salted wounds

the faith and the fighter. [bellamy charter]. ares. thirty. veteran and philanthropist. 

[shelvedsaints]

ABOUT BELLAMY || The faith and the fighter lighting up the streets singing for the damned. 

CHARACTER BASICS

NAME: Bellamy Charter

AGE: Twenty-Seven

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Man, He/Him

FACE CLAIM: Tom Holland

EYE COLOR: Brown

HAIR COLOR: Dark Brown

HEIGHT: 5′8″

DATE OF BIRTH: April 8th

ZODIAC SIGN: Aries

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: High School Diploma

OCCUPATION: Philanthropist/ Foundation Entity for Resources for U.S. Veterans

DEITY COUNTERPART: Ares, Greek God of War & Courage

ABILITIES/POWERS: Communication with serpent like creatures such as lizards and snakes, resistance abilities such as prolonged homeostasis when the body is under attack, proficiency in self defense and offensive tactics that come from the reflexes of the body, significant strength/balance/stamina/durability as body does not produce fatigue toxins and allows for maximum use of abilities, mental manipulation based on altering levels of adrenaline/cortisol/epinephrine/norepinephrine which aids in starting and resolving conflict as well as fear implementation

NEIGHBROHOOD: Hesperides Villas

CHARACTER HISTORY (TW: WAR, TORTURE, PTSD)

Bellamy’s early life seems like a lull when he looks back on it, but to everyone else, it’s been a house fire that’s never gone out. The Charters were never meant to last, let alone stay together. They were drifting through life, just barely making it with a smile on their face under the rotting roof of the place they called home. There wasn’t much that stuck about the family, as they lived in a corner of the world where everyone’s back was turned trying to climb their own ladder to make it out alive, but there are some details that can recalled. Bellamy was the spark that ignited a fight, but if it weren’t for him, the Charters would have never moved along.

Bellamy enlisted in the army soon as he got the chance. He went as far as acquiring his parent’s signature in order to devote himself at just seventeen. He’d been surviving his whole life, but there was a quiet to it all that made the fight far from worth his while. He wanted a purpose, not just chaos found in the pocket of an adolescent’s rebellion, but something with intention that came with a goal. His parents let him go as one less mouth to feed was a victory on their end.

At twenty-five, Bellamy had served nearly ten tours with a devotion that some had to admire despite his sharp tongue and attitude that stung just as much as it burned. But there was a leader within him that no one could deny, and his superiors recognized it and learned to give him the quiet he needed in order to instill a brotherhood amongst men. Soldiers seemed to give into all of his antics, whether it was in action or on base when Bellamy knew no better than to instigate a battle of wits and cracked fists. However, bloody grins grew sinister as the wounds healed ugly and there was a trail of violence behind him that he failed to acknowledge. Just a week into his tour, Bellamy and his squad were captured by enemy troops. It took months for them to be rescued, but efforts weren’t successful in the way anyone hoped. If not forced to find the white light at the end of a tunnel, these men had to will the others to find in order to shield their eyes in that search. They were pit against each other as a means of survival, with some breaking as a result. Brothers fought brothers. Bellamy had given up on efforts to the stripes he swore his allegiance to, and gave into the crimson gaze he was encouraged to shy away from as he was promised their torment would end soon. He coaxed his captors into a trust that they believed they held the string to, but it was Bellamy slowly fraying his end until he would let that same fire that rested deep in his belly to climb up the thread of their feigned confidence and burn them to ash. He took what was left of his squad, and fled into the inhabited plains of where they had been deployed where they were eventually rescued. Those men, however, had found solace in their endurance of the circumstances they were told they would be salvaged from. They became their own heroes, even if Bellamy had pushed them to the brink of death in a collective effort to still find a chance to live. 

Many of the members of his squad were discharged, but Bellamy continued. He worked where he could until his contract died out. Something in him changed that day, though, and it was as if he no longer had to chase the anger of others in order to keep himself warm.

When he returned from the service, he found it difficult to return to mundane life. Bellamy found himself useless and sulking and he found transition less than rewarding. This wasn’t a victory, but a punishment. Many fellow veterans felt the same, and it wasn’t until he was returned to the lull he escaped from his childhood that every terrible thing from war crept into his dreams. Nightmares started as reminders of what he was spared of, but they intrigued him at first. He craved the duel of his dreamscapes until they crept over him when his eyes were opened. It was terrors he hadn’t endured, ones he didn’t know the outcome of and let alone how to fight. Ares had been woken, but he wasn’t pleased. He craved the comfort of the constant envelope of adrenaline that kept him dormant, and in turn for his human body’s resistance, he tormented it. Bellamy was plagued with the traumas of not just his own lifetime’s endurance, but thousands of others. What was no more than quips on his tongue had sharpened, a sinister influence coming over him and everything he strived for being put into action with a steady aim.

