Eddie Munson's Missing Nipple

Eddie loves TSO truther any pronouns -- i am an adult minors dni also miners dni unless you want to discuss anthracite's economic impacts in the early to mid 20th century

[shanebug]

me a lesbian trying to explain how i love my favourite male characters: he's like my close friend who i worry about. but he's also me in some ways. but sometimes he's also my son and i carried him inside of me and gave birth to him. but im also psychosexually obsessed with him. but mostly he's my doll i play with. and a bug i keep in a jar on my shelf. and i shake the jar. and i shake it. and i shake it. and i shake it. and i shake it.

[divorcedwife]

studying history is like. here's to another beautiful day of not being pregnant and of having no obligation to ever be. thank you women who fight for abortion and contraception and independance from men for another beautiful day of not being pregnant and of having no obligation to ever be

[byjove]

The funniest part of A New Hope is that Luke Skywalker is a 19 year old who has not locked in yet and plays with toys and sleeps in his childhood bedroom at his aunt and uncle’s house and Leia Organa is a 19 year old with a mission to save the galaxy from fascism. Luke has never left his hometown, Leia just watched her planet be blown up. He’s peeved his uncle is asking him to do his chores, she’s imprisoned for resisting the government. You relate to them both but they’re on complete opposite sides of the 19 year old life stage spectrum.

[slinky-cat]

Also Luke is clearly very lonely after his crush and best friend, Biggs, went away to college

[byjove]

Yes! Some people have misinterpreted this as me insinuating Luke is a wimp but he’s just in a very transitional life phase that is focused on growing and maturing. His friends are growing up and moving on, he’s anxious to join them but isn’t quite ready. He has ambition and goals but he just isn’t in a place where he is able to pursue those goals, he is immature and that isn’t a bad thing. 19 year olds SHOULD be able to ponder their place in the world and which direction they want their life to take. Leia has been in the public eye her entire life, she is a princess, she has been primed for greatness and she has been shouldered with so much responsibility. Luke is just his aunt and uncle’s nephew, they love him and don’t want him to leave, he’s trying to decide what to do.

[byjove]

He’s like a Midwest farm boy who is dreaming of the big city and she is like an old money New England heiress who has been told since birth she will follow her father’s career path into politics and has been sent to the most competitive schools and enrolled in the most rigorous extracurriculars.

[hockeyfinches]

i love Not to jump the gun here but with rozanov’s permission…? i think shane in that scene was feeling fiercely protective over another person for the first time in his life. so bowled over by the intensity of his own emotions that he stumbled back to his hotel room in a daze and immediately jerked off in the shower about it. “what if rozanov got arrested and i had to use my immense hockey wealth to bail him out of jail and it was winter in boston. so he had hypothermia. and he had to live with me while we sorted out the legal situation and i yelled at journalists for him and helped him with his paperwork and hired the best lawyer in the world and nursed him back to health and he was like “hollander……..you saved my life 🥺” and he fucked me soooo hard every night for stress relief (obviously he couldn’t fuck other people. due to the lawsuit) and we fell asleep in each other’s arms afterwards. because there’s only one bed in my apartment and he’s too tall for the couch” stuff like that. normal fantasies

[hockeyfinches]

top ten shane hollander shower fantasies:

• holding ilya’s hand while they cross a busy street full of hazards (potholes, roadworks, etc)

• rescuing ilya from kidnappers (he kicks down the door)

• rescuing ilya from a burning building (bridal carry)

• fighting in a gladiatorial ice hockey arena for ilya’s hand in marriage

• massaging ilya’s bad knee and ilya says with wonderment “wowww wow. shane you’re so good at this… you are better than every physical therapist on earth probably”

• saying “he asked for no pickles” to the mcdonalds cashier

• carrying ilya’s bags

• washing ilya’s hair

• applying o’keefes working hands cream to ilya’s calluses

• fuck or die

[hockeyfinches]

[milflaralorvan-deactivated20231]

when you see your little kitty walking toward you at a leisurely pace and say "hi baby!" bc you're excited to see her and she starts trotting a little bit faster 'cause she's excited to see you too. that's what life is all about i think

[wishfularoace]

does anyone want to be best friends that also live together and go on adventures together but like mundane adventures like ikea and target and also wants to lay our heads on each others shoulders when sleepy but also have separate bedrooms but also enjoy spending most of our free time together……. just me? ok

[unspeakablearchives]

[wifegideonnav]

“bits to use in everyday conversations”

