LIFE OF THE PARTY.

last transmission from the island radio; wilson cruz wilco navarro. 2wenty5. (get lit.)

[nahwilco-blog]

so much to do.  so much to see.

smash mouth was right all along.

[nahwilco-blog]

brysoncane:

I’m missing the part where I’m supposed to care.

I guess you don’t HAVE to care.  i mean.  trip’s a total summer bummer anyway.  sure there’ll be a big burly dude (or chick) in a semi at the next truck stop who’ll be happy to give u a lift.

[nahwilco-blog]

peterbeach:

Peter’s eyes followed the quick movement of Wilco’s hand as it rocketed towards his heart. Ah, he must have been startled by the sound of Peter’s voice. He couldn’t help but smirk ever so slightly. It was a little funny after all, but he diverted his eyes to the ground briefly so Wilco wouldn’t think that he was being laughed at. 

                                                                     —- Of course, he was being laughed at, but there was no malicious intent behind it. —-

What are you doing sitting out here? Ohhhh…. y’know, just some ridiculously dramatic existential thinking. Nothing new! He wasn’t going to tell Wilco that, though, so he settled with something far more safe. 

“Just havin’ a smoke.” He replied, quickly pulling his cigarettes from his pockets. He pulled two out and passed one over towards Wilco, “Here ya’ go.” Without further ado, Peter brought his cigarette to his mouth and ignited it with his lighter one second after. He passed that towards his friend a moment later before turning his head slightly, “What about you? What brings you out to the dark and scary parking lot at this hour?”

It felt like time hadn’t passed.  Was that weird?  Not, like, time hadn’t passed in the last few minutes or whatever, but like time hadn’t passed period.

What it felt like was something more along the lines of… You could point to any spot on a timeline, and this specific situation could be happening right here and right now.  Peter Beach and Wilco Navarro, sitting in the dark, in some dimly lit parking lot, sharing cigarettes.

(Partly because, you know, this was totally how some part of every party they attended together in high school went, but still.  It was nice to see that kind of familiarity didn’t necessarily go away.  It was nice to see that some things didn’t change even when the rest of the world seemed like it was fuckin’ imploding in on itself.  There was still Petey.  In a parking lot.  With a cigarette.  And that felt good.  Even in all this.)

Peter asked what he was doing out at this hour, and of all the people on this, like, whole trip pretty much, he was pretty sure that Peter would be the least likely to wig out over Wilco’s explanation of trying to find the cocaine that he just couldn’t place.

But, like… let’s calm down for a second, edgelord.  Let’s not get that deep.

“Just, y’know.  On the prowl for some serial killers.  Seeing what lurks in the depths of New Orleans,” Wilco opted for a teasing tone instead.  “You never know.  Buzzfeed Unsolved has done, like, three thousand episodes in New Orleans for a reason.”  He peeked behind himself at the hotel.  “Totally should have made them pick a haunted place for us to stay at.  Way more fun that way.”

[nahwilco-blog]

peteybeaches: i'm fuckinghigh

nahwilco: [RETWEET]

[nahwilco-blog]

text ✉ GINNY ⇆ WILCO

GINNY: I'm going to resist the urge to correct your grammar right now.

GINNY: I wanted to grab dinner, but I don't really feel comfortable going alone.

WILCO: tbh there's rly no point in doing that i mean GO FOR IT but

WILCO: it'll just keep happening so 😬

WILCO: bruh.

WILCO: pancakes.

WILCO: sound so good

WILCO: like shitty waffle house pancakes with a side of "i could get murdered right here in this diner"

WILCO: 🗣 LET'S GO

[ginnypipes-deactivated20180215]

costco & ginger ale, a moodboard. 

GINNY: Toss me my keys!

[An entire printer crashes to the ground and breaks into 1000 pieces.]

GINNY: I said my keys.

WILCO: I thought you said printer!

GINNY: Why the fuck would I say printer?

[nahwilco-blog]

text ✉ GINNY ⇆ WILCO

GINNY: Hey. This is kind of awkward, but could you help me with something?

GINNY: There's a shiny new penny in it for you.

