ever even saw you talk to Munson before. Moved in different circles and everything. I remember what high school was like.”
The detective leans close. 
“So why would the captain of the swim team, a nice normal boy from a good family with a string of pretty girlfriends, ever—ever—stick his neck out like this for some murdering scum like Munson? That’s what I’m trying to figure out, here.”
“Don’t fucking talk about him like that,” says Steve. His mouth is dry. His pulse is thundering in his ears. “He didn’t kill anyone. He was with me the whole time. He’s—he didn’t kill anyone.”
“Hm,” says the detective. 
It takes a while for them to stop interrogating him. They keep asking him the same questions over and over, trying to trip him up. He asks for water and doesn’t get it. In the back of his mind, a hysterical little voice is shrieking Scoops Ahoy! I work for Scoops Ahoy!, but he manages to keep it locked down. Doesn’t let himself get baited, just keeps repeating that Eddie was with him the whole time and neither of them know anything. 
It takes a while, but it’s over eventually.
When he leaves the station, Eddie’s standing outside with Hopper and Joyce Byers, wearing a shirt and jeans that definitely belonged to Jonathan at some point. Eddie’s got his hands tucked into his armpits, looking antsy and tense, but he’s free and standing on his own two feet. It’s a pretty big upgrade from when Steve last saw him about a week or two ago. 
It’s almost too easy to go straight over to him, wrapping him up in a tight hug like they’ve had their arms around each other a million times. 
“Oof. Easy there, tiger,” laughs Eddie. “I’m, uh, still a little fragile.”
“Sorry,” says Steve, and loosens his hold. He doesn’t let go all the way.
“Come on, boys,” says Joyce. “I’m taking you two home. Steve, Eddie’s been staying with us, but we’re a little short on spare beds and it’s not great for his recovery. We’re moving him to your place until we can figure out something better, okay?” 
———
Joyce drops them off and helps carry in a few garbage bags full of Eddie’s stuff. There’s not that much.
And then the door closes behind her, and Steve’s alone with Eddie for the first time since—actually, maybe ever. 
“So,” says Eddie. “What…the fuck, Harrington.”
“Is that an actual question?” Steve says. He rolls his shoulders, trying to get some of the stiffness out. “I mean, didn’t Hopper and Mrs. Byers explain everything to you?”
“Kind of? I mean, I still think this is probably the worst idea of all time, but they told me—anyway, what I meant just now was a much more personalized and individual what the fuck. As in, why the fuck would you agree to any of this? You know you’re never gonna get another girl in this town to look at you now.”
“Dumping me already? Ice cold, man.”
Eddie groans and actually throws his hands in the air in frustration. Steve hadn’t known people did that in real life. 
“Jesus christ.” Eddie wheels around and grabs two of the garbage bags. “I can’t do this right now, I need to take a fucking nap. We will be discussing this later.”
“Still don’t know what there is to discuss,” says Steve, but he picks up the last garbage bag and leads the way to the spare room. 
Eddie pitches forwards onto the bed, arms outstretched and face mashed into the pillow. “Fuck yes, I am going to marry this goddamn mattress. Hit the lights when you leave,” he says, slightly muffled. 
For a second, Steve finds himself stepping forward with a hand outstretched to—do something. He’s not sure what. Touch Eddie’s hair, or something dumb like that. His face warms. He’s really glad Eddie isn’t looking at him and doesn’t see how he’s kind of just standing there with a hand out for no reason. 
He turns around, flicking the light switch on his way out, and doesn’t look back.
2K notes · View notes
ah0yh0y · 7 months
Text
giving hazel a curse in which she does does not grow past 151cm
19 notes · View notes
loveinhawkins · 8 months
Text
Steve doesn’t think anything of it when he says it.
He’s lying on Robin’s bed, squished between a diverse collection of childhood teddy bears. Robin’s sat opposite him up by the headboard, her feet knocking against his knees; she’s massaging Pond’s cream into her elbows, and the room smells of cocoa butter.
Steve breathes in leisurely.
He thinks back to just a few months ago, when he’d first gotten the job at Scoops Ahoy—when he’d found out that his only co-worker was going to be a Robin Buckley: who the hell is she? he’d thought with a familiar carelessness, an echo from his junior year. Before the monsters. Before…
“Hey, Robin,” Steve begins. The words come slowly, like he’s wandering through the thought. “Do you ever think that, like… that it’s kinda crazy, y’know, how we ended up here?”
Robin pauses in her massaging. She gives him a dry look. “This is a pretty standard Sunday evening for me.”
Steve snorts. “Not like that, dickhead.”