[penandinkprincess]

i do love and respect the idea of the world at large being stunned at finding out how long ilya and shane have been together, but i truly think that under NO circumstances would shane ever choose to offer ANY personal details about himself or their relationship willingly.

which combined with ilya loving just making things up and saying them (as seen in the "yes, the rumors are true-" scene) offers the very funny idea that ilya actively tries to offer as much privacy as possible by just throwing out stories about them at random so there IS no central story for people to hound shane about.

assorted backstories a la "ilya just started talking and found out with everyone else where he was going with this":

they got snowed in at all stars one year (b-but wasn't that year in florida?) and decided there was nothing better to do

it started as a bit and neither is willing to give up first

they paired off to combine forces like nato

they paired off to limit how many kids they could have in the future to make sure hockey stayed fair

ilya lost a bet six years ago

shane lost a bet three years ago

ilya got tired of remembering phone numbers for his hookups and shane's is easy

ilya got tired of having to look things up in english and french when talking to other people and decide to marry someone who speaks two languages to save time

shane is gifted enough (wink wink wink) that other people are cowards and only ilya was brave enough to rise to the challenge (this one gets him in trouble on the phone later but it also gets him laid that night at home and also confuses the online speculation about who tops and bottoms, so net positive tbh)

yuna hollander is the best manager in the business and a political marriage was the best way to secure her services longterm

with the end result that all shane has to do is shrug and "my husband has already told our story a thousand times by this point. no point in repeating it and boring people." in interviews to get out of people trying to dig into things he doesn't want to tell them.

[penandinkprincess]

the reporter obviously knows he's not serious (...mostly) but plays along with "what kids?" and ilya just ☝️ as he pulls out his phone and starts looking through, and everyone is like "surely not...bUT WHAT IF", and then he goes "ah! here", and holds out his phone

and it's a picture of anya and luca haas

and ilya just "thirteen hours of labor, but worth every minute, yes?" as he puts his phone back looking SO fucking pleased with himself because he really at least 33% had them for a second

[chaumas-deactivated20240115]

dubiously friendly reminder that you need to own a first aid kit. yes even you.

[chaumas-deactivated20240115]

and a fire extinguisher yeah.

[queeranarchism]

Hot tip: these are excellent housewarming gifts. Doubly so if you're invited to the welcome party of a newly opened squat.

[figtreeandvine]

I find most consumer first aid kits to be useless. So I buy what I need:

Gauze pads and cotton swabs for cleaning wounds and cat ears.

Soap for cleaning wounds. Seriously, soap and water are the best choice most of the time.

Rubbing alcohol for disinfecting scratches, particularly from cats, roses, or blackberries. (I have an inflammation reaction to those three).

Bag Balm for minor scratches and badly chapped hands.

Petroleum jelly for hairballs and chapped paw pads (yeah, my first aid supplies include cat stuff).

Tegaderm HP for bandaging--clear film bandage that you leave on until healed, keeps wound clean and moist and scabs soft. Water, shower, swimming pool proof. Recommended by wound care nurse after my mother had large skin tear. Magical stuff!

Menstrual pads for direct pressure on severe bleeding wounds. Sterile, non-stick, absorbs blood. Also nice for guests.

Vet Wrap (bandage that sticks to itself but not skin or fur). Er, coban I think it's called in human medicine? Good protection over another bandage, especially Tegaderm. Keeps idiots from chewing on sutures. Can be used with a splint in a dire emergency, or to temporarily fix broken tent poles or pack-frames when I was backpacking regularly.

Nitrile gloves for working on people or critters who aren't myself. Also for fabric dyeing and wood finishing.

Albuterol inhaler for my asthma.

Afrin nasal decongestant spray for nose bleeds (learned this from my uncle on blood thinners).

Cortisone cream for insect bites and bee stings.

Benadryl tablets for ant bites--I'm allergic!

Tweezers. Good tweezers!

Pulse-ox meter to measure blood oxygen levels. Good for asthma, covid, and non-verbal post-stroke mothers with colds.

Thermometer.

Other thermometer that works on cats.

Steam humidifier for colds and flu.

