#hartbled

[foxcured-blog]

@hartbled​

          tired lids close over amber irises once, twice,  three times and all at a lethargic pace.  he was starting to see two of her,  his grip on the glass loosening as he rubs at his temple with his free hand.  elie had made him a jack and coke,  an offering for a simple celebration of life;  but he was starting to feel like her intentions might have been to make the room rise over and over and O V E R again.  he takes in a sharp breath,  trying to focus on her face,  her hair,  anything to keep him from falling asleep.  his palm smooths over his entire visage,  as if he could wipe away the disorientation – but it’s hopeless.  his frame falls slightly backward where he sits,  the drink sloshing slightly onto the floor.  ❛  – elie, ❜ he starts, concern and betrayal weaving themselves into his expression.  ❛  did you put something in my drink? ❜ 

          they had been together for a while now,  inseparable,  referred to by classmates as ‘stelie’ rather than just them as  individuals ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ the mixture of their names had amused him at first but he had gotten used to it -- that was just how it was,  the two of them together.  always.  no one was more meant for him than this girl,  a cherubic epitome of his perfect girlfriend ⎯⎯⎯⎯ but did he really know her at all?  had she really done this to him?  he attempts to get up,  stumbling a bit and catching himself before he falls with his palms against the couch cushion he had just risen from. ❛  why am i so dizzy?  i only had half of a drink this.... this isn’t...  ❜  he couldn’t finish,  his voice is beginning to fade,  losing its volume and diction -- he’s starting to sound like he can’t breathe,  like a PANIC attack is creeping on him (  and oh,  he would have had it if he didn’t have this drug surging through his veins ).

[foxcured-blog]

💀 o pps

-------- #74 “Did you put something in my drink?”

                tired lids close over amber irises once, twice,  three times and all at a lethargic pace.  he was starting to see two of her,  his grip on the glass loosening as he rubs at his temple with his free hand.  elie had made him a jack and coke,  an offering for a simple celebration of life;  but he was starting to feel like her intentions might have been to make the room rise over and over and O V E R again.  he takes in a sharp breath,  trying to focus on her face,  her hair,  anything to keep him from falling asleep.  his palm smooths over his entire visage,  as if he could wipe away the disorientation -- but it’s hopeless.  his frame falls slightly backward where he sits,  the drink sloshing slightly onto the floor.  ❛  -- elie,  ❜  he starts, concern and betrayal weaving themselves into his expression.  ❛  did you put something in my drink?  ❜

[bolshvek-blog1]

@hartbled​ liked for a starter.    

  ❛      WEAPONS   GO   THROUGH    inspection before they’d allowed to be carried        --------      sometimes we get faulty triggers and the last thing we need is our own killing each other.    i suspect you’re new if you didn’t know that    ,    HM    ?      ❜    

[murdercomics-blog1]

@hartbled​ !

❛    so,    miss  law  student  ....    what’s  your  favorite  case ?    ❜      clearly  stavo  was  hoping  for  an  answer  along  the  lines  of  something  at  least  slightly  murderous   -    with  lots  of  details,  of  course. 

[foxcured-blog]

@hartbled​

                HE WAS LATE,  falling behind even in his quest to explore options of his future,  following in his dad’s footsteps.  he wasn’t entirely familiar with what it was like to be involved in the law,  to be involved in anything, really.  lacrosse wasn’t entirely his thing  ;  in fact,  anything physical was extremely difficult for him performance wise.  but one thing he was good at was school.  he was having a rough start.  the teacher stopped speaking mid-lecture,  pausing to allow stiles to make a scene through the room (  and by a scene, it means he dropped his backpack and scrambled to shove the papers and books back into the bag  )  he eventually plops down next to a strawberry tressed female in the front row, one he notices looks alarmingly like the girl that ignored him all through high school.  he knows it isn’t her,  though,  because she ran off with jackson and was likely never going to look at stiles again.  he opens a different portion of his bag,  pulling out a laptop and settling it onto the swinging desk once he pushes it into position.   the professor looks at his attendance sheet,  seemingly attempting to figure out how to pronounce the name of the one student that wasn’t called during attendance. ❛ m --  ❜ stiles stops him, raising his hand and releasing a rather loud cough.  ❛ stiles, it’s stiles stilinksi.  ❜  the teacher checks him off, shaking his head before resuming his coverage of the syllabus.  stiles doesn’t want to disrupt the process again,  but he doesn’t have a copy.  with as much stealth as he can manage,  (  it isn’t a lot  )  he peeks over at the girl’s copy next to him. 

[enfog-archive-blog]

‘  HMM,   i .. think i actually see it, now that you mention it !  ‘

    @hartbled

[dcrkmiind-blog]

              ❛     hey  ,  you  supposed  to  be  in  peds  or  just  lost     ?     ❜     //     @hartbled.