#and an opportunity to be so annoying

[capn-twitchery]

twitch please mr fires just got blasted by the forbidden magic alphabet can you have some sympathy

(context: i haven't stopped thinking about this ingame thing still. what kind of fucking duo is this)

[bubbarnes]

attending fantastic fest 2024 - september 22, 2024

[clouvu]

Genshin catgirl yuri on the brain

[shannonsketches]

Anyway here's more of Vegeta's character arc continuing to be one of the best there ever was

[squishious]

haven't done a picrew in a moment but this one was just so cute! thanks @rosesau for the tag <3

tagging: @whoisthisboy @courfeyracs-swordcane @fruitlicense @upwardsonwards @ohgodohfuckidontknow @plangentia @applesandbannas747 @choysum @superhell @katabasiss @dreamertrilogys @h-isforhiatus @becomingicarus @cheribi @goodlwife @ramonapest @trinitea-fics @seavoice @epitaphes @star-will @sofhtie @bcy-divisicn @jestersofthemoons @tsnbrainrot @alonetogether and anyone else who wants to do it !

[erikahenningsen]

Rejanis idea that's been floating around my head if you want it: Gretchen shares her "Songs Regina Hates" playlist with Janis. Janis plays it whenever she wants to annoy Regina (often).

"Ew, what the fuck is this?"

"You've never heard 'Don't Stop Believin''?" Janis asks, a little incredulously.

Regina cuts her eyes to Janis briefly before turning back to the road. "Of course I've heard it. Why are we listening to it?"

"Do you not like it?"

"No. Change it."

Janis bites her lip to keep from laughing, and hits the skip button on her Spotify playlist—the one Gretchen had shared with Janis when Janis and Regina started dating so she would know what not to play around Regina. The one titled "Songs Regina Hates." The one Janis has been waiting for the precise right time to play.

There's some big accident on I-90, which has resulted in bumper-to-bumper traffic. They're going to be in this car for the foreseeable future, and they're barely moving, which means that, if necessary, Janis can open the door and roll out before Regina can kill her.

The opening notes of "Mambo No. 5" start playing and Regina visibly grinds her teeth.

"Next," Regina says shortly.

Dutifully, Janis skips to the next song: "Uptown Funk."

Regina turns to fully look at Janis, eyebrows knitted together and mouth tense. "What the fuck is this playlist?"

"Just some of my favorite songs," Janis replies, clenching the muscles in her stomach to keep from laughing.

"These are not your favorite songs, you hipster bitch," Regina shoots back.

"You don't know everything about me," Janis says.

Regina lets out a big sigh, like the fact that Janis is still alive and in Regina's presence is some enormously burdensome gift. "Just... change it."

"You got it," Janis says enthusiastically, hitting the skip button and letting Ed Sheeran's "Thinking Out Loud" play.

Before Janis can blink, Regina's hand shoots out and snatches Janis's phone out of her hand.

"Hey!" Janis protests, reaching for it.

Regina knocks her hand away. "Janis, stop. I'm driving."

"You took my phone," Janis says incredulously.

Regina ignores her, looking at the screen. "'Songs Regina Hates'? What the fuck is this? Are you so obsessed with me that you keep track of the music I don't like?"

"The only person obsessed with you is you," Janis says, grabbing the phone back.

"Says the person who texted me I can't stop thinking about you this morning," Regina replies, eyebrow raised.

"You've literally texted me the words I'm obsessed with you." Janis crosses her arms.

"I said I was obsessed with your boobs, not you."

In retaliation, Janis changes the song to "Old Town Road."

"Who the fuck made this?" Regina demands, reaching out to whack Janis on the arm without looking away from the road.

"I was sworn to secrecy," Janis insists, dodging the hit.

Regina narrows her eyes. "I'll find out."

It's probably meant to sound threatening—and it probably would be, to someone else—but Janis just rolls her eyes.

"Can we please listen to some normal music," Regina says exasperatedly.

"Okay," Janis says in a mock-defeated tone.

About ten seconds into "Lose Yourself" by Eminem, Regina reaches out and presses a few buttons on the console, disconnecting Janis's phone from the bluetooth.

"Hey!" Janis cries. "That's so rude."

Regina cuts her a withering look. "Second option was throwing your phone out the window."

Janis huffs out a breath, irritated despite the fact that she was deliberately annoying Regina for her own amusement.

Regina glances at her, looking amused. "Don't pout."

"I'm not pouting," Janis denies. "You're just mean to me."

Regina's smile morphs into something different, something almost... predatory.

"I'm not mean," Regina says. "In fact, I'm very generously going to give you a chance to make it up to me when we get home."