PRESENT DAY

Bellamy took the hands he shook at ceremonies, funerals, and deployments and twisted them behind the backs of those they belonged to. He buried he knife meant for his back into theirs, manipulating them by any means necessary to get the funds needed to help aid men like him who met another battle coming home after the war. He was able to not only gather money, but pave his own path to gaining more than just checks but building a foundation for veterans. However, not all of the money he’s collected has been handed over through a threat. He’s engaged ways of manipulating others by dangling what they want, going against what is deemed right through the silver lining of morals and instead serving what he believes is the winning side, which is any means necessary to serve his cause for those left behind after giving it their all to the fight. He’s smuggled weapons, supplies, and whatever else gets him the means of one golden handshake that makes it easier to get what he needs. 

He’s created a new man of himself, one that doesn’t linger in fraying threads and sweat bound shirts from sleepless nights. Bellamy is a socialite that seems to have found his place overnight, and the world is aware of it. From being a guest in the homes of many important figures on Magnetic Island, to now owning one of the most lucrative properties looking over the water, he’s a force to be reckoned with. He’s be a million dollar play boy had Bellamy’s intention not been to play, but simply to conquer for his own needs.

He has a reputation for quite literally crashing events for those sent to the top of the hierarchy but what’s in their pockets rather than what’s in their heads. He starts a fight, but resolves it, because every time he gets booted out he finds his way back in with his arm around someone’s waist or their shoulders in a truce. 

HEADCANONS (TW: EATING DISORDER, TORMENT, SCARS)

It’s quite possible that Bellamy has yet to tap into more potential of the deity that rolls restlessly in his body because of the lack of confidence he has. Don’t be fooled by those bloodied fists and laughter lines. He’s confident in his strategy, but not why. Bellamy’s struggled with an eating disorder most of his life as a means of pushing himself through survival. There’s a fixation on how far he can push his body and its endurance to whatever he can instill upon it. On that brink of survival, when he pushes too far, he swears he finds a power but that’s hardly it. It’s a threat to his human vessel, and therefore a threat to the deity within him. It’s an internal war, but there’s never a victory. It’s a loss that drives him to start all over, a sickness that if he isn’t careful, even gilded mortality will eventually give out. Over the years, it’s been reinforced by battle tactics but without those threats, there is no danger but himself. It’s evolved into a fight against more than just what if I’m alone and I’m stranded, what if I’m tortured, what if I’m without what I need to a fight he’s never been prepared for. He lingers in the world where beauty seems to be the most important weapon, and it’s something that can’t be won the way wars are.

He is covered in scars from his service, and especially his capture. Most of them are on his back and torso, with some visible on his shoulder and one just along the left side of his jaw.

Bellamy has a few tattoos. On his shoulder, he has a large snake that wraps around from the lower part of the right side of his torso around his shoulders to his left shoulder and bicep as a life size snake. On his lower back, there is a vulture that spreads up to the middle of his back with three swords in its mouth that aligns with his spine. The hilts of the swords come right between his shoulder blades. The vulture’s throat, however, has the end of the snake coiled around it. His left wrist has another smaller snake whose head comes right over his right thumb.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

People he has helped through his ways of manipulation

People he spars with at the gym

Anyone he’s gotten into a fight with at public events and resolved it

Hook ups, and exes that ended badly or well

Someone who he’s blackmailing

Any fellow veterans

Unlikely friends

[tomhollandnet]

#when you find yourself in an elevator with your aunt and four highly volatile villains from alternate universes

[shelvedsaints]

open to: matthew bennet | @deathsrites location: downtown, some random little shop

When Bellamy steps into the room, his adrenaline stops. The familiar roar behind his ears falls silent and it stuns him in his tracks. For a moment, it holds him down. The absence falls over him like a wave and he has to remind himself to breathe. All he can think of is not the calm before a storm or the eye of some natural disaster, but the stillness of nothing left to ruin–– death, where peace is only possible because all is void. It doesn’t send panic through him this time, but rather a sense of familiarity that he welcomes. It’s attributed to something far from Bellamy’s past, but rather his essence.

“Matthew!” He calls out as soon as he sees the man break through the quiet at the end of the aisle. The silence isn’t broken, but it seems to fall into place. “Hey, how long’s it been?”

