#queer eye layout

[funnylittlelad]

Trailer Park Blues - Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader

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summary: You don't think much when you start letting Hellfire use your trailer for their meetings. Dustin asked and you caved, as per usual. What you weren't expecting was the rollercoaster ride that becomes your relationship with your little brother's best friend, Eddie Munson.

wordcount: 15.8k

tags/notes: SMUT (MDNI), gn!reader (nonbinary coded if you squint), reader is Dustin's older sibling, name-calling, degradation, hate fucking i'm ngl it's hate fucking, unprotected sex, power play, mentions of bad past relationships, queer eddie munson, talks about dead parents being dead

You might kill Dustin. The windows of your trailer are illuminated. He told you they’d all be gone by the time you got home from work. As you get closer to the door and hear the excited shouts you know that they’re all still here. You’re tired, you smell, and the last thing you want to do is look at a bunch of high schoolers playing some table top bullshit. 

“Dustin,” you shout as you swing the front door open.

 Everyone at the dining table jumps and snaps to look at you. When you enter your trailer you’re immediately met with a view of the living room to your right and the small kitchen to your left. Your table is in the middle, creating a makeshift dining area turned D&D area. 

The normal crew is there, Mike, Lucas, and Will. There are some new, and semi-new faces. The semi-new face is one you’ve seen, but never spoken to. Eddie Munson, four trailers down, and originally part of your graduating class. 

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of us!” Dustin exclaims, holding his heaving chest.

“You’re not supposed to be here for me to scare the shit out of,” you remind him, the annoyance evident. 

“I know, I’m sorry. We’re almost done, I promise. Can we please just finish?” he pleads with big eyes and a quivering lip. 

This fucking kid knows he has everyone in his life around his damn finger. You’d like to smack him.

“Fine, but you’re explaining to mom why you're not home yet,” you point at him as you speak. 

His face breaks into a smile. 

“You’re the best!”

“Call, now,” you order.

 When Dustin goes to the phone on the wall next to your fridge, you exit to the short hall. The company isn't going to stop you from showering. Eddie is frozen. His eyes follow you as you leave the room, mouth parted slightly. You barged in a little angry and it knocked him through a loop. His poor little bisexual heart felt ready to explode. You must get more shit than he does looking like that. Doesn't matter that you’re stunning, being the picture of androgyny in Hawkins can't be easy. He wants so badly to examine that picture up close and in detail. Dustin was right about one thing. Jesus Christ.

When the kid told Eddie they could use his sibling’s trailer Eddie was surprised to find he lived so close to a Henderson without realizing. Now, he really can't believe it. 

“Okay, let’s finish before I get my ass kicked,” Dustin says as he comes back to the table. 

Eddie snaps out of the trance he fell into.

“Uh-we can call it here,” Eddie says, sounding far away.

 The rest of the table balks at him.

“You’re calling the campaign early?” Dustin questions.

“When I asked if we could cut last week's campaign short you said you would strangle me with your bare hands,” Mike adds in disbelief. 

“We’re in the middle of a fight,” Will protests. 

The rest of the table starts voicing their own arguments creating a cacophony of disgruntled nerds. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie gets loud to quiet down the table, “Dustin’s next in initiative.” 

The boys cheer triumphantly causing Eddie to smile. If his eyes keep darting to where you disappeared down the hall… Well, that’s his business. Your trailer is close to his in layout, but it’s much more well-kempt and put together. Makes sense since you live here alone and two grown men live in Eddie’s. 

When you reappear, toweling off your hair, they’re wrapping up. Your sweatpants that sit just below your belly button and short cropped shirt don't go unnoticed by Eddie. His eyes glide over your midriff and the soft dark hair that it's home to. It seems no matter what you’re in you remain more androgynous than Boy George.

 A trait that absolutely entices the queer disaster that is Eddie Munson. Dustin only ever uses sibling to talk about you. He doesn't use any language that would give any more away than your appearance does. It doesn't matter anyways, Eddie is infatuated regardless. Maybe even partially because of. 

The boys all throw you a goodbye as they exit until only Dustin and Eddie are left. Dustin is cleaning up any dishes or garbage left behind while Eddie packs up all the D&D materials. You didn't realize how much goes into this table top bullshit. Eddie has books, binders, and notebooks worth of information and ideas. There's stats and prices of various items on the screen he puts up so no one can peek at his notes. Then there's the velvet drawstring bag of different shaped dice. Shapes you’ve never even seen dice come in before. 

“How long were you guys playing for?” you ask the two of them from where you lean against the counter. 

You don't know what time they got started, just that they were supposed to be gone when you got home.

“Six hours,” Dustin says sheepishly.

“Six hours?” 

“It took longer than expected,” he shrugs with an apologetic smile.

You chuckle and shake your head. Your eyes flicker over to Eddie, catching him staring at you with wide dark eyes. Once your gaze meets his he looks down and hurries to finish packing up. You choose to disregard it. Eddie Munson can eat dirt if he thinks he's in any position to judge you. If only you knew he wasn't judging you, he was admiring you.

“It’s getting late. Do you want to just spend the night? I don't like the idea of you biking home when it's this dark out,” you say to Dustin softly. 

You don't have a car of your own to drive him. Since everything that happened with Will… Yeah, he’s definitely not biking home alone at night. 

“I can bring him,” Eddie offers as he zips up his bag.

“You can bring him?” You question thinking about the death trap of a van you’ve seen him drive. 

Somehow, that feels even worse. 

“Yeah, I can bring him,” he repeats and finally meets your eyes again.

 He sees the distrust, the anxiety. It hits him in the gut. 

“That’s okay, he can just spend the night,” you refuse him politely. 

“How d’you think he got here in the first place?” Eddie asks with raised eyebrows and an amused smile.

 Your nostrils flare a little at the smugness.

“Then I should consider myself lucky he’s still in one piece,” you shoot back. 

Eddie dramatically grabs his stomach and doubles over with a grunt as if he has just been punched.

“You hurt me, Henderson,” he huffs as he looks up at you from his bent state. 

A smile grows on his face when he sees you fighting off your own. 

“Hello, I’m right here, y’know,” Dustin looks between the two of you exasperatedly, “I can go with Eddie.”

“Dust-”

“I can go with Eddie,” he cuts you off to repeat himself. 

You exhale sharply through your nose. The two of you glare at each other for a moment. You still lean against the counter while Dustin stands beside the table. Eddie watches from where he stands on the opposite side of the table. Then your smoldering gaze turns to Eddie, stopping his breathing.

“Do the speed limit,” your voice is even, but so stern that all Eddie can do is nod. 

He swallows the lump that forms in his throat as a result.

“Cross my heart,” he uses his pointer finger to draw an X over his heart. 

Dustin hugs you goodbye. You make him promise to call tomorrow. Eddie gives you one last wide eyed look, a small smile plays on his lips. Then you’re finally alone. You love having Dustin over, but you’re also glad to have peace and quiet. 

You moved out a few short months after graduation. Your overbearing mother proved too much to continue living with. Dustin was pissed at first. He came around when he realized it meant having a space to escape to and be himself. Something you're more than happy to provide for him. 

He was thrilled to learn that Eddie lives only four trailers away from you. When Dustin asked if Hellfire could meet at your place to continue a campaign they had started you agreed for this one time. Even when you said it, you had a feeling Dustin will end up begging for 

more and you’ll end up caving. The kid really does have everyone wrapped around his finger. Eddie included it seems.

“So, are they always so…,” Eddie struggles to finish his question as he drives through Hawkins. 

Hot, breathtaking, pulse pounding, awestriking. He can't really say any of that to Dustin. 

“Protective?” Dustin offers.

“Protective works,” Eddie nods. 

Not exactly what he was thinking, but that applies too.

“Pretty much.” 

“How long have they lived in Forest Hills?” He tries to keep his tone casual, but ends up sounding just a little too interested. 

He can feel Dustin’s eyes burning into the side of his head. 

“Year and a half,” Dustin answers.

“So they're… nineteen?”

“Twenty.” 

Eddie glances over at Dustin. He looks one part irritated and two parts suspicious. Eddie adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. 

“Wait, we were in the same grade?” Eddie asks, surprised.

“You were supposed to be,” Dustin ribs. 

“You wanna walk from here, Henderson?”

“You wanna get murdered?” 

Eddie shoots him a glare knowing he’s right. His threat is hollow with you around. If you found out he let Dustin walk halfway home he’s sure he wouldn't see morning. 

“Why are you asking?” Dustin inquired after a moment of silence. Eddie shrugs.

“Just curious.”

“Uh-huh,” Dustin sounds entirely unconvinced.

“Whatever,” Eddie mutters to himself. He pushes you out of his mind and focuses on driving. 

He can feel Dustin’s occasional glances. The younger Henderson has clocked his strange demeanor, he knows it. It’s not hard. He isn't as goofy or teasing. He’s more lost in thought than he'd like. He just doesn't know how he's never noticed you before. How has he never noticed the one person in Hawkins that seems to tick every single fucking box he could possibly have? 

***

The next time Eddie sees you it’s raining. The weather is only noteable because he sees you walking home with no umbrella. He catches you as you make it under the awning of the movie theater. It gives you temporary shelter from the pounding of the rain. Eddie pulls over to the curb in front of you. He had been going to the store to grab some munchies, but that’s something he can do later. 

You eye his van curiously. He doesn’t bother with his hazards. Cars go around him without issue. He leans over and cranks the window down.

“You need a ride?” he calls out.

“I’m good, thanks,” you call back.

“Seriously? You’ll catch your death walking all the way to Forest Hills in this. Just get in.”

You sigh, but do as he says. It's not like you want to walk in the rain. Keeping a distance from Eddie just felt like the right thing to do. He gives you a feeling in your gut you can't quite place. He always has. Is it possible to admire someone and not like them?

“Thanks,” you say as you close the door. 

You’re shivering as you drip on his seat.

“Yeah, no problem,” Eddie says as he blasts the heat. 

His typically loud music is soft as he drives. Something you appreciate. Work was a headache. Having to walk home in the rain was a pain in the ass. A pain in the ass Eddie has luckily saved you from.

“Where d’you work, anyways?” he asks after a few minutes.

“I’m a manager over at the general store.”

“Shit, really? I steal-I mean I-uh go there all the time,” Eddie doesn’t course correct quite fast enough. 

To his surprise, you laugh. It’s a nice sound. Calming like the rain is when you aren't stranded in it.

“I’ll remember that next time I see you in there.”

There’s a comfortable silence after that. Eddie is actually a better driver than you assumed. It makes you feel a little better about Dustin driving around with him. You don't even notice you've stopped shivering. The van is warming you up, but you’re still soaked. 

“Sorry about your seats, by the way,” you say.

“Eh, it’s just some water. These seats have seen worse,” he shrugs.

You grimace in disgust.

“Like what?” 

Eddie lets out a hearty laugh.

“Probably better you don’t know.”

“Jesus, you’re nasty, Munson,” your laughter betrays you. 

“Oh, you have no idea, Henderson.”

Another round of comfortable silence as Forest Hills comes into view. You expect Eddie to park at his trailer. You don't mind walking the short distance to your own. Instead he pulls right up to your door. 

“Seriously thank you, Eddie,” you give him a smile.

“Don’t worry about it. If- y'know, if you need a ride again you can give me a call.”

“Sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to give me your phone number,” you tease.

Eddie chuckles.

“Two birds, one stone,” he smiles.

“You’ll need to try harder than that, Munson. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” You flash him a smile and then you’re gone.

Only the wet imprint of your ass lets him know you were ever really there in the first place.

***

“Please,” Dustin pleads over the phone. You sigh.

“Dustin, it’s my day off. I don't want to sit here and listen to you guys for six hours,” you tell him.

“We’ll only be an hour, two tops.”

“Dustin-”

“I can stay over after and we can hang out. We’ll watch E.T.,” he sweetens the pot. 

He knows that's your favorite movie and he knows you’re a sucker for quality time with him. Little asshole.

“Fine, but you only get two hours before I kick everyone out.”

“Three?”

“Two and a half.”

“Thank you, you're the best, bye!” he hangs up before you have a chance to change your mind. You chuckle and shake your head.

Two and a half hours stuck in your room isn't too bad. Besides, you’re not really stuck. You just don't want to get in the way, or listen on in utter confusion. You know a little about D&D from Dustin talking about it, but not enough to follow. Sure you’ll pop out to grab a drink, maybe something to eat, but overall you intend to stay removed. 

Part of you wants to stay away from Eddie. You know he’ll just start flirting and you'll be too weak to stop it. Too weak to resist giving it right back to him. It shouldn't surprise you when Eddie is the first to show an hour later, but it does. He gives a quick rhythmic knock on your door. 

“I'm surprised you made it so early. I know the commute is killer,” you quip when you see him standing outside the screen door. 

With a grin, Eddie braces his lower back beneath his old bookbag and leans into his hands a bit to dramatize discomfort.

“Yeah, my back is killing me from the long drive over,” he makes a face as he jokes to drive it home. 

You chuckle and push the screen door open to let him in.

“Dustin isn't here yet,” you tell him as he enters.

 He pauses just inside the doorway leaving him so close to you his body heat reaches the skin of your arms.

“I can come back,” he says and begins to turn.

“No, it's alright. He should be here soon. I’m assuming you need to get set up or something?” you tilt your head toward the cleared off dining table. He nods and you hold your arm out to tell him he’s welcome to continue inside. 

You watch him make his way to the table. Something about the way he’s joking back with you makes you wonder if you had things wrong. Maybe he wasn't flirting in the van the other day. Maybe it was just friendly banter. 

“Thanks for letting us play here. We usually use the drama room, but they’ve needed it more with that stupid musical coming up,” Eddie says as he opens his bag and begins to pull things out.

“Let me guess, Grease?” you shut the door and find your place on the couch.

 Eddie glances at you with an amused smirk.

“Sure is.”

“Figures. Thank God Dustin isn't a theater kid. I don't think I could sit through that every year,” you chuckle.

 Eddie’s smile is curious, maybe even a bit nervous. You're watching him and it makes his movements just a little less sure. 

“Instead you get a bunch'a freaks playing D&D at your table.”

“You calling my brother a freak, Munson?” There’s an edge to your words. 

Eddie’s eyes get wide.

“Uh- no, I-”

“I’m just kidding, calm down,” you laugh, “it’s okay, he is a freak. Besides, I don't think you’d ever be mean to Dustin.”

“Why’s that?”

“He worships the ground you walk on. If you were ever mean to him your uncle would need to pull dental records to identify you,” you say it light heartedly with a smile.

 Your voice and expression don't match the vicious threat. Eddie’s heart thumps hard as he spreads out the battle map.

“You’re a little scary, y’know that?”

“How else am I supposed to keep you in line?” 

Heat crawls up Eddie’s neck. His throat dries and he clumsily knocks into his DM screen. It clatters flat onto the table. You watch on in amusement as he fumbles with it. He’s flustered. A fact that goes straight to your ego. Eddie is Dustin’s friend so you had no plans to actually be mean or rude to him. Admittedly, your brother is pretty good at picking people. Even if others don't see what he does in those people. 

Is flustering Eddie by accident mean or rude? Is continuing to do it because you like that you can? 

“How is it I’ve never seen you around before?” Eddie asks once the DM screen is back up the way he wants it. 

“You have, you just never noticed,” you shrug.

“Trust me, I would have noticed you,” he glances at you as he says it. 

When he sees your attention is already on him, he quickly moves on to digging out the miniatures he brought. 

“Trust me, you wouldn't have. I haven't always been this comfortable dressing and existing how I want. Not everyone can be Eddie Munson,” you give him a small smile.

“What's that supposed to mean?” he pauses setting up to look at you. 

He half expects insults to start being hurled at him.

“You’ve always been yourself. Even when it would be easier to be someone else. I’ve always admired that about you. It took me a long time to be that brave,” you answer genuinely. 

