#get gayed on idiot

[alittlemxchievous]

I’ve always considered myself straight but that photo is so hot

✨✨ I'm a girlfagthing, so its always kinda gay to think I'm hot. ✨✨

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

i vote that next year instead of reading Dracula we do a Jeeves & Wooster Book Club. those two never got the rabid tumblr shipping fandom they deserved (disqualified for the sheer technicality of being published a century too soon). we must correct this injustice

[hairmetal666]

Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.

Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.

He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.

"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.

He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?

Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.

He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.

Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.

Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.

Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.

Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.

"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."

Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."

Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"

Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.

"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."

"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."

"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."

"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.

"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.

"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."

They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.

"Working on new music?"

Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.

"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"

Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."

"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."

He grimaces. "That's a low bar."

"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.

"Shut-up."

"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."

"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"

"No, not at all. Just curious."

"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"

"Gossip," Eddie frowns.

"Anyone else you got your eye on?"

"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.

"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.

Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"

Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."

"Are you lonely?"

"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."

"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.

"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"

"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"

"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.

"The one that got away?"

"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."

Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"

"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"

"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."

Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.

"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."

"Wait, Steve--"

"See you around."

He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.

Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.

"Eddie, I don't--"

"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."

"What?"

"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."

"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?

"God, since 1986, at least."

Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"

"You're mine too," the words tumble out.

"What?"

"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."

"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"

"Pathetic gay yearning and all."

Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.

Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.

Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."

"It's been a decade!"

"Fuck," Eddie cackles.

They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.

"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.

Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"

"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."

"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"

Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."

Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."

[chio-chan2artbox]

They love each other so much ❤️❤️❤️

Got the inspiration from this post

[crayolascribblz]

i haven't gotten my package yet where the hell is the mailman

[bowiesawizardmoony]

i headcanon that reg gets really bad panic attacks and sirius use to try and help him calm down but nothing ever worked except to wait it out, but when james and reg started dating james found a way that worked to calm him down. he would hold reg to his chest so he could feel his heartbeat while telling him over and over again how loved he is and how beautiful and smart and he would tell him all the things he loved about him and even could the freckles across his cheeks and tap each one as he counted.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: "Sweetie, today I'm gonna show you the soothing power of... the mutual grapple and scream."

Charlie: "The what and what?"

Vaggie: "We can also call it the grab and yell."

Charlie: "Somehow that doesn't sound any more soothing."

Vaggie: "Trust me it'll be great."

Charlie: "I trust you... not your idea of what's mentally healthy or good all the time, but I do trust YOU."

Vaggie: "That works. So first, we start by standing and facing each other."

Charlie: "Okay!"

Vaggie: "Without getting lost in each other's eyes."

Charlie: "I'll try."

Vaggie: "Now- put your hands behind my neck and lace your fingers together."

Charlie: "Ohh~ Okay~~~"

Vaggie: "We're not gonna kiss, Charlie."

Charlie: "No?

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "I'm already not a huge fan of this maneuver thing."

Vaggie: "It gets better I promise. I'm gonna lock may arms around yours and get my hands behind your neck too-"

Charlie: "Are you SURE we can't kiss???"

Vaggie: "-and we're both gonna pull down, dragging each other into this headbutt. Got it?"

Charlie: "Got it." (pouts)

Vaggie: "What? Not comfortable?"

Charlie: "Perfectly comfy, but we're basically kissing already. I don't see how it'd ruin anything."

Vaggie: "How are we basically kissing."

Charlie: "Our cheeks are almost touching."

Vaggie: "Babe. Focus."

Charlie: "I'm trying but your pretty face is making it hard!"

Vaggie: "..I hate that we're friends with Angel Dust. I hate knowing what dumb jokes he'd crack about that."

Charlie: "Making me think of sex jokes just makes this harder!"

Vaggie: "I didn't say they'd be-"

Charlie: "It's Angel Dust of COURSE they'd be sex jokes!!!"

Vaggie: "Well we're not doing that either."

Charlie: "ARGH."

Vaggie: "Alright, you feel that rage? We're gonna channel that in a momment. So take a deep breath..."

Charlie: "EeeeeEEEEYUP-"

Vaggie: "And when you're ready...."