WILCO: i love shiny new ginny pennies 😙

WILCO: where's the body what r we burying do i need a shovel we passed a home depot earlier

[nahwilco-blog]

brysoncane:

Figuring out how to get home

is fucking expensive and my parents won’t help. So that’s cool.

holddddddup hold up hold up

you’re trying to get HOME?!

B.C. WE JUST STARTED.

[nahwilco-blog]

peterbeach:

For the most part, Peter had been fairly quiet on this trip. Being around all of his old friends triggered an anxiety deep inside of him and he had found it difficult to be vocal over the past few days. He’d had a good time, he supposed. He’d enjoyed being in Lua’s car and had had fun since they’d left Shallow Creek. Still, he knew he wasn’t participating in the road trip the way that Olive must have wanted. She had always, since the moment they’d met, encouraged Peter to break out of his shell. She would want him to be social and outgoing, as much as he could be, anyways. 

He sighed and looked up at the night sky, his eyes darting between the different stars. He was failing miserably. After all, here he was, sitting outside next to Lua’s parked car alone, rather than spending time with the people he used to cherish the most. 

Peter was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of movement to his left. He tilted his head and peered around the side of the car, “Hello?”

This trip was weird.  That was probably an understatement.  Shit was definitely beyond weird, though.  There was something unnerving (or a lot of things, rather) about going on a road trip with a bunch of people you hadn’t seen or talked to in a billion years — basically — and trying to act like shit was totally fine when you all knew it really wasn’t.  Especially when, like…

Let’s just face it.  Wilco was never gonna feel like he belonged on this trip.  He was never going to feel like he was supposed to be a piece in this puzzle.

He kept it up pretty well for the most part, he liked to think.  He kept his big, stupid smile on, and he razzed his friends when they needed someone to joke around with.  He was always there to rattle off stupid stories to pass time on the road and he kept things interesting (he liked to think, at least), but when he was left alone with his thoughts for too long, that was when shit got a little… dark, or whatever.  And so...  Maybe he just needed some air.

Which was what he was aiming for when he headed out into the night, stepping out of the hotel and across the parking lot, heading past Shea’s car and right past Lua’s.

Right past it, and then… stopping at it.

Had he left his… stuff in Lua’s car?  It wasn’t in his room.  Was it in his other bag?  How much shit had he brought with him?   God.  This really wasn’t what most people considered “clearing their head.”  He could hear all the annoying birds chirping in his ear, telling him that there were “other options” out there.

Whatever moral dilemma he was getting himself caught up in was quickly brought to a grinding halt by the voice in the darkness that sent him jolting backwards for a second — only for a second, mind you, because Wilco Navarro is not a freaking coward.

It was Peter.

“Oh, shit.  Hey Petey,” Wilco breathed out, hand to his chest but certainly not because his heart had, like, sped up or anything like that.  That’s not what had happened here.  “What are you doing sitting out here?  He peered around, half-expecting to see Shea or Teddy or someone else sitting by him.  But, they weren’t.  “Alone?”

[nahwilco-blog]

@peteybeaches: whats going on tittieboiz

@nahwilco: damn @peteybeaches! back at it again with the #relatabletweets

[biochemicalreactions]

Visit Original Link

[nahwilco-blog]

INSTAGRAM: nahwilco just shared a post.

you left some holes in the plot line.  i left some holes in your clothes.

#aestheticallyhungover

539 LIKES, 8 COMMENTS

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[jakeyjohnson]

[ginnypipes-deactivated20180215]

of all the gin(ny) joints in all the world.

tagging: @ginnypipes & @nahwilco. location: the eagle eye, shallow creek, ga time/date: 7:00 pm, friday 7/28  summary: ginny and wilco have an awkward run in when ginny attempts (and fails) at a tinder date. 

Keep reading

[nahwilco-blog]

ginnypipes:

Wilco did make a good point, for probably the first time in his life. Olive’s death was preventable. If she’d stuck with them, put up with the cold shoulder and the weirdness, she could have been there that night. She could have prevented the texting and drunken driving and all of that. She owed it to Olive to keep the rest of them alive. It was only one road trip, anyway. 

Besides, what the hell else was she doing with her summer? 