His face reddens and his eyes nearly strike you down where you sit. They’re big, as always, and the distinct brown of them swims in an emotion you can't place. Eddie’s heart is in his throat. He knows he’s attracted to you physically, but you might have just sunk a hook in him emotionally. Whether you meant to or not, you nearly destroyed him with your words. He can't remember the last time someone has said such nice things to his face. 

“Always, huh? You been watching me, Henderson?” he bounces back, diffusing his own feelings with the joke. 

You shrug with an innocent smile.

“You make it hard not to.”

Eddie’s face somehow gets even hotter. He might need to peel off his jacket if this keeps up. As he struggles to come up with a response to that, Dustin bursts in. The large smile on his face drops when he sees the flustered state of Eddie. His eyes travel back and forth between the two of you.

“What’s happening?” he asks

“Just getting to know your friend,” you shrug casually. 

Traces of that smile can still be found on your face. That's when Eddie knows you’re doing it on purpose. You saw how flustered you made him and decided to keep going. He’s not sure if he hates you or just fell in love with you. 

“Right,” Dustin says, completely unconvinced. 

“Okay, well, I’ll make myself scarce before the rest of the nerds get here. Remember, two and a half hours, Dustin,” you point at him as you rise from the couch. 

“I know, I know.”

Eddie watches you disappear down the hall. His eyes stay on the beginning of the hallway until he hears your bedroom door click shut. Then he finally looks at the boy in front of him. Dustin has narrowed eyes on Eddie.

“What?” Eddie asks defensively and continues emptying his bag. 

“You tell me,” Dustin crosses his arms.

“I don't know what you mean,” Eddie lies as he spreads out his reference materials and notes behind the screen.

“Bullshit.”

“We were just talking.”

Before Dustin can pry further the rest of the boys start piling in. Mike, Lucas, and Will are confident just walking in like they live there. Jeff and Gareth follow with more hesitation. Eddie happily dives in once everyone is settled at the table. Happy to continue the campaign and happy to avoid talking about you further with Dustin. He’s not sure how the younger Henderson will take his burgeoning crush. 

Around thirty minutes into their gameplay you appear for a drink. You notice immediately that Eddie becomes distracted when you pop into the kitchen. Eddie’s eyes track you the entire way as the others discuss their next move. You catch his gaze when you turn around from the fridge. Before he can try to act like he wasn't staring, you smirk. Then you’re taking a nice long drink from your can of coke. Eddie swallows, watching you, Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to regain the ability to speak. 

“Eddie,” Dustin waves his hand in front of Eddie’s eyes.

 Eddie blinks back into the game, feeling like he traveled a million light years and back. Dustin glances over his shoulder to where Eddie had been zoned off staring. You give your brother a small wave when he sees you. His eyebrows furrowed as he looks back to Eddie who is trying desperately to get back on track. Eddie hazards one more quick look at you. You throw him a wink as you make your exit. On their way back to the table in front of him, his eyes meet Dustin’s.

“What the hell was that?” Dustin questions.

“That was Mike getting knocked prone,” Eddie answers and reaches over his screen to knock Mike’s miniature on its side. 

“You’re deflecting,” Mike says smugly, happy to have some retribution for the hit Eddie’s NPC made on his character. 

“Uh, no, I’m DM-ing,” he makes a sweeping gesture to the layout in front of him.

“Holy shit, Eddie has a crush,” Lucas realizes out loud. 

Dustin groans.

“Are we gonna have to stop playing here?” Will asks genuinely.

 Will is the only one Eddie can consider innocent here. The rest of them earn a glare. 

“I don't know, Eddie, will we?” Dustin sasses with a pointed look at Eddie.

“No, we won't. We only have a couple hours here, can we get back to the fucking game?” Eddie snaps them back into focus. 

An hour goes by and you’re back. This time Eddie is able to drag his gaze away from where you’re digging around in a cabinet. You have to reach up in a way that exposes the skin of your stomach. A silky stripe of skin and some tufts of dark hair between your too small shirt and sweatpants. 

Instead of allowing himself to get distracted by you again, he starts putting on more of a show. His movements become more dramatic, he throws himself more fully into the voices he’s doing, and overall amping up the theatrics. He figures if you admire him always being himself, he'll dial himself up to ten. 

You find yourself leaning against the counter with a bag of chips in your hand watching. No one else seems to have noticed your arrival. They’re too taken in by the narrative Eddie is weaving. You can't blame them. Eddie puts his full body into it. After a couple minutes he lets the group deliberate their next move. His eyes flicker over to you again, a smirk on his face. The eye contact jolts you from whatever weird fog you’d fallen into watching him. As you make your leave you see the quick wink Eddie tosses your way. 

Your heart is loud in your ears when you shut your door. Oh, it’s on, Munson, you think to yourself. If there's one thing you are, it's competitive. It’s clear you fluster Eddie, which means there’s some type of attraction there. Truthfully, you’re attracted to him too. You always have been. His authenticity and ability to stay true to himself have always drawn you in. Now that you can tell he’s into this too, you’re ready to have fun with it. The two of you have officially entered a little game and you refuse to lose.

 An old pair of shorts is your next move. They’re Hawkins High green with white trim and stripes up the side of each leg. They’re long enough to cover everything, but short enough to draw attention. You give it another fifteen minutes before re-emerging. When you do so you fan yourself with your hand to pretend your room is hot. Without looking to see if Eddie has noticed you bend at the hips to start peering in the fridge. You look innocuous enough searching for a water bottle to cool down. Then you hear a clattering, a few shouts, and fumbling.

“Shit,” Eddie hisses. 

You turn around with a water bottle pressed to your forehead. Everyone, but Eddie, is frantically looking for something on the floor. A small red pointy looking die sits in front of you on the linoleum, a black number twenty facing up. You pluck it off the floor and hold it up lazily. 

“You guys looking for this?” you ask. A couple of them hit their heads on the table on their way up. 

When they see the D20 between your fingers they swarm you. Suddenly you’re trapped against the fridge by several manic nerds. Dustin grabs the sides of your upper arms. 

“Did you see what it landed on?” He all but demands. 

You shove him off and push through them. Eddie remains seated at the table watching with huge eyes. 

“First off, whose is it?” you ask.

“Mine,” Eddie’s voice wavers just a bit on the single syllable. 

With a bright smile you walk it over to him. He looks up at you when you’re next to the table, face getting more and more red. You place the D20 down in front of him, black twenty still up. His mouth parts slightly as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You have him all lined up where you want him. Now, you just have to make the goal by brandishing some of the only D&D knowledge Dustin has imparted on you.

“Natural twenty,” you say, your smile curling into something more mischievous, “Congrats on the crit.”

Eddie continues blinking his wide dark eyes at you. The rest of the boys groan behind you. Whatever Eddie just rolled for clearly isn't good for them. They all take their seats again. 

“You couldn't have lied?” Dustin huffs comically.

“And rob your DM of his roll? Never,” you chuckle. 

You lift his hat, ruffle his hair, and walk off. Eddie gapes after you, heart absolutely pounding. He won't be able to stand the rest of the game. His jeans got a little tighter when he saw you bent over in those fucking shorts, distracting him mid roll. It only got worse when you walked over his D20, looked down at him like you know the hold you have, and congratulated him on his nat twenty.  

“I think he’s drooling,” Mike’s voice pulls Eddie back to the table.

“He’s speechless,” Gareth adds.

“I’m not speechless. I'm contemplating.”

“Contemplating what?” Lucas questions unconvinced.

“How exactly I want this nat twenty to fuck up your day.”

You don't make another appearance until their time is up. By the time you make it out there it's just Dustin and Eddie. Dustin is on his knees in the living room looking through the different VHS tapes you have in a milk crate. Eddie is packing away all his stuff neatly. 

“How’d it go?” you ask them as you plop down onto your couch. 

Dustin launches into an excited and detailed account of the game. Eddie expects you to tell him to calm down, that you don't need a play by play of every second. You don't. Instead you listen encouragingly, ask questions for clarification, and let Dustin rattle on. 

“Sounds like you did a good job with this one, Dungeon Master,” you say to Eddie with a smile. 

His heart skips. 

“Even I have my days,” he shoots you a smile in return as he zips up his bag. 

“Yeah? Maybe one of these days you’ll be able to keep your dice on the table,” you tease. 

Dustin watches the two of you and it clicks. At first he thought Eddie was just taking a morbid interest. You’ve had plenty of that. Guys in Hawkins like experimenting, toeing the line you ride between genders, and then denying anything ever happened when they come to their senses. He didn't want to think Eddie would be like that, but as protective as you are of Dustin he is of you. The way you prop your chin on your hand and lean on the arm of the couch toward Eddie finally clues Dustin in. You're into Eddie too. 

“Eddie, you should stay and watch E.T. with us,” Dustin interjects. 

Your eyes dart to him curiously. 

“I promised Wayne I'd be home by eight. Next time, alright?” Eddie swings his bag over his shoulder. 

Dustin is disappointed, but doesn't put up a fight. Eddie knew he wouldn't last through a movie with you. Not if earlier was any indication of what you’re capable of doing to him. Not with Dustin around. As disappointed as you might be, you’re also relieved. If Eddie sat next to you the movie would have been forgotten immediately. You and Dustin bid Eddie farewell and start the movie.

Dustin is knocked out on the couch by the end of it. You throw the soft blanket you keep in the living room over him. It’s too early for you to be tired. You take to cleaning up a little, grabbing what Dustin missed when cleaning up after the campaign. When you go to toss the little bits of trash in the garbage can you find it full. You roll your eyes knowing full well Dustin left it like this for you when he could have taken it out. 

The outside air nips at your exposed legs. It’s a short walk to the dumpster, but in the dark it can be creepy. Forest Hills isn't the most lit up place at night. You hurry to toss the bag into the dumpster.

“Come here often?”

The voice startles you. You whip around with a small yelp. Eddie stands before you with a garbage bag in his hand and a teasing smirk on his face. When you realize it's him you recover quickly.

“Only when I’m hoping to see you,” you tease as you step out of his way. He tosses his own bag in the dumpster and turns to face you.

“You callin’ me trash, Henderson?” He raises his eyebrows.

“I didn't say that, but if that's what you took from it…” you smile playfully. 

He shakes his head chuckling.

“You're kinda mean,” Eddie points at you as he says it. 

“Am I?” You ask, taking a step forward. 

There's a foot of space between you and Eddie. You can see his breathing stutter in his chest. 

“Yeah, but I like it,” he admits quietly, heart pounding. 

You smile and take another step forward. You’re fully in Eddie’s space now. He can't even tell if he’s still breathing. You’re still in those fucking shorts, you're openly flirting with him, and you’re so god damn close. He might just die on the spot.

“Do you?” You're torturing him now.

 He knows it. You know it.

“Now you’re just tryna get me to say nice things about you,” he teases with a smirk. 

How he’s maintaining any amount of composure is beyond him. Maybe God is real and right now Eddie is His favorite little soldier.

“Is that so hard?”

“No, not when you're wearing those.”

He nods down to your shorts. You laugh, placing a hand on the breast of his jean vest over his leather jacket. 

“I thought you’d like’em.”

“You were right.”

“I’m glad I dug them out for you then,” you smirk, toying with one of the many pins on his vest. 

“You- for me?” Eddie sputters not expecting the bold statement.

 Light teasing and flirting, sure, but not that.

“You’re really surprised?” you chuckle.

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs lamely. His composure is quickly slipping.

“Then you haven't been paying attention very well,” you chide playfully. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes. 

Before you can say another word, Eddie breaks. He grabs the sides of your face and crashes his lips into yours. You grasp onto the denim of his vest as you melt into it. His lips are warm, urgent, and a little sloppy with desperation. The kiss sends a thrill through your entire body. It’s only when he pulls away that you remember where you are. Outside at night kissing Eddie Munson next to the fucking dumpster. Are you sixteen again? 

You just look into each other's eyes for a second. Eddie’s face is still just inches away from yours. His pupils are blown to shit and you're sure yours are too. You drag him forward again by the grip on his vest. This time your other hand finds a home in his coarse wavy to curly hair. He moans into your mouth as your hold on his hair tightens. You give a surprised groan when his hand grabs your ass. He rides the shorts up just enough for him to brush against the skin they once covered. 

It takes an extreme amount of effort to pull away. Somehow, you manage. Both of you are breathing heavily. After a second of just studying each other's face, you shake your head with a smile.

“I better get going before I try to jump your bones in the dumpster,” you say, but don't move. 

“Maybe you can jump my bones another time,” Eddie suggests with a smile. 

You chuckle.

“I think that can be arranged.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Aren't you eager,” you tease.

“Can you blame me?”

“No, I guess not.”

He gives you an expectant stare. You pretend to think his offer over. 

“Okay, tomorrow. Dustin should be gone by one,” you nod. 

Eddie fights off a groan. He forgot about the Dustin of it all. Maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe he should call the whole thing off. 

“See you tomorrow,” he says instead. 

“I look forward to it,” you smile and leave him.

 He watches you walk back to your trailer. Without you pressed against him, he’s suddenly cold. He jogs back to his own trailer still in disbelief. His thoughts are spinning. One thing is for sure, his dreams are going to be full of you tonight.

***

Eddie’s fist hovers by the door for a second. This is his last chance to back out. It’s his last chance to turn around and avoid any awkward confrontation with Dustin later. Eddie cares about that kid’s opinion of him far too much. Once he has the thought to leave, he gives a quick rhythmic knock. 

“Eddie?” Dustin questions when he opens the door, “What are you doing here?” 

Eddie struggles for something to say. Dustin is supposed to be gone. 

“Oh, Eddie left his dice. I gave him a call last night,” your voice calls from deeper in the trailer. 

The lie is easy and smooth.

“So, you gonna let me in or what?” Eddie jerks his chin up at Dustin. 

His hands are shoved into the pockets of his vest. The left one is wrapped around the condom he brought just in case you didn't have any. He’s almost afraid if he lets go it’ll fall out and Dustin will have more questions. 

Dustin pushes the screen door open to let Eddie in. When he enters he sees you standing over the kitchen sink. You shoot him an apologetic look over your shoulder. He returns it with a small understanding smile. Clearly, you hadn't planned on Dustin still being here either. You turn off the water, dry your hands on a nearby towel, and face him from the kitchen.

“I have the dice in my room,” you tilt your head toward the hallway. 

You lead Eddie to your bedroom. It’s at the end of the short hall, similar to his own. An unmade full bed is pushed into the far corner under the singular window. A dresser sits in the opposite corner with a couple framed pictures on top and what looks like a small silver urn. The wall behind your bed is adorned with an intricate forest green tapestry with the tree of life on it. 

“I’m so sorry,” you begin in a hushed voice.

“S’alright,” Eddie assures you.

“He decided to stay and I couldn't exactly tell him no,” you explain anxiously.

“It’s really alright, Henderson,” he gives you a reassuring smile. 

Your heart skips a beat. Part of you feared he’d be pissed. There have been plenty of guys in the past whose tempers were as short as their sexuality was confusing. Eddie notices the way you relax when you accept his words.

“Well, you’re welcome to hang out as long as you’d like,” you tell him.

“Maybe I should go. This probably wasn't a good idea anyway,” he says with a quick look over his shoulder. 

Dustin is still in the living room, Eddie can hear the tv. When his eyes turn back to you, your whole demeanor has changed. Your face is suddenly unreadable. Your stance is closed off. 

“Yeah, maybe you're right,” your voice is cold.

 Eddie starts internally panicking. Clearly he said the wrong thing, but he doesn't know what. 

“It’s not you,” he rushes to explain, “it’s Dustin.”

You roll your eyes.

“Don't use my brother as an excuse for whatever sexuality struggle you're having,” you whisper harshly.

Eddie’s hands find either side of his head. His fingers sink into his hair as he tries to understand how this situation turned on him. 