Charlie: "?"

Vaggie: "Scream."

Charlie: "-pWAHT? Right in your FACE?"

Vaggie: "I'll scream too. We're gonna be screaming buddies."

Charlie: "This helps with stress... how."

Vaggie: "Don't you ever just wanna go apeshit?"

Charlie: "No!"

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "Not at YOU!!!"

Vaggie: "It's not at me, it's with me."

Charlie: "I don't know, Vaggie..."

Vaggie: "Think of it like- kinda like singing. Only you're only doing it for yourself."

Charlie: "I DO sing just for myself!"

Vaggie: "And you still try to make it sound good and happy even when you don't have to and aren't feeling it. I know."

Charlie: "Well what makes screaming any better? It's almost always an angry or scared or upset sound, we hear it all day long down here and it's not fun!"

Vaggie: "People also scream when they're excited."

Charlie: "I get the feeling you want this to be an angry yell."

Vaggie: "A good angry. Yelling can feel REALLY good, babe, and doesn't have to hurt anyone."

Charlie: "Hmm."

Vaggie: "And, again, it'd make me very happy.

Charlie: "...I guess we can try it..."

Charlie: "IF I get a kiss right afterwards!"

Vaggie: "Yell and kiss? Never done that before."

Charlie: "What about when we-"

Vaggie: "Outside of bed and stuff, I mean. Ready?"

Charlie: "Deep breath and scream on three! ONE!" (deep breath)

Vaggie: "Two." (also deep breath)

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "...."

Chaggie: "......"

Chaggie: (bursts out laughing instead)

Charlie: "PFHAHA THAT WAS YOUR FAULT! You- you made a weird face at me!"

Vaggie: "I made a weird face because you made a weird face."

Charlie: "It was a glare!"

Vaggie: "How was that a glare?"

Charlie: "Because I was glaring!!"

Vaggie: "You were pouting at my lips with your cheeks puffed up."

Charlie: "I was TRYING to channel my rage at not kissing you into a good BIG angry yell!"

Vaggie: "Maybe you should channel it into a good gay kiss instead."

Charlie: "It's harder than it looks, okay! I- oh."

Charlie: "..."

Charlie: "Now THAT I can do."

[my-teeth-are-blue]

I’ve been informed that people on this platform would probably like my art so here we are, I guess. Not my finest work but I still like how it turned out :D

[dhmis-autism]

anyways. people started telling me abt the pilot bc of recent news and as is predictable. im obsessed with him

[robot-carl]

Reed900 art in the year of our lord 2023? It’s more likely than you’d think.

[innefableidiot]

Not having a great time

[urghblergh]

Hair studies that made me think of them growing old together. 🥹

[unfinishedslurs]

RIP Mike Wheeler’s heterosexuality

“Is being gay contagious?”

Steve stares at his phone groggily before putting it back against his ear. “…Mike?”

“Is it?”

“It’s three in the fuckin’ morning is what it is.” He rubs his nose, Mike’s words finally catching up to his brain. “Seriously, Mike? No it’s not fucking contagious, you’re not gonna get the gay disease or whatever from me. I promise you’ll keep liking girls.”

He’s a little hurt, even though he knows the question is innocent. They’ve been asking a lot of questions, like the inquisitive little assholes they are, but none of them had seemed like they weren’t okay with it. Until now.

“…that’s not what I meant,” Mike says. Steve realizes that his voice sounds shaky, even over the phone.

“Then what—“ he cuts himself off, realizing halfway through his bitching that there was only one reason Mike would call about this. “Oh.”

“Can you pick me up?”

“It’s three in the morning,” he repeats, even as he starts wondering where he left his keys. “Your mom…”

“Steve,” Mike pleads. “Please?”

He sighs. “I’m on my way.”

Mike is sitting on his doorstep when he pulls up, head in his hands. Steve doesn’t have to get out of the car, he stalks to the passenger door with all the vitriol of a boy with too many emotions to hold in, and wrenches the door open hard enough that Steve worries he’s going to break it.

“Watch it, noodle arms,” he says, trying to pretend this is normal. Maybe if he acts like it’s not well past midnight, Mike will relax.

