#The ache is real

[denimoverall]

I just feel like there are so many people on this website who aren’t aware that the howling void they feel inside themselves is because they haven’t seen Battlestar Galactica and I just feel so bad for all of them

[13dps]

Michael Dickman, (2011), Copper Canyon Press, Killing Flies, Flies

[insomniamademedothis]

The girl, so confusing version with lorde is literally all I’m gonna think talk or write about for the foreseeable future apologies to everyone in advance if you hate to see women overcome the societal pressure to compete and compare within false forced friendships of convenience, by opening up to their genuine vulnerabilities and forging a new authentic friendship outside of their previous confines

[ilostyou]

last kiss // the black dog

[solargeist]

I love how over time kid xelqua has become less just baby grian and more grian's kid who he found in the woods/somehow created and now the kid represents all of grian's childhood trauma and Catholic guilt and grian is just trying to break the cycle bc there's this magic fucking baby who is the best thing in the world

JKAGJKD yes Exactly, see evo Grian has a lot of family issues, from being an orphan, to the Watchers, he has ISSUES, so raising a version of himself is..... definitely odd, but weirdly healing.. He sees how he was as a kid, he wasn't that bad, he was just a kid ! He didn't deserve to be abandoned or anything. He sees all of his ache in Xelqua, he's very much breaking the cycle.

[mumbo: You alright mate, you have that look in your eyes. grian: no yeah--i'm good, i just.... its easy to raise him, y'know ? i mean, i know he's literally me, but.. it makes me wonder about my own parents--before the watchers, if i was anything like him, i don't know why they left] (-me)

[vamptits]

hey listen to this normal track

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 05/08 // ‘Please Please Please, Let Me Get What I Want’ by The Smiths

wc: 2.2k // rating: M // cw: language, negative self talk // tags: YEARNING, post-s4 but vecna dies, eddie has some self-esteem issues, mild references to sexual content

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie isn’t sure when it started. When this… obsession took over his life. When he suddenly couldn’t think of anything but Steve Harrington.

It could have been when they started hanging out every day, the threat of otherworldly horrors gone and the Big Evil defeated. When they realised that while they don’t necessarily have much in common, they both care to learn about what the other likes.

It could have started before that, when Steve continually showed up to help him through his physical therapy, never wavering in his kindness despite how many times Eddie snapped in frustration or lashed out at him. Steve always took it in stride, but never patronised him. Or was it even before that? When Steve showed up everyday to his bedside in the hospital, at first appearing to just be chauffeuring Dustin, but then visiting on his own. Spending hours talking with him or letting the silence settle between them, filling the hours where Wayne couldn’t be there.

Shit, if Eddie really thought about it, it went further back than that too. Before Steve carried him out of hell and quite literally saved his life—though that alone was enough to make a guy swoon—and before the moment Eddie flirted with him in the RV (and really, what was he thinking with that?) and even before their little heart to heart in the aforementioned hell after the first bat attack.

No, if Eddie was honest with himself, it all went back to Steve’s surprise appearance in the boathouse, shoved up against the wall with a shard of glass pressed to his neck and fear in his eyes. Eddie remembers feeling Steve tremble as Eddie held tight to his jacket, watching as he swallowed, skin of his throat pressing against the glass. Eddie’s own hands shook around the broken bottle, from exertion and fear, and god help him he was not going down without a fight in that moment. Their all too literal colliding of worlds was not something he could have been prepared for, nevermind the fact that Eddie almost killed him. But it was that brief moment, so miniscule, right before Eddie let him go, that he realised Steve really wouldn’t hurt him. Despite being held up and almost having his throat slashed, Steve had dropped the oar.

It was the first hint he got that all those things Dustin had said about Steve were actually true. That all the ideas he’d previously had about Steve Harrington were undeniably false. And Eddie only continued to be proven wrong by the sheer magnitude of Steve’s kindness, his patience, his unending love for his friends. Which now, by some miracle, Eddie was a part of.

It had grown. Out of something that should have just been a trauma-bond that then dissolved once they were quote-unquote healed and realised they actually had nothing in common besides the shared experience of almost dying in an otherworldly dimension. It had grown into something much more than that, something that Eddie never really had before. He’d had friends before, sure, his little sheepies and his band mates, but nothing quite like this. It was both his fault and also not. When he arrived in middle school and was immediately bullied for daring to be a little bit different—despite the differences having more to do with his class status than anything he had truly picked at that time—the walls came up. People could get somewhat close to him, but ultimately Eddie decided just how much he would give to people, and arms length was always safest. They wouldn’t be able to hurt him at arms length.