“I’m not having a sexuality struggle,” he argues, frustration beginning to bubble up.

“Whatever, Eddie. I’ve been through this too many times.”

“Through what? You're not actually fucking talking to me. Just talk to me,” he gestured wildly in the air, shaking his hands in a pleading motion. 

“Through assholes chatting me up, making me feel special, like maybe someone actually fucking likes me. Only to find out I was nothing but a novelty. I don't know why I thought you could be any different,” you explain bitterly with a shake of your head.

Eddie runs a hand over his face as he processes. Your words sting. They burn tiny lacerations into his skin. I don't know why I thought you could be any different. He never thought he'd be compared to the rest of Hawkins, always an outlier. You’re grouping him in with probably the worst Hawkins has to offer. Now that really fucking hurts.

“I do actually fucking like you. Why can't you get it's more complicated than that?” 

“Oh, I get it. You can't figure out what you’re feeling and you’re afraid it’ll make you gay. So, test it out with me and then move the fuck on like nothing ever happened,” you say while crossing your arms. You fold in on yourself, becoming smaller and smaller before Eddie’s eyes.

“I am gay-I mean not gay gay but-fuck,” Eddie struggles. 

The heels of his hands dig into his eyes as he tries to collect his racing thoughts.

“Just go, Eddie. We can pretend this never happened,” your voice is low, almost a rumble. 

“Will you just listen to me?” he demands frustratedly, voice raised. 

“Is everything alright?” Dustin appears in the open doorway. 

His face is full of concern and confusion. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Dust. Eddie was just leaving.”

Eddie gives you a desperate look. He pleads with those big brown eyes. When it's clear you’re done and this conversation isn't going any further he sighs.

“See you later, Henderson,” he mumbles as he pushes past Dustin. 

You’re not really sure which one of you it's directed at. Eddie isn't either.

***

You actively avoid Eddie the following week. It’s painfully obvious. He wants a chance to grab you. To talk to you and explain the misunderstanding. He's beginning to think you can sense that and that's why you’ve been so slippery as of late. The only time he really could is when you’re on your way to work, but he doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to make you late or upset you before a shift. 

Dustin opens the door the next time Eddie knocks. You’re still letting them play in your trailer, but you haven't been home the last couple sessions. He does his best not to let it bother him. It's fucking hard when Dustin keeps giving him these watchful, curious looks. Almost like he’s trying to decipher what happened just by studying Eddie’s face. These looks are peppered throughout the entire campaign, exhausting Eddie.

It feels like fate when you come home as he’s packing up. He gives you an unsure smile. You return it and go into your room. That’s something. That’s progress. At the end of the day, Eddie doesn't want you thinking so low of him. He hates knowing you think he'd use you as an experiment. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a piece of shit. 

“Dustin, if you need a ride home Steve is stopping by in a few minutes,” you call out from your bedroom.

When you walk back out you’re in a pair of dark blue shorts that fall to your mid-thigh, and a baggy white muscle shirt. You catch the expression Eddie was making before he managed to wipe it off his face. You pause between the kitchen and the front door. 

“What?” you question a little aggressively.

Eddie holds his hands up to his chest in surrender. The unwarranted attitude automatically sets him off.

“Put the gun away, jeez. I didn't know you’re friends with Harrington is all,” Eddie snaps back defensively. 

“Okay, what the fuck is going on between you guys? I thought you liked each other,  but now you’re acting like you hate each other,” Dustin interrupts exasperated. 

“Shut up,” the two of you say in unison.

Your head snaps to Eddie.

“Did you just tell my brother to shut up, Munson?” you demand. 

“You did too!”

“Because he’s my brother. Who the fuck are you to talk to him that way?” 

“Will you calm down?” Dustin demands.

“Dust-”

“No, this is so stupid. What happened?”

You grit your teeth. A sharp exhale exits your flared nostrils. Your eyes flicker to Eddie for a second. His face is red with frustration, his eyebrows are set, and his mouth is a thin line. You look back to Dustin's confused face.

“Jason,” you state flatly.

“Jason?” Eddie questions, absolutely bewildered.

Dustin’s face drops. His eyes squeeze shut as he sighs. You watch him slowly turn to look at Eddie. Eddie’s stomach sinks when he sees Dustin’s broken expression.

“Eddie, you didn't,” he pleads softly. 

Eddie’s eyes fly furiously between you and Dustin. He’s trying to grasp what the fuck is happening. Why did you bring up Jason? Why is Dustin looking at him like that?

“Didn’t what? What’s going on?” he asks, absolutely lost.

“You should go,” Dustin answers solemnly. 

“Jesus Christ, you fucking Hendersons don't know how to have a conversation to save your lives,” Eddie grumbles as he continues packing up his stuff.

“What’s that, Munson?” You demand, stepping forward.

“C’mon, don’t-” Dustin starts.

“Dustin, go wait outside,” you order without looking at him.

Your glare remains firmly on Eddie. Eddie who is glaring firmly back, only the battle map left on the table. 

“I’m not gonna wa-”

“Outside, now.”

Dustin huffs, but ultimately listens. Once the door is slammed shut behind him you march up to Eddie. Eddie backs up, but you don't stop. Soon his back hits the wall and there’s nowhere else to go. You stop directly in front of him and start aggressively poking his chest.

“Let’s get something fucking straight, Munson. If you’re going to be using my home for your stupid fucking childish fantasy game you're not going to talk about Dustin or me that way, got it?” you spat.

“Oh, now it's a stupid fucking childish fantasy game. That’s rich. You didn’t seem to think that when you were drooling over me DMing.” Eddie counters, still holding up his facade of confidence despite being cornered. 

“Please, don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff.

“I’m not. It’s pretty fucking clear you’re into me, sweetheart.”

“Yeah? And what are you? Completely indifferent? You get a hard on just from seeing me in shorts. You're pathetic.”

Eddie wants to be hurt. He wants to be hurt so fucking bad. His body has other plans in response to your words, though. Fire spreads to every limb. He has half a mind to bend you over the table right now and show you just how pathetic he is. He’s ready to make you an incoherent mewling mess so he can lean down and whisper who’s pathetic now? into your ear. 

“And you’re a fucking tease,” he snaps instead. 

“Holy shit,” you laugh sarcastically, “You’re getting turned on right now, aren't you?”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn't you?”

“Me? Munson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

The front door slams open. You whip around and Eddie’s eyes snap up to the door. Steve is standing there with his hands on his hips, looking completely unimpressed. 

“Alright, kids, what seems to be the problem here?” Steve asks.

He steps into the trailer with Dustin at his heels. Both you and Eddie are red, breathing heavily, and still standing within an inch of each other. 

“Steve, can you just bring Dustin home, please?” you try to sound less irritated, but it doesn't work very well.

“Okay, well, one, you said I could borrow your blue jacket. And two, I’m not going anywhere until you two explain what the fuck is going on.”

“Nothing, I’m just dealing with Jason Junior over here,” you answer, crossing your arms. 

Steve’s head lolls back briefly in exasperation.

“God, Eddie, not you too,” he groans. 

“Not me too, what? Can you guys stop being so fucking cryptic and tell me what you mean?” Eddie demands.

He’s absolutely over being compared to Jason out of everyone. You huff and walk away. The three of them watch you wander into your room and then back out. You throw the blue bomber jacket at Steve. He catches it with a frown.

“Everyone just get the fuck out of my house,” you grumble and stomp back to your room.

The door slams with such force Eddie is surprised he doesn't hear the wood splinter. All three boys flinch at the sound. Eddie scoffs to himself and starts to barge out. Steve stands in front of the door, blocking Eddie’s way.

“Move, Harrington,” Eddie orders.

“Not until you tell me what all that was about, Munson.”

“Can we do this outside?” Dustin interjects.

The three of them leave the trailer. You’re left alone in your room with nothing, but endless silence. Endless silence and that heavy feeling you get in your stomach whenever you just get done ruining everything. 

“Okay, can someone please tell me what the fuck all this Jason bullshit is about?” Eddie turns on Dustin and Steve once they’re a good few feet from the trailer.

Steve and Dustin exchange a look that Eddie doesn't like. They’re both privy to something about you that Eddie isn't. It’s not surprising, but it's surely irritating. Especially when everyone is talking about it like he knows too. 

“You remember that black eye Jason had inexplicably about four months ago?” Steve sighs.

“Yeah, it was a helluva shiner.”

“I gave him that.”

Eddie spends a moment just blinking. How is this relevant?

“Okay…” Eddie trails off, shaking his head to tell Steve to continue. 

“I gave him that because he’s a little prick that really fucked’em over,” Steve continued with a gesture over his shoulder at your trailer. 

“Wait… Jason? They were with Jason?” Eddie questions in disbelief. 

“Yeah, behind locked doors. Until Jason was done playing queer and got with Chrissy without saying anything,” Dustin says bitterly.

Hearing queer from Dustin’s mouth kinda stung Eddie, he won't lie. He knows Dustin meant it in a sexuality way, not derogatory. Something he likely picked up from you. Still, there’s something about someone decidedly straight saying it. 

“When they confronted him about it he… He said some not very nice things. It really fucked with them. Like really fucked with them. I mean he wasn't the first one to do something like that, but he was the worst one,” Steve explained, sounding irritated at the memory.

“I still don't get what that has to do with me,” Eddie rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“You tell us,” Dustin crosses his arms.

“I don't fucking know.”

“Just tell us what happened between the two of you,” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose, a hand in his hip.

Eddie tucks his hands in his armpits. He spends too long looking between Dustin and Steve. He really doesn't want to do this. He really really doesn't want to do this, but he also doesn't want to be put in the same league as fucking Jason. Frustrated that he’s backed into a corner for the second time today, Eddie wets his lips with his tongue.

“Fine, fine. We’ve been flirting. Last week we made out a little- the night you guys watched E.T.. I was supposed to come over the next day after you were gone so we could… y’know,” Eddie gestures awkwardly with his hands.

Both Dustin and Steve let out an ew.

“Yeah, anyway. You were still there. When we were talking in their room I said that maybe it's for the better that we didn't do anything. After that… I dunno what happened exactly. They started going on about me having a sexuality crisis, which isn't what was happening. I was just worried you would be pissed at me if we did do something,” Eddie finishes explaining. 

Dustin and Steve exchange a look again. Eddie hates this. He hates feeling put under a microscope. He hates that you’ve turned on him so quickly. 

“You sure you weren’t… experimenting?” Steve asks, jerking his chin up at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I got experimenting out of my system a long time ago, alright? I know who and what I like.”

Steve nods and rubs his jaw in contemplation. He glances once more at Dustin who wears a troubled expression. That troubled expression is aimed directly at Eddie.

“You're both pussies,” Dustin states.

“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs.

“Not you,” Dustin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a pussy. I tried, alright? Whenever we talk now it’s just a fucking fight,” Eddie says heatedly. 

“You used me as an excuse. That’s why they think you’re full of shit. You flirt and make out then all the sudden you get concerned with what I think? It’s bullshit, Eddie. You just got scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of the possibility you could have feelings!”

Eddie’s jaw sets. His hands tuck back into his armpits, now his arms apply more pressure. Acid rises in his throat. The kid is right. It’s not that he has any crazy feelings right now, but he can feel them coming. Like a sneeze building up, he can sense the oncoming rush. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak to others, the way you speak to him. Eddie knows he could catch feelings fast if given the chance. When an out was presented, he took it. It’s the feelings that make this feel messy, not your relation to Dustin.

“Can we just fucking agree that I’m not Jason?” Eddie sounds more desperate than he’d like. 

“You’re not Jason, but you gotta get them to realize that,” Steve tells him.

Eddie sighs.

“I’m going inside. I’ll see you later,” he mumbles, turning on his heel. 

This conversation has him exhausted. You have him exhausted. He knows he has to find a way to talk to you. Talk, not argue. Not fall down a rabbit hole of aggressive sexual tension. Right now, though, he needs to take a fucking nap.

***

The short rap on the front door startles you. You wait for a beat where you lay on the couch. Another set of three knocks. Curiously, you answer the door. When you see Eddie standing with the screen door open you go to close it again. His hand flies out and stops the door from shutting.

“Will you just let me talk?” He huffs.

“Fine,” you sigh and go back to the couch.

You don't bother checking if he’s following. The screen door creaking shut followed by the front door lets you know. He sits delicately next to you. There's a few inches of space left between your legs. Eddie fiddles with the rings that have become a permanent fixture on his left hand. 

“So, talk,” you order.

“I’m not Jason, alright?”

“Cool, that it? You can see yourself out.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie snaps. 

He tries to believe he made a valiant effort to stay calm. Your attitude irritates him more each time you show it. Eddie is a lot of things, patient in the face of unwarranted malice is not one of them. 

“You, you’re my fucking problem.”

“Me? Henderson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid,” Eddie turns your own words against you.

Your head snaps to look at him. Nostrils flaring, face red, and eyes full of contempt. 

“Please, Munson, you’re beneath me. You’re pathetic,” you sneer.

Jesus Christ, there's no reason your words went straight to Eddie’s dick the way they did. How are you able to play him with more skill than he does his guitar? 

“I wasn't pathetic when you were sucking my face off by the dumpster,” he counters.

“You act like I sucked your dick. It was a stupid kiss.”

“I remember you wanting to jump my bones after that stupid kiss,” Eddie mocks you.

Your fists clench in your lap. You’re about a second away from grabbing Eddie by his hair and showing him just how pathetic he is. 

“Yeah, then unfortunately for you, you kept running your fucking mouth.”

“Unfortunately for me? Trust me, sweetheart, you’re the one missing out. I woulda rocked your world, anyone else woulda been ruined for you,” Eddie’s voice is condescending with a challenging edge. 

You lean in slightly with narrowed eyes.

“I really doubt that.”

Eddie leans in some.

“Do you?”

You lean in even further.

“Yeah, I do.”

Eddie’s eyes flash down to your mouth before quickly moving back to your eyes. 

“Maybe I should prove it to you then.”

“Now who wants to fuck so bad they look stupid?” You smirk. 

“Fuck it, me,” Eddie breathes and closes the space between you.

His hands are on your face. His mouth moves furiously against yours sending shockwaves down your body. One of your hands takes hold of the back of Eddie’s hair. The other runs along his jaw until it’s circled around his neck. You force him away by tugging back on his hair and pushing forward on his throat. He looks so pretty like this with his big eyes wide as can be, all pupils. His face is flushed and his breathing is ragged. Eddie is pliant in your grasp.

“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you coo teasingly.

“I’ll show you pathetic,” he grumbles.

In a blink, you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned above your head with one of Eddie’s strong calloused hands. He hovers over you. The heat radiating from his body soaks into your skin. The tip of his nose brushes against yours.

“You’re a real fucking brat, y’know that? Go on, admit it. Tell me you're a brat,” he hisses in your face, warm breath hitting your lips.

Your heart is pounding. Your body is heating up. Every part of you wants this so bad no matter how much you hate it. 

“You’re an asshole,” you hiss back.

Eddie’s rings are cold against your jaw. His grip is punishing as he manhandles your face. He presses his forehead to yours. Those huge brown eyes are commandeering as they lock onto yours.

“Am I gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you?”

You manage to let out a taunting laugh.

“You don’t have what it takes to fuck anything out of me,” you bite.

His grip tightens making talking impossible. Eddie's mouth brushes against your ear and his hair tickles your nose.

“I’m going to fuck you until the only words you know are Eddie, please, and more,” he whispers. 

You hate the shiver that runs down your spine. You hate how much he just turned you on, how much you want what he’s threatening you with. Every nerve ending is on fire. Eddie’s lips begin an assault on the soft bit of skin just below your ear. The sensation makes you squirm in delight. Eddie smiles against your neck.

“There you go, now you’re behaving. Now that you’ve finally shut the fuck up,” he taunts.

