callous-and-misunderstood

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when the fic is a rated t one-shot with a 20k+ word count titled something like "the mechanics of turtle migration" with kudos in the low hundreds yk it's gonna hit

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This meme but Darling/Apple coded. 👑🗡

BUAHAHAHAHA I LOVE THISSSS 😭✨

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Atlantis: Milo's Return (2003) dir. by Victor Cook, Toby Shelton y Tad Stones.

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There are no tax breaks for housing a young ward but their living allowances and imaginary wage can be counted as business expenses. This is why Boils is smart.

Follow up to this art.

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It’s Tuesday you know what that meanssss

Part three of my Eddie tries to solve whatever mystery the freshmen and steve are hiding (another between seasons 3&4 fic)

Part 1 Part 2

-

Eddie dropped down next to Gareth on the couch in Jeff’s parents’ garage. Usually when they were all out here together, they’d be practicing, since this was where the drum kit was. Today however, they had agreed to meet up after their most recent Hellfire meeting.

“Okay so, are we gonna talk about it?” Gareth asked, gaze locked on Eddie.

“I mean, I’m not even 100% sure what most of it was.” Eddie said.

“How ‘bout you start from the bathroom.” Jeff offered.

So Eddie started explaining finding Harrington in the bathroom, something clearly wrong. How he figured if anyone knew what was going on it might be Henderson, and he was right.

“Yeah, after you guys left, we tried to ask Mike what it was all about and he said Dustin was the only one who really knew any details, he just knew that Harrington had been having issues with headaches and stuff.” Grant supplied.

“One hell of a headache.” Eddie said, shaking his head. “I mean, the guy was on the floor, he could barely form coherent sentences until Mike and Dustin started having it out in the hallway.”

“Yeah, what was that all about?” Gareth pressed.

Eddie shrugged. “To be honest it was kind of hard for me to follow. Every time they said anything I felt like I was missing half of the story.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But what I did hear confirmed something i’ve been suspicious about for a while.”

“What?” Jeff quirked an eyebrow at him.

“They’re hiding something. All three of them and Harrington.” He looked to his friends’ faces to see their reaction. Most of them looked curious.

“Have you noticed, when they talk about certain things, they start to say something, then stop and change what they were going to say?” He asked.

Gareth was nodding. “Yeah, and none of them will give a straight answer on how exactly Henderson got so close with Harrington.”

“And,” Eddie said, just remembering another detail, “Wheeler said something like ‘we would have died in the tunnels without him.’ What fucking tunnels?”

He received a round of shrugs and head shakes in response.

Eddie leaned back in his seat, bringing his fingertips together like he was a villain in some shitty action movie. “Boys, I believe we find ourselves with a puzzle of our own to solve.”

Eddie figured Henderson would be the easiest to crack, with his inability to shut up about things he knew a lot about. Sinclair was far too good at deflecting and brushing things off, and nobody was willing to try to break through Wheeler’s attitude.

After about two weeks of trying to pry any details he could from Dustin, he had an epiphany. It came to him as he drove past Family Video, Harrington’s beemer sitting in the parking lot, and the man himself visible through the window reshelving an armful of tapes.

He could just ask Harrington.

As soon as he had the thought he physically recoiled. What had happened to him in just a few short weeks that a thought like that almost seemed not insane? He couldn’t just talk to the former Basket Ball Team Captain, Keg King, Prom King, Steve Harrington. It was just too weird. And Eddie was comfortable with weird but this was like, against the laws of nature territory.

Then he had a second epiphany. As he sat at the red light, he watched Harrington start walking toward the next aisle over, looking behind himself at something, and clip his shoulder on on the corner of the shelf, sending his neatly stacked movies tumbling to the ground. As the light turned green, he saw the answer to his problem step into view and help Harrington pick up the tapes and he began formulating his plan.

~

In a move worthy of every self respecting John Hughes movie, Eddie positioned himself perfectly and silently behind the open door of Robin Buckley’s locker so that when she slammed it shut, she was met with his mischievous smirk.

She let out a short yelp of surprise, then punched him, not so gently in the shoulder. “What the hell, Munson?”

“Firstly: Ow,” he started, rubbing the spot he could already feel a bruise forming, “Secondly: has Harrington’s penchant for getting into fistfights rubbed off on you so easily, my dear Lady?”

She scoffed. “Ok firstly,” she said mockingly, “keep calling me ‘Lady’ and I’ll do a lot more than punch you in your stupid vest-“

Eddie made a sound of offense at the insult to his beloved battle vest, but Robin kept going.