And yet. Steve Harrington had somehow wormed himself past the walls, beyond the arms length barrier, and settled himself neatly within Eddie’s rib cage. Not only that, Steve brought along the rest of his little group, a family that knocked down Eddie’s walls and forged a space just for him. It went beyond the trauma bond. It had grown into something that almost felt like Steve cared about him. Actually, that wasn’t fair. Steve absolutely did care about Eddie. He’d shown it time and time again. Shown up and held tight and given his time and space and love, being the kind of best friend Eddie only dreamed of having.

And here he was, greedy. Desperately craving more. More of the connection, more of the love —platonic though it is—more of which he has already been given. Arguably he’s received far more than he ever thought he deserved (despite what his new friends might say). But Eddie can’t help it.

He wants. He craves.

He fucking aches for it.

It grips him in a chokehold, this desperation with which he begs to receive more. To have more. To be more. It wasn’t enough to have Steve’s friendship, Eddie wanted his whole heart. His whole soul, even. Every tiny speck of stardust that came together to create him, Eddie wanted it in his possession. Wanted it all to himself, to hoard like a dragon’s greatest treasure. To lock this man away and keep him safe and shower him with love and devotion every day for the rest of his life. He longed for it to the point of feeling more animal than man, a slave to his own desires. Helpless against his own hunger for a connection that would run bone deep between them, etched into his skull, woven into his blood. Eddie burned to fucking consume Steve Harrington and be consumed by him. To have their souls merge together in a supernova and, and, and…

And nothing. Because it would never happen. Not for Eddie, not the way that he wants it to. He reminds himself constantly that he should just be grateful to have the friendship, to cherish it for the special thing that it is. That guys like Steve Harrington didn’t want guys like Eddie Munson, at least not in that way. Not in the way Eddie wanted, because Eddie never got what he wanted.

Well, not never. But rarely. When he goes down this spiral, he struggles to remember times he has actually gotten what he wanted. In love, in romance? Never. Kisses—too fast, too hard, too scared—shared with boys who met him behind the bleachers and didn’t know what they wanted. Or rather, did know but wished they didn’t. Those that ended in the boys running away, or worse, threatening to hit him—to kill him—if Eddie dared to speak about what happened. Not that anyone would believe a jock would ever turn to Eddie The Freak Munson, even as an experiment. That’s all he ever was when he was younger, an experiment. It was all he thought he deserved, at least until he got a bit older and was able to venture out of Hawkins. Then came other stuff. Quick, filthy hookups in club bathrooms and dark alleyways in Indy. A stranger’s tongue in his mouth and their hands in each other’s pants and maybe their mouths on each other and the flash of a smile before leaving and he’d never see them again. It was fine. He got what he set out for in those moments, but nothing more. He never felt like he was owed more, never felt worthy of more, so why would anyone give him that? At least they didn’t end in threats of violence. At least he felt desired, somewhat. But, if given the chance, he’d trade all those experiences for one night of feeling like he was the prize, like he was the one worth fighting for, like someone wanted his heart.

And the craziest part was… sometimes he did feel that way. Sometimes Steve made him feel that way. Like Eddie was the most special person on the planet. Like no one else could draw his attention away. Like they were the only two people in the world. Like Steve could actually…

No. It wasn’t like that. Eddie had to remind himself endlessly. It wasn’t like that. This love wasn’t reserved just for Eddie, who watched Steve share it with all of them. When he picked up Dustin to take him wherever he wanted to go, despite the squabbling they shared. The way he and Robin seemed to read each other's minds, attached at the hip whenever possible. How he helped Max after she got out of the hospital, ready to drop everything at a second’s notice if she needed him. Spending afternoons training basketball with Lucas, giving him all of his tips and shining with pride at his skills.

