#UGH it's so fucking annoying

[lunar-years]

The JackKeeley story would have been vastly improved imo if they had actually used it as a mechanism to explore Keeley's headspace with both her 3-season cycle of crumbling relationships and her struggles with her job. Like, yeah Jack was definitely...something... as a character. Incredibly unlikable, obviously. A conservative elitist bitch who saw Keeley as someone she needed to hid to protect her own image, absolutely. Lauding Keeley around the office and showering her with gifts in this weird peacocking of their power imbalance, yes. And then to top it off she went and decided to victim blame her girlfriend after Keeley refused to do what Jack wanted her to do/"risked" Jack's precious reputation. All of which was completely gross, and it was unpleasant to watch, and I totally get why people hate it on that alone. BUT Jack was a Plot Device character, which I personally could probably have gone along with so long as she like...actually serviced an arc worth telling with a satisfying conclusion, anddd that's where the show lost me.

I think the writers sort of tried to do something interesting with it, what with showing how depressed and spiraling Keeley got after that breakup and maybe making half a reference to her abandonment issues and having her panic over the loss of her funding. But, rather than the end result being Keeley grasping hold of her own life and taking space to reexamine what she actually wants out of both her relationships and career, she... immediately falls back into old patterns (by sleeping with Roy despite not wanting to get back together with him just to feel something or whatever, which is then never explicitly addressed as a bad move or ill advised behavior) and gets her business back by...virtue of having a rich friend who can swoop in with several thousand pounds and fix all her problems (i cannot begin to tell you how much I loathed Rebecca fixing everything for her instead of Keeley finding her own path back). At the VERY LEAST I wish she had gotten the opportunity to process the things that had happened to her in that relationship and how damaged she clearly felt by it, lean on her friends for emotional support and healing (rather than having them pull out their wallets and immediately problem solved), and have an honest and frank conversation with Roy about how he, too, hurt her and his apology wasn't good enough and wasn't going to fix everything immediately. That's what Keeley deserved.

Which is all to say, I definitely did not enjoy Jack or the JackKeeley relationship, but I would've been willing to forgive a lot if including her had felt like...purposeful? Instead (like Zava & Shandy and a lot of things in s3 tbh) it just felt like she was taking up a bunch of screen time while not furthering Keeley (the main character we are all very invested in and actually care about) at all in her journey. Instead the show just kept kicking Keeley while she was down and then at the end everything was magically grand again with Keeley having next to no real agency in any of it. That's why keeley's s3 storyline was so damn bad (Jack included).

[thepunkmuppet]

HAPPY GERARD DAY HELLSITE!!!!!!!

YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!!

[mamawasatesttube]

i just think lois lane should put tim drake in her purse like a little dog. a scrunkly little companion who's even better at picking locks than she is, which is saying something. a nosy little freak after her own heart. the rubber duck she uses when talking her thoughts out loud to put clues together. her coffee gofer. her purse ferret.

[thebusylilbee]

like literally if you don't care about boycotting then fine you don't care, no one can force you and you're still a free human being live your life, just don't fucking act like a whiny baby when you see people actively trying to organize to put pressure on specific targets bc hum... IT'S NOT FUCKING ABOUT YOU THERE'S A WHOLE GENOCIDE HAPPENING YOU FREAK

[themintman]

the brainrot was hitting so I made a bunch of mcsm chars in the Sims and when I got to Nurm I miss clicked on one of his outfits and made him WAY more cunty than I intended but honestly it ate so I decided to work with it. Him and jack have me HOWLING

Jack and his gorgeous, beautiful, stunning husband. On their way to the same goddamn event.

[xenocorner]

Small sketch page of some of my marvel blorbos ;; Couldn't fit all of them in it nor had the time but hey I got the itch scratched kinda

[princessefemmelesbian]

Transandrophobia truthers are so damn racist and white oh my fucking god y'all actually piss me the fuck off every time you tokenize Black and brown men for your stupid as fuck "mra but make it trans-inclusive" ideology created by a creepy guy with a corrective rape fetish(something I'll never let up on for as long as I live, btw). If I ever see another one of y'all say "Black and brown men face discrimination because they're seen as overly masculine and that's why masculinity in men is oppressed in this society" I will literally kill myself. Stop using Black and brown men as brownie points for your bullshit arguments about misandry being real when you don't have the slightest idea how racialized oppression works. White boys are so annoying and dumb istfg.