Although maybe it is like that actually.
Maybe it’s about how he now watches Murder, She Wrote in the Buckley’s living room without Robin’s parents batting an eye; how they said he could join them for dinner beforehand, and then he kept showing up earlier and earlier to the point where him and Robin just spend the whole day together, and it’s never awkward, there’s no quips or whatever from her dad about them secretly being together; and maybe it feels sorta like a fairytale in the best way; maybe he feels a little like Laurie except he doesn’t want to propose to Jo.
And maybe it’s that the whole thing is just insane: that the entire goddamn trajectory of his life somehow took this wild turn, has made him land here, of all places, and he doesn’t even mean it in an asshole kind of way.
He means…
“Guess I’m just… just thinking. Like, it all kinda worked out, y’know?” Even as he says it, he knows it’s a risk—because they’ve not talked about Starcourt, not really, they’ve just talked around it, but this hardly counts, right? It’s just a joke, it’s just… “Yeah, I, um, got my head knocked around, but, it, uh, it meant I ended up here, so.”
He wants Robin to laugh—or at least, he thinks he does.
She doesn’t. She just goes very still.
He feels something twist in his gut; she’s got this way of looking at him, like he’s accidentally said more than what he thought he did.
“Steve.”
Robin crawls forward, clumsy and urgent. She grabs hold of his wrist. He feels the grease of body lotion as her thumb moves in tiny circles against his skin.
“That didn’t need to happen,” she says so seriously, and for some reason that’s almost the thing that does it, the thing that almost gets him to break on a slow Sunday evening in October, because whenever his stupid brain brings him back to July, to blood and pain and a deep, unimagineable fear, he tries to remember how it felt: how he laughed through it with Robin in a bathroom stall, and it would almost be enough to soothe the sting, that he could endure it, could endure anything so long as he could have this, please just let me have—
“We could’ve had the most boring summer of our lives,” Robin says, with a smile that’s a little sad, a little wistful, but always kind. “And I still would’ve…”
He hears them again, those words he’s been clinging to.
Listen to me, Steve. It's shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you.
“It just would’ve taken longer,” Robin finishes. Her eyes dart all over his face, and he suspects that he knows part of what she’s seeing: the ghosts of bruises. “Okay?”
For a moment, Steve can’t speak. “Okay.”
Robin shuffles up next to him, sitting right on top of one of her bears—“You’re squishing him,” Steve points out, to which Robin just snorts—and then she’s hugging him, maybe tighter than he’s ever been hugged before.
He lets his head fall forward and breathes.
They break apart eventually. If there’s a wet patch on her shirt, Robin doesn’t point it out—just says there’s cake for dessert, and she doesn’t move back to her spot, so her elbows are practically always in danger of catching Steve in the ribs.
And God, Steve tries to believe it: that he could have all of this without… That he could’ve always had it.
He tries.
894 notes · View notes
nanoland · 6 months
Text
ofmd s2 incoherent rambling ahoy: about THEY THINK HE KILLED BUTTONS wtf wtf wtf O_O
guys i think this might be The Thing that broke the show?
BECAUSE OMG THEY THINK ED KILLED BUTTONS hey remember in s1 when karl the seagull was killed and there was an INSTANT mood shift?
suddenly, after all the slapstick funny pirate shenanigans, the crew had lost a member('s pet).
and there was this TENSION and You Need To Leave Now Mister Calico Jack. it was one of the big 'oh! these people care about each other' moments, and also one of the big 'stede cares about these people!' moments, when we actually saw him behaving like a CAPTAIN for the first time. he takes charge. he recognizes how serious this is. he makes the guy who killed Karl leave. it's one of the best scenes in the show.
AND NOW THE CREW THINKS ED KILLED BUTTONS.
BUTTONS!
THEIR ACTUAL HUMAN CREW MATE.
ED'S BEEN TRYING TO KILL THEM FOR MONTHS AND NOW. NOW HE HAS. BUTTONS IS DEAD.
the INSTANT ed stepped back onto that ship with stede and informed them that buttons turned into a bird and flew away it was so cool guys :), Jim should have jumped on him and stabbed him 70 times.
they make this whole huge deal out of 'here's this group of shellshocked people who just narrowly survived ed's abuse and all-but-murdered him in revenge'. how could their reaction to his FINALLY SUCCESSFULLY KILLING A CREW MATE be anything less than brutal?
and instead, they're just kinda..... annoyed. not happy about it. lucius flips him off. meh.
it's a really bad mistake, writing-wise, because it makes it feel like these people don't care much about each other. is it surprising they don't really mourn izzy when they didn't really mourn buttons?