You glare at him, still unable to speak with his hand holding your face. That’s it. He’s been on you long enough. You’ve let him have control for long enough. Confusion flashes across his face when you smile. You lock your legs around Eddie’s waist. With a grunt, you launch your hips and legs up and over. 

Eddie lands with an annoyed noise on his back on the carpeted floor. You straddle him, wrists free. Now you grip both his wrists next to his head. You brandish a wicked smile as he looks up at you in surprise. Clearly he wasn't expecting to be bested at that moment. Your knees dig into the carpet uncomfortably around his hips, but you ignore it. Eddie’s slightly nervous expression takes your attention off of it. You lean in to brush the tips of your noses together like he did before. 

“What, big boy? Not feeling very confident anymore? You got no more to say?” you mock him quietly.

“I already said everything I need to say,” he mumbles back.

“What’s that, bitch? I didn't hear you,” your voice drips with venom. 

Something in Eddie completely snaps. He swears he hears the sound of it. A deafening CRACK SNAP POP. Then whatever wild animal that has been scratching at his insides bursts free. 

“Alright, I’m real fuckin’ tired of this attitude, sweetheart. Guess I’m gonna have to do somethin’ about it.”

You open your mouth to challenge him further. To berate him, degrade him. He can feel it. While it would only egg him on, only contribute to the growing erection in his pants, he won't allow it. He won't let you win control over this situation. Not this time. You’re already far too smug.

Eddie manages to rip his hands away from yours. In a blink, he’s sitting up. You place your hands flat on his chest to shove him back down, but he moves too fast. His hands are under your ass, scooping you up as he stands in a second. Instinctively, you wrap yourself around him to avoid falling. He has a firm steady grip on you, though.

“You won't be able to walk right when I’m done with you,” he growls, setting off for your bedroom.

“I just don't believe you’re good enough at sex for that,” you whisper into his ear with a smirk.

“Oh, I’ll make a believer out of you. My dick will have you meeting God and calling him by my name.”

He throws you onto your bed. The rough manhandling is something you never knew you wanted. It’s riling you up even more. 

“You got condoms or are we doing this raw?” Eddie questions.

“I have condoms, but we’re doing this raw anyway,” you answer smugly.

“Is that what you think?” he taunts.

He rummages around your bedside table. There’s a decent sized box of condoms that’s about three quarters of the way empty. Admittedly, you haven't touched the box in a while. It’s from another life that ended months ago. However, when Eddie teases you about them, you find yourself lying.

“Jesus Christ, you’re more of a fucking whore than I took you for,” he holds up the box, shaking it to emphasize how empty it is.

“I like sex, and I like cumming even more. Too bad only one of those things will be happening tonight.”

Eddie takes out a condom and throws the box back in the drawer. He unbuttons his pants and kicks them off unceremoniously. You can see the imprint of his dick hardening in his tight boxers. He looks down at you with hooded lustful eyes. Soon you’re staring at his bare dick, his underwear abandoned on the floor. It bobs throbbing and red, glistening with precum. 

“Get on your hands and knees. M’gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like havin’ it open so fuckin’ much,” he snaps.

You don’t know why, but you listen. Now that you’re on your bed with Eddie’s dick right there, all fight is gone. Eddie's hand grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes into your mouth. 

“Shit,” he moans as you welcome him in with a twirl of your tongue. 

He starts fucking your face slowly. You look up at him through your lashes. Eddie is watching you take him into your mouth like it's nothing. The eye contact makes you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he brushes the back of your throat. 

“Never thought I’d get you to shut the fuck up,” Eddie grunts as he picks up his pace. 

You try to remove your mouth. A scalding remark on the tip of your tongue. His grip on your hair tightens until it burns. His thrusts don't break.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. I plan on cumming down your throat before that loud mouth of yours starts up again.”

And fuck if that doesn't send you on a mission. Eddie doesn't even need to guide you after that, but it doesn't stop him. He refuses to relinquish control. He refuses to give you an opportunity to flip this on him. Finally, his hips stutter. Then he’s holding your head, calling out a resounding FUCK, and buries your nose in the dark hair at the base of his dick. You moan as Eddie shoots hot streams of cum down your throat. You take every last drop.

Once he’s finished, his grip on your hair loosens. You sit back on your heels. While making eye contact, you use the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. It’s a move that makes Eddie’s softening dick twitch.

“You had something to say?” Eddie's voice is raspy, but still condescending.

You narrow your eyes at him. As if he wasn't just using your mouth to get off, you cross your arms petulantly. 

“No, it’s okay. I don't think your fragile ego can handle it,” you shrug.

Eddie huff in disbelief.

“I just fucked my cum down your throat and your gonna call my ego fragile?”

“Seems so.”

“Just tell me what you were gonna fuckin’ say,” he orders, climbing into the bed over you.

Eddie crowding you causes you to lay back. Even in the compromising position, you smirk smugly. Eddie’s hair tickles your cheeks as he hovers over you. He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“It was nothing really… Just that Jason’s dick always managed to shut me up way faster than yours did,” you say casually, almost bored. 

“Jason’s di- are you seriously bringing him up right now?”

“Why, that bother you?”

“Considering I’m about to make you meet God like we talked about, yeah a little,” Eddie’s voice is breathy. 

He actually sounds a bit irritated.

“Never took you for the religious type.”

Eddie gets a wicked smile.

“‘M not, but you’re already in bed with the Devil, baby. Only one other Big Man to meet.”

“Big? Is that what you think of yourself?”

“Do you need a reminder? I’ll be happy to fuck that pretty mouth of yours again.”

Eddie leans down closer. Fuck, you want to kiss him. You don't. You won't let him know just how much you’re enjoying this. Instead you smile teasingly.

“You think my mouth is pretty?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

“Fuck, I hate to admit it, but… Not gonna lie, I think every part of you is unreal. Y’know, until you start talking.” 

You snake your hands up Eddie’s chest. Slowly and sensually, you make your way up his shoulders. Then you skirt up and around to the back of his neck until your fingers tangle in his hair. Eddie really likes when you play with his hair. You can tell by the way his eyelids droop a little more at the contact. He almost looks like he’s about to lean down and kiss you. So, you take your chance.

Your grip tightens tenfold. Eddie’s eyes widen as you pull him back, sitting up in the process. He hisses, but doesn't complain otherwise. You glide the tip of your nose up the side of his neck until you reach his earlobe. With a smirk, you angle your head up so you can speak into his ear. 

“I’m gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like having it open so fucking much,” you whisper, using his own words against him.

You swear you hear him breathe a curse. You let go of his hair, knowing he’ll follow you wherever you lead. Eddie is sure you could lead him into Mordor, up Mount Doom, and down into the lava like Sméagol. He’s sure that whatever painful obsession the ring of power imposed on Frodo, you just imposed on him. For better or worse. Eddie Munson is officially and completely captivated by you. You’re his precious.

That’s why he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't argue. He doesn't talk back. Instead he watches, waits patiently for you to settle into your pillows and peel off your shorts and underwear. Eddie happily, even eagerly, let’s you fuck his face like he did yours. You swear his tongue is magic. It’s hitting all the right spots, deft movements eliciting loud moans from you. 

“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you say as your thighs clench around Eddie’s head, your fingers digging into his scalp.

All Eddie can manage is a moan as you fill his mouth. You don't take as long as Eddie did to finish. Him using you and cumming down your throat had gotten you close enough, closer than you care to admit. You cum with a loud moan, no actual words coming out. With your fingers tangled in his hair, you pull him up. He looks dazed, drunk on your taste. 

“At least your mouth is good for something,” you tell him with a slick grin. 

Christ, Eddie is a goner. He’s an absolute goner. This is so so bad.

“Look at you, you’re already all fucked out and we haven't even gotten to actually fucking yet. You’re really making me miss Jason…” you sigh dramatically. 

The mention of Jason again wakes Eddie up. A growl rumbles through his chest. His hand finds your wrist, applying enough pressure to get you to let go of his hair. He clambers over you, face real close to yours. There’s something hungry in his dark eyes. Something carnivorous.

“I’m gonna make sure you forget about fucking Jason,” he hisses.

“Fucking Jason is the one thing I like to remember,” you tease.

Eddie silently curses his own poorly placed fuck that gave you that opening. Hearing Jason’s name in the middle of this is seriously starting to grate his nerves.

“That’s it,” Eddie grumbles.

Before you can question him, he grabs onto your waist. With little effort he flips you onto your stomach. Your face is held sideways against your pillows. Eddie forces your hips in the air. You can feel the tip of his dick tease your entrance, causing you to twitch. 

“What happened to the condom, prude?” you spit at him from your compromised position.

“The whore wanted it raw, the whore will get it raw,” he growls back. 

It’s in that submissive state, Eddie’s rings digging into your scalp as he holds you down, him degrading you that you realize you’re a goner. You’re an absolute goner. This is so, so bad.

“What’re you waitin’ for then?” you question.

A loud SLAP rings out and a burning sensation spreads across your ass cheek. You gasp at the feeling. 

“This is for my pleasure, whore. This isn't about you. I’ll go as fast or slow as I like.”

On the last word Eddie pushes into you. He doesn't go too fast at first. Sure, he wants to fuck you until you can't walk, but he doesn't want to hurt you. The foreplay was minimal, slow is better for now. You whine as he bottoms out. Completely stretched out and full you can do nothing but grip the sheets on either side of your head. 

Slowly, Eddie begins to move. He’s so lost in the feel of you around him and his own mutterings of Jesus Christ that he doesn't register you speaking at first.

“What?” He breathes.

You cackle.

“Christ, Munson, you’re pathetic.”

There’s that word again. That fucking word. Eddie leans down, both of your damp shirts still on and sticking to each other. 

“Remember what I said earlier?” he whispers into your ear.

“I remember you saying you think I’m unreal,” you mock him.

He straightens back up.

“Yeah, yeah, keep talkin’ while you still can. Soon you’ll only be able to say Eddie,” he gives a single powerful thrust earning a moan from you, “please,” another powerful thrust, “more.”

Eddie sets off on a wild chase of his second orgasm and your delirium. Admittedly, that delirium was setting in very fast. His movements are quick, strong, and fluid. You can't think of anyone else who has fucked you like this. In a way you didn't realize you’ve been craving. In a way that doesn't make you feel like an object, a subject to be studied, or a novelty. Eddie makes you feel a person who is desired, even in spite of the animosity ripe between you. He makes you feel like a whore in the best way possible.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good,” Eddie groans as you tighten around him. 

He’s giving you so much already, but he was right. There are only three words you can think of right now. Only three words you think you’re capable of uttering.

“Eddie,” you moan.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

“Come again?”

“More.”

“Not sure I heard you right,” he says smugly, never breaking pace.

“Eddie, please, more,” you moan.

“Thought so.”

Eddie’s thrusts become animalistic. All the anger, frustration, name calling, and overall emotion from the rollercoaster that your relationship has been are being taken out on you. You start saying it like a mantra. Eddie, please, more. It’s a white flag, a surrender. It’s you telling him he’s won. Boy, oh, boy is it a sweet fucking sound. A sound that turns into a scream of a moan with your body tensing around him. He spills into you, hips flush against your ass. His own moans mingle with yours in the air. 

You collapse onto your stomach, Eddie close behind. He stays on top of you. After a minute of catching his breath he rolls off of you. You stay on your stomach as you come back to your senses. 

“You alright, Henderson?” Eddie’s voice is much softer than you’re expecting. 

You turn your head to face him. He’s watching you with wide eyes. How does he manage to look so innocent after everything he just did to you?

“Yeah, Munson, I’m peachy. You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He nods, eyes never leaving you. Your eyes don't leave him. What’s the point in trying to hide staring after all that? You don't care that he is and he doesn't care that you are. 

“So, you still miss fucking Jason?” Eddie asks playfully.

“Who?” 

“Good,” he smiles, looking awfully pleased with himself. 

“Do we still hate each other? I can't remember anymore,” you knit your eyebrows to feign confusion. 

Eddie laughs. It’s a low sound that rumbled through his chest. His eyes take on a gooey quality that you fear you may get stuck in.

“I think we might like each other now. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Sounds good to me.”

***

The scent of sex is thick and heavy in the air when you wake up. Golden light streaks across your face as the sun lowers beneath the horizon. When you shift to turn over and check the time on your alarm clock, a warm weight stops you. Eddie’s arms are around you loosely, holding you against his chest. Both of you are still in only your shirts. 

Carefully, you extract yourself. Eddie groans, but doesn't wake. You only bother with a new pair of underwear. Your stomach lets out a loud grumble and the hunger hits you. You take another look at Eddie’s sleeping form. The annoyance doesn't creep up at the sight of him anymore. Something else does in its place. Something you decide not to dwell on. All you know is if you’re this hungry, he’ll wake up hungry too.

Eddie wakes up to the smell of sex, bacon, eggs, and melted butter. It takes a second to get his bearings. The smell makes him think morning, but the position of the sun tells him it's evening. He crawls out of your bed and pulls his bottom layers back on. When he makes his way out to the main living area he finds you in the kitchen. You’re humming God Only Knows and pushing eggs around in a sizzling pan. Beside you is a plate of bacon and a plate of pancakes. 

There’s a moment where the only thing Eddie can do is watch you. You’re bathed in the last golden rays of the evening, nothing but that baggy white muscle tank and a fresh pair of black underwear. The song isn't one he goes out of his way to listen to, but Wayne has thrown it on a few times. Enough for Eddie to recognize the Beach Boys’ tune. 

“All that for you?” Eddie finally alerts you to his presence. 

You jolt a little in surprise and whip around to look at Eddie. A coy smile crawls upon your face.

“Uh- no. I woke up starving and figured you would too,” you shrug.

As if on cue, Eddie’s stomach lets out a loud growl. You laugh and gesture for him to sit at the table. The whole scene feels so… domestic. If something in Eddie snapped earlier, something else is connecting now. There’s a satisfying click in his head as the sensation of things finally being on the right track sets in. 

“Y’know, I didn’t peg you for a Beach Boys fan,” Eddie comments after a moment of only the sound of you scraping eggs around the pan.

You don't look at him, but Eddie swears he sees color rise to your cheeks.

“I’m not really. It… my dad used to sing that song all the time,” you explain, something close to troubled taking over your voice.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise. He’s never heard mention of Father Henderson before. Dustin only ever has complaints about your mom. Neither of you have mentioned a father until now.

“Dustin’s never mentioned-”

“He wasn't Dustin’s dad.”

You slide the scrambled eggs onto the last empty plate. Eddie watches you bring them over before grabbing a couple more plates for the two of you to eat from. Then some cutlery.

“I’m sorry if I brought up a sore subject,” he apologizes with big eyes as you sit across from him.

You begin shoveling food onto your plate.

“You didn't. I actually love talking about him, but my mom and Dustin have never really felt the same. So, I just don’t.”

“Do you want to talk about him now?” 

You finally look at Eddie. Eyebrows slightly raised, eyes a tad wider than normal, and a soft smile on your lips. He wonders if it's okay to reach over and kiss you. 

“His favorite song was God Only Knows by the Beach Boys, but I guess you probably figured that out.”

“Not a bad choice.”

You chuckle.

“I can't imagine you listening to the Beach Boys.”

“I don't, but Wayne does sometimes. God Only Knows is one of the only ones that doesn't make me want to rip my hair out,” he flashes you a playful smile.

“My dad would sing it whenever he was doing something boring. Laundry, dishes, but especially cooking.”

Eddie nods as he fills his own plate. There’s a couple minutes where the two of you eat in silence. Occasional voices could be heard outside, some cats, and the clinking of bottles as recycling goes out. The average soundtrack of Forest Hills.

“Can I ask what happened or is that not cool?” Eddie asks genuinely. 

He really doesn't know how to navigate this conversation. He doesn't want to piss you off or upset you in general. All he knows is how he would want to be asked and, honestly, he simply wouldn't. You don’t seem as closed off on that front as he is, though.