@punkeropercyjackson @punknicodiangelo @pinkpinkstarlet

[skitskatdacat63]

And this too, is vettonso to me:

[riacte]

so hey guys i finished dungeon meshi yesterday and i'm still thinking about it

[ghosttotheparty]

if you'd let me want you

also on ao3 thank u @lunaraindrop for the help <3 cw: angst <3 arguing, brief panic attacks

“I’m just saying, man,” Eddie says lightly, leaning against the counter, watching Steve lift a box and set it on a cart. He lets himself watch. Steve isn’t looking at him. He can practically feel the ground shake as Steve rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “You guys make sense together.”

“Just because something makes sense doesn’t mean it…” Steve rips the box open. Eddie wills his face not to flush with heat. “Make sense.”

“That didn’t make sense.”

Steve shoots him a look.

“I don’t like Nancy like that anymore,” he says, almost grumbling. His mood shifted as soon as Eddie brought her up a few minutes ago. He smiled when Eddie showed up at Family Video, greeting him with a bright, “Hey!” but the second Eddie asked if he’s seen Nancy recently, the perpetual soft smile that lingered on his face faded and he looked away. His cheeks flushed pink. So Eddie doesn’t really believe him.

“You know I don’t believe you, right?”

Steve sends a look over at him. But it’s not really a look. He glares at him.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise as Steve looks away again, his stomach twisting.

“You don’t have to believe me, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice twinged with annoyance. “It doesn’t make it… not true.”

“Well, you get all uptight and stiff every time I bring her up,” Eddie says, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s defending himself.

“Yeah, maybe I just don’t wanna talk about my ex with you,” Steve says, his voice firmer, annoyed and slightly louder. Eddie’s chest tightens, and he furrows his brows, his breath caught in his chest.

“This is the kind of thing friends talk about,” he says defensively.

“Maybe I just wanna hang out with you without talking about my fucking love life,” Steve snaps, putting a tape up on a shelf a little too hard. Eddie blinks.

“Why are you pissed?”

“I’m not pissed.”

“You sound pissed. You look pissed.”

“I’m fine, Eddie,” Steve says, sounding even more pissed. “I just don’t wanna talk about it.”

Eddie has a problem. He’s had this problem his whole life.

“Why don’t you wanna talk about it?”

It’s gotten him in trouble before. Many times. At home, at school, with his friends, the assholes that shoved him around in the hallways, against lockers.

“You talk about it with Robin,” he says. “Why is it such a big deal to talk about it with me? What’s your problem?”

He pushes. And prods. And pokes. And annoys the fuck out of whoever he’s talking to, until—

“Jesus, Eddie, I don’t fucking know, just fuck off.”

Eddie stares at him as he looks up at him. His eyes are gleaming, his brows are furrowed, and his cheeks are red, and he looks angry, and for some fucking reason it just pisses Eddie off.

“I wanna help you,” he snaps. “I know you like her, and you guys would be perfect for each other, fuckin’ mister and missus America—”

“I don’t fucking like her,” Steve almost shouts, and Eddie almost flinches back, the volume making its way under his skin, pulling at him and making him ache.

“What’s your fucking deal, Harrington?” He matches his volume.

Steve recoils like Eddie’s slapped him across the face, his eyes wide, and he blinks, his shoulders falling.

“Don’t call me Harrington,” he says weakly. Eddie exhales, staring at him. “You never call me Harrington.”

The door opens across the store, the bell shoving it dinging brightly, and Robin greets them with a cheerful, “Hey, dinguses.”

