cinema and scriptwriting peaked here
Im sorry but the mental image of someone's packer falling out of their pant leg is so funny to me. Hey king uh you dropped your dick
Imagine me dropping my dick and the having to look for it on all 4s like Velma searching for her glasses at the club
Joke's on you all my posts are flops. You'll never get me
Uh oh.
your brain is filled with eyes op
your posts are flops huh?? you know what else flops?? a dick to the ground
Behind every sign there's a story.
Every time Eddie steps into the college library now, he can't suppress a dirty grin, while Steve is torn between patting himself on the shoulder and dying of embarrassment.
(Maybe someone wants to make something out of this? 👀)
“Fuck, fuck, Steve,” Eddie hisses through his teeth, head knocking against the bookshelf as Steve hitches his thigh more firmly between Eddie’s legs. This is so messed up.
Eddie’s got one hand fisted in Steve’s polo shirt and the other death-gripping the book he’d been trying to grab for class. Some shitty, homophobic author that had made Eddie roll his eyes and made Steve shove his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and grind him into the shelf because ‘bet that guy would hate it if I did this then, huh?’
Revenge is a dish best served spitty, or whatever.
Steve pulls back with a heavy breath, lips all flushed, wicked glint in his eye. “Hey,” he smirks, walking his fingers down to Eddie’s belt. “Wanna know what would really piss him off?”
Steve sinks to his knees.
My controversial truth is that Robin is a top and Steve's a bottom.
Robin and Steve are at a party and they’re in the bathroom because they always pee together at parties and they’re both drunk and Robin’s all giggly and telling Steve about the date she had the night before and how she made the girl come afterwards and she was so sweet and made the cutest little noises when Robin went down on her and slid her fingers inside her, and then Steve tells her in return about how hot his own date was and how hard he fucked him when Steve invited him back to his and all the kinky shit he was saying to him as he railed Steve into his bed. And then someone knocks on the door to see if the bathroom’s free and Robin shrieks, “excuse ME, WE’RE HAVING A VERY IMPORTANT BUSINESS MEETING IN HERE”
Today I introduced my sister to “the problem of Susan” and I had to explain to her that Susan was left out of Narnia cuz she liked boys and lipstick now and without missing a beat she said but what about Peter? Does Peter not like girls? And I knew she was pointing out the inherent misogyny at the center of the “the problem of Susan” but the implications of that question are a source of much hilarity to meeee LMFAO like Does Peter not like girls? Does he like boys? Is he Gay? Is Narnia really just a homo-utopia where Lucy is also a lesbian and Edmund is a bisexual disaster and Susan was kicked out cuz she was too straight??? Can I make CS Lewis turn over in his grave with this new reading?
…I mean they literally were in the closet…
THEY WERE LITERALLY IN THE CLOSET!!!
Reblog to make C.S. Lewis turn over in his grave
TBH, once the nuances were explained to him, I think he’d find it quite funny.
Steve and Eddie go to pick up Robin and she isn't ready so they wait in her house. Her parents aren't home so Eddie plunks himself down at their piano and starts plucking out little tunes. he isn't a piano player by any means but he can play twinkle twinkle little star, damnit.
Steve just shakes his head and says "scoot" and Eddie slides to the end of the bench so they can share it. Steve puts both hands on the piano and plays some tentative chords before making a little noise of affirmation and starting to play some wildly beautiful song.
Robin, who has heard Steve play before, actually really loves it and finds it very soothing, comes around the corner and just grins because Eddie is sitting there staring back and forth between Steve's face and his hands with the most awed expression. Steve is doing a pretty good job of staying neutral but Robin can see his lips pulling up just slightly onto a smirk on her side of his face.
She might have to make a new "You suck" board just to put a tally under "you rule."
Kas Eddie wouldn't remember that Steve was an asshole in high school and he wouldn't care about popularity, he'd just see Steve as he is; the pretty guy doing everything he can to help his friends, no matter the cost to himself
this got me feeling some kind of way so i did a very quick drabble
He does not know this place. It is warm, the sensation foreign to his skin. It is vibrant, He can see so much colour here.