“Fine. I’ll go. But only because my conscience can’t handle the extreme possibility of you guys getting into some major trouble without a babysitter here to watch you.” She reached in her backpack and pulled out her headphones, already prepared to tune out for the entire ride down to St. Augustine. “Which car are you not riding in?” 

One thing was for certain, and that one thing was that Wilco was pretty much spot-freaking-on when he made the claim about Ginny Piper hating his guts.  Because she totally did.  She totally had since, like, seventh grade, probably, but that hadn’t changed!

Not that he expected that to change, or really thought it deserved to change or anything, but just… let the record show that it hadn’t changed.

“You’ll go?” he really couldn’t deny the fact that his face actually fucking brightened up at the realization that she wasn’t bailing on the trip over his attendance.

He held up his hands in defense a second later, shrugging off her concerns.  “You’re really just making all my babysitter fantasies come true here, Little G,” he teased, shooting her a wink and a crooked grin that she definitely wasn’t returning.  Yeah.  Okay.  Yikes.

His cheeks puffed out and deflated, scratching behind his neck a little sheepishly and nodding over toward Lua’s Range Rover.  “I’ve got shotgun with Lu.  So I guess that puts you with Shea?  And, like, the dog, so… lucky, obviously.  But also, you’re missing out on me, so… Not super lucky.  All depends on how you look at it.”

[nahwilco-blog]

separate the coward & the curse

[nahwilco-blog]

tagging: @sydneygrover & @nahwilco location: harry a’s restaurant and bar; st. george island, florida. time/date: sunday, ~3pm. summary: wilco?  already drinking at 3pm?  on a sunday?  it’s more likely than you think.

SYD

Things had happened between Wilco and Syd back in high school but not the kind of things that had happened between Wilco and Lua. Syd made sure of that.

Not out of some friend code need to hold out on hooking up with the same person. If anything, it seemed like Lua put the brakes on once she noticed how intently Syd listened to all the details of Luco sleeping together. There was normal curiosity and, like, crossing the line to desperately needs to know status.

Syd wanted to be with Wilco like that. Of course they did. It just didn’t seem possible for someone who didn’t even like to be caught without a shirt at the beach.  For the longest time, Syd didn’t want to accept what that meant and maybe how close the two of them came to something happening before they lost Olive factored into the disappearing act.

How could they face Wilco at the funeral after freaking out the way they did?

It was so fucking embarrassing to think about now and thank goodness Wilco wasn’t the type to insist on dealing with old business right outta the gate. (Or, ya know, ever.)

Wilco never made anything a big deal when they were growing up while Sydney had this habit of making everything into a huge crisis. This difference might’ve ripped other people apart but it always seemed to have the exact opposite effect. A classic case of opposites attract.

At least until Syd ran away.

And now they were back. Back to wishing they knew what to say and when to say it. Back to feeling like they’d totally blow it if they ever got the chance to do the things they wanted most. Back to feeling like they were drowning in self-loathing and it wasn’t fair to put Wilco in the path of rising water.

“I’m pretty sure time is real,” Syd argued, glancing toward the bar and then back at Wilco’s hands. It was easier than making eye contact, easier than falling apart too soon. “Unless it’s not and that’s why y’all don’t hate me for being lost in it for so long.”

They swallowed hard and, against all attempts at better judgement, motioned for the bartender to bring over another round of whatever Wilco was drinking. He could practically see Lua’s pouty bottom lip if she knew they were off knocking back booze without her at such a ridiculous hour.

“I feel like I’m not cut out for a dog either but dogs are better than people.” Sydney finally lifted his eyes to look over Wilco’s face, heart beating much too fast in their chest. “I feel like I miss her more than I ever have and like I don’t know how to talk to anyone half the time. I feel like I don’t even really deserve to be here.”

Shoulders lifted and lowered slowly but the tension didn’t leave their body. “But I’m not really great at feeling like I belong anywhere so that’s nobody’s fault.”

WILCO

The whole drive from Georgia to the panhandle of Florida, Wilco had stayed rightfully in the shotgun of Lua’s front seat, fiddling with the stereo and trying his hardest to not make too much eye contact.  Not that he was all that concerned with Auggie or Peter being in the car or anything, but Sydney.  Syd was there, right there, and Wilco could feel their eyes on him.