Neither of them look away, their eyes locked, and Eddie barely even heard Robin’s tentative, “What’s going on?” Steve looks like he might cry, his cheeks still flushed, his eyes shining, and Eddie scoffs, shaking his head and tearing his eyes away from Steve, ignoring Robin and heading to the door. It slams shut behind him.

His hands are shaking as he fumbles with his keys, biting his trembling lip as he slides into the driver's seat, and he looks up into the store as he starts the van. Robin is looking at Steve, confused, still holding her bag in her hands, and Steve is covering his face, holding a tape before he shouts something Eddie can’t hear and throws the tape across the store.

Eddie’s vision swims and he pulls out of the parking lot without buckling his seat belt.

———————

He doesn’t see Steve for another four days.

He doesn’t really have to. It’s not like they tend to hang out every day. (Every other day, maybe. Sometimes more. But they don’t have a strict schedule, and Steve doesn’t come inside when he drops the kids off at Eddie’s for Hellfire on Thursday.)

Four whole days.

Is it pathetic that he misses him? Probably. It’s only four days, but Eddie feels hollow, like something is missing just because he hasn’t heard Steve’s voice.

Steve seems to feel the same way, which doesn’t really make Eddie feel better, even though his heart fucking soars when he opens the door to his apartment to find Steve standing there, his hair damp from the rain. He’s somehow looking up at Eddie despite being almost the exact same height as him.

“Hi,” Eddie says quietly, holding the door open. Steve rocks up onto his toes, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, and he glances past Eddie into the apartment.

“Is Wayne here?”

Eddie blinks, his heart falling, and Steve seems to notice it, because he hurriedly says, “I’m not— I just wanna talk to you, like, alone. I just… wanna make sure.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinks again. “No, he’s— he’s at work.”

“Okay.” Steve pauses, swallowing, swaying. “Can I… Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says after staring at him for a moment. “Yeah, come in.”

Steve exhales as he enters, pushing his hair back. His jacket is spotted with rain. Eddie forgot it was raining at all. He can’t hear rain much in this apartment. Unless it’s pouring.

“Talk,” Eddie says, heading into the kitchen. The kettle isn’t boiling yet, and he feels underdressed next to Steve, who’s wearing jeans and a tucked-in button-down, his jacket neatly pressed except for the rain. Eddie’s just in sweatpants and a grey sweater that’s two sizes too big.

“I, uhm.” Steve hesitates, taking a breath.

Eddie leans against the counter next to the stove, crossing his arms, looking up at him.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Steve says, leaning against the wall across from Eddie. It’s a small kitchen. Their feet are almost touching.

Eddie doesn’t say anything.

“I was…” Steve pauses, swallowing anxiously, his hands shifting in his pockets. “I was upset, and I lashed out at you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Eddie looks into his eyes. They’re shining again. They always are.

“I don’t get why you were upset,” Eddie says quietly, feeling like he’s confessing something. He often doesn’t get why people feel certain things. Why people get annoyed at him for the things he does when he isn’t hurting anyone. Why people laugh when there’s nothing to laugh about. Why people get upset when he tries to help them.

Especially with something like all this with Steve. He and Nancy would be perfect together. Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington. White picket fence and a soccer team of children and yearly vacations and everything someone like Eddie Munson could never have.

He hasn’t told anyone that he doesn’t understand what they’re feeling in a long time. The last few times he told them they’ve scoffed and rolled their eyes and accused him of lying to get away with being an asshole, even when he was so adamant he worked himself to tears.

But Steve doesn’t do any of those things. He looks at Eddie and believes him.

“I don’t like Nancy anymore,” Steve says. He sounds close to tears. “And it just… pissed me off that you just didn’t believe me.”

He must see the doubt on Eddie’s face.

“I don't like her anymore,” Steve says. “I swear.”

Eddie looks back and forth between his eyes.

“I see how you look at her, Steve,” he says softly, and he wants to go throw himself out the living room window. Because he sounds so desperate, so fucking honest, and Steve can probably see right into him.

“How do I look at her?” Steve asks desperately, his head tilting forward.

