hi im cube @osddcarisi - Tumblr Blog

Choose the beef.

#peter stop denying urself good things 😩

“I haven’t slept in ages.” And starisi please

Peter looks like shit when he answers the door for Sonny four days into his personal leave. His hair is greasy and sloppy, his eyes have dark bags beneath them, there’s alcohol on his breath, and his clothes are wrinkled and stained. And there’s a pain in his face, heavy and real and immutable even after days of trying to drink away watching his sister die in his arms.

“No offence, man, but you look like shit.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. Haven’t slept in ages.”

He steps to the side and lets Sonny in. Liquor bottles are strewn over every single available surface, some in sticky spilled puddles where they’ve spilled out the last dregs, and there’s a stale smell like sweat and stuffy air and vomit. The last probably because of the trashcan full of it next to the couch, where a rumpled blanket is strewn across the cushions.

“I know everyone grieves differently, but seriously, this isn’t healthy.”

“Neither was prosecuting even when everyone warned me and I lost my sister over it.”

As Sonny watches, Peter sweeps a gaggle of beer bottles off the lone chair at the dining room and gestures for Sonny to sit. He shakes his head, not willing to chance one of his few nice suits being ruined by the questionable stains.

“How about, uh, you go take a shower, brush your teeth, put on some clean clothes. I’ll clean this place up a little. And then maybe you can come crash on my couch for a few days. It’s easier to deal with death when you’re not alone.”

For a moment, Peter actually seems to consider it, but then he shakes his head and reaches for a half empty bottle of cheap vodka.

#oh peter #been there done that my friend #but. oh Peter.

cupidmarwani-archive

“How drunk was I?” with Starisi please

Peter is used to waking up, hungover, in a stranger’s bed, with little to no memory of the night before. But most of the time, he wakes up to a woman beside him, or two, once three. And he never sees them again. But this is bad, he realizes, even despite his pounding headache and the cotton taste in his mouth.

Curled up in bed with him, face nestled against Peter’s chest, legs tangled together, is SVU detective Sonny Carisi.

The thing is, Peter is straight. Like, really straight. Growing up maybe he thought about men a couple of times, but he’s still not into them at all. He likes women. But here he is, very naked, in bed with an also very naked man. And there are all these little red and purple marks all over Sonny’s neck and chest, and the sheets beneath them definitely saw something that has them sticky and a little stiff.

“How drunk was I?” Peter whispers.

He doesn’t expect a response, or the wash of warmth in his cheeks that makes him want to brush the hair out of Sonny’s face and make him breakfast. But instead, he carefully extricates himself from bed, gathers his clothes, and stumbles out of the apartment.

#he really do be like that huh

sofuckingchuffed

Make me choose

↳ Anonymous asked: Barisi or Starisi

#this person picking starisi over barisi is so controversial and yet so true

sofuckingchuffed

LAW AND ORDER SVU MEME

↳ Six Relationships - Peter Stone and Sonny Carisi [3/6]

#i will now yearn

bullet-prooflove

Safe Haven - Mike Dodds, William Dodds

Of all he places he could have ended up Mike wasn’t sure how he’d managed to drive all the way to his Dad’s house. He understood the logic; his father’s home was a safe haven, a place of comfort for him.

The rain was pattering on the windows as he hunched in the SUV, hands clenching the steering wheel despite the fact he’d turned the engine off over fifteen minutes ago. He knew he’d done the right thing, he reassured himself.

All the pressure had been building up inside him for over a year and a half now and finally he’d had the chance to speak his mind. He wasn’t sure what he’d been more afraid of, her leaving or him not being strong enough to leave her.

It had taken a long time for him to figure out his wife wasn’t putting in a hundred percent into their marriage. He couldn’t believe how he didn’t see it, but now he was more than willing to admit that the relationship had been almost completely one sided from the very onset.

He still loved her and deep down he knew he would always love her, but he couldn’t be with her. They couldn’t co-exist together anymore because the partnership had evaporated. The best thing he could do would be to let her go; he hated the fact he hadn’t realized how trapped she felt by the confines of marriage and if he was honest he wasn’t sure he’d have cared even if he had.

Taming her had been a challenge, something that he’d had to work for and he knew that was part of the attraction. All the women before her had come easy and even if they hadn’t he’d decided they weren’t worth his time. She had been different, there had been something so alluring about her despite the fact they had tried to stay friends.

He would miss her, he concluded. He’d miss everything about her, her silky skin, the way her eyes shone when she laughed, the way her fingers combed through his hair absentmindedly sometimes when they were watching TV. But he knew this was for the best.

He couldn’t live with her, knowing that she, they even, were unhappy.

Mike took a deep breath before opening the car door and stepping out, pulling the hold all behind him. The weight of the world seemed to rest on his shoulders.

By the time he’d made it to his father’s door he was soaked through, the rain streaming down upon him before he ducked into the porch. He could feel it dripping down his face as he pounded twice on the door. It was late but his father was a night owl, he’d be up, watching the highlights of the game or reading a book.

The light flicked on in the hallway, Mike felt his heart quicken as the oak door opened and he found himself staring into a matching set of bright blue eyes.

William was overshadowing the doorway, reading glasses in one hand, holding them by his mouth and an Ernest Hemingway book in the other.

“Mikey?” he said surprised, taking in his son’s withdrawn expression.

“I think it’s over Dad,” Mike replied hoarsely, answering his father’s unspoken question.

“Let’s talk inside,” the older man murmured, holding the door open for his oldest son as he stepped inside.

#oh this is sweet :(