Still… there was something. Something in the way Steve’s eyes lit up whenever Eddie arrived. Something in the way he was almost always too close, fingers brushing as beers were passed, arms and legs pressed against each other during movie nights, arms held tight when nightmares returned, and one glorious evening of warm cuddling and dreamless sleep after sharing a joint. Eddie lived in those moments, let them play on an endless loop in his mind, reading deep into each tiny interaction. Thinking about every smile sent his way and was it any different from the smiles anyone else got? God, he wanted to believe Steve had a special one just for him. One that was a little bit softer and sweeter and shyer.

The idea is nice, but it’s washed away by the cold reality of the fact that it would never happen. Even if, by some miracle, Steve was anything other than straight, why would he want Eddie? He could have anyone he wanted. And Eddie wouldn’t get what he wanted because that’s just how life was for him. Though he may beg and plead with invisible entities for it, though he might crave and ache to the point of feeling feral with it, though he might promise—swear on his life—to himself and anyone up there listening that he’d treat Steve so well if given the chance, Eddie knew it just wasn’t on the cards. The sooner he accepted that the better.

His resolve in place—forget about it, or at least bury it until it could be forgotten—Eddie makes his way up the driveway to the Harrington house. He wouldn’t think about it for the entirety of movie night. He absolutely would not.

“Hey, man!” Steve answers the door with a perfect smile and joy in his eyes. Eddie’s resolve wobbles. “Just in time.”

Eddie takes a moment to steel himself, firmly reminding himself of his goal, as he follows Steve into the house. And it lasts for all of two minutes before he’s pulled down onto the sofa, thigh pressed against Steve’s. Was there truly any reason for Eddie to be tortured this way? He tries to remember that Robin is on the other side of Steve, and that there’s limited room on the sofa but fucking hell… Their shoulders brush, the soft grazes through layers of fabric sending Eddie’s mind spinning, until Steve places his arm around behind Eddie on the sofa-back, not quite touching but close enough to feel the heat of his skin. And god, this is so much worse. The desire to lean in and cuddle him, just nestle right in and have Steve’s arm around him, drives him crazy. The idea that they could… that this could be normal for them, domestic even. It went beyond the physical, Eddie wanted to take care of him. To show him the love Steve had so willingly given to him, and give it back ten-fold, hundred-fold. To create a life with him. To be proud of him and show him off and love him endlessly. To go to the ends of the earth to grant Steve his every wish, if he could just have one chance, he was begging—

Get it together! Eddie’s internal voice hisses at him, and he tries to shove all his thoughts back down into a vault, feeling a bit like trying to get water back into a broken hydrant. He does his best, managing to get it back down to a simmer, rather than a rapid boil.

Steve shifts slightly, suddenly a bit closer. It all comes rushing back. The warmth where their thighs are touching becomes burning hot and all the aching, craving, yearning, wanting that Eddie tried to shove down and out of his mind is suddenly front and centre and focused on the way Steve laughs and those glorious moles dotting down his neck. He feels insane with longing, desperate to press his lips to those moles, as if that could ever convey the depth of his feelings for the man beside him. Overcome with the need to drag his fingers through that beautiful hair and maybe even pull on it a little, just to see what kind of noise Steve makes, Eddie hears the tiny voice in his mind telling him off for staring. He just can’t seem to drag his eyes away. Steve throws his head back with a laugh, exposing his throat, and Eddie might as well perish right then and there, distraught with how much he wants to bite it. To just sink his teeth into the skin and feel Steve’s pulse beneath with his tongue. To leave bites and bruises all over his body, everywhere Eddie thinks is beautiful…

Before he can summon enough shame to look away, Steve catches his eye, and just grins, eyes lit up with that same brightness he always seems to have when looking at him.

Eddie’s a fucking goner.

[theghostofashton]

i feel like some have already talked about this but i really love the subtle ways the episode showed how carlos isn't doing well. like, on paper, everything looks great. he solved the case he was working on, he's making time for lunch dates with his husband, things are falling into place.

and then we see that he's working late a lot. it's become a pattern of him forgetting about dinner and just managing from a vending machine. he's looking at that picture of his dad every time he opens the file for his case. he's still hurting so much, and carrying such a heavy weight on his shoulders, and so much of that is conveyed in just these little details and rafa's expressions, it's so good

[stationk17]

trying to find comfort in something you don't remember

[Image description: digital art of Taako from The Adventure Zone. He's seated beneath the Umbra Staff, frowning slightly. He conjures a plume of vaguely hand shaped fire from his finger, with an almost lazy gesture. Taako is a slender elf, with light brown skin and a very long blond braid. He wears a wizard hat with a star pattern, purple eyeshadow, and laced-up boots. End ID.]