“Like she’s perfect,” Eddie says, his arms uncrossing. The kettle is starting to boil, the whistle low and quiet. “Like she’s fucking flawless, like she’s… the fucking sunset or something.”

“Eddie,” Steve says weakly, his shoulders slumping.

“I don’t get it,” Eddie says adamantly. The whistle is growing in pitch. “I don’t get why you don’t like her, she’s— she is perfect, she’s the one for you—”

“No, she’s not,” Steve says angrily.

He doesn’t even seem to notice the kettle whistling loudly, screeching at them, and Eddie huffs, turning away.

“Jesus,” he mutters, turning off the burner. “What do you want from me, Steve?” he asks, pulling the kettle off the burner, feeling it vibrate as it whistles.

“I don’t want anything from you, I want you.”

The kettle falls quiet.

The kitchen is silent.

Eddie blinks at the kettle, the words washing over him like cold water, and he almost drops the kettle as he sets it down heavily. It lands loudly on the stove, clattering on the burner, and he turns around to look at Steve.

Steve’s eyes are wide as he realises what he’s just said, and Eddie isn’t breathing, and he’s trembling, and Steve takes a sharp breath before he turns away.

Eddie reaches out and grabs his shirt, pulling him back.

Except he doesn’t do that.

He yells, at the top of his lungs, as loud as he can, I want you too. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

Except he doesn’t do that either.

Steve leaves, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Eddie lets him.

———————

Six days.

Six fucking empty days.

Wayne notices that something is off, but he doesn’t ask, because he knows Eddie won’t tell. If he were to ask, Eddie would probably just burst into tears, and Wayne had never known what to do when Eddie cries. It’s not like Grandpa Munson was a touchy-feely guy. Wayne’s always just brought him tea and tissues and given him a hug if he wanted one.

Eddie covers it up when the kids come over to the apartment to hang out. Lucas tells him he asked Steve if he wanted to come up to say hi, but that Steve has errands to run. Eddie just quips that Steve is a big boy, all old and mature. The kids laugh, living in their sweet, sweet ignorance.

When the kids aren’t over, and Corroded guys aren’t over, he’s holed up in his room, staring at the ceiling with his headphones on. (He can’t use his speakers anymore because of complaints from the neighbours.) Trying to let the music drown out the words that are bouncing around his skull like a pinball.

I want you. I want you. I want you.

On the seventh day, Robin calls him.

He doesn’t want to answer the phone, but he trudges up out of bed, pushing his hair out of his face. He’s still wearing the same sweater.

She tells him the Party’s having a movie night at Steve’s.

Eddie’s chest aches at the sound of Steve’s name.

You’re gonna be there, she says, because she seems to know how his brain works better than anyone else he’s met. You’re gonna be there gets him to change his sweater.

His eyes meet Steve’s when he goes inside, but they both look away, and Eddie immediately swerves to the other side of the living room, scooping El into his arms and cackling evilly when she screams his name.

Steve sits with Robin on the sofa. Eddie can tell Robin knows something is up, but he can also tell that Steve hasn’t told her anything because she glances at Eddie, then at Steve, and Steve ignores her, his eyes trained on Dustin as he argues with Will about something.

The lights shut off when the movie starts.

Steve leans against the armrest of the sofa, Robin leans against him, and Nancy leans against her. Jonathan and Argyle are on the floor, Jonathan’s head on Argyle’s shoulder. The kids are all on the floor, tangled and piled on top of each other like a litter of puppies.

Eddie doesn’t even know which movie is playing. He keeps looking at Steve.

He feels like his veins are filled with wax, his body tense and stiff and so anxious he’s shaking a little bit.

I want you.

Eddie looks over at him again, the words echoing in his head, in the exact cadence and emphasis that Steve spoke in, adamant and angry and desperate.

Steve’s eyes meet his across the room. They’re shining. Reflecting the flashing lights of the movie.

Eddie tilts his head, gesturing silently, weakly, toward the kitchen.