[dispensingdues]

A NEW SPRING - closed @shelvedsaints​

         she  popped  the  spiked  cherry  in  her  mouth  and  pulled  the  fruit  from  the  stem.  her  teeth  bit  down  until  they  hit  stone.  with  the  sweet  juice  hitting  her  tongue,  dora  expertly  excavated  around  the  seed  for  what  was  edible  and  gently  spit  it  into  the  fingers  resting  on  her  lips.  moving  the  remnant  from  there  to  a  napkin  on  the  table,  she  rolled  it  around  slowly  and  watched  as  the  remaining  liquid  blotted  the  white  pink,  then  red.  it  reminded  her  of  blood  on  a  bandage.

          her  dominant  hand  reached  for  her  foamy  cocktail  so  she  could  have  a  sip.  after  an  eventful  day,  she  had  been  rather  looking  forward  to  her  night  out  with  bellamy.  this  was  a  regular  thing  for  the  duo.  even  so,  tonight  felt  special.  something  was  electric  in  the  air.  she  valued  their  friendship  for  several  reasons  but  one  of  the  highlights  –  for  her  at  least  –  was  that  he  saw  straight  through  to  her  'negative’  traits  and  valued  them.  dora  had  a  gift  for  manipulating.  she  didn’t  change  faces  so  much  as  she  made  others  take  a  different  view  and  see  another  angle  of  the  one  she  already  had.  she  made  her  audience  pliable  and,  most  importantly,  persuaded.  bellamy  put  this  to  use  for  all  it  was  worth.  this  evening  she  felt  more  seen  by  him  and  more  capable  than  ever  before.  she  felt  charged.

          the  day  had  allowed  her  to  learn  the  switching  on  (and  off)  of  her  abilities.  if  she  hadn’t  worked  it  out,  she  probably  would  have  rain  checked  on  this  whole  event.  bellamy  appeared  to  be  fully  engrossed  in  conversation  with  a  portly  man,  his  plump  cheeks  blushed  from  a  glass  of  wine  too  many  at  some  point.  with  faintly  stained  fingers  of  her  own  dora  tapped  her  companion  on  the  shoulder  from  behind  and  spoke  over  to  the  kris  kringle  lookalike. “i’m  afraid  i’ll  need  to  steal  mister  charter  here  from  you,  sir.  a  friend  has  just  walked  in  who  we  must  say  hello  to.”  she  lied,  suspecting  their  conversation  had  gone  on  long  enough.

[shelvedsaints]

There was a similar stain of red on his lips and teeth, one that Bellamy flicked his tongue over to clean but it would take more than a single swipe. Ichor slipped over a grin he kept a tight lip over from the conclusion of an arrangement that needed to be refined. His knuckles ached with the threat of a bruise, but he knew there wouldn’t be a single mark. Consequence against his body took a heavy hand and usually his own, but Bellamy wasn’t looking for it tonight. Every bite for the foundation wasn’t just a quick sink of his teeth, but a gnaw and Bellamy wouldn’t let go until the offer was limp in its conclusion for the taking. 

Dora’s disruption caught him off guard, but he melted into it. Her certainty was a welcoming pierce against the wavering wills of those he’d focused his attention on. They were malleable in his hands the entire event, peeling away and flaking against his first intuition that set their teeth on edge and desperate for absolution. Dora, on the other hand, interrupted with a sharp and steady focus.

“I’ll be right back. Until then,” Bellamy drifted off, that same bloody grin flashed their way where it rippled with a wide eyed gazed and then a heavy drop of shame he could hear resonate in the pits of their stomachs. He knew the price they’d pay for the secrets they needed to stay buried. Turning to her, it was now only wine that stained his lips. “Was a war cry to get them to donate more, or a cry for help to get the hell out of here?”

[dailymarvelstudios]

CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR (2016) SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME (2021)

insp. 