(also it undermines stede, like a lot, because his whole arc in s1 was going from 'clueless newbie boss who treats his employees like toys' to 'loyal if somewhat inept captain who cares deeply about his crew'. there's a reason s1 ended on stede rescuing his crew. his character growth rested on how he learned to treat them better. and in s2, it feels like their well-being matters waaaay less to him than Ed's. which sucks!)
393 notes · View notes
klausinamarink · 5 months
Text
Sleep After You’re Fixed Up
rating: T | cw: Steve’s post-Russian torture, blood, injury cleaning | tags: pre-s4 Steddie, hurt/comfort, home-done medical treatment, the boys getting some rest and being little vulnerable together | wc: 753
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 12: Only one bed
“Easy, easy!” Eddie hisses, desperately trying to keep his balance steady. But it’s a difficult task when he’s holding a definitely-concussed Steve under the armpits, who keeps leaning over to the opposite side and narrowly misses bumping his head on the wall.
“Goddamn…” Eddie huffs and pulls up Steve again. The other man manages to be on his two feet, but just long enough for Eddie to drag him inside the bathroom before he collapses on the ground. Eddie’s quick to cover Steve’s head from hitting any corners but Steve mainly leans against the bathtub, groaning.
For a moment, Eddie just stares down at the sight on his feet. Steve Harrington (his.. friend with benefits? Kissing support partner? Their relationship is too new to be really boyfriends) in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, beaten black and blue in the face, and drooling more blood than spit. Eddie still can’t understand how the hell he’d shown up at his front door if Steve’s current walking abilities barely passed a skills check.
Steve’s eyes are already closing shut and shit. There’s a medical rule that beat-up people can’t sleep right after injury, right? Eddie snaps his fingers in front of Steve’s face, making his good eye snap open. “Hey, Harrington, Steve. Eyes open, okay?”
Steve gives a long groan as Eddie scrambles to get the first-aid kit out of the cabinet.
He tries to keep his hands as still as possible as he carefully cleans off the blood and stitches the cut on Steve’s lip. Steve squeezes his eyes shut the whole time and barely lets a whimper out. But Eddie sees the way Steve’s hands clench onto his shorts and how his right foot twitches back.
Eddie attempts to swallow down the urge to get outside and just murder the bastard who hurt Steve like this.
After he’s done, Eddie helps Steve up and leads him to his bedroom. Part of him demands to drive Steve to the hospital and get him actual medical attention. But Eddie remembers the sober fear in Steve’s face as he had repeatedly whispered, “No hospitals.” And being the promise-keeper he’s apparently become, Eddie sighs to himself in resignation.
Steve almost falls face-first onto the bed but Eddie catches him and, very gently, lays him down on the side. Pretty soon, Steve’s snuggled in the blankets, a towel on the pillow in case the cut would stain the sheets. It’s after this that Eddie realizes his bed is, well, taken. It’s still a big mattress but Eddie’s not ready to sleep besides an injured man, let alone shoving his back to the wall just for extra space.
Resigning to a night on the couch, Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s matted hair as a goodnight, turning to leave. Only to be stopped by a hand suddenly clutching on his wrist.
Eddie looks back to see Steve staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Please, stay?” He asks in a hushed voice and winces.
Eddie almost says no. That they’re still strangers that it’s almost awkward to even lay next to each other in bed. But Steve’s eyes seem close to tears, which burns Eddie more than the hand on his wrist. Finally he nods, “Sure, man.”
After a quick change to sleepwear and turning off the lights, Eddie carefully shuffles next to Steve. They’re pressing close enough that Eddie feels Steve’s heartbeat from his arm. They both whistle out air from their noses, slowly breathing in sync. Eddie finally turns his head and looks back at Steve, who gazes back with drooping eyes.
“Okay?” It’s a dumb question with how obviously not okay Steve is. But in the darkness and brief slivers of moonlight, Steve gives a tiny smile and moves an arm so it rests on Eddie’s chest.
“Yeah. Now I am.” Eddie doesn’t really believe it, he can still feel Steve’s heart as it quickens. Without thinking, Eddie starts circling his thumb around on Steve’s palm at a leisure’s pace. Steve hitches in a breath before he lets it out slowly as if trying not to cry. He snuffles an inch closer so his head is closer to Eddie’s.
Eddie thinks in saying something but Steve’s already asleep, small huffs of rhythmic breaths out of his lips.
Part of him wants to slip out and get on the couch for tonight. But Eddie feels more warm and comfortable than he had in ages. Plus he doesn’t want Steve to leave his sight and get hurt ever again.
253 notes · View notes