Steve inhales, his jaw working, and he sighs quietly, squeezing Robin’s arm and moving to get up. She looks up at him, then at Eddie, then at Nancy, moving so Steve can get up, pulling Nancy closer.

Eddie gets up quietly, stepping behind the sofa so he doesn’t get in anyone’s view of the movie before he follows Steve down the hall to the kitchen, shutting the door behind them.

Steve crosses his arms when he enters the kitchen like he’s protecting himself, looking sulky and upset and so small it makes Eddie want to cry. He leans against the island, looking at the floor, biting his lip, and Eddie steps to be in front of him, leaning against the wall.

They're both quiet. Eddie can almost hear the movie, muffled and quiet through the door and down the endless hallway. Eddie can almost hear his own heartbeat. He listens to Steve’s breath.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly, almost whispering.

Steve looks up at him, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie’s before he looks away, at the floor, his eyes moving like he’s looking for something.

“Steve,” Eddie says weakly when Steve doesn’t say anything. “Did you mean it?”

Steve takes a sharp breath, his lip trembling.

“Yes.”

Eddie exhales.

The floor is solid beneath his feet.

Holy shit.

He steps forward, looking at Steve’s face. His eyes are squeezed shut.

Eddie reaches up to his cheek, wiping away a tear, and Steve startles, his eyes flying open to look at Eddie, his eyes filled with tears, scared and desperate. He’s breathing hard, blinking.

“I want you too,” Eddie whispers.

“Don’t fuck with me right now, Eddie, please.” Steve’s voice squeaks, breaks and chokes, and Eddie reaches up to hold his face between his hands, wiping away the tears that fall from his eyes. Steve is gasping for breath, and Eddie presses a hand firmly against his chest as it rises and falls quickly.

“I’m not fucking with you, Stevie,” he murmurs. Steve’s hands grab at Eddie’s waist, gripping the fabric of his sweater. (This one is black.) He’s holding him too tightly, but Eddie doesn’t mind. “I want you, I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Steve closes his eyes hard, his brows furrowing as he pants, and Eddie leans close, pressing their foreheads together, murmuring to him. Breathe, Steve, slowly. You got it.

It takes a while for his breathing to slow, and Eddie slides his hand up his chest when it does, moving it up over the collar of his sweatshirt, over his neck, to his cheek.

“Why’d you push me to go with Nancy?” Steve chokes, blinking tears out of his eyes, and Eddie’s eyes burn, aching because he can’t explain it.

“I don’t…” He hesitates, shrugging weakly, holding Steve’s cheeks carefully, tenderly. He sighs, letting his head fall forward so their foreheads meet as he thinks. “Because boys like me don’t get things like this,” he says softly, quietly.

“Yes, they do,” Steve whispers.

Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut.

They’re quiet for a moment, sharing breaths, until Eddie slowly slides his hands across Steve’s neck, hugging him tightly, and Steve’s arms wrap around his waist, pulling him against himself harshly, strongly. A soft sound escapes Eddie’s throat, and his eyes burn more, and he buries his face in Steve’s neck as Steve’s shoulders shake.

Their friends are down the hall. Anyone could come in for chips or soda or water, and find them here, crying in each other’s arms, and the thought of the absurdity of it makes Eddie laugh. Steve’s hand slides over his back, holding him so tightly Eddie can barely breathe.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, burying a hand in Steve’s hair. “Holy shit, holy shit.”

“Eddie,” Steve says softly, pulling away and looking at him, and he lifts his hands to Eddie’s face, wiping his tears away so tenderly it just makes Eddie cry more.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut when Steve pulls at his face, pressing a hard, lingering kiss to his mouth, and when they part, Eddie gasps, opening his mouth for him and pulling him closer until Steve kisses him again.

Steve’s hands reach down and pull at Eddie’s legs, picking him up with unfair ease, and Eddie clutches at him desperately as Steve turns to set him on the counter. Eddie’s legs wrap around him tightly, whimpering when Steve’s hands press to his back and waist and his hips.

“‘M sorry,” Steve breathes between frenzied kisses. “‘M so sorry.”