“Pancreatic cancer. My mom ended the marriage before the cancer did, though. Said it was too much for her to handle.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Eddie suddenly felt very guilty for asking.

You just shrug. 

“Where’s Dustin’s dad?”

“Who knows,” you snort, “he ran off with some woman from his job.”

“Jeez, your mom really has-”

“Poor choice in men? Yeah.”

“I was gonna say piss poor luck.”

You laugh, which loosens some of the tension that's built around the conversation. Eddie chuckles along, scarfing some food down in the process. 

“We would fly kites when it was nice out. Sometimes he’d bring me to the lake where we’d fish and swim. He liked going to the library a lot, too. I basically grew up in the mystery section. A lot of that was lost when the cancer got bad, though. All of it, really. All of it except that song. No matter how bad it got, he always sang that song,” you rattle on sadly, but with a smile.

It’s been so long since you've talked about him. It feels good. Like visiting him after a long time away. Memories are nice, but there’s something special about sharing them. It’s easier to relive them. Easier to enjoy them when you get to do it with someone else. Maybe it’s just because that someone else is Eddie. You think if anyone will understand, or at the very least respect, how it feels it'd be him. 

“What was his name?”

“Jack. Jack Coleman.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. He narrows his eyes and leans in, pointing his fork in an accusatory fashion. 

“Wait, so, you’re not a Henderson? You’re a Coleman?” He questions.

You break out in a smile. 

“Guilty.”

Eddie looks like he was struck by lightning. Like the heavens just opened up and revealed the meaning of life to him. 

“Shit, wait… I do remember you!”

“No, you don't,” you shake your head, attempting to hide how mortified that sentence makes you.

“Yes, I totally do! All your friends called you Cole. You had those sick green vans,” he wears a goofy smile.

You feel heat crawl up your neck.

“You remember my vans?”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to flush bright red.

“Yeah, like I said, they were sick.”

“I still have’em somewhere. Maybe I’ll break’em out one day,” you smile.

Both of you clear your plates after that. You really were hungry. It’s an amicable silence. One that grows more uncomfortable in your chest because you know another hard conversation has to be had.

“I know you’re not Jason, by the way. I mean, I know now. Sorry I jumped to conclusions. I've been through a lot of Jasons,” you tell him softly.

Eddie offers a soft smile.

“S’alright. Would you tell me what happened there? I can't imagine you with fuckin’ Jason.”

You chuckle.

“Yeah, he asked me for help at work and then started saying all the right things. The dating pool for me in Hawkins is small. So, when he said he didn't want anyone to know I said okay. When he pretended not to know me in public I said okay. Then, one day, he was just…,” you frown at the memory of them walking down the street holding hands, “with Chrissy Cunningham. I asked him about it, but he was pissed I called his house. Called me about every derogatory name you can think of.”

Eddie could actually kill Jason. He already hated him, but now he’s actively cursing the ground the asshole walks on. How could he treat you so shitty? How could he not feel grateful he gets to be in your presence in this capacity? 

“Well, I’d like to keep doing this. As public as possible. I want everyone to know I’m with someone this unreal,” he keeps his tone playful, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. 

Your heart starts pounding against your chest. Eddie is sitting across from you offering you everything you’ve ever wanted in a relationship. Someone who not only wants to be with you, but is proud to be with you. It’s almost too much. 

“So, you're with me now, huh?” you tease.

“I sure am,” Eddie teases back with a wolfish grin.

“Maybe let's start with an actual date.”

“You asking me out, Hen-Coleman,” he places emphasis on getting the last name right. 

A smile forms on your lips. You don't have an issue with being called a Henderson. The different last name is why so many people don't know you and Dustin are related. So, you don't correct people anymore when they call you Henderson. The reminder that you're technically only half siblings has always upset Dustin.

“Yeah, I think I am, Munson.”

“Then I expect to be picked up at seven sharp. You better have flowers and chocolates. I’m expensive to date.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Eddie helps you clean without you asking. He takes over the dishes, scooting you out of the way and instructing you to dry and put them away. 

“I dunno where anything goes,” is his excuse.

Really, he just wanted to take on the more arduous task for you. A sort of repayment for making him food. The effortless kindness you've met him with after the sex you had. The angry, heated sex. Eddie finds it kinda funny how the two of you have fallen into this little exchange of kindness and good will considering how the day began. 

When the dishes are all done and put away, Eddie begins awkwardly fiddling with his rings. It feels like his time with you is coming to an end. He doesn't want to overstay his welcome, but fuck does he want to stay. Just hanging out with you like this makes him feel… normal. He doesn't feel like the Freak, the drug dealer, or the fuck up. He just feels like Eddie and, for the first time, he feels like maybe that's enough. 

“Is it really dumb to ask you to stay?” you ask him suddenly.

You’re standing across the small kitchen, having just put the last of the plates away. Eddie looks at you with wide, excited eyes.

“Awe, you wanna spend more time with me, Coleman?” Eddie coos teasingly. 

“Alright, forget I said anything,” you roll your eyes with a smile.

Eddie lets out a laugh.

“I’ll stay until you kick me out,” he smiles back. 

You don't kick him out until you have to go to work the next afternoon.

***

The next time Dustin calls to beg for permission for Hellfire to meet at your place, you agree without hesitation. The day before you work, but only until five. Eddie is waiting in his van in front of the store when you exit, a lit cigarette between his lips. You smile and hop in. 

“I wasn't expecting you to pick me up,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.

You know he had work at the record store today. Eddie takes one last drag of his cigarette and puts it out in the cup holder on his side. He’s been doing that ever since you yelled at him for flicking his butts out the window. 

“Got out at four. I’m not gonna let my precious Coleman walk home if I can help it,” he shows off a goofy smile and starts to drive. 

“You think I’m precious,” you coo.

“More precious than the One Ring,” he coos back.

“Okay, you've lost me.”

Eddie glances at you in disbelief.

“You have Henderson as a brother and you don't know Lord of the Rings?” 

“Oh, that’s those books that read like textbooks, right?”

“Read like- Jesus Christ, I might have to rethink this whole situation,” he says to himself.

“Sorry,” you laugh, “I don’t have much time for reading. So, when I do, if it's not simple and to the point, I can't get into it.”

“Lord of the Rings is art. It’s a painting on paper.”

“Aren’t all paintings on paper?”

“Canvas,” he corrects, “you’re makin’ me feel real smart today.”

“Glad I can be of service,” you say sarcastically. 

“Seriously, though. That’s like… my favorite thing other than D&D and music,” his voice is more tender, more serious.

And you, he thinks. It’s far too early to admit that. Doesn't mean he doesn't feel that way, though.

“Maybe I can give it another go,” you shrug.

Eddie throws a soft smile your way. You hold onto the warmth it fills you with for as long as you can. Eddie ends up staying the night, which isn't much of a surprise. It was clear he was expecting it because he brought his D&D bag with him. It did make setting up the next day easier since he was already there. 

By the time Dustin shows up Eddie is all set up. You’re laying on the couch, Eddie is crouched beside you. His face is close to yours, a sly smile present. You’re busy giggling like a maniac at whatever he must have said. Dustin lets the screen door fall shut behind him. The sound of it slamming startles you and Eddie. 

“What’s going on?” Dustin asks suspiciously. 

Eddie smiles widely.

“Just telling Coleman here what’s in store for you guys today,” he says easily. 

Dustin visibly stiffens. He doesn't find this situation as amusing as the two of you seem to.

“Coleman,” Dustin states, eyes set on you.

You can see the hurt. It’s been so long since you've corrected someone on your last name. You didn't think about how the sudden change might make Dustin feel rejected.

“Yeah, y’know, their last name,” Eddie eggs the conversation on, unaware of the ugly feelings bubbling up.

“I know their last name, Eddie,” Dustin snaps. 

That clues Eddie into the sore nature of the subject. He glances apologetically between you and Dustin. 

“Dustin, don’t be rude,” you chide.

“You two were at each other’s throats the last time I saw you together and you’re telling me not to be rude?” 

“Well, we’re not at each other’s throats now. So, yeah, I am,” you begin catching Dustin’s own attitude. 

You sit up, causing Eddie to stand. 

“Whatever, it’s bullshit and you know it,” he rolls his eyes and throws his bag down next to the chair he usually occupies. 

“Excuse me, what’s bullshit?” You question and stand up.

Eddie is watching helplessly. He can't help but feel like he incited this situation. Dustin gestures widely at the air around you and Eddie.

“You telling me what to do. You guys are friends today, but tomorrow you’ll probably be fighting again. Isn't that how it goes with you?”

Any emotion falls from your face. Your hands shake a bit. You won't let them see you break. You won't derail their night. Besides, Dustin is right. You and Eddie are good now, but you like to blow up all the good things in your life. Ever since your father died, the idea that anything good may be permanent feels more like a pipe dream. It’s easier to discard good things before good things discard you.

“Yeah, it is. I’m going to be in my room. Have fun with your campaign,” you mumble and storm past him to your room.

The door doesn't slam. It clicks shut calmly, which is scarier. Eddie rounds on Dustin. 

“What the fuck is your problem, Henderson?” he demands.

“I don't have a problem.”

“You wanna talk about bullshit? What is it? Am I not good enough-”

“Eddie, you know that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Dustin takes a second. He sighs, closing his eyes, and then opening them once more.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

The waver in Dustin’s voice throws Eddie off. His features soften as he looks at Dustin. Guilt washes over him. Sure, Dustin might be younger and Eddie might see him as a protege, or a younger brother, but he’s still one of Eddie’s best friends. Fuck, this was really shitty of him. He should have told Dustin he’s into you, regardless of how obvious it was. He should have told him you two have hooked up and are seeing where things go. Maybe not official, but exclusive. Instead, he acted like it didn't matter. Like it didn't matter that he’s seeing his best friend’s older sibling. Eddie runs an anxious hand over his face, stopping at his chin to hold it in thought.

“I’m really sorry, Dustin,” is all he can say in the end.

“I don't want an apology. I want an answer. I asked you so many times, Eddie. Every time you just dismissed me. I’m not stupid! And I don’t care! I’m happy for you, for both of you. I just… I just really wish you told me.”

Eddie takes a shaky breath. Dustin's words fall heavy on his shoulders. They're a weight he can tell he’ll be carrying for a while. 

“I should’ve. I was afraid of what you'd think. What you’d say. It’s not an excuse, I know, but… I dunno I think this is real, man. It feels real.”

Dustin does what Eddie thought he may never do again. He hugs him. It takes Eddie a second to register, but once he does he hugs back tight. He’s hopeful when they separate. 

“I think it’s great. Seriously, you both look really happy. But if you hurt them, Eddie, I’ll get Steve to beat you up.”

Eddie nods with wide eyes.

“Understood.”

“Okay, I have to go apologize,” Dustin sighs. 

Eddie watches him disappear to your room. Mike and Will come strolling in. Eddie thanks whatever is out there that they showed after all that. 

***

“So, we’ve been doin’ this a while now,” Eddie says, head lolling over to look at you.

You’re in your bed, fully clothed. These nights are Eddie’s favorite. Together in bed for the sake of being together in bed and nothing else. Eddie’s hair is splayed out behind him. The singular telephone pole light outside exposes the blush on his cheeks. It makes you smile. You like that you do that to him. 

“I s’pose we have,” your voice is soft and quiet.

“D’you maybe wanna make this an official thing?” 

He looks shy, nervous. It’s adorable. 

“I’d love to be an official thing with you.”

“Metal,” he breathes with a smile.

You chuckle and press a joyful kiss on his lips. When you pull away Eddie can tell you have an idea. Your smile gets this funny little quirk when you get an idea.

“Since we’re an official thing, I guess you should formally meet my father,” you try to sound serious.

Pure confusion crosses Eddie’s face. You gesture to the set up on your dresser. A small urn and some photos. Understanding and then mischief lights up his face. He hops out of bed and stands before the dresser. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Eddie says and bows as if addressing a king. 

You let out a little laugh. Then he’s staring tenderly at the photos. One from your third birthday. You're on your father’s lap covered in cake. Another is from one of the times he took you fishing. You’re around six in that particular photo. The final photo shows you at eight. Your father looks so much older despite it only being a few years. He’s paler, thinner, and more tired looking. You’re tucked into bed with him, asleep. Eddie can only assume it's the last photo you took with him. 

“You were a cute kid,” he comments adoringly and jumps back into bed.

“What, I’m not cute now?” you tease.

“No, you're unreal now, remember,” he smiles.

You chuckle.

“You’re unreal too, Munson.”

One thing’s for sure, Eddie was right. This official thing is definitely real and it’s definitely it for both of you. 

[mirpkechi]

why not stay and chat ?

FREE PALESTINE 🍉🫒🇵🇸

hello :} i'm miro !! this is my main blog for anything art / reblogs / fandom / politics related ; i'm a desi minor living in the uk 💗

pronouns page

no.1 goro akechi kinnie / irl

my identities kind of overlap ,, so you can check out my pronouns.page for a more cohesive layout of my various identities :} please use it / He / they on me 💗

i speak 3 languages fluently [english/urdu/hindi] and am learning a few more :

[ french / japanese / arabic ]

i draw (sometimes), and ramble often. keep an eye out for it !!

photodumping sideblog

gayposting sideblog

jiraiblr / menhera sideblog [tw ; very bad stuff. this sideblog is essentially a dumping ground for all mentally ill thoughts with cutesy undertones]

pinterest [the account i'm more active on . . .]

spotify ?!

things i like / hyperfixations ;

>rhythm games [let me know if you want to play together !!!] >history >space > [my no.1 hyperfixation since i've been about 5 !!!] >sea creatures >games : persona series > mainly p5 ; project sekai ; bandori ; obey me! ; arcaea ; phigros ; kalpa ; minecraft // other cozy games ; + more :3 >shows/films : studio ghibli, ohshc, arcane, the amazing world of gumball (+ many other older cartoon network shows!!), fullmetal alchemist, toilet bound hanako kun (manga nd anime), neon genesis evangelion, + more that i can't remember </3

>lots of bands/artists!! >> mcr / tuyu / mili / depeche mode / queen / my dead girlfriend / takenai namae / wisp / loathe / fennel / radiohead / bôa / the cure / david bowie / james marriott / weezer / buck-tick / elliot smith / malice mizer / lyn inaizumi / my bloody valentine / slowdive / blur / ptv + more // lots of old vocaloid >> wowaka / deco*27 / utsu-p / okame-p / ryo(supercell) / a lot lot more :3 i like mostly rock/metal and subgenres of them, shoegaze, jazz, indie and vocal synths :]

ask me if i know a certain band/artist you like (i'm always forgetting the stuff i listen to.....) // >youtubers? >> dantdm / ldshadowlady / film cooper / james marriott / gabi belle / a lot of older mc youtubers lol / chad chad / danny gonzalez / memeulous / the click / jammidodger / onetopic / jarvis johnson / jordan adika (guess what my favourite genre of video is lol) / a lot more that i can't think of atm </3

basic dni criteria -- don't be a bad person please. it's very simple but like. just be a good person and be aware of whatever you support actually means:) dni: queerphobes, racists, bigots, MAPs, TERFs, pro/comship, zionists/neutrals on the palestinian genocide, doubles / if you claim to kin goro lol, etc. please dont be a bad person :(

please interact !! mutuals (<2), anyone who has things in common with me, other queer people, other neurodivergent/mentally ill people, anyone who wants to talk

audhd + bpd [plus some other stuff but those are the things i talk about more often]

tags

#miro's rambles -> me when i ramble 😞

#miro draws for once -> art tag!!!