He was ordered to maim, to murder, to massacre.
But there is life here, life he yearns to touch and hold gently.
He watches from the shadows, under the guise of nightfall, watches as a large vehicle comes down the path, light bursting out of it like an omen. He watches as people come out of the vehicle, dressed in green armour, arms stacked with weapons fit for war.
So much colour.
Someone tall steps out, and another someone stays close to them. Both carry a weight to their shoulders the others do not, the same expression of determination and exhaustion that leaks out of their blood as if the only thing keeping them standing was each other.
"Ready to kick some demogorgon ass, Robs?"
"Pfft, you kidding? Of course I'm not, Steve, I've never even seen -"
Robs speaks quickly but Steve has no trouble keeping up with her pace.
He follows them, uses the shadows to guide his path, keeps silent and watchful.
Robs smells of fear and courage together, of fires blazed and loves lost and palatable grief. She does not lose focus, does not let her gaze stray away from the trees that surround them all. Any sound alerts her, has her ready to cut down with a glare.
Steve smells of venom, of the same venom he has in his own body, of his world. He has to hold back from grabbing the man and inhaling that familiar scent, of asking him why, why do you smell of Us, who are you?
They stop when something in the trees move and the moonlight basks them in itself, twisting and turning on them, around them, like a barrier that He cannot break.
He wants to.
He wants to break it.
But no, not yet. He is watchful.
He watches them patrol the woods. He watches Steve pull Robs closer when a beast runs out at them. He watches them take it out in synchrony.
He watches when Steve keeps to Robs' injured side, where blood rushes to form a bruise under her skin. His own bruises go ignored, open to the world's claws, so easy to pinpoint and target.
He does not touch yet.
The people make their way back to the vehicle as others arrive, and He follows the two that catch His eye, follows them to a house that is big and warm and glowing in the shadows.
Someone is already out of the house greeting them, a small someone, with curls and a limp. His instincts say injured, they ask prey, they scream no.
"Dustin Henderson, get your ass back inside right now!"
Dustin, He thinks, has a tone. He does not know what it means, but it sends a familiar wave through His unbroken bones.
"Yeah, yeah, ya little shit."
Steve's voice carries the same wave, He thinks. It is called...
Fondness.
He watches them enter the warmth, scrambling to get closer, stay hidden, to know them.
He watches Dustin limp towards more people, drop into a seat between them. He watches Steve wrap Robin's bruises and croon softly when she hisses. He watches as they speak, sharing their voices with the other people.
They sound tired.
Eventually they start to rest and he has to leave, to investigate more, but the view of the warm house, full of life, is carved into the back of his eyelids, He cannot escape its glow.
He comes back some nights, watching.
He watches Steve attempt to feed the group of small someones, calling out and whistling and clapping his hands together, giving each one eight, nine, ten handfuls to consume, and then eat his own pitiful three handfuls.
He watches Steve gently help them move across the room when they're tired (prey, His instincts insist, but He does not know, He does not know) and stand tall until every someone has closed their eyes and then his shoulders drop and his blood is weary.
He watches him speak softly to his people, with gentle touches and sweet words and lovely smiles, after they awaken wailing, blood rushing, eyes watering.
One night, He watches as Steve awakens, staring upwards, his blood rushing, eyes empty. There are no cries, no sweet words, no lovely smiles. There is only moments of frozen bones, before moments of a deep breath, before he turns on to his side and goes back to resting. The moon creeps in to light up his back as He stares.
And He finds Himself staring often. At his face, his hair, his arms, his laugh, his grunts, his raised brow.
When Steve steps in to block a bite, to push away claws, to strike an enemy.
When he hides a wound, brushes off concern, distracts with a laugh.
When he looks up at the moon, at the clouds, at Him.
