#it's 2am.

[itzartsytime]

Doodles

[ordenza]

[cynamonowo]

hey all y'all this be my most kudo'ed fic so i guess it's good enough for you to share like n subscribe amirite gamers and gays

[letkeithinfodump]

wow.... im sneepy (snail sleepy)

[hittcr-a]

james threw himself down on the cot next to eliot with a wide grin and a necklace dangling between his fingers, “hey, man. look what mah sent me.” eliot glanced up from his gun, cleaning rag stilling only briefly. a wide smile crossed his lips. “’s lookin’ real nice, jimmy. mah’ll be proud when you wear that out on the field, huh?” the distant sound of gunfire didn’t perturb him. it’d become a part of his life anymore. just like the rain thudding almost soothingly against the side of their tent, masking the sound of ieds and gunfire and muffled shouting in a language he couldn’t speak.  eliot set aside his gun and made a grab for the pendant, tugging it easily from james’ hand. a fleur de lis etched in the center of the small, thin metal hanging from the chain. the smile widened. “should just start callin’ you louisiana, huh?” he chuckled as he tossed the necklace back. “’s gonna keep you safe, man. your mamma know’s what she’s doin’.” he chuckled and finished cleaning his gun before leaning back against his cot, boots getting mud on the end of his bed. james leaned back too and the two nodded a few of the other men into the tent to take a seat and rest up a bit before they were due to go out.  it was the sharp, far too close for comfort, crack of a sniper that drew the comfortable, more relaxed men in the tent up onto their haunches, fingers reaching for their guns just in case. eliot was up and on his feet, throwing on his jacket over his white shirt. it was a chilly rain and eliot knew, god some part of him knew this tent wasn’t going to make the night.  the rain hit his face and james came up behind him, a hand on his shoulder as the taller kid swung his gun around, dark eyes straining to find the source of the shot. it didn’t last long, the calm before the storm. eliot took the lead, shoving the rest of his men behind him as if he was aiming to protect them, even as the ground beneath their feet shifted and opened a chasm into what he assumed was hell. their tent was gone. just twisted metal beams and canvas and strewn bags and belongings and...  some part of eliot sunk into the grass beneath his back that made his back damp and disappeared. travel light. never get sentimental. you’ll lose it all when you least expect it.  one of eliot’s large hands pushed him up, the other grabbed for james’ shirt, pulling him up with him. everyone was silent, waiting. he was their commander now, he was the man in charge, even the dull throbbing from the open, flesh melting wound on his shoulder wouldn’t stop him from keeping them safe. eliot gestured for a strip of foliage at the edge of the camp and his men scampered away, clearing the area for the time being. eliot was quick to follow.  they huddled there, camped beneath the towering trees, eyeing the battlefield with intent. they would all be getting out of this alive if he had anything to say about it. eliot took a deep breath and shot james a look, “could use some’a that voodoo your mah’s always talkin’ about, man.” it was an attempt to make the mood lighter. it didn’t work. not really. eliot scanned the tree line looking for the glint of the sniper, not that he was the worst of his problems. eliot huddled his men closer, a quick plan, rough but good, was formed.  they’d be getting out of here alive.  eliot went first, ignoring his injury, shouldering his gun, an attempt to draw fire. it worked. he ran, full throttle, across the camp towards another set of trees, dirt kicking up behind him. then another. and when he stopped and turned around, one of his men was eating dirt and he was watching where the bullet came from. damn shame, he thought, kid didn’t run like his life depended on it. damn shame. damn shame. damn shame they wouldn’t all be getting out of here alive. mortality hits like a truck, only he doesn’t have time to sit there and grab his broken legs, he has to get up, and run, or risk begin hit by a train the next time.  for the second time in thirty minutes the ground blew up beneath him, tossing him like some worthless twig through the air. he heard the shot that killed the sniper, as if that was the only thing they were worried about. he could taste dirt and blood in his mouth and when he spat it was black and gritty. eliot pulled himself up with a wheeze and grabbed for his gun to get moving, to regroup. that’s when he saw james. an arm bent out of shape, fingers pointed in all the wrong directions, a barely moving chest that connected it all, half buried in the dirt and the grass and eliot was on his knees in a second, hands gripping at james, hands reaching to pull his soul back, to put him back in his body and pull him up and off to join the rest of their men.  and around his neck hung that stupid fucking pendant that eliot said would bring him luck, keep him safe. just like he was supposed too, and jimmy had this stupid fucking grin on his face and he slapped at the side of eliot’s face affectionately, “’ey cowboy. you tell my mamma-- -” it died in his throat.  it hadn’t hit eliot until he was holding the lifeless corpse of a kid his own age that they were just children out here, dying for something he didn’t even fully understand. it didn’t hit him that he was only 19, couldn’t even drink and he was risking his life here, in some damn country with other kids his age trying to act like they were somebody, making a name for themselves. he was only 19 and he was clutching a man he knew for four months in his arms and he wasn’t moving anymore. it was instinct for eliot to tug the necklace free and stuff it in his pocket. james wasn’t his first casualty. he wouldn’t be his last either. but eliot would be damned if he would forget him. not james.  the necklace sat heavily in his pocket, a solemn reminder even as the body hit the dirt with a solid thud, that he was fighting in a war. and not all of them would be going home. 

[nybariz]

i should really start to work on something to post the stabbing day

[cosmoseinfeld]

one of my neighbours is snoring SO GODDAMN LOUDLY. almost every night. the walls are so thin and so are my nerves. thinking thoughts that won't get me into heaven.