#strlitmemries

[historicn]

       sʜᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴀsɴ·ᴛ sᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀs ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɪᴅᴇᴀ.  this journal seemed at times like a stranger’s property, like someone else’s thoughts and memories had been put in there and SHE WAS TRESPASSING. but then, the earliest trips, their earliest memories of being a team were all in there, and they were all her, all from her head, her thoughts, her memories. her thoughts were running a mile a minute, the journal held in one hand while her other hand was occupied with a bottle of beer. maybe it wasn’t a good idea to drink and read through the damn thing, but certain entries needed alcohol, at least a little bit. like the one that had his name all over it. FLYNN. garcia flynn. she’d read through little sections before, but actually focusing on larger parts now that wyatt wasn’t glancing over her shoulder, it seemed a little easier. taking a swig from the bottle in hand, she raised a brow at one sentence before frowning at the noise from the kitchen behind her. turning her head, she brought one arm over the back of the sofa, placing the journal in her lap with the other hand.    “ if you’re coming over here, you better bring over two more bottles. “    holding up the half empty bottle of beer to show him that she was already well on the way to having a few drinks for the night.    “ just going through some of the JOURNAL ENTRIES.... if you wanted to keep me company? “   ---------------- @strlitmemries​ ( flynn )

[hittcr-a]

@strlitmemries​ // moreau

          “what i did was a favor, moreau. you ain’t supposed t’ come back. thought i made it pretty clear what i’d do ‘f you did.” empty words. eliot hates how empty they are. he hates that damien probably knows they’re empty too. “don’t look a gift horse in th’ mouth an’ all.” it makes his skin crawl just being this close. there’s that sort of fear that creeps in around the edges and unsettles. and eliot hasn’t felt that since the last time he stood this close to damien moreau.

[yovrstruely]

@strlitmemries​ said: "Wow... you're easy to file up." ( Garcia @ Lorena? )

ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ –

“And just who’s fault do you think that is?” Honestly? It wasn’t her fault that she and her husband couldn’t keep their hands off of eachother. After being separated for so long, even little touches felt good--but they had always had a deep down craving for eachother. And it definintely made her needy at times. More than a little needy. 

[doctordonovan-a]

strlitmemries  birdie rambles;    this  isn’t  a  real  post,   ...

Maeve, Reid, Luke, and Penny all hanging out when???

the true Team Chaos !    ballads will be written about them.

[logicheld]

𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒  he  would  be  hosting  moriarty  in  his  rooms  once  more,  he  might  have  laughed.  then  taken  to  drifting  towards  the  window,  peeking  outside  &  then  laughing  once  more  in  a  darker,  more  worrisome  register.

holmes  pours  them  tea,  rolling  his  eyes.  ❛   you  say  that  we  go  round  the  sun.  if  we  went  round  the  moon  the  moon  it  would  not  make  a  pennyworth  of  difference  to  me  or  my  work.  ❜   he  lathers  some  honey  onto  his  toast  over  the  butter.  the  days  still  come  as  do  the  nights.  the  calendars  get  swapped  &  he  has  his  bees,  he  has  his  watson.  it  hardly  mattered  then  &  holmes  cannot  fathom  it  mattering  now.

@strlitmemries​  /  dialogue  starter  !

[hittcr-a]

strlitmemries replied to your post “wayne’s just what eliot would have been if he stayed home and took...”

LETTERKENNY ELIOT & QUINN AU WHEN

ELIOT’S THE TOUGHEST GUY IN FORT GIBSON QUINN.

[doctordonovan-a]

*☾ closed starter for @strlitmemries​  -  for cal !

THE STARS FEEL,     and  always  have  felt,    oddly  intoxicating.    the  nothingness  so  many  were  once  driven  mad  by.    it’s  far  from  confusing:    how  the  seemingly  endless  emptiness  engulfing  what  light  is  present  could  be  too  much  for  some  brains  to  deal  with.    she’s  observed  it  in  many  of  the  cadets,    those  new  to  travelling,    the  call  still  ringing  in  their  ears  from  back  home.   perhaps  she’s  lucky  to  not  have  that  problem,    a  child  of  two  worlds,    an  orphan  to  two  lives.    earth  is  no  longer  an  option,    with  the  constant  threat  of  being  watched,   of  never  being  allowed  to  rest.    her  human  adoptive  parents  raising  her  only  as  human  proving  during  her  time  studying  on  vulcan  that  it’d  never  be  home. 

so  the  stars  it  is,    head  tilting,    unblinkling  watch  through  the  glass  as  she  allows  herself  the  rare  indulgence  of  tucking  dark  curls  behind  obviously  non-human  ears,    giving  no  clue  of  her  awareness  she’s  not  alone  until  she  speaks.    ❝  I’m  off  duty  and  couldn’t  sleep,  ❞    maeve  remarks  instead  of  a  greeting,    the  geneticist’s  bright  eyes  finally  moving  to  the  other.    ❝  perhaps  you  can  help  me  out.    the  constellation.   I  can’t  decide  if  it  looks  more  like  a  rabbit  or  two  tangled  snakes.  ❞

[historicn]

         ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴅɪғғɪᴄᴜʟᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇs.  not really knowing where she stood, or how he’d take a situation after the whole... jessica thing. but she couldn’t blame him. his wife had come back, and she’d been the root of so many problems thanks to rittenhouse. there were moments when she almost forgot that things weren’t the same, that there was this TENSION between them, that they weren’t what they once were. and then there were moments when she wished she could just break that tension, crack some stupid joke that only he’d get. just seeing him sat there now, she paused for a moment, unsure of whether or not she should or could take the seat beside him, before she made the split decision to just do it. sitting herself down next to him, slowly, she pulled her legs underneath herself and got comfortable.    “ i never asked you. if there was one time in history that you REALLY wanted to visit... what would it be? “    okay, it was the stupidest, lamest way of breaking the ice, of striking up a conversation that didn’t focus on jessica or a baby or anything, but it was a way of just talking. of it meaning nothing. -------------- @strlitmemries​  ( wyatt )