[ilyapasta]

Let me settle this. Neither Svetlana nor Ilya are the sensible friend. Neither one is doing well. They are losing things in the club. Debit card: gone. Passport: wet. They are putting tablets in each other’s mouths. They are winking at each other as they lead various pretty people to the bathroom. They are screaming “this is my song!!!!” Whenever some generic 2010s anthem comes on. The only thing I’ll concede is that sometimes one of them is slightly less drunk when they’re getting home and helping the other one and when it’s Ilya who is slightly less drunk his inner monologue is “this is how I prove myself as a man. I am the pinnacle of integrity. Is anyone watching me comport myself with respect and dignity as I assist this wild woman” but crucially he’s throwing up in a storm drain while Svetlana is screaming into her phone in Russian because Ilya was too busy puking to keep her from calling her ex.

Svetlana still lets him fuck her that night. No kissing tho.

[fa3riecore]

his silly selfies mean a lot to me

[weird-goodbyes]

And it would be really fun if Eddie gets stuck in an elevator with May and Ravi while actively bleeding out. May, who is thinking of becoming a nurse. Ravi, who is like “oh god I cannot kill Eddie”. And Eddie who is like “okay. Not my first rodeo. Here’s what you do…” and then immediately passing out and having a coma blood loss dream about living with Buck in a home with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids and maybe a dog.

[weird-goodbyes]

Bonus points if Athena is also in Eddie’s blood loss coma dream. And she’s like married to Emmett (too sad that it wouldn’t be Bobby but whatever moving on) and she figures it out quickly this isn’t right because her kids aren’t there and she spends the entire time being like “Eddie, we need to get OUT of here. This isn’t our real life.” And Eddie is like watching Buck make a high protein cottage cheese taco bowl and he’s like “leave? :( but I LIKE it here” and Athena is getting F R U S T R A T E D trying to convince him because she’s not sure how this works but she feels like they have to both leave together. So after they’re done with dinner Eddie says “okay, cool, yummy stuff babe, but what’s for dessert? What did you make?” And Buck is like “haha Eddie, stop teasing, you know I don’t bake :)” and Eddie is immediately like “Athena, we need to leave.”

Meanwhile Ravi and May are having a “define the relationship” conversation while trying to brainstorm how to keep Eddie alive and getting sporadic updates about Athena from Harry.

[tweetsongs]

take up arms, take my hand, let us waltz for the dead

(9x18 spec based on @fraddit's post about Eddie walking Buck through field operations on him. not quite surgery because I looked through a few articles and went 'i can't write this properly i don't think,' but blood transfusion compelled me. also thanks to @lesbucks for enabling me in all things buddie inappropriate painplay <3)

"Shit- fuck--"

"Sorry, sorry--" the tips of Buck's fingers tremble as they flinch away at the sound of Eddie's voice, even as the rest of him stays steady in the way that only seems to come to him naturally when everything around him is falling apart.

Eddie watches him from the best seats in the house, back against the sweat-warmed metal of the elevator wall, the rest of him a willing dummy under Buck's hands.

Willing on his part, anyways.

"No," he says, trying not to sound too strained. "No, you-- you're doing good."

"I'm hurting you, Eddie," Buck's words are flat, his eyes trained on the mess that is Eddie's side.

"It's a bullet, Buck," his words are dry, only the threadiness of his voice giving away that anything is wrong at all. "It's not going to feel like a walk in the park."

"Oh, fuck off," Buck replies, matching his tone the way he always does. Eddie watches his sea-storm eyes flicker, close, the way he pulls all the big feelings threatening to spill from his seams inwards in a second. Eddie knows, bone-deep, that whatever happens next, Buck will blame himself for this second later.

Right now, though, his eyes open, sharp, and his fingers press gently at the edges of Eddie's ragged wound. This time, Eddie bites back the swears, only letting out a hiss as Buck's fingers smear away the blood around the opening to get a better look at the ugly mess beneath.

"Doesn't look like it hit any organs," Buck says, professional and clinical. "But the blood loss--"

"Isn't great." Eddie finishes, letting his head loll back to hit the wall. Buck's eyes flicker over to his for a moment, and Eddie can see the panic underneath the steadiness.

Buck doesn't answer, just tears away more of Eddie's shirt to expose the ragged hole in his body more clearly, the skin flushed and hot to the touch. He takes out a wad of gauze from his turnouts, presses it firmly to Eddie's wound, and the pain is like a current through Eddie's spine, lighting up every nerve of his body. He groans, and Buck's fingers twist slightly. They both watch the way the blood rapidly soaks through the bandages.

"They know to come with blood bags," Buck almost says it to himself, like a prayer.

Eddie watches him, something like sorrow filling his chest. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. He wishes Buck was pressing into his wound with his bare hands instead of bandages, he wishes he can feel Buck's skin touching his flesh, muscle, organ, bone before he-- "Buck."