Janis frowns, confused. "Make what up to you?"

"Allegedly enjoying the worst songs known to humanity."

Janis snorts. "I'm sooo sorry."

Regina reaches over and places a possessive hand on Janis's leg, fingers digging into the inside of her thigh. It makes Janis shiver, and, judging by her smirk, Regina notices.

Regina gives Janis a look that makes little sparks zip down her spine.

"You better be."

[deadlydelicious]

Who the fuck were Lila's family? Her backstory in season 2 was that her parents are brits, but in this timeline she just has like 3 or 4 random american aunties and uncles and it's never explained? We're just expected to accept that she has this gaggle of family who are ready to babysit her plot device children.

And why are her and Allison the only one's who get other family members? it doesn't make sense and it feels like we were so cheated out of seeing the Hargreeves sruggle to fit in with whatever nuclear family dynamic this new timeline dumped them in

[aroaceleovaldez]

the “canon” fatal flaw that bugs me the most is that Nico’s is allegedly supposed to be “holding grudges” but LITERALLY EVERYTHING HE DOES SAYS OTHERWISE

the only instances we get of Nico even remotely doing anything with a “grudge” is him spontaneously, randomly, on rare occasion referencing being grumpy at something - THAT HE IS ENTIRELY VALID TO BE UPSET AT - and then does nothing with that. other than maybe continue to be vaguely grumpy about it and then drop it. In fact, Nico is consistently EXTREMELY forgiving to people despite him having perfectly valid reasons to not forgive them. Percy literally choked Nico and ditched him in the Underworld and Nico STILL brought Percy to the River Styx and faced off against Hades to bring THREE gods and an army of the undead to Percy’s aid, despite Hades actively suggesting alternatives to Nico and encouraging Nico to not do that.

Nico’s fatal flaw is so clearly either that he does not let go of things (not the same as holding grudges) OR that he’s far too willing to put others before himself, often directly putting himself at risk instead. He’s too self-sacrificial. He was explicitly willing to trade HIMSELF for Bianca and extremely resistant to letting go of her. He put himself on the line facing against Hades to help Percy MULTIPLE TIMES. He risked getting in trouble with the Underworld to bring back Hazel. He WILLING WENT INTO TARTARUS to try to close the Doors of Death himself. He offered to shadow-travel the Athena Parthenos for Reyna despite knowing it would most likely kill him. Etc. etc. The closest Nico has ever gotten to “holding a grudge” was being mad at Leo for faking his own death, and even then he was only Mildly Annoyed and got over it pretty quickly after Leo returned.

Nico “holding grudges” is a load of bull. Percy’s loyalty? Annabeth’s hubris? Absolutely true. Percy’s loyalty to Annabeth and Annabeth’s hubris are what got them pulled into Tartarus (also, interestingly - Percy’s hubris in TLO and Annabeth’s loyalty taking a knife for him is what nearly got them killed then). Nico, though? Nico’s willingness to put himself on the line for the sake of others is what nearly got him killed in BoTL and TLO and HoO and brought him to Tartarus multiple times, now! “Holding grudges,” yeah, right.

[angelsdean]

is it easier to understand why jensen gives neutral / vague statements re: dean's feelings / destiel reunion if it's framed like this:

imagine a work-in-progress series. the first part of the series is over but it left off with some things open-ended to be addressed in the sequel. some character arcs not complete. one of those arcs is dean's reciprocation and future reunion with cas. would you discuss the future plot points to your highly anticipated continuation and potentially spoil things for your audience or ruin a Big Reveal? or would you keep things as vague as possible and instead stick to discussing what already happened (like the confession scene). to discuss their reunion or dean's feelings in definitive statements would be to potentially spoil or word-of-god confirm things that are still to be explored in the future text of the show. misha can make definitive statements about cas's feelings and queerness because cas got that textual moment already. the kind of statements misha gets to make re: destiel are always going to be different from what jensen can say until we see these moments (dean reciprocation / destiel reunion / pale coconuts colliding) in the text. it's just like how when actors are asked abt what will happen in a new season they stay vague. don't spoil your WIP !!

[brainrotcharacters]

the next thing they'll be involved with, Logan will be drinking and gets told by a non-Wade "I'm here to save you from Deadpool" or some funny shit like that. Toss in a mention about incursions or Wade's 'higher purpose' having no place for Logan. Watch Logan laugh.

[verdantglow]

SmallEtho headcanon time let’s go.