“Me too,” Eddie says, panting. “I’m sorry, Stevie, just… I need…”

“Breathe,” Steve says weakly. Eddie closes his eyes. He didn’t even realise it, but he’s gasping for breath, each one getting caught in his throat, hiccupping and choking, and he grips Steve’s shoulders tightly, so hard it probably hurts, but he can’t let go, and Steve doesn’t say anything except, “Breathe.”

Eddie hugs him tightly, desperately, and Steve hugs him back just the same, pressing a hand to the small of his back. Eddie is swaying back and forth, which he doesn't realise until after a few seconds, and he stops himself. It makes people seasick, distracts them, he's heard it all, and he's just gotten Steve's arms around him. He doesn't want to mess this up.

But Steve tugs at his back, stepping closer to the island so his chest is pressed to Eddie, and he starts to sway. Eddie buries his face in Steve's neck, his eyes stinging, and he lets Steve move him, weight dropping off his shoulders, his breaths coming out easier and easier until he's breathing normally. They don't stop swaying together, rocking back and forth slowly, carefully, until Eddie lifts his head and touches his face. His skin is tacky with drying tears, the streaks shining in the dim light of the kitchen. Eddie wipes them away before he leans in and kisses him softly.

"Do you wanna go finish the movie?" Steve asks when they part, his lips still brushing Eddie's as he speaks.

"I don't even know what movie it is."

"Me either. Do you wanna go be confused together?"

"Yeah. That sounds nice."

They pause to sip at a glass of water together before they head back to the living room, their fingers laced. No one pays them any mind except Robin, whose eyes catch their hands, and she raises an eyebrow, smiling up at Steve as he sits next to her again. Robin moves, nudging Nancy so she shifts to lean against the opposite armrest, and Eddie squeezes in between Steve and Robin. Steves's arm makes its way around Eddie's shoulders as they look at the television. (Eddie can't even guess what's happening in the movie.)

Eddie closes his eyes, leaning against Steve, pressing his face into his chest, and he pulls one of his legs up, setting it across Steve's. Steve pulls him in closer, tighter, his cheek resting on Eddie's head.

Eddie shifts to face him, nuzzling into his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist, cuddling as closely and as tightly as he can as he takes a long, deep breath and exhales slowly. Steve smells like his cologne. Eddie wants to keep the smell. Maybe find it on his pillows.

He falls asleep to the sound of Steve's heartbeat.

[angelst4t]

soooo tired of seeing all these ‘I love big/fat boys😍’ posts and it’s with the most well hydrated average built man that probably hits the gym irregularly. think yall would shit yourselves at the type of men i lust and yearn for but whatverrrrrrr

[alluralater]

i hate when switches that are more dominant than me hit my line. like?? get away from me?? why do you wanna put me on my back so bad!!! stop being able to tell exactly what buttons to push!! stop it!!

[linterteatime]

Not to be rude, but I just read your bio, and did you not draw Chasriel nsfw? I checked and it seems as though you've gotten it taken off of e621 in the last few months, which is good, but I'm a little curious if you're hypocritical now and just trying to hide it, or you've stopped drawing such things entirely.

WTFFF BRUHHH I HAVE NEVER MADE NSFW IN MY LIFE!!! BUT ALSO CHASRIEL IS FUCKING GROSS!!!!! EWWW THOSE ARE SIBLINGS AND ALSO KIDS,,,,, WITH WHO TF ARE YOU CONFUSING ME WITH TOO???HUHH??? AND WHAT THE FUCK EVEN IS e621????

ALSO WHY ARE YOU CALLED LIKE THAT, IM NOT TURNING EVER ANON BACK ON IF IM GOING TO GET THINGS LIKE THIS LMAO

[emotionalcadaver]

How the fuck do you manage to fuck up B&C? It was literally handed to the writers on a silver platter in the book as an impactful scene, and instead they gave us THAT!?

[whoskimii]

who else is on their period so we can suffer together :(

[discoveredreality]

having a uterus is so shitty