#lieutrebel

[navyflcwn-a]

❛ there is something familiar about you. ❜ ryan said as he looked at the man in front of him. because it has been a long time since he was last in a flight suit, nothing comes to mind. most memories have been DORMANT for at least a decade. ❛ I'm sorry, I am coming up blank. do you have a family member in the Navy, @lieutrebel? ❜

[ltkarma]

THERE'S NOTHING BETTER THAN LATE NIGHT FOOD ; soaked up alcohol , absorbed into greasy french fries and waffles drowned in maple syrup and butter. avi doesn't even flinch as her fork hits the cheap ceramic plate for the millionth time - as she struggles to push against the squishy sweet mess and cut a piece of delicious grease off and shovel with little ceremony into her mouth. the midnight blue dress doesn't exactly scream two in the morning diner wear - though the well worn make-up and hair certainly does. but then again , there isn't exactly a dress code for the booth where they'd found themselves -- in the middle of nowhere , virginia.

❛ it's not that i hate weddings ... ❜ she chews thoughtfully, looking back at dex across the table, spinning the blunted knife between the fingers of her free hand - narrowly avoiding a plastic tumblr of heavily iced water. this isn't an interrogation. but it might look like one. if you squint hard enough. ❛ they're just always so ... fucking .... same-y. y'know ? ❜

starter for @lieutrebel

[aercnaut-archived]

biggest strength is being the coolest and most loving aeronaut bitch around <3 you've got a heart bigger than texas (and my canadian understanding is that texas is very big???)

what's my biggest strength as a roleplayer? 👉👈🥺

MOTLEY ILYSM (also yes texas is big and in the world of h.dm texas is a whole country that takes up the wntire lower half of the us)

[tinytanks]

[ FIGHT ] rubs my grubby paws together

-- " just admit it! " eddie laughs, a bright sound that rippled through her, down at dex with a beaming smile, " admit you're beat, i'm fuckin' unstoppable, huh? " her thighs, like steel, secure on either side of his hips, hands having caught his wrists and pinned them up above his head -- this was a victory. their evening was being wasted, rolling around play fighting because there was nothing better to do on a late summer evening and now, she was victorious, pinning him to the ground, " sucker. " but he moves quickly and eddie is once again trying to fend him off, her play slaps and kicks light, minding her own strength impeccably well ; the last time they'd done this, she'd caught him something terrible in the ribs.

[fyrewalks]

“ please remove me as your emergency contact, my phone won’t stop ringing. ” // @lieutrebel

"Ha," Bob responds flatly. He appreciates Dex's attempt at humor, it's far better than the endless noise of the emergency room, but he's exhausted and his head hurts. Bob just wants to hurry everything along; the sooner he can escape back to his apartment and sleep off the worst of the pain, the better.

"I didn't interrupt anything did I," he asks, sliding off the bed to gather his jacket and the instructions left with him. Bob isn't sure he actually wants to know, not with the kind of things Dex is known to get up to, but he's stalling, working his way up to saying thanks.

[ltdice]

⁽  ¹  ⁾     an exploration of:    assorted sentence prompts.     accepting.​    “   i don’t need your help.  ”

wild thing,   caught in the disarray of sentimentality where lack of attachment had housed its’ wretched desires in the fabric of being.      it’s so easy to fixate on the isolation,   to burrow oneself so deeply in the abyss that it came naturally like the way breath does.   the mirror image of disposition was never easy to swallow;    how broken shards of glass could act as a reminder that things were not as they appeared.    carmen allows a sigh to press past her lips,   a quiet one but terse with a budding frustration.    how hypocritical of her.    but still,   with her heavy - handed gaze fixated on @lieutrebel​ all rationality that had once tethered to her ribcage,   split at the pulling seams.      ‟  stop being a fucking idiot,   dex.  ”     though words are a battle cry,   intonation lacks any biting edge;   it’s more so like a lulling request to find grounded explanations.   she shakes her head then,   arms folding across her chest.   if carmen cardoza was one thing,   it was painfully stubborn.     ‟   everyone needs someone,   alright?   just let me be there for you.  ”     and maybe,   just maybe,   one day she’d swallow the pill of her own demand.

[ltkarma]

@lieutrebel​​ asked :  ‘  i  reached  for  him  because  i  had  to  feel  something .  i  had  to  feel  anything .  ’

               SHE’S NOT SURE IF SHE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT IT. but he has that look on his face again, the one she’s gotten used to over the years - the one that means that whatever is about to come , is going to mean something. he has a habit of keeping it all inside ( they both do - it’s not a fucking reach to compare separate but very much shared trauma between the two of them. birds of a feather and all that ... ) a habit of only sharing when he can feel it all getting too much - and here at bob’s bedside , it’s one of those times. the monitors never stop fucking bleeping. it’s a sound she hates but at the same time finds comforting  - a signal that his heart is still beating , that he’s still in there no matter the damage externally. no matter how long he has to sleep. his mousy brown hair is curled across his forehead , glasses at the bedside table with a deep crack in the lens. dex’s watery blue eyes look exhausted - his forehead lined with stress and anxiety and the guilt she knows overwhelms and fills him up to brim. it’s starting to overflow - now as his elbows rest on finally steadied knees and palms find his face.  ❛  i know ... ❜  words finally tumble from between her dried lips, avi’s hand still laid across rob’s as her other reaches for him, fingers dancing across the bone of his knee cap - letting him know he isn’t alone here in the recovery room. that he’s never alone, not really. 