[dent-de-leon]

You know how Mollymauk will stack the deck when he’s turning cards?? How he’ll use little tricks and sleight of hand to make sure fortunes fall in a person’s favor? But then, how he also tells Jester under Zone of Truth, “I use fortunes to tell people what I see in them. But sometimes, sometimes…I feel like there’s something that tickles the back of my head, I will admit.”

“You have a feeling?” “Some days—”

Thinking about those little moments when he’s manipulating the deck, but still feels a certain pull toward something. And given that Lucien is fate touched…I like the idea that whenever Molly’s turning cards, he’s subtly pulling at those threads of fate, actually changing a person’s fortune.

Thinking about how Molly gave Yasha a four leaf clover so that she’d have a little luck. So that she’d find happiness and feel loved. And she was—

[fallen-mario-bros-au]

Decided to play around with the designs for fallen Mario and Luigi. Their personalities are the same, although mostly based off the Mario and Luigi games, which is why the letters on their hats are black. Their sweaters were also important. You can't be a fallen human without a cute sweater. Both got a bit scuffed up when they fell, but thankfully they weren't injured or anything.

I also wanted to play around with soul colors because I had no idea what I was gonna do with those. Ultimately, I decided to keep them red and green so they could be easily distinguished, but Mario has a more orange red for determination + bravery (and as a reference to the Firebrand) while Luigi's is more of a teal-ish green to reference kindness + patience and also his iconic Thunderhand. I was really worried about using the same colors on top of their clothes but after playing around with the lighting I decided I really liked the look.

But yeah I feel like it fits them pretty well! Lemme know what y'all think!

[feelingsyouwontget]

I've never felt so loved by anyone until you,

I've never felt so unloved by anyone until you.

[so-much-longing]

Girl help I'm drawing parallels between myself and Neil Perry from Dead Poets Society :(

[lousydrawingsforgoodpeople]

[tornblackedgcs]

there was a small nod at the unfair bit. it had been unfair for all of them. for all of their families. it was one of the reasons charlie felt a little worse about crying. all of them and their loved ones were going through something like this, something similar in one way or another. why did he get to weep over it when there were things to get done? so a moment away. so no one could see it. well, no one but jackie. the two of them had shared more and more moments like this lately, it was hard to imagine them without her.

"god, those poor other parents-" a ghost of a chuckle from charlie. "dealing with my dad? those jokes and lessons from him? yikes." another chuckle followed jackie's joke, louder and more earnest.

the punk boy raised an eyebrow. "you're echoing me from months ago; glad i could get through to you," he pointed out and turned more properly to the girl. dark eyes lingered on her for a few seconds. "maybe...bold? i don't know. but you've made all of this-" arms up around them, "so much easier. sucks we didn't speak before being stranded, but i'm glad you're here. with us. with me."

jackie threw him a look, a chuckle leaving her throat as she shook her head. she didn't consider herself witty enough to keep up with his teasing, usually just ended up getting bashful or some shit. something nobody really ever made her feel -- especially not JEFF. poor jeff, though. she wondered how he was faring out in the world. probably missing shauna more than he would ever miss her, she thought to herself and she waited for that realization to HURT. but, the pain never came.

at the mention of his dead, her smile softened and she took a step towards him. never to touch, never wanting to overwhelm -- just to signal, 'hey. i'm here' or SOMETHING like that. comfort was supposed to be her thing, so why did she feel so bad at it most of the time? "this is all pretty unfair from all angles," jackie pointed out with a shrug, arms crossing over her chest. "i like to think that all of our parents had to get together, right? every single one of us had families that LOST us -- even families we don't even like that much." she thought of her mother, brutal and judgmental and the source of almost every single anxiety jackie has accrued over the years. "they have to be supporting each other, right? some 'we lost our kids in a dumb plane crash and all we got were these stupid t-shirts' club?" a joke. she was TRYING.

"we're gonna get out of here. i don't know, like, when or how or whatever but... i just know it."

[idontchara]

thank you hoyo for giving me the chance to third wheel on the husbands' date crime stopping adventure