#prosekaiposting -> pjsk rambles :3

#pleas from the void -> mentally ill stuff [not vents]

mutuals i commonly get asks from 💗

irls !!

hearts in my blog description

please look after yourself <3

joined : 17/12/23

ribbon dividers by @aquazero <3

[alexissara]

The Marble Queen Review

The Marble Queen is a an amazingly drawn book, Gabrielle Kari is one of the greatest artists out there and her brilliant craftsmanship truly captures a unique voice in comics. I am impressed her illustrative style was captured on so many pages of the books really showing the level of heart that went into this work. The amazing use of paneling and page layout allowed for very dynamic use of the medium of comics breaking conventions from each other while feeling like bold artist moves on the page.

The book is hampered some what by being a YA book, it feels like at times there are areas that maybe would have been better served with more details but it does really edge what most YAs feel their able to do in a first novel. With lots of death, some blood and some implied sex. The pacing was a bit fast, there were moments that felt like they could have lingered longer and taken more time and perhaps the beginning starts a little slow but the romance does feel satisfying.

I think there are feelings I'd like to see explored more, the ending appears to set up a potential follow up book but it's ending is satisfying enough to simply imply potential conflict that is not needed. Anna does do a great job capturing Amelia's anxiety and the ways it manifests, the ways she tries to treat it, and how it affects her life. It is a great deception of that mental health struggle. I do wish we could have seen more into Salira's perspective, the white woman who doesn't know about being gay being the POV makes sense in the like cynical ways but I would have liked to get more into the interiority of Salira who does fall a bit into the "more butch brown woman who dots after he innocent white GF trope." I think that would have been felt a little less if we saw the world a bit more from her eyes. That said the book does do a solid job of showing plenty of fem brown women so I think it be an oversimplification to say it's just an example of that. It's worth noting only in that i know several other BIPOC women who might hesitate at it but I think we're in the clear here.

This book does feel like it in some ways compensates for being about gay women with good straight brothers who are very good boys. In general we get an idea that Salira'a kingdom is homonormative and see that in a page but from that point on basically everyone is implied to be straight in the kingdom. They leave some details vauge, some people could be bi, but this is all the reader chosing the details what we do see if M/F relationships, a set of women attracted to men, and one other woman who is confirmed to be gay but is also tied into a plot twist so I won't go into detail. That's not to day the queerness feels bad in the story it is good, it's the focus, it's great just that I felt there was maybe a little room for improvement within the bounds the story itself set's up. Unlike something like the lack of trans rep which it does not ever bother with so I wouldn't mention outside of like using it as an example for something I wouldn't take points off for. Regardless, my point is it would have been nice for like one more named character to have been queer.

I do really enjoy that both girls have some troubles in the new arranged relationship and both gave up something they love for it. I also enjoy that there is a twist for a lie that is told that while given a moment of weight is not turned into a giant drama moment and just given a tiny bit of time before the pair moved on. It felt more realistic for the two to understand why that lie was told.

Ultimately, this is a rather good story that I feel like was close to great but maybe fell behind just a little. That said I really liked it and I'd totally love prints of it and stuff. The main couple are cute and extra adorable towards the end. I like that there is a flare of action in the story and that the story had some big shifts in the status quo by the end of it. I love a lot of the sweet little moments. I love the ways it really pushed on anxiety as this thing in your life that can be consuming. It's a really great piece of art. If you enjoyed this review and want to see other reviews and support me making my own sapphic art you can support me on Patreon.

[thedamnlesbian]

Stupid Valorant pronoun/sexuality hcs that nobody asked for :D

These are headcanons, you don’t have to agree ^^!

(Warning, This is me getting used to the whole layout thing + I hc almost the entire cast as Polyamorous)

Brimstone - He/they - I have no clue what his sexuality would be - This man is a he/they in a “I use he/him but people can use they/them on me” sort of way

Omen - Any pronouns(including neos/xenos) - Polyamorous queer - I feel like Omen wouldn’t really care about what people call them, she has her likes and dislikes, but isn’t really concerned about his gender

Viper - She/it/they - Polyamorous Aroflux Lesbian - Librafeminine - Okay. This might be purely projections but I’m a firm believer that Chamber and Viper are more queer platonic partners than romantic partners, again, I might be projecting as I am aroflux myself but let me have this

Raze - She/they/art/ze/boom - Lesbian - RAZE IS A LESBIAN. NANOBOMB LESBIANS REA

Cypher - He/it - Polyamorous Bisexual - Trans man - This man is a bisexual. There’s no denying it. (+BONUS!!! Nora - She/they - Trans woman - Bisexual - I NEED MORE NORA HCS. AMIR AND NORA T4T FR!!)

Sage - She/they - Polyamorous Lesbian - Sage doesn’t look like a man liker I’m sorry(also might just be me projecting)

Sova - He/it/hush/owl - Polyamorous Gay - Trans man - Right so the neo pronouns are most definitely projections AHA . I love Sova so much he’s such a silly guy (I ship him with almost the entire masc valorant cast I shit you not)

Phoenix - He/they - Polyamorous Bisexual - I. I have no explanation for this. There is no way Phoenix is straight .

Jett - She/they - Polyamorous Pansexual - I ALSO HAVE NO EXPLANATION FOR THIS The entire valorant thing is gay as hell 

Breach - He/it/flair - Queer - Trans masc - This guy’s gender is screaming.

Reyna - It/she/eye - Polyamorous Lesbian - REYNA IS A WOMAN LIKER !!!!!! SHE KISSES WOMAN !!!! I’M SAGE I WOULD KNOW !!!!!!!

Killjoy - they/It/xe/ze/she/bot/bit/robo/robot/nano/sys/com/tech/pix/pixel/exe/dot - Lesbian - Pangender - I’m so getting yelled at for this one . LISTEN. THERE IS NO WAY THE TECH LESBIAN IS CIS. IM SORRY BUT IM NOT SORRY . KJ’S GENDER IS ROBOTS.

Skye - She/they - Ambiamorous either Bi or Pansexual - Skye is so silly, idk if she’s bi or pan, but she swings both ways 

Yoru - He/they/it - Polyamorous Bisexual - When I was first learning the game and didn’t know the names of the characters I called Yoru ‘the bisexual’, and that has been so ingrained into my mind that whenever I panic and can’t speak properly I go “AH THERE’S A BISEXUAL-”

Astra - They/she/star - Lesbian - Listen I know that Galaxsea is great but I love Astra, Skye and Harbour as a gay/bi/lesbian trio, also because I love to think of their dynamic as a siblings

KAY/O - He/It/They/Bot/Toaster - no romance - I feel like he wouldn’t describe himself as aro/ace? Mainly because he doesn’t care. The neo pronouns were given to it by KJ as a joke, but the neos ended up sticking

Chamber - He/it/gold - Polyamorous Pansexual - They guy is so desperate he will try anyone. Honestly the guy just wants to be loved but at the same time is terrified of commitment

Neon - She/they/shock - Pansexual - Neon likes everyone, I don’t make the rules(but I do)

Fade - She/they/dae - Ambiamorous Lesbian(or omni fem lean idk) - Fade kisses Viper all the time fr(Fearbite real)

Harbor - He/it - Polyamorous Gay - HE KISSES MEN !!!!!!! You cannot look at this man and tell me he doesn’t kiss men on a daily basis

Gekko - He/him - Bisexual - This dude swings both ways !! He’s definitely screamed to Reyna about his crushes :3

[masquerade-flags]

A Schizic flag redesign, simplified, more simplified.

I've connected with the term schizic for awhile. However the flag hurt my eyes, and for me a lot of my experiences with the brain's schizophrenia revolve around negative symptoms. To me the bright colors of the original flag spoke more towards positive symptoms.

The colors are based on the original schizic flag, this skhizeingender flag, and the layout is loosely based on this queer flag The messiness of the first design is to represent odd experiences, and blurring of reality.

[rottenpumpkin13]

I got a scenario (potential introduction for how a certain someone encountered someone who meant a lot to her in this timeline/AU):

Genesis goes to the food court in the Recreational Facility (keep in mind: we're using the Remake's layout) to eat with his friends, it is currently lunch time, but as he goes to the table where his friends Angeal and Sephiroth are... He sees someone else sitting alone on the way there.

It's a woman, with long, blonde hair, and a blue hoodie with stars on it that looks like it's seen better days. She seems to be staring out the window, occasionally eating some of her food, she doesn't look familiar... Could she be a visitor? Someone who stopped by here to get something to eat or visit someone in particular?

As he approaches her, she suddenly hears his footsteps, and turns her head, revealing her blue eyes (that almost look like they hold a small galaxy in them), and her hair style seems to somewhat resemble Genesis's hair style (minus the fact that her hair is blonde, and is longer than his).

Her eyes widen, as she speaks to him for the first time: "G...Genesis?"

(I've been thinking about a scenario like this for a while now: A scenario for how a certain variant of a certain character of mine encountered Genesis in this AU, and how she started to hang out with him and his friends, Angeal, Sephiroth, Zack, and Cloud. Let me know what you think!)

I sense enemies to lovers or perhaps a subtle rivalry going on here 👁️👁️ Tell me if I'm wrong. Y'all come up with such cool OCs I don't know how you do it. The only one I got for ff7 is an old one. He's a very very queer scientist who worked on the Jenova Project with Hojo and Gast. But was later killed.

[onemillionfurries]

I submitted this as feedback, but fuck it. I'm posting it publicly too.

I have literally found people to follow through their icons on reblog chains and in replies. I will often click on peoples blog because the art in their icon catches my eye, or they will have an icon of a character I really like, or they will have a relatively unknown queer flag that I identify with (Queer Villain Pride)

Like, someone having the url "scrimbobimblo" doesn't tell me much about them. But if I see that they have Herbert West as their icon I can go "Oh! A fellow Re-Animator fan! I should check out their blog!"

Removing icons in reblog chains and displaying only OP's removes that discoverability. Litterally the reason I'm sending this is BECAUSE I clicked on someone's blog because of their icon and was reminded that I can lose that.

Copying the layout of Xitter will not bring new users, because if people want Xitter, they will use Xitter. Bringing in features from TikTok will not bring in new users, because if people want TikTok features, they will use TikTok.

If you want new users to come on and stay, you have to give them a reason to that isn't a copy of other social media sites. You have to innovate and give them something that they don't offer, something that THEY would want to copy from Tumblr. More mobile blog customization, bigger emphasis on asks, make the chronological timeline your selling point. New users are coming because other sites are failing and they want something DIFFERENT.

I was a kid in the 2010's era of the internet. Every single website I visited looked different and functioned differently. Even websites that served a similar function (eg Deviantart and FurAffinity, both art sites) looked (and thankfully still look) completely different. And guess what? I was able to adapt to and figure out how to use each site as a dumb little 10-15 year old. The younger generation of new users aren't uniquely stupid. They CAN learn and adapt to different layouts just like I did. Icons on the dashboard won't scare and confuse them. They are functioning human beings. (I WAS going to add a "What's next? Removing ____?" joke but I am GENUINELY scared of giving you guys any ideas.)

Speaking of Deviantart, if you want an example of a website that attempted to "modernize" to draw in new users and fell flat on its face, look no further. I love Tumblr, I have been using the site for over 10 years, I do not want it to go the way of Deviantart.

"Capitalism breeds innovation." That's the mantra I was always told. But with the slow creeping death of Web 2.0, all I am seeing is stagnation and the constant copying of each other. Why is Tumblr following suit? It's clearly not a winning strategy.

[canineical]

[Image Description: A zine in an 8-page layout.

The first page has “Oh, the HORRORS!” written near the top of the page with a subtitle underneath it saying “a zine on horror (wow) & all its forms” with the word ‘wow’ in parentheses. To the side of the title, there’s a drawing of a cat with its head twisted around and backward in a way it should not be able to move. The cat is edited to sit on a photo of a bookshelf filled with horror movie VHS tapes.

The second page reads “Everyone's image of horror is a little bit different, and usually informed by what they fear (especially for people who don't particularly like horror). Some people think of carnivorous bugs, some think of monsters, and some think of killers.” Along the right side of the page, there is a drawing of a wasp whose body is red, an alien head that shimmers green, blue, and purple, with a big forehead and eyes and a small mouth, and a scarab beetle that is colored teal.

The third page reads “This is why so much horror media is incredibly fucked up! Species are inherently dangerous and evil, and are out to get you. Murderers are often portrayed as queer-- proposed as confused about how they embody their sexuality and gender.” Across the middle of the page, there are two images that separate this first part of the text from the second. One photo is from a poster of the Rocky Horror Picture Show and depicts Frank-n-Furter and Riff Raff. The second is the title ‘Her Body and Other Parties,’ each word cut and pasted from the cover of the book. The text then continues: “Some media, like the Rocky Horror Picture Show, fights back a these narratives by allowing queerness to be simply powerful, and murder to be just part of the fun (fictionally, of course). Even more modern horror like Her Body and Other Parties, which does even more work to allow space for fear, dreamlike yet utterly real feelings of being lost, and casual queerness.”

The fourth page reads “American horror (in the past, though patterns have changed with 21st century horror) often takes the shape of slasher films, sci-fi/horror fusions, and the ill-defined creature feature. Let's zoom in a little on slasher films, because to me, this is a prime example of regional fears deciding how horror is formed. Usually focusing on suburban white America, these movies tend to follow the narrative of a small town being terrorized by a killer. Of course, this is not the fear of all America. In reality, POC (and especially Black) experience constant violence and countless murders from within their own communities and from the very people who are oathbound to protect them. But this is the fear of White America-- that they could ever experience targeted violence, too, however less severe.” Along the bottom of the page, there is a drawing in superhero comic style of a white man in a suit seemingly dashing away from some sort of monster chasing him.

The fifth page reads “In other regions, horror looks very different. Under the Shadow, for example, was made in Iran, and details the horrors of war and the evil & the ghosts that come with it. In many Indigenous cultures, horror stories take the shape of scary fucking forest monsters. I believe & fear those most, personally.” Near the top of the page is a screenshot from the movie Under the Shadow of a young girl, Dorsa, holding her doll and looking to the camera with a fearful or worried look. Along the right side of the page is a poster for the same movie in black and beige, depicting Dorsa and her mother, Shideh, cowering in a corner of a room, away from a window with a big ‘X’ taped across it.

The sixth page reads “These sorts of stories, about the wilderness and what it hides, are obviously most common in rural areas, with not many people there to incite fear. These always scare me most, mostly because stories are so consistent through generations and across all  the world (though most cultures have their own unique creatures, too).” The text is evenly split between the top left and bottom right corners. In the top right corner, there is a gothic black and white sketch of a man in a tricorne hat & cloak on a horse pulling to a stop and looking down at a man who is cowering over his own seemingly dead horse. The ground is snowy, they are directly in front of a forest, and there are two winged creatures in the background. In the bottom left corner, there is a gothic black and white sketch of a man in a top hat riding his horse through a forest and cowering away from some sort of ghost hovering near and above him.

The seventh page reads “In recent years, with the rise of the internet, horror has began to take even more forms. Creations like Creepypasta, The Magnus Archives, and more-- while different-- all embody a new approach to horror, where people get attached to characters and concepts just like they would with any fiction! Scary creatures are lovable and interesting,and even cute at times! Whether this reflects a change in approach to fear as a whole is debatable, but an interesting discussion nonetheless.” In the bottom right corner, there is a simple drawing of a black humanoid creature with wings, a round head with a beak, hands with claws, and big eyes. It is facing and creeping toward the left side of the page, and we can only see its profile.