"Hen will have enough--"

"Buck--"

"And they're looking for us, they know we're missing, they're--"

"Buck." Eddie says, because he loves to hear Buck's voice but he needs him to listen. Buck's lips fall shut. He looks at Eddie with the kind of wild defiance that precedes preemptive grief. Eddie takes a breath, another. It surprises him every time, how easily he forgets that he's never guaranteed the next. "They're not gonna get here in time."

A flash of something like fury, but Buck has never been the type to cut someone else when he's scared. Only himself. He looks down at Eddie's medkit. "I'm gonna start on a chest seal."

Eddie closes his eyes, feels the weight of the chain across his neck.

"Gotta--" Eddie takes a breath with a sudden wave of nauseous pain, dark spots dancing over his vision as Buck's hands leave his wound for a moment. The absence of touch aches more than the blood. "Gotta dry the skin first, bud."

Buck nods, sharp, smearing the gauze over the skin around the hole in Eddie's abdomen, drying it as best he can. It's gentle, and it feels like sandpaper over his skin. Eddie focuses on the brief moments that Buck's fingers brush his chest, his torso, memorizing the difference between the back of his and and the joint of his pinkie.

Then, Buck reaches into the medkit, pulls out the sealed package with efficient movements. Tear, peel, apply, the plastic suctioning itself over the hum of blood and agony. Eddie immediately resents it, for not being Buck's hands. He looks at those hands, wet with Eddie's blood, callused and fearless and safe. He wants, he wants--

"Eddie-- Eddie--"

They're on his face, and Eddie can feel his blood drying between them, like it, too, wants Buck to be pressed against him forever. "Buck," he says, because he can't quite think of what else to say.

"Eddie, you have to stay with me," Buck tells him, in that firm voice that makes Eddie want to follow him wherever he goes.

But-- "Can' do that, bud," he murmurs, trying for a smile. It only makes something in Buck's expression crumple, which is the last thing Eddie wants. The thing is, though-- "Bleedin'."

"I know, I know," Buck's fingers press in on his face harder, and Eddie's eyes flutter. He wonders if his corpse will have bruises in the shape of Buck's handprints on them. He wonders if he can die being held. Buck would do it, if he asked.

Buck shakes him slightly, and Eddie blinks his eyes open at him. When did his eyes close? "Eddie," he says. "I found the field transfusion packs in your kit."

The words don't quite sink in. Eddie just blinks at him again, slower. Hold me, hold me.

"You have to walk me through it, Eddie," Buck pleads. "Eddie, come on, I can-- I'll give it to you, alright? I'll give you everything. But you have to tell me how."

And, oh. That tone of Buck's voice. That's the tone he uses when he really needs Eddie. Buck needs him. Eddie has to-- he has to--

"Eddie, please--"

"G-get the swabs out." Buck jolts, red-rimmed eyes widening for a moment before he shakes into motion. "An'-- the constrictor band."

Eddie watches the way he digs into the kit, eyes scanning impatiently over the contents as his fingers press bloodstains over the fabric. He comes out with both, a thin strip of blue and the paper squares of alcohol wipes.

"Tie the-- the band. Over the bicep." Buck secures one end with his teeth as he twists the rubber over his arm. "Low' your arm-- can't be above the heart."

Buck tries. His fingers slip, sticky with blood, once, twice. Almost instinctively, Buck presses his thumb to his mouth, tongue a flash of pink against carmine. Flakes of Eddie's blood scrape over his teeth, gum, for the second it takes before his eyes widen and his hand twists away to wipe over his pant leg instead. Eddie's eyes catch at the smudge of red at the corner of his lip, the way Buck's throat bobs, the dark pupils of his eyes as his lashes flutter over them.

Eddie wants to say something, wants to beg Buck to-- what, press his mouth to Eddie's wound? He doesn't, just watches the red on Buck's lips as he speaks again.

"Yeah, okay," Buck nods, curls bobbing, wired through with the beginnings of silver, the slight tack of sweat. "And then?"

"Y'know how to--" Eddie exhales slightly on a laugh. "C'mon, Buck, I know y've trained in drawing blood."

Buck's eyes are soft on his, and if it weren't for the pain and and panic and the smell of stale air and blood between them he could almost pretend they were in the station. That Buck was leaning against the ambulance with his bright curiosity and easy admiration and the way his regard always made you feel like a bonfire on a summer night.