It doesn’t work. Mike slumps in his seat, not bothering with the seatbelt. “Can you just drive?”

Steve drives. Doesn’t really know where they’re going, but it doesn’t matter. Just away seems to suffice.

He eventually pulls into a side road

“I’m scared to even touch another guy now! Because apparently hugging is gay when you’re older, and so is sleeping in the same bed, and telling your friends you love them, and…and I’m fucking scared all the time, ‘cause what if they’re right? How do they know? How can they tell by just fucking looking at me? It’s bullshit!”

“Shit, kid,” Steve says, heartbroken. “Shit. C’mere.”

He pulls him close, and Mike turns his face into the crook of his neck, shaking. His shirt collar starts to get damp.

“I don’t know what to do,” he cries. “I thought it was normal, I thought everyone was just…so scared all the time, and we just didn’t talk about it. But then you said that thing about being afraid and pushing it down, and I didn’t— I tried to ignore it. I tried so hard not to think about it, Steve, I swear I tried.”

“I know you did,” he says quietly. It hits him that he might be the only one who really gets it. Eddie gave up denying it long ago, deciding to evolve into something else for them to focus on. Robin’s a girl. Which doesn’t mean jack shit in most cases, because being a lesbian fucking sucks in a town like Hawkins, but girls aren’t as obsessive about it. Sometimes when they compare notes, Robin will just stare at him.

Mike shakes his head. “I don’t know what I did wrong,” he mumbles tearfully into his shoulder.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve says with a surprising amount of vehemence. He grabs Mike by his scrawny little shoulders, pulls him away so he can look directly into his bloodshot eyes. “Not a damn thing, do you hear me? There is nothing wrong with you, and anyone who tells you otherwise deserves a swift kick in the balls. Got it?”

Mike responds by bursting into loud, messy sobs.

Steve just keeps holding him, running a hand through his hair and soothing him gently, like he wishes someone had done for him or Robin or Eddie when they were young. Finally Mike pulls away, embarrassment starting to set in.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Steve asks instead of a meaningless platitude he knows Mike wouldn’t accept.

Mike gives him a suspicious look. “I guess.”

“I’m scared too. All the time.”

“No you’re not,” Mike snorts. “You don’t need to make me feel better just because I’m a pussy.”

“I’m not joking,” he says. “Why do you think I dated girls? Why do you think I went through so many lengths to hide it? It’s fucking terrifying, man. But you know what makes it less scary?”

“Dating girls? Marrying a woman?”

“No.” He pokes Mike’s chest, right over his heart. “People. Friends who love and accept you. Friends who know what you’re going through, even.”

“Do you…” Mike chews his lip. “Do you think Nancy would be okay with it? With me?”

“Absolutely I do. She was okay with me, wasn’t she? And I was her boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when it’s your family, right? Sometimes people don’t care if someone is… people don’t care until it affects them. Do you think Nancy is like that?”

He knows Nancy isn’t like that, but that's a talk they’re going to have to have themselves. “I really don’t,” he encourages. “I think she’d be really glad to know this part of you, actually. She loves you.”

“…I know,” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t… we made this dumb no secrets pact the first time the Upside-Down happened, I don’t know why. It’s stupid. But…I don’t want to keep secrets from her anymore.”

[mrblazeflappybird]

Those in favour of adding more A's to LBGTQIA+ so that we don't, for some reason, have three separate identities use one letter and constantly get forgotten by everyone?

[luna-di]

new gay hyper fixation dropped guys

(context: I binge watched venom and venom 2 over a international flight and now I'm a symbrock shipper) (the fact they released the trailer during pride month was no accident)

[cator99]

out of curiosity, would you consider yourself butch?

used to be a blonde underweight twink and now I'm a based jock still got the chanel bag and the sick albeit matured mind of a suckpig to prove it so I'm gonna let you decide whether you wanna call me that word just cuz I got a pussy and short hair. I promise you that there have been enough advancements made in the art of lesbian sexual dynamics in the past 50 years to broaden the vocabulary used to describe the plethora of types of masculine females.