The eighth page reads “Horror can look a million different ways, and all of them are fascinating-- at least to me, and hopefully to you, since I assume you read this whole zine if you're reading this right now. Thank you for that, by the way! I hope you enjoyed it, and that you enjoy whatever horror media you consume next.” Below the text, there is a dashed line, and below that line is the text “by Xalli, may 9 2023.” Under that, there is the Instagram logo next to "desertfirelight," the Substack logo next to "palmlungs," and the Tumblr logo next to "baringteeth." Along the entire right side of the page is a drawing of a long, grey-yellow colored squid-shaped creature with bright, narrow yellow eyes. Instead of tentacles, it’s body fades into wispy sort of strings. Below that creature is a drawing of three magenta ants crawling around. /End ID]

zine about horror for y’all !

feel free to print & share or distribute or whatever it-- just don’t remove credit

[kurgy]

anyway, for several reasons, im prob gonna start posting chapters of Nowhere City and other New Harbor stories here on this blog (maybe a secondary?) and on patreon. Patreon first in tier 1 (1$), then later here. on tumblr the layout would be chapter cover art, a snippet of the chapter underneath, and the rest under a read more and tagged for length as not to cringe bomb my mutuals dashboards.

it would be appropriately tagged, and literally just me sharing some creative works with yall beyond individual art pieces because i want to.

New Harbor is a queer mlm horror romance anthology all set in the same large fictional very unnatural city of New Harbor, Maine. stories ill likely start with are

Nowhere City

Oh Marcello

CottonCandy

Black Eyes

Founding 1890 (maybe)

[sunnysafezone]

sa. 25th of may

Hello my dearest stranger on the internet!

I cannot believe that while bridgerton s.3 and maxton hall premiered, I am still head over heels hooked on stardew valley and obviously the connected diversity of stardew valley fanfictions. I dug deep through Ao3 and let me tell you, I was S-H-O-O-K.

The stardew community is so unbelievable seggsual and dirty. I certainly did NOT expect that.

What surprised me the most was the amount of monster smut. Some dudes or dudettes out there really fantasize about them tentacles and slimes. I, personally, dont particularly enjoy these stories but they are rather capturing, to say the least.

But why on earth am I writing about monster smut and other stardew fanfics? The answer is simple: I am amazed how this little Valley got to be a blueprint for so many different visions and fantasies. I love how many people find peace and comfort in the idea of living an off grid, simple, slow life, just like me.

I was so inspired by many talented writers who imagined to build their dream farm or marry their favorite bachelor or bachelorette. (very cool feature!!!!)

I also wasnt aware of the fact, that queer empowerment and representations was such a big part of the community. It made me love the fan community even more. And I do think we should push Chappell Roan as a new stardew valley icon. I want a bachelorette inspired by her!!!

So naturally, after reading, listening and talking about all this awesomeness, I began to write my own little fanfiction. Let me know, dear stranger on the internet, If I should post the first few hundred words so you can experience my little parallel universe valley. Its all about my boi sebastian and i also only wrote out of his POV atm. His character introduced itself as rather dark and melancholic but I do feel like he is very wholesome.

So the last thing I want to write about is Kai Laramie. You might wonder, who on earth is Kai Laramie?

Well ... he is my new farmer.

In one of the posts beforehand, I showed you my girly Sunny. My first farm, I reached autumn of year two with her already and I choose the Woodland Farm, as many others. But even then, the Beach farm was more then flirting with me and due to the fact, that the Update 1.6 is still not available for mobile, I thought o myself: Why not try the beach farm on my phone.

And despite many critical points I already read about, I am very much in love with the beach farm layout.

Its perfect for the character I want to play in there.

So who is Kai Laramie? He is a deep sea beeing. I imagined him to be washed up on shore of the farmland and him just deciding: yep, thats mine now.

I imagine him to be super quirky, super positive and incredibly energetic. I want him to have green, untamable hair and darker or even colorful skin (like light sea foam green or a turquoise). He is supposed to be in the water all the time so he is constantly dressed in a light linen shirt and pants, rolled up to his knees. How cool would it be, If his skin even changes to scales when certain body parts are underwater.

I imagine him beeing the perfect spouse for sebastian. He would catch him completely off guard. I might even dive into another fanfiction.

This could be him.

To conclude this little entry, lets dive into my prompts:

my current read: not a book atm, but an insane amount of fanfictions

my current favorite song: BLUE - Billie Eilish (not a big fan but this one hits exactly like ocean eyes)

my motivation: where I live, summer ented the chat and I have been enjoying the sun the blooming nature. BIG thumbs up.

So, my dear stranger on the internet. My shift is over now and I wrote down everything I wanted to say today.

Thank you so much for reading!

Sunny

[allysah]

list 5 topics you could talk about for an hour without preparing any material (i have reason to yap now).

james “jimmy” stewart.

jimmy is just like. that guy for me. i could probably go on an hours long tirade about him, his films, his characters, his relationships, his military experience, his ptsd, his politics, etc. without interruption. right now i'm specifically thinking of his relationship with henry fonda (who deserves his own honorable mention) which OH MY GOD is one of the best hollywood friendships to date. orson welles said they were either having the hottest affair in hollywood or were the straightest men alive. he realized they were the latter... anyways that leads me into:

old/classic hollywood + its underground queer scene and the hays code.

first of all just old hollywood in general i can go hours and hours about because i just love so many of the actors and actresses. leslie howard and gregory peck are other honorable mentions in that category. however, the queer folks will always be my favorite <3 people like farley granger and marlene dietrich come to mind as well as cary grant and his biwife energy. but just all of the queer undertones from then i just appreciate so, so much. also the HAYS CODE... when i get you... i've seen so many pre-code movies which are just incredible and whenever they put that damn code in place everything got boring... unless they fixed the subtext so then you have films like rope (1948) which is such a good gay film like wtf?? old hollywood is a gem and if you avoid black + white movies or just older movies in general you SUCK!!

franklin expedition.

i've written academic essays about this damn expedition and i had no sources at all. just my mind and a dream. for two years my only thoughts for a future career was becoming a franklin expedition researcher who worked in the arctic. of course that's not gonna work?? okay but these dumb mfers were some of my favorite people on this earth like COMMANDER JAMES FITZJAMES was a real person who walked this earth and i never even got close to touching him. this is sickening. captain francis crozier is ALIVE and WELL on king william island you just cannot see him. i think i will genuinely throw up if they ever find crozier's captain log on the hms terror. the desolation and sickness is just like. eye clawingly scary and i could never fathom what truly went down on that island. i feel so so bad for the cold boys and i love them so, so much.

fallout lore

here’s where i start geekin about shit. FALLOUT IS SO FUCKING GOOD I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS. 3, 4 and new vegas are top tier games (yes nostalgia is clouding my head but idc) i also love 1 and 2 but genuinely cannot play a turn based game like that. okay but the entire plot of new vegas is such a top tier storyline and it’s just such a fun silly game and is like made perfectly for gay trans autistic people i love it. 4 is just The Game you play it doesn’t matter you just end up there and it’s always fun idc what the haters say PRESTON GARVEY MINUTEMEN #1!!! 3 is there. BUT ITS SO BAD ITS GOOD LIKE COME ON ITS ALMOST ENDEARING GOING BACK IN THOSE SUBWAY TUNNELS AND GETTING LOST FOR 30 MINUTES!! these games are the only reason i know the layouts of nevada, washington, d.c., and boston. thank you for the geography lesson AND the history lesson fallout. i love you.

civil war politics and battles

ok this is my latest fixation and one that came out of ABSOLUTELY no where. i literally told myself years ago to never become a civil war buff because it's so stupid and only old men like it but here we are. i for real blame this on david straithairn's portrayal of william h seward because otherwise i would NOT care (sorry ddl, i love you still). also atun-shei films and his humongous catalogue of videos. but oh my godddd i'm so obsessed with these annoying fuckers i hate them ALL. lincoln and seward are just an absolute class-act together and whenever i watched gettysburg (1993) it was just over for me. jeff daniels and c thomas howell when I CATCH YOU (I Want You)!!! it's just all so interesting i love seeing how these men ticked. it's like a zoo exhibition but with random dead racist white guys. (i also had like a 5 minute discussion about lincoln being racist today after i gave a book talk on team of rivals in my college comp. absolute all-timer)

HONORABLE MENTIONS!!!

rms titanic. film in general (i have memorized a shit load of the letterboxd catalogue and I WILL not shut up about my favorite films and directors). classic literature. us presidents. history in general. musical theatre. how arthur morgan is the best fictional character ever written period.

TAGGED BY: @rmstitanics (THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME YAP AND BASICALLY JUST RANT. SORRY!)

TAGGING: @brainandnarfunkel + no one in particular, but know if you see this i want you to… and i know you want to yap as well… :)

[abyssine]

absolutely sick and tired of websites being dogshit - including you, tumblr. I'm not above moving to another platform, but I am so fucking sick to death of web 2.0. and degradation of expression/rights in the face of consumerism.

there are asks i've seen in my time on tumblr that i've personally reported that are still fucking there, with the same or worse content than the transwoman in question was banned for (very sorry I forgot her name/url i don't personally run in those circles), but I never hear about any action being taken after I report bad actors/bots and a lot of the comments/blogs are still there even weeks/months after my report. either you enforce your rules for all of them or none of them; don't fucking cherry-pick because uwu ur feelings were hurt.

like, if you're going to ban her and cite your rules, where's the fucking balance? why aren't all those comments taken down? 'we have a small team'. fucking okay, hire more people and actually pump proper resources into your website so people feel incentivised to support it, rather than spitting in the face of queer people on your 'queer' website.

have proper content moderation, ban the bots, work on features that people like (not the twitter layout). hell, even a comprehensive chat function would be nice. imagine having little tumblr-based chatrooms so people didn't have to give our their discord(s) that are user moderated? It can't be worse than anything else put out. i'm sure there would be people who would do it for free. not that i would personally advocate for that because it is work and people should be compensated accordingly... but forums and other 1.0. websites functioned just fine on volunteers with a couple of overarching mediators!

flush out your nazis. penalise the harassers. action your reports. don't ride on a community you're going to shoot in the fucking back the moment it's convenient.

i'd pay for tumblr if i thought it was worthwhile. at the moment, i am just keeping a very close eye. i'm only predominately here for the xiv community so, if an alternative came up and this place is going to shit, i'm not above jumping ship.

anyway obligatory fuck you to all terfs: transwomen are women, transmen are men. yes, i'm a gender betrayer or something. feminism includes men's rights. ooo boogeyman.

[risu5waffles]

[LBP - LBsP 01/26/24] 293 - A Totally Reasonable Response

So here we are. If this level is to be the last thing i publish for the community, at least it was something i could be really proud of (i realize, typing this, that it wasn't the last thing i published. That was the New Year's level, but that one hardly feels like it counts, since it was only up for five days).

Looking through the drawing board and making-of videos, and it's shocking how much it changed from the initial build. i'm happy wiv the work i did, and most all the gross ideas (that is to say, things like layout, presentation, and obstacles) were mine; but this wouldn't have been nearly the success it was if it hadn't been for the extra eyes and fine tuning suggestions from the community. Particularly chronos453 and @soupum who were invaluable sounding boards and support. It feels nice that this is my level, but it is also very much the Empty Room's level too.

One thing i wanted was for the level to be joyful, wivout being toothless or anodyne? Something to stand up against the common (and unfortunately often, at times at least, true) narrative of "oh woe, queer life is so hard and tragic." i think i managed it, but it's hard to say. It feels joyful to me, but i recognize it is also very much my brand of bullshite.

It seemed to resonate well wiv the queer/ally players who left comments, tho'. Those were all honestly very heartwarming.

It resonated quite differently, but apparently strongly, wiv a couple of bigots too. Those were... weird.

Now, i know that i'm old, and that's honestly ok. i'm not really current wiv how kids talk these days, and that's also ok. But there was something weirdly adult about some of the comments, that felt very different from the way queermisia would have been framed by kids when i was young-young (that framing, mind you, wasn't really better, but it was usually just the slur and an accusation). Which means, either the rhetoric adults are using now has trickled down into schoolyard discourse, or these were actual adults telling an open room of potentially children that, for example, queer folx were like that because they'd been sexually assaulted and decided they'd liked it. Which... you know... that's a real kind of problem. Both options are real problems mind you, but the second worries me a lot more.

---------------------------------------

i still wonder if i shouldn't have done Distress in Ocean for this week's LBsP, and this one for next. We've not had any real word on the servers yet, which is unsurprising, but also disheartening. If LBsP as a review-focused thing is ending, it would have been nice to have ended it wiv this level. Ah well. You work wiv what's to hand, and i'd already done most of the recording for this by the time it popped into mind that i had Distress in Ocean to work wiv too.

i've spent the last few days up to my nipples in DLC to archive those, and if i never have to see anything Pirates of the Caribbean again it'll be too soon. i'll probably put up reviews here when all the episodes for the levels from a pack have gone live, but i have feelings.

[schrijverr]

A Behind the Scenes of: Robin and Rose's Wedding

With Robin and her wife Rose as special guest, Jonathan gives insight into their illegal wedding that happened in '94.

On AO3.

Ships: Robin x ofc (background: jargancy, steddie, byler, elumax, jopper)

Warnings: homophobia mention

~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe Jonathan Byers is a misogynist,” Robin says. They’re still setting up and both her, Jonathan and Rose are shuffling into frame and sitting down.

“Will you let that go, I never said that,” Jonathan complains as he adjusts the mic on his shirt.

“You let Steve and Eddie talk about their wedding and didn’t ask me,” Robin counters, pouting heavily. “I think that’s very misogynistic of you.”

“I immediately agreed when you asked,” Jonathan exclaims.

“But I had to ask,” Robin counters.

“I’m not a mind reader!” Jonathan says exasperated.

“Be nice to Jon, dear,” Rose speaks up, finally interrupting the argument, though she looks more amused than actually chastising.

“Alright, alright, at least my wedding photographer didn’t have a crush on my wife, so that’s a win,” Robin pretends to give in only to tease Jonathan again.

“Oh my god, did Steve tell you that?” Jonathan groans.

“Of course dingus told me that,” Robin informs him cheerily. “Now let’s start talking about our wedding.”

“Thank fuck,” Jonathan sighs. “Just know I’m keeping that in to show what I put up with when you guys are over. I don’t know when these turned into roast Jonathan videos. Nancy and Jane were lovely guests, you know.”

“I feel like it adds character, shows the wide extend of personalities we have,” Robin grins. “Now dance monkey, dance.”

Jonathan shakes his head at her. Despite it all, he doesn’t actually look annoyed. Then he straightens up and starts the video: “Hi, I’m Jonathan Byers, the main photographer and editor of A Collection of Queer Photography. Today, I’m here with Robin and Rose to talk about their illegal wedding in ‘94.”

“Hi, I’m Robin,” Robin introduces herself. Her bracelets clink together as she waves, there are laugh lines around her eyes and mouth and her hair is dyed a bright green. She’s wearing a funky patterned button up to go with it.

“And I’m Rose,” Rose adds, also waving. She’s wearing a deep green dress and a nice necklace and earrings. Her red hair cascades down her shoulders and she smiles with red painted lips.

“As with the other wedding, there was a structure to the layout,” Jonathan explains. “First you have the proposal, then the ceremony, the wedding photo shoot, the party itself, the morning after and then you two leaving for your honeymoon. That’s quite a lot, so I don’t know if we’re talking about the last two. We’ll see where it goes.”

“Fair enough,” Rose says as Robin snatches up the book and excitedly flips to the right page.

“Okay,” Robin starts once she found it. “First one is Accepted Proposal, ahh, so exciting.”

Accepted Proposal is taken at Argyle’s restaurant, since it had been empty at the time, save for the Boston crew, as well as a known queer safe space. In it is Robin on one knee in front of Rose, in her hand she has a little box popped open to show the ring in it. Rose has her hands clapped over her mouth in shock, tears in her eyes. Robin just grins shyly at her.

“I loved your proposal,” Rose smiles softly. “I didn’t see it coming at all and it was just perfect. You always manage to find a way to sweep me off my feet and make my dreams come true.”

“Oh my god, I am so gay. Steve 100% didn’t prepare me for this,” Robin breathes, before backtracking. “Not that I want to ruin this moment by mentioning Steve, I just meant that that is so sweet and beautiful and I love you and it’s all overwhelming.”