"Yeah, but I gotta make sure you're still paying attention somehow, right?" Between blinks, Buck has slipped the needle into his arm, blood moving down the tube and filling the bag.

"'M always paying attention," Eddie tells him, too soft and half-involuntary. Buck's mouth falls open, a small o, and Eddie watches as he licks his lips nervously, catching the flakes of blood -- Eddie's blood -- at the edges of his lips. The blood held together with plastic at Eddie's side flares, bright, as he watches. When he inhales, it's with a soft shudder.

Buck's hand is on his arm, a needle, a prick. "Hey, E- Eddie-- come on, you have to tell me if I'm doing this right."

Eddie blinks slowly at the needle. "Saline," he reminds Buck. "Flush it first. Got-- gotta han' it up."

Instead of a stand, Buck just holds it above Eddie, switching out the saline for the bag of blood (Buck's blood, Buck's blood that is going to be in Eddie's veins--). Even though it's impossible, Eddie swears that he can feel the blood as it runs down the tube, as the first drop enters his veins. It feels--

"'s you," Eddie murmurs, wondering, as Buck's face fills his eyes, the sharpest thing around a world that is going hazy at the edges.

"Eddie," Buck says. "There's blood seeping into the vents, I have to change it out, I'm gonna fill more, I'm gonna make sure-- you have to-- Eddie--"

Cool air on the skin of his pulsing wound. Sharp, clarifying pain. Buck's hands pressing down, down, down, agony that feels like a revelation. Eddie looks at Buck, the edge of the transfusion bag held between his teeth as he uses both hands to press down on Eddie's exposed muscle and tendon, organ and bone.

Thank god, he thinks, as the lights flicker, as Buck's blood seeps into his veins and his own spills on Buck's fingers. Thank god, thank god, thank god. Thank god I can feel him touching me before I die.

[rainbow-femme]

Someone online makes a comment about how Shane probably isn’t a very good boyfriend, saying his flat affect and resting neutral face in paparazzi pics and video must mean he’s detached and not affectionate compared to Ilya who is much more overtly affectionate

Ilya then has the rest of the Centaurs help him make a compilation of secretly filmed Shane moments showing how good a boyfriend he is

Ilya doing the “would you still love me if I was a worm?” thing and without missing a beat or asking any questions Shane just goes “Yeah”

Harris films himself asking Shane random Ilya questions and Shane always having an answer. “Hey what Ilya’s favorite milkshake flavor?” “Mint.” “I’m buying everyone fun socks, what’s Ilya’s favorite color?” “Blue, but only if it’s light, he doesn’t like dark blue.” “What’s Ilya’s favorite fruit?” “Pears.”

Troy waits for Shane to sit on the bench looking at his phone or tying his skates then says “Oh hey Ilya’s coming in” and catches multiple examples of Shane immediately scootching over to one side to make room for Ilya to sit next to him

Ilya puts his feet up on Shane’s lap silently and Shane starts lightly massaging them. Ilya lays his head on Shane’s shoulder and Shane starts quietly playing with his hair

They film Ilya handing Shane random things and asking him to hold them and Shane does without question. The internets favorite is the one where Ilya pulls a pineapple out of his bag and asks Shane to hold it and he agrees, getting his gear on one handed so he can keep holding the pineapple in the other

Hayden gets a video of Shane letting Ruby brush his hair and fill it with clips while he and Jade do Ilya’s nails, Ilya laying with a face mask and cucumbers over his eyes and his head on Shane’s lap

[assiraphales]

I deadass think steve rogers ending was character assassination and conservative rhetoric (send the progressive man back to the decade epitomes with traditional values for a white picket fence life) but it was also just cruel to steve and bucky. “oh ur just mad ur ship didn’t go canon” no im mad the friendship that was the most important thing in both of their lives was tossed aside and the audience was gaslit into believing it didn’t matter despite three films proving otherwise. steve dropped the shield twice for bucky and would have died rather than live in a world where bucky didn’t remember him. bucky broke thru 70 years of brainwashing at the sound of steve’s voice. their catchphrase was essentially “til death do we part”. the fuck

[reagan-slayer69]

“but what if you abort the baby who’ll cure cancer?!” sir the baby who will cure cancer is an organic chemistry major who works at a Home Depot because you use AI to go through your resumes

[mel-155-a]

"I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops." - Stephen Jay Gould, The Panda's Thumb: More Reflections in Natural History