[akamatthewmurdock]

UNCHARTED (2022) dir. Ruben Fleischer

[74ruygehf]

𝙰 𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝚂𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  ››  𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗

the earth shakes ›› mahalia was camping on the night of september 1st, and was aloft in a tree —- restless and drawn in to being connected to the trees, and was awake when the apparent earthquake occurred. mahalia has experienced trees shaking before, swaying in winds that are not there, but never like this before. when she climbed down and saw that no leaves had been shaken loose, no branches had fallen and no cries of alarm rose up in the night —- she resigned herself to it being another, if more intense ‘experience’ in her life.

this is an event starter —- middle morning of september 1st, on the mountain tracks, mahalia is returning home from camping.

mahalia had woken after a very conflicted and convoluted night, stressing over what felt like an intense evening incident of déjà vu —- tree limbs bending, trunks shaking, TREMBLING, leaves quaking for no apparent reason, like when she was a sixteen year old —- and began packing her solo camping to return back home.   a disney lover at heart, in her head when she woke, was ‘just around the riverbend’ from the film pocahontas, sung by judy kuhn (a personal favourite of mahalia’s, the lyrics spoke her to so very wonderfully) — so she now played it aloud on her weatherproof bluetooth speaker, singing along as she strolled barefoot down the track.    there was a spring in her mood, an easy slowness to her pace —- despite the odd night —- she felt more ALIVE under the comforting canopy of leaves and towering trees that she had in quite a long time, eyes upwards to the greenery with her pack on her back as she sung along with the crescendo, voice carrying on the wind with a touch more power than usual; “— ‘how high does the SYCAMORE grow? if you cut it down, then you’ll never know…’ —- OH-” she stopped as she lowered her dark eyes to the path to see a person rounding the little bend in the track, embarrassed to be caught in such a free moment; her guard down, voice coming from deep within her SOUL as she had been singing the words of the song she so treasured — now her cheeks were pink with exertion and mild shock “-hello.”

[shelvedsaints]

Bellamy, like all fears he had, tucked away the panic of whatever earthquake he felt into a small box to be dealt with later. He told himself it was a reminiscent of danger. That lie had been passed from former soldier to former soldier more than once. Their bodies had been torn apart and put back together to handle chaos, and when they returned home, there was nothing there. They’d search for it, and their minds would go as far as making up danger as a means to soothe their bodies craving for adrenaline. He decided that the only way to silence it is to move, and every tree that stands tall only brings him closer to the conclusion that it was all in his head. 

The singing catches him by surprise, and he can’t help but stifle a snort against it. “And here I was thinking I was gonna run into some very unwelcoming animals in these parts.”

[shelvedsaints]

lovecrowncd​:

Looking towards Bellamy, Davina had both eyebrows raised in confusion. “Just a pretty good couple counseling book, so non-fiction, I’m afraid. You’re right about that” Sitting on her legs now, Davina naturally leaned into the conversation. 

“You alright?” Relocating the box filled with cold grapes between them, Davina just nodded towards them as yet another invitation. Looking at Bellamy, she couldn’t quite place her interest in him at first, but she was eager to find out who he was. “So you run around the beach a lot, I guess? I’ve never seen you around. What a shame,” she smirked, though it faded rather quickly, “who… are you?” 

“Yeah, I’m just making up for lost time,” He said, and then somehow seemed to catch himself and push for clarification. “Running, I mean. I usually have a day to myself but it’s been a while. I may have over done it, though.”

That was a confession Bellamy would have kept to himself, but he allowed himself the truth. His gaze dropped to the book but found its way back to her. 

“I’m Bellamy. I live over at Hesperides, so not too far. And you?” He asked, and then a nod to the book again. “I hope there’s not too much trouble in paradise.”

[shelvedsaints]

agrrotera​:

She knew Bellamy was the last person to step down from a challenge and their dynamic had grown into one trying to out do the other. Mysha always became a little more confident, a little bit cockier, when she was in her element. Work was work but the zoo was someplace she knew she would always feel comfortable in. Being exceptionally well with the animals didn’t hurt her experience anyway. “Don’t make any sudden movements or he will eat you.” She laughs. “I’m joking. Maybe you are as tough as you look…I don’t know. I’m still not convinced.” Her eyes arrow in on him as she gingerly lifts the reptile up from his shoulders. It coils around her arm but appears to be content. “You just made every twelve year old in here very jealous. I guess that counts for something.”

While it’s clear that its master and caretaker is Mysha, the creature still finds some intrigue with the man it’s been introduced to. Bellamy, head tilted as he touches its scales, swears he can understand its wavering trust in being passed around in the flick of its tongue. There’s a tone wrapped in its hiss and the blink of its eyes that he can piece together, but it’s taken back into Mysha’s care before he can give it much mind. 

“I think you’ve healed my inner child, they can have their own turn twenty years later.”