And the thing was, Wilco didn’t deserve that.  He really didn’t deserve to have Syd’s eyes on him, because Wilco didn’t deserve much of anything.

Yeah.  He got it.  He really needed to just shut up at this point, didn’t he?

He was good at playing it up for Lua’s camera, acting like he was hot as fuck (because he was?) and totally chill with everything (which he… really wished he was).  He kissed her hand and teased her the way he used to in high school, the way that always looked like they were, like, three steps away from making out, considering half the time they totally were.

Until they weren’t.  The brakes started to be pulled and the two started to pull back from each other.  The last time they’d really been together was the night after Olive’s funeral, when there were too many emotions flowing from too many directions to even be able to see straight.

And Syd, by that point, was already gone.

Syd had already left, already taken off.  They hadn’t said anything.  They’d just… they’d been gone.  And Wilco had never known if he was allowed to be angry about that.  He wasn’t, right?

They weren’t dating.  Syd wasn’t his.  Syd didn’t owe Wilco anything.  But it hurt.  It hurt when they left.

It was hard to think about anymore, though, when Sydney was sitting in front of him and telling Wilco about all the reasons that they didn’t think they deserved to be there in the first place.

“That’s bullshit,” Wilco observed flatly, taking a final swig from his drink.  “Everybody would rather have you here than me.”  He waited a second before he was continuing, clarifying and correcting himself.  “You deserve be here more than me.  You… you were her best friend, Syd.  Besides, like, Teddy or whatever, but they’ve been friends since diapers or some shit.  But other than that?  It was you  Of course you deserve to be here.”

He nearly bit a hole in his bottom lip.  “But… I…”

Nope.  No.  He didn’t want to get into that night.  He didn’t want to get into that accident.  He didn’t want to get into what he’d done.  He didn’t want to remind Syd why they should hate him.

“Nobody could ever hate you, though, you know,” he added on a few seconds later, speaking quietly.  “I tried, so.”  He shouldn’t have said that.  “I mean.  I tried to hate a lot of things.  Myself, mostly, but… sometimes you.  It never really worked.”

He allowed a familiar smirk to curve up on his lips, reaching over and pinching at Syd’s cheek just for a second, playfully, before he was pulling back with the fear that he had definitely crossed a line he was pretty sure he wasn’t ready to be crossing just yet.  “Must be that face of yours.”

Another drink was sat down in front of him — one sat in front of Syd, as well — and Wilco reached for it.  “I miss her, too,” he said quietly, so quiet that maybe he hoped Sydney didn’t even hear him.

And then he took another drink.

[nahwilco-blog]

ginnypipes:

“Please, with you guys gone I can maybe get some peace in Shallow Creek this summer,” Ginny replied. She was partially joking, but her tone came off harsher than she intended. Ginny was never great with tact. Or kindness. “Besides, I’d just bring down the fun. This is supposed to be a celebration of Olive’s life, or whatever. You all know I’m not really one for the partying.” 

Truthfully, Ginny was worried about just how much fun they were all planning on having. Wilco… well, his impulse control hadn’t seemed to have improved much since graduation, and the rest of the crowd weren’t exactly the poster children for road safety. Hell, judging by his totally-not-conspicuous style of dress, Wilco was hungover at this very moment. Ginny almost felt obligated to join just to mitigate the risk of any more… accidents. 

Almost. 

Wilco shot Ginny a look of disbelief, head tilted to the side and mouth slightly ajar.  

“Pipes, come on,” he responded.  “You can’t just not go because you’re the Fun Police.  That’s not how it works.  You have to keep us from going to jail or something.  ‘cause I’m pretty sure Olive’s convinced I’m gonna get people sent to the slammer or some shit, and that’s not gonna happen — but you’re gonna make sure it doesn’t happen!”

Wilco wasn’t entirely convinced that Ginny didn’t completely and totally hate his guts, but ever the same, he needed to, like… make sure he wasn’t the reason she didn’t want to come.  He was already worried enough as it was that everybody wanted to avoid him like the plague, and he’d been trying to get on Ginny Piper’s good side literally since high school.  He had to break ground on that whole thing sooner or later, right?

“Please?”

He jutted his bottom lip out in a pout.

The pout ALWAYS worked.