❛  and he reached back. you saved him,  dex -   ❜  there’s a crack , avi’s tone shifting as her eyes flicker closed for a moment - memories that seem oceans away , switching distance and focus between childhood and innocence , loss and death and everything in-between. fingers squeeze at his knee , as if she’s begging him to come back. to be with her for now. to hold each others hands innocently as if they were kids jumping from the boat dock again. there’s something certain in a friendship as old as theirs. something solid and soothing. something they both need now, in this moment as rob’s chest rises and falls softly. brothers. siblings. bonds forged through time and grief. love flickers between the three of them so differently, on wavelengths unseen but so connected that it makes her ache for the simple bond they share.  ❛  so let me save you. just for a little while ...  ❜  unspoken understanding, an ear -- whatever she can offer as she moves in her chair , finger baring the ring rob had given her glinting against dex’s thickened scarred knuckles.  ❛  you got him home to me. you brought him back ---  ❜  there’s a breathless pause , a deep draw of breath as tears she thought might have dried out return to prickle at her eyes.  ❛  --- i’d be lost without you, stringbean. please don’t disappear on me ...  ❜      

[lcdrreinhardt]

@lieutrebel​​ asked :   032.   a quiet hospital room

gold crosses your palm - broken sheered metal, a ring cut into two halves that your eyes flicker over again and again and again - as if the strenth of your will alone will forge it back together. truth is, it’s easier to focus on the jagged lines where the medics had cut it off than listen to the constant beep of monitors that echo without pause around the room. the doctors in the field had done it ( and you both knew he probably shouldn’t have had it on anyway ... ) and yet the feel of it in your hands hits home harder than the news that he had been recovered and was back on the roosevelt. because none of that had felt real ; not the transcript of the news from the carrier - not the way jack had called you into his office to sit down and allow you time to gather your thoughts. even the phrase had pissed you off - gathering your goddamn thoughts. as if it was easy to scoop them all up into a neat pile. the tension in your hands had caused them to flex into a balled fist slowly and surely. every single semblance of thought had been gathered within minutes into absolute clarity. absolute focus. compartmentalizing your emotions is part of your job. part of who you are to some degree. but when it comes to him, everything bleeds into everything else too easily. everything becomes one mass of feeling that you struggle to control. you know that to get through this you should switch off the part of your brain that worries, the one part that wants to sink into the bed next to him and cry over the state of his injuries and just how exhausted he looks. instead you sit and stare at his ring in the plam of your hand and how it’s been halved almost perfectly.

❛   i’m sorry ---   ❜   the words fall quietly and you’re not sure why you’re apologising. but it kinda feels like the thing to do -- and you know a part of it is guilt. part of it is because everytime you’d told him he’d come back in one piece you’d believed it. that he was made for this run -- the invinsibility you’d built up within dexter was a form of self preseravation for yourself because the alternative was unthinkable. and yeah ,  maybe you’d jinxed it. not that you believe in fate really. but the alternative is unthinkable and you can’t allow youself to sit with it for any longer than necessary.

❛   i’m sorry this happened. i’m sorry it wasn’t how you wanted it to be ...   ❜   a beat, as your eyes gaze upwards slowly to where he lays looking so fucking peaceful, your body juddering for a moment. the part of your brain that worries -- the part you’ve been trying to quiten down suddely making itself heard as you move quickly - pushing the two pieces of gold onto the table and finding a space on the bed beside him - tentative fingers tailing across his forhead to card through dark auburn curls gently.  ❛   you really scared me , baby.   ❜  eyebrows that knit together as you search his face for any sign of consciousness, any sign that he’s going to come around  ❛   i thought i was gonna have to call your mom and have a really serious conversation, dex.  i didn’t think you were coming home to me for a hot minute --   ❜   it’s rare the way your voice breaks, the crack in your armour becoming wider and wider as your eyes shift to the neck line of the blue hospital gown and the brusing that flares up and across his chest  , dancing at the edges of the collar. gold lays on the third finger of your left hand that sits beside his own, resting easily on the bed. gold that catches the light of the one lamp that illuminates the room , as you lean in to whisper millions of hushed and pretty i love you’s against the shell of his ear --- worst case sceanarios beginning to burn and flake away from the back of your mind. because he’s home -- home and as safe as he can be given the situation. home -- and as his fingers twitch slowly, moving across to drift across the gold he gave you, moving as you smile and press a delicate kiss to his temple - you know deep down that everything is gonna be okay. and hell -  it isn’t okay, it definitely isn’t the end.