Because he sees Him and he does not scream, does not cry, does not fight. He is left in wonder as he pulls Him along, muttering to himself, "Can't believe I'm fucking doing this, and it's not for you, or for me, it's for Henderson, alright, so let's make sure you're not gonna kill anybody because -" and He feels warmth on his arm for the first time.
He thinks, oh, so this is life. This is Steve.
Eddie posts a Tiktok one night from the air mattress him and Steve are sleeping on in Wayne’s living room. It is late. It is dark.
Eddie looks unimpressed at the camera because he went to bed on a pretty firm mattress and woke up during the slow slide to Steve.
He pans the camera over to Steve and his side is practically deflated. He’s pretty much sleeping on the floor at this point so Eddie pans the camera back to him and says, “Think there might be a hole in this air mattress, y’all.”
Steve shifts in his sleep and Eddie slides a little more towards him before he adds, “You know that 50 Cent tweet about his grandma making him take the trash out? That’s how I’m feelin’ right now.”
“Cause this is bullshit. The couch fucks up my back. Why am I not at a hotel?” He mutters to himself, sliding the rest of the way down and flopping on top of Steve. “I have two Grammys.”
Falling on top of him woke Steve up just enough for Eddie to get him up and moving, “C’mon, baby, on your feet. Let’s go. We’re bunking up with Wayne tonight.”
Steve, who will not remember this conversation in the morning and is going to wake up confused, just lets Eddie guide him into the bedroom like, “Kay.”
The Corroded Coffin guys could always count on Eddie to write hardcore songs full of angst, songs that could make anyone feel something. It’s what made them such a hit to the drunks at The Hideout. After everything that happened over Spring Break, allegedly or otherwise, they expected to bear witness to the angstiest songs they could imagine. They thought they would hear tunes wrought with betrayal, heartache, pain, and anger.
Imagine their surprise when they came back to practice to a bunch of love songs.
Gareth could only stare at Eddie blankly while he demonstrated the new song on his guitar. He didn’t know what the hell he was hearing. Grant was glaring at the Warlock like the soft notes had personally offended him. Jeff was nodding along sagely to the beat of the music, always an ally to Eddie even when he was confused at the situation.
And Steve Harrington, the newest addition to join band practice, was sat in a metal folding chair looking at Eddie like he hung the stars. He’d never been serenaded before and the fact that it was Eddie doing it? It only made Steve love him even more.
Is it just me or are we all sleeping on the super fucked up homoerotic wound care that could come from the group of them dropping back into the Rightside-Up, going to Max's trailer and Steve's still bleeding out because look at him.
And everyone's quizzing everyone else, mainly the girls because it's the 80's and casual sexism was everywhere, on whether they know how to sew.
Nancy never learned, Robin doesn't trust herself and Max is just straight up like fuck off.
And then there's Eddie Handmade Battle Vest, Drug Dealer, Dive Bar Guitarist Munson like
🖐️😐
Enter the ✨ shenanigans ✨
emily: must be hard not being able to laugh
hotch: i do have a sense of humor you know
emily: i’ve never heard you laugh before
hotch: i’ve never heard you say anything funny
If Elle and Emily met
Emily: Elle, can we talk - one ten to another?
Elle: You’re an eleven, but continue.
i will never get over how elle would always listen to spencer and hang off his every word in situations most people would tell him to stop but she enjoyed his ramblings and encouraged it, made him feel special and appreciated.
look at this bitch. literally in love with spencer reid and his amazing mind.
Spencer is blue
Elle is grey
I'm this 🤏🏽 close to start writing Spencer n Elle one shot where they reconnect in his hot professor era, cuz she's in his class or smthing. If they won't give me Spencelle, imma give it to me myself (I'm in my delusional era).
i just wanna talk about how this
was Spencer's reaction to Elle saying "Reid, do not ever go away again"
anyway ship reidaway or ur life will be filled with sadness
tagging my fellow spencelle/reidaway bestie @radiant-reid bc i feel like you'll enjoy this kind of content
full offense but reidaway / spencelle had more chemistry in one season than jeid did in 15