When they are cuddling, Joel usually ends up tucked against Etho’s chest, with Etho’s chin on his head. It’s really mostly a matter of Etho being a tall gangly thing needing lots of space & Joel being, uh, more compact. But sometimes Joel decides this needs to be switched up. Of course, he doesn’t tell Etho that. He just sorta wriggles out of Etho’s grasp, scooches up the bed & pulls Etho into his chest.

Now, don’t get it wrong, Etho has no problem with this; it’s actually really endearing & he enjoys being held like that. However. It’s way way way more fun to annoy Joel. So he will escape Joel’s arms, scoot even higher up on the bed, & tug Joel back under his chin, saying nothing.

Naturally, Joel is annoyed & repeats the position change.

So Etho does it again.

& they sorta wind up spending the better part of half an hour just. Silently fighting over who gets to hold the other. Eventually they run out of bed & Joel’s neck is at a weird angle against the headboard & Etho will rotate them to face the other way & it just… continues, neither of them willing to stop or verbally acknowledge that this is happening.

Joel does this out of his stubborn need to assert his dominance (read: he just wants to hold Etho why the actual fuck can’t he just have this???). Etho just likes watching Joel get progressively more annoyed & listening to his little huffy noises of exasperation.

Eventually, they grow tired of the whole thing & they will relent. (Insert optional make outs here.)

In the end, Joel is happy to get to hold Etho in peace & Etho is delighted to be held, safe & secure, listening to his soulmate’s heart (even if it mean his feet are hanging well off the end of the bed).

[bearotonin-international]

Dear bear gods,

What are your thoughts on spirit bears? I find them to be quite interesting.

Sincerely,

A patron.

Hi friend. We know you are asking for our thoughts on spirit bears (they are great and we love them) but we must point you to the definition of patron

which would imply that we are financially profiting from your patronage. However Bearotonin International is an entirely free non-profit organization which makes zero money whatsoever. Therefore there can be no bearotonin patrons, as we have no supported monetary business model, we have only fellow bear loving friends

[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.

[skitskatdacat63]

"Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily."

+ process(tw blood)

Also, look at him, bloody little guy 🥹

This drawing was inspired by several matador pics :D here and here:

^ I don't think I'll ever live up to the second one ah. There's several pics of that specific guy just soaked with blood, and I'm uh a bit obsessed with then ITS FUCKED UP I KNOW OKAY! But I've not drawn blood in a while so it was a bit difficult so I added less than I would want to I guess. Also I'm obsessed with how often they kneel in bullfighting?? Like okay who are you arching your back and spreading your legs for-

[strangersatellites]

dustin making the comment one day, eyebrows furrowed and voice suspicious, “i thought that scar on your neck healed up already?”

steve’s hand flying up to his neck because it did. it did.

he flinches at the tender feeling and briefly wishes that eddie would spill something on his last clean pair of jeans. maybe that he sleeps through an alarm.

quick on his feet he rattles off something about “new laundry detergent. gave me a rash i guess.”

thinks that sounds better than the truth.

better than “that’s where my boyfriend squeezes his hand around my throat when we have sex.”

dustin doesn’t need to know that.

[karaspal]

it’s honestly such a shame how little kara and querl interacted on the show. and while, yes, i would’ve loved if they got together, even a strong friendship would’ve worked.

i think querl truly understood kara best. he came from a time and place where supergirl was an ideal people strived to emulate. and querl was one of the people her legacy deeply inspired. he changed his ways and became a better person because of her. he knew her as the legendary hero who inspired many first.

querl knew what supergirl meant to the world because he was one of the people she inspired. it’s what “she’s the example we all aspire to emulate” means.

but then querl met kara, the woman behind the legends. she’d smile at him during game nights, the same way she would smile at all her other friends. she’d talk to him about movies, how her day was, the weather - everything friends talk about. for a while, he was part of her family. she wasn’t an ideal anymore, she was his friend.

querl knew what kara meant to her family because he was part of it too. it’s what “she’s our beacon through the darkness” means.

while the rest of the world sees supergirl as an ideal and an inspiration, and the rest of kara’s family see her as kara, their friend who would always be there for them, querl sees both. because he knew supergirl first, and then he met kara. he knew the symbol of hope, then got the chance to meet the woman behind it. you can see the person behind the legend, but you can’t see the legend behind the person if that person is already close to you. and that’s the case for all the other people close to kara.

i’m not saying querl knows kara best because the people who know her best are alex and j’onn. but querl understands kara best - everything she is and stands for.

not only that, but querl is also an alien. so he could understand the kara zor-el part of her too. i’m telling you, that guy understood every part of her. they also had insane chemistry so there’s that too.

querl truly provided a unique perspective on who kara is to her core. the show is a fool for not doing a character study through his eyes because he was the only one who got the full picture.