“And second: Steve’s only gotten into one fist fight on purpose. By your logic, I could say you have a penchant for repeating senior year.”

“Low blow. You know, I’m almost too hurt to even do what I came here to do.” Eddie brought the back of his hand to his forehead, miming fainting.

Robin hummed in faux consideration. “Did it maybe occur to you that was my goal?”

Eddie gasped, overdramatic as always. “Oh, Buckley, don’t tell me the evil King Steve has turned you against your fellow freak!”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Steve is not evil,” she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder, “and if I don’t get to work before 3:00, he’s going to pick the movie playing on every tv in the store, and it’s gonna be that stupid star wars movie and if I have to see those alien teddy bears one more time I’m gonna gouge out my eyes with quarters.”

Eddie winced at the mental image that painted and jogged a little to keep up with her brisk pace toward the front doors. Robin pushed through them harshly and continued out into the waning sunshine of early fall.

Without turning back to face him, she asked, “And what’s your deal with Steve anyway, why do you keep bringing him up?”

Eddie, having finally caught up to her, only a little out of breath said, “Let me give you a ride, there’s something I need to pick your brain about.”

This, mercifully, made Robin pause. “If this is about whether or not Steve and I are dating, or sleeping together, or whatever, it’s a big fat ‘no’.”

Eddie shook his head. “Do you really think I’d stoop to the low of common high school gossip?”

Her eyes roamed over him, seemingly trying to sus out his ulterior motives, weighing them against the effort of walking all the way downtown.

Finally, she let out an exasperated groan. “Fine, but if any of your questions piss me off we ride the rest of the way in silence.”

Eddie agreed to her terms and led her across the parking lot to his van. Once they were settled in the front seat, Eddie practically flew out of the parking lot.

“Well, Munson,” Robin said through gritted teeth, knuckles white as she held the handle above the door, “what do you want to know?”

“Ok, most importantly, how do Henderson and Harrington even know each other, outside of, I guess, Dustin being friends with Wheeler and Harrington dating Wheeler’s sister?”

She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Aha! So this is about Steve! What’s your deal with him?”

Eddie held up a hand. “It’s not just about Harrington. It’s about how my newest lost sheep are keeping secrets and he seems to be at the center of them.”

Robin crossed her arms and sunk into her chair without responding.

Eddie glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Oh come on, Buckley, you really don’t think it’s weird that the head asshole of the school just suddenly starts hanging out with a bunch of middle school dweebs? One of whom, might I add, is his ex-girlfriend’s little brother?”

“Head asshole, two years ago,” Robin jabbed back, “You’re telling me you didn’t notice when he lost all his friends and only hung out with his ex and the guy she left him for? How Billy terrorized him just as much, if not more, than he and Tommy ever did to anyone else? Sure they were assholes and a general nuisance, but Steve never held someone down and punched them until they blacked out.”

When Eddie couldn’t come up with an answer quick enough, Robin barreled on. “You’re so intent on putting people you don’t like in little boxes so you can step on them like the lunch trays you’re always destroying,” she glared at him, now clearly genuinely angry instead of just playfully annoyed, “you of all people should know that sometimes there’s more to people than what you might assume just by looking at them.”

They were stopped at the same light that Eddie had had his original epiphany at and Robin seemed to deem the car ride over. Before Eddie could even process her words fully, she had slid out of the passenger seat and slammed the door as she marched toward the Family Video parking lot. Even after the light turned green, Eddie found himself watching Robin storm into the store, catching a glimpse of the man in question meeting her at the door and placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. When Harrington looked out the glass door and saw him, still idling in his van, Eddie punched the gas all the way to Jeff’s house.

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I’ve been going through old medical textbooks recently. Can you tell.

Prints

[callous-and-misunderstood]

the more girls you add to a story the more yuri situations you're able to produce.... something to consider

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wait i just realized. heterosexual women and men

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it’s always “why did you sacrifice yourself and leave me behind” and never How was the sacrifice Was sacrificing yourself fun it looked fun

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Hannibal (2013-2015) Season 2 Episode 8: Su-zakana

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2 genres of fanfiction:

1) put that guy into situations

2) take that guy OUT of situations for the love of GOD let them REST 

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Absolute Wonder Woman by Hayden Sherman

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Happy Star Wars Day! I’ve decided to make my Skywalker comic into one easily rebloggable post.

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happy may 4th

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Four of Swords. Art by Jesse Lonergan, from The Unveiled Tarot.