[shelvedsaints]

gcldrushed​:

     it was nice to feel young again–not that she was old by any means, but it felt like she was back to her college days when she wasn’t too stressed out and had more time to go out and party. since with her busy schedule nowadays, she could only come out and play once in a blue moon. and the hangovers are starting to get worse as well if she didn’t take her own brew for the morning after.

she was already feeling a little buzzed from the drinks she had, dancing along to the beat of the music. the pounding of the bass from the stereo had her moving in tune with it, finding the nearest person to her and spinning them around before placing her hands against their shoulder. “ what? i can’t hear you over the music, ” aurora yelled a little as she was pretty sure that they said something, but with the music being too loud, she didn’t quite catch it.

The motion gave him a wave of panic, a loss of control that Bellamy had yet to anticipate until he reminded himself of just where he was. There was no threat except a headache in the morning and maybe an aching on his feet on the walk home after being trampled by who knew how many pairs of heels. Her voice pulled him out of the panic that tried to pierce his high, and he shook his head against his own irrationality. 

“Nothing, I spilled my drink! You wanna get something, I’ll put it on my tab!” He offered, grounding himself in her sway. He focused on the rhythm she caught on to and pushed away the rest of the world. 

[shelvedsaints]

pxseidcn​:

          HIS BRAIN IS LIKE A COCKTAIL, every drink imaginable in his system. the lights in his favorite olympus night club appear like colorful neon waterfalls around him with all the hues mixing together in the center of the dance floor. leo probably danced with the entire nightclub at this point, a frenzy in a rush of energy. he grabbed somebody’s hand and twirled them, the other mumbling something to him. leo grabs his face by the cheeks and screams, trying to top the music. “ THIS IS THE BEST NIGHT IN A WHILE, “ his body grooves to the music, as the other gets a drink spilled on them. “ c’mon, “ he says, grabbing his hand and leading the other to a particular point at the bar where he knew the bartenders leave their towels. “ here you go. want help? “ leo winks, extending his hand and proposing the towel.

There’s a violence in the night that Bellamy finds sweet, one that roars in his ears and gets his heart flooding the rest of his body with the taste of purgatory between fight and flight. He welcomes it and when it rings in his ears, Bellamy swears the night has more to offer. The spilling of his drink, though, he could do without. The eye of the storm breaks over them both as they find solace away from the dance floor but not too far from the chaos–– and Bellamy’s refusal to part with it is met his elbow over the counter ordering a set of shots. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever left this place without wearing someone else’s overpriced cocktail,” He admits, wringing out his shirt before nodding at the towel at hand. “Thanks.”

[shelvedsaints]

levina-garcia​:

The music pumped through her veins and she was ready to let loose. Carefree and reckless, the brunette moved through the crowd of dancing people, letting the beat take her where she needed to be. Levina lived in the moment and especially loved when the attention was on her. 

A head reaches out to grab the first at touch and she spins the unexpected person, wanting someone else to join in on her fun. A smile spreads across her features when she hears a male’s voice. 

“I wouldn’t want you throwing up on my dress. I really do like this one.” Her eyes sparkled, the alcohol bringing her to a new level. Her eyes look down and then over to the person they bumped into, their drinking spilling over their shirt. “Shit…looks like someone else made a mess tonight.” She erupts in a fit of giggles. “I think we need to go get you dried off.”

Once his surrounds settle against the blur of light and liquor, Bellamy makes out his newfound company and he shakes his head against his last words. “I just need a warning is all. As long as I know when the spin’s coming, by all means–– take me away.”

He looks down at his shirt again where it clings to him in a chill. It’s a saving grace against the pent up heat inside the club, but the stick of whatever flourish was added to it to drive up its price fought against any gratefulness Bellamy could award it. 

“I think it’s been a long time coming,” He said, pulling apart the bottoms of his shirt and wiping his chest with what little of the fabric remained dry. “Problem solved, yeah?”

[shelvedsaints]

psychcpomp​:

     although alex wishes to do nothing more than to join bellamy on the wavelength that he seemed to be riding right now, he still had some sense of responsibility on the clock. sure, he’d take a couple of shots here and there and take quick breaks with whatever pretty person catches his attention at the bar… but maybe he shouldn’t make it too easy for his manager to finally throw him out on his ass. he scoped the club; it was nearing 3 am, and people were still going wild. it wasn’t unusual for a saturday night, at magnetic island’s only club ( if you don’t count bacchae upstairs ). 

     his eyes catch bellamy popping another pill in between his lips, and then being spun around by a random hand on the dancefloor. he scoffs, chewing on the toothpick in between his fingers — lately, he’s been wanting a cigarette between his lips more and more, and he couldn’t keep taking smoke breaks so this should tide him over for a bit. 

     he grabs a water bottle from below the bar, chilled and perfect for someone sweating it out on the dancefloor, and hops over the bar. he stands at the edge of the crowd, “ bell ! ” he catches his attention, waving him over, “ get the fuck over here. ” and when he does, he gives him a small grin, handing him the cold bottle of water. “ i know for a fact you’re not making sure you’re stayin’ hydrated between all those shots and pills, so someone has to keep track of you, yeah ? ” he teases, looking back behind him at the person he stole bellamy from. “ shit, did i cockblock you ? ”

The sound of his name cuts through the noise, but for once Bellamy doesn’t search for it as a means of assessment. Certainty turns his head in the direction of Alex’s call and once he’s found, he catches him in a drunken pat of his shoulder. 

“Waiter? You told me to come over for water?” He scoffed, but the corners of his mouth still hang on a grin. He’s found peace, whatever form of it is easy for Bellamy to swallow though it seems to be bitter encapsulated doses, and there’s little to undo his content state. “I was thinking you were giving me the chance to finally jump off this counter! Fucking wishful thinking.”

Still, he takes the bottle and gives it a single sip to please his friend–– and spills it in his own favor to pretend he’s drank more. It hardly makes much of a different with all the drinks that have taken a tumble that night, and even more so on Bellamy’s shirt. Looking back into the crowd, he lets out a groan, “Yeah, you did. Fuck... Were they hot? What kind of loss are we talking here?”

[userjoel]

211214 / tom holland interviews son heung-min

[tragedylaceds]

is anyone else also Trash for love and war aka. aphrodite and ares?

Aphrodite and Ares mean the world to me ngl. The fact that it's the god of war and the goddess of love to find each other and go all the way to be together is such a sweet and honestly I C O N I C pair. I honestly can't wait to, if I get the chance, explore them ♥ @shelvedsaints

[deathsflcwers]

ABSOLUTELY SHIPPED WITH BELLAMY, not gonna get into why the Ares and Persephone dynamic slaps, but just those two? I have been a fan from whenever she broke in to yell at him about hurling in her flowers (*Wendy WIlliam's voice* allegedly)

    𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔡𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔞𝔠 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔶?

this,  above,  was  lilac  ten  minutes  at  the  club  with  bellamy,  right  now  she  doesn’t  know  it’s  him,  but  there’s  a  whole  attraction  thing  happening  which  is  honestly  because  i  adore  the  utter  power  and  CHAOS  of  ares  and  persephone,  it’s  up  there  with  some  of  my  favourite  symbolic  crossovers  and  it’s  damn  spicy.   tbh,  i  think  i’ve  always,  deep  down,  been  a  little  bit  of  a  fan  of  bellamy  and  lilac  anyway  🤌🏾

AND!  she  absolutely  damn  did  yell  at  him  over  flowers!  i  think  she  also  threatened  to  throw  water  at  him?    the  whole  ‘breaking  and  entering’  part  is  what  she  would  say  is  alleged.                   (  @shelvedsaints )

[shelvedsaints]

masochisticpan​:

A night with Bell was never dull, and providing the nice bag of happy pills tucked away in his jean pocket, everything seemed to get better and better by the hour. The lights felt brighter, and it was as if Logan was floating across the dancefloor to Bellamy, reaching towards him until he was able to spin, spin, and spin the other. A cry out, and he’s pulling away, protesting that he’s feeling nauseous. Keeping his distance, Logan watches the other with a tilt of his head and rubs his hands against the front of his pants. The room is warm, and what’s in his system doesn’t help with the heat that’s radiating off of him or the other people in his vicinity. 

He doesn’t hear much, aside from Bell cursing and then finally he looks up to see what’s wrong. He hears his own chuckle late, delayed, everything moving in slower motion than usual, but the grin on his face meets his ears. Hands reach out for the other once more, “You’re so fucking clumsy. Sorry – I make you dizzy?”

His drink, bright pink, flooded over the edge and splashed between them. As a means of ensuring that he’d avoid another mess, Bellamy tilted the cup to his lips and replaced his hold on it for Logan’s waist once he caught him again in the swarm of people. Taking a lead of their sway, he’d be able to ground himself against the drunken tones of those around them. He needed a moment to reclaim the rhythm of the night.

“Just a little, but it passed,” He grinned, the curl of his lips numb. All it meant was that Bellamy couldn’t fight it and candor would taint his tongue for the rest of the evening and morning with the way nights at Olympus never seemed to end. “And clumsy? Maybe a little, but it’s playing to my favor. I got you over here, didn’t I?”