“Ahw, baby, come here,” Rose coos, pulling Robin into her chest and holding her tightly in her arms as Robin melts into her hold. Rose kisses her forehead and says: “I love you too.”

“We’re going to be like this the whole time aren’t we?” Robin speaks up, a little muffled from where she is burying her head in Rose’s chest.

“Probably,” Rose agrees.

“God grant me mercy,” Jonathan sighs.

Robin straightens up to point out: “You’re an atheist.”

“Yeah, but a man can wish,” Jonathan jokes, before he moves back to their task at hand: “This was taken at Argyle’s diner after closing. The diner was a queer gathering place to those that knew, but we also got a lot of drunken students.”

“Yeah, I wanted to ask it somewhere private and safe that wasn’t like our living room,” Robin says. “And there isn’t a better place to go. Our first date was there too.”

“It was perfect,” Rose tells her.

“I’m glad,” Robin smiles.

They hold eye contact for a second, while Jonathan introduces the next one: “Alright, on the same page we also have Wedding Preparations, which is taken by Steve. Wanna tell us what’s going on here?”

The photo in question is of Eddie, Robin and Rose surrounded by fake flowers at their kitchen table. They seem to be gluing them together into one big flowery monstrosity, whose purpose isn’t clear. The flowers are a mix or white, light pink and a dark red.

“We were making the flower decoration piece for our wedding and wedding photo shoot,” Robin says. “We might not have had a big church wedding or some shit, but we were going to have a pretty wedding.”

“It was part of my scrapbook and Robin was determined to make one, since we couldn’t do most other stuff. It was very sweet,” Rose answers.

“Well, what else was I going to do?” Robin asks. “You wanted a nice wedding, I was going to try my damnedest to make it so.”

“And I’m very lucky to have that,” Rose tells her.

Jonathan gives the two a fond smile, before flipping the page. “Okay, page 182 and 183 is the ceremony, starting with Here Comes One of the Brides, which is a reference to the song here comes the bride, but queered, because that’s what we’re all about.”

Here Comes One of the Brides is taken in the apartment Robin and Rose shared. Most of their furniture has been moved to Eddie and Steve’s and the living room has been turned into a wedding location. A few chairs are set in rows facing the place where the flower piece they’ve made functions as decorative piece.

It had been a small wedding, but all the chair are filled. At the front is Robin in a three piece pinstriped suit with bow tie, her buzzed hair freshly shaved. She is biting her lip and crying a bit, though doing a great job of pretending she isn’t.

Behind Robin is Steve, who is the best man, while Rose’s sister is maid of honor, waiting opposite to Robin as Rose walks the aisle, though she isn’t in the image. The wedding was officiated by Argyle, who is wearing a beautiful tiered skirt and blouse, and is grinning happily.

“Ahww, our little makeshift wedding venue,” Robin says. “We truly got married in our living room.”

“I think it was very romantic anyway,” Rose adds. “It was like we were able to visit that memory every day.”

“That’s such a sweet way to look at it,” Robins tells her, making gooey eyes as Rose blushes and thanks her.

“It was a nice wedding,” Jonathan says. “I think your guys properly transformed the space and made it feel fancy.”

“Thank you, Jon,” Rose says. “And thank you for taking all the photos too. I love this photo of Robin, she is so handsome, I love her in a suit.”

“Why thank you, darling,” Robin drawls jokingly, though she’s blushing too.

“No problem, did it with love,” Jonathan assures them. “And it was also personal gain, honestly. It added to my personal portfolio. I’m mostly glad that you agreed to let me use them for this, because your wedding has so many good queering of heteronormative moments.”

Robin laughs at that. “Yeah, it’s almost as if we’re two dykes tying the knot.”

“Yeah, almost,” Jonathan agrees with humor in his eyes.

“Still, thank you,” Rose smiles.

“Totally thank you, like without you I wouldn’t have this very beautiful photo of my wife,” Robin says, pointing at the page.

On screen a photo of Rose appears. She is wearing a gorgeous white wedding gown. It is a princess dress with all the ruffles and frills that fan out around her like a flower. She doesn’t have any sleeves, but she is haloed by her veil, which turns into a train. In her hand she has a bouquet of roses.

She is smiling, practically glowing as she walks down the aisle next to her father, who is giving her away with foggy eyes. She has been one of the lucky ones with accepting parents. Off to the side, her mother can be seen, crying her eyes out. Rose however is repressing the water works, looking like a picture perfect bride.

“For the record she’s pointing at Rose Given Away,” Jonathan informs the camera, before replying: “I love this photo. It such a typical bridal photo, but there is something about it that I can’t describe, but that is just so gay.”

“I think queer femininity is different than traditional femininity,” Rose says thoughtfully after a second. “A lot of traditional femininity is tied to attracting a man, which isn’t really a goal in queer femininity, so there are certain things that just aren’t present. I don’t know if what I’m saying makes sense.”

“It totally makes sense, she’s just being humble, but she’s actually super smart and reads a lot and is into gender theory and shit,” Robin interrupts, hanging off Rose as she does.

“Thank you, dear,” Rose tells her.

“Always, darling,” Robin replies.

“That is super interesting, I like that,” Jonathan agrees with Robin. “That is totally the vibe.”

“Not to mention she is super stunning and beautiful and looking like a fucking princess,” Robin adds. “Like, I’m not going to get graphic here.” “Please, don’t.” “But I regret not doing a garter thing, but it might be better, because I would not have come back out from under there.”

“Oh my god, Robin!” Rose squeal laughs.

“That’s you not getting graphic?” Jonathan chokes, stuck between appalled and dying of laughter.

There are also chuckles coming from behind the camera, before Argyle asks: “Can we please keep that in?”

Robin and Rose exchange a look, before Rose says: “Sure, it’s not me exposing myself.”

“I don’t expose myself, I speak truth,” Robin declares.

“Of course, dear,” Rose says, patting her arm, before she turns to Jonathan: “So, what’s next?”

Jonathan looks back down to the book, which had kind of been forgotten in the chaos. “The next one is First Kiss as a Married Couple and this whole page is about you two being officiated as married.”

The photo that appears is of Robin and Rose’s first kiss at the altar, unofficially wedded. Rose is pulling Robin in by the lapels of her jacket and Robin is enthusiastically clinging back, half pulling Rose’s veil off.

“I love the enthusiasm in this photo,” Jonathan says. “I talked about this with Eddie and Steve, but a lot of straight couple getting married don’t even like each other, which makes it more insane that love like this wasn’t legal. It’s just weird. But I’ll get off my nonsense and just say I love the enthusiasm.”

“I must agree that I also love the enthusiasm,” Robin nods, before she looks at Rose and bats her eyes: “I love it when you pull me into a kiss by my lapels. Very hot.”

“God, you are ridiculous,” Rose giggles. “But you’re so handsome in your suit, I feel like I can’t be blamed. Plus, you ripped off my veil and nearly tripped us both over, it was just practical to hold you put so we wouldn’t fall.”

“You know me so well, woman after my own heart,” Robin fake swoons.

“So are you, handsome,” Rose replies, booping her nose. Then she turns to Jonathan and says: “I think to add to your point, another aspect is that a lot of straight culture is being respectable and especially those that like get married in a church. PDA is kind of demonized and seen as sinful, they’re not kissing like this.”

“Huh, yeah, never thought about that, but that’s probably because the only straight wedding I attended was between mom and dad,” Jonathan says. “And like Steve and Robin if you want to count that. I refuse to count the others, they were queer.”

“And you are so correct for that, bestie,” Robin tells him.

“Oh my god, you are no longer allowed to hang out with the teens when you come visit me at work,” Rose exclaims. “They’re corrupting you.”

“Slay,” Robin attempts to deadpan, but a grin is breaking through.

“I hate you,” Rose giggles.

“Love you too,” Robin replies, letting the grin break through on her face.

The two of them giggle as Jonathan moves on: “Then the next photo is Unofficially Officiated, which is of the ceremony itself.”

It is of Argyle when officiating. He is speaking passionately, clearly visible between the smiling Robin and Rose. The affection from the photographer clearly shines through in the image.

“You are so gay for Argyle it’s hilarious,” Robin comments. “Like this our lesbian wedding and you manage to focus wholly on Argyle and it still be gay, because you use your camera to create fucking heart eyes at him.”

“I can’t help that he’s pretty,” Jonathan defends himself, blushing deeply.

“Ahw, you are pretty too, buttercup,” Argyle comments from behind the camera.

“You did look amazing,” Robin agrees. “And I love your officiating speech. It was very out there, I loved the energy.”

“I tried,” Argyle says.

“Alright, then the last one on the page is Celebrating, which I love. It’s tells such a story,” Jonathan moves on.

Celebrating is of Robin, now turned to Steve with her back to Rose. She is screaming with wide eyes as if she can’t believe that just happened and needs Steve to confirm. Steve is holding her hands, also screaming. Both are jumping with joy. In the background is Rose, rolling her eyes fondly at the duo.

Robin and Rose lean over to see the photo. Rose starts laughing the moment she sees, while Robin flushes red. She complains: “Rose always bullies me for this.”

“No, I don’t,” Rose argues.

“Yes, you do,” Robin pouts. “Remember like last week when you kissed me and asked if I needed to go find Steve to yell at him? We’ve been married for 23 years, this joke can die.”

“But it’s so funny,” Rose says. “It was cute, I swear. You were so excited about it. And I know how you and Steve are, I knew that when I said yes.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Robin gives in.

“I do say so,” Rose promises, punctuating her point by kissing Robin on the cheek.

“You kind of said all that needed to be said about this one,” Jonathan adds. “I do like to point out Rose here. She looks so fond, which I love as a little detail.”

“See, Jon agrees that it’s fond,” Rose says.

“Still a stupid joke,” Robin mumbles, but she doesn’t look too disgruntled.

Jonathan flips the page and snorts when he sees what’s on it. He says: “Okay, so these two pages are the photo shoot we did for your wedding and I love all of them, but I think we should just explain what we were doing and pick two to talk about so it doesn’t get completely out of hand.”

“Alright, I want to talk about my children,” Rose immediately agrees.

“I wanna talk about the Rob and Rose one,” Robin says.

“Okay, so we got two picked,” Jonathan says. “Now the concept for this was a stereotypical wedding photo shoot, but with an edge of ridicule. We took it seriously, but also made it absurd. I think you came up with it, Robin?”

“Well, it was collaborative,” Robin replies.

“No, it wasn’t. You made fun of me and then we did it anyway,” Rose corrects.

“You and I remember this very differently,” Robin says. “Why do you think that?”

“We went through my old wedding scrap book I made when I was fifteen and there were photos like this one in it and you laughed for like twenty whole seconds before demanding we did this. How else was I supposed to interpret that?” Rose asks.

Robin is quiet for a minute, then says: “Okay when you say it like that, I get why you think that, but I was never laughing at you, just the concept of it.”

“It was in my wedding scrap book,” Rose points out.

“That you made when you were fifteen!” Robin exclaims. “Everyone is stupid at fifteen.”

“Yeah, what were you doing at fifteen then, huh?” Rose shoots back.

“I was being jealous of Steve and the attention he got while being mad at him because he left crumbs everywhere,” Robin answers honestly.

“I thought you were seventeen when you two met,” Jonathan pipes up.

“Long story, Jonathan,” Robin waves him away. “The point is, it wasn’t meant as making fun of you, my love, so let’s just look at them and agree about that.”

“Of course, dear,” Rose gives in easily. She never was truly upset about it, but you don’t spend over twenty years around the party without starting silly arguments for the sake of arguing.

“So, first up Newlyweds Rob & Rose,” Jonathan starts out.

On screen the photo that appears is of Robin with Rose standing in front of her. They look to be posing for a family portrait in the late 1800s with serious faces. Robin has her hand on Rose’s shoulder, taller than her, but only because of the step stool that is clearly in frame.

“Okay, so this was meant to be like a typical 19th century family portrait,” Robin says. “And I think it’s so funny that you can just see the step stool right there. Because Rose is a lovely, beautiful, tall queen and I’m the butch one of us two, so to fully parody it, I had to be taller.”

“It’s hysterical,” Rose agrees. “But I was so terrified of you being up on that thing. I love you very much, handsome, but god, your coordination.”

Robin cackles loudly at that, falling into Rose’s side. She crows: “Oh my god, that is amazing, Steve told me the same exact thing when I mentioned talking about these to him. Remember when I almost face planted?”

“I do,” Rose tells her, sounding a little pained at the memory, but amused by Robin’s delight.

“It was a terrifying shoot for all the wrong reasons,” Jonathan agrees, snorting softly. “I also really like the title. Nance came up with this one, she’s said you guys would appreciate the gender fuckery of it.”

“We do,” Robin says immediately.

“Yeah, we are very much a butch4femme couple,” Rose nods. “This felt very accurate of us, while also fitting with the theme. I loved all the titles honestly.”

“The titles were very good and as Rose said, I am very butch. I border on this woman-not-woman edge of lesbianism and that makes me more comfortable with being addressed in a more masculine way, like going by Rob most of the time,” Robin says. “And honestly, I feel really blessed with how I’m represented in this book. Like I love all the other girls in there, but god what I wouldn’t have given to see a butch dyke when I was a teen, you know.”

Jonathan looks very touched by the comment and he replies: “I’m very honored you think that I presently you right, that means a lot.”

“Come here, you,” Robin exclaims, chocking up a little as she pulls Jonathan into a hug. More muffled because of it, she says: “Fuck, I told Steve I wasn’t gonna get mushy and here I am. He’s gonna laugh at me.”

She lets go and both of them wipe their eyes as they pretend not to. Rose puts a comforting hand on Robin’s back.

To move on from the moment, Jonathan says: “Then the other one we wanted to talk about is Wedding Picture with the Children.”

The photo is of Robin and Rose, sitting on the ground together. Rose’s dress fans around her as Robin sits in a mermaid pose next to her. It had been a lot of work to get their huge collection of garden gnomes they usually keep in a display near their front door positioned around them, forming a small army. Robin and Rose are both smiling proudly and happily, albeit a little cheeky too.

“Okay, so a lot of people have asked about the gnomes,” Jonathan informs them. “Why all the gnomes?”

Robin looks to Rose and gestures as if to say: Go ahead.

“Well, I already collected gnomes when we met. I started collecting them when I was nineteen, I think,” Rose answers. “My grandma moved to a care home and she had two in her garden that my mom wanted to throw out, so I stole them. They were so ugly, I loved them. From then on it became kind of a thing for me. I think I drunkly took that one from a garden once.”

She points at one, which gets circled in the photo on screen. The gnome in question has overalls and is holding a little shovel.

“They’ve always kind of hung around my dorms and apartments. A lot of dates thought they were creepy, but that night I met Robin we ended up on the topic. When I told her about it she said ‘gnome way’ and I gave her my number right then and there,” Rose tells Jonathan. “She was the one that demanded we put them in a display case by the door when we moved in together.”

Robin is smiling fondly and looking quite pleased with herself as Rose recounts the story. “Best pun I ever made,” she says. “11 out of 10, would do again.”

“No matter how many times I hear that, it just keeps being iconic,” Jonathan laughs.

“Personally, I consider myself not the stepdad, but the dad that stepped up for these gnomes,” Robin says. “I was channeling my inner dingus for this photo in particular. Don’t I look exactly like him on his wedding with the kids in the party.”

Jonathan and Rose both laugh, then Jonathan glances at the photo again, before gasping: “Oh my god, I can totally see it now.”

“Wait, gimme,” Rose demands as Jonathan wordlessly hands her the book. She looks at it closely, before exclaiming: “Oh my god, you totally do.”

“Of course I did, I know that man inside and out,” Robin says, almost affronted at the idea she couldn’t imitate Steve flawlessly.

“God, you’re ridiculous, I love you so much,” Rose tells her, handing the book back to Jonathan.

Robin’s face lights up in a big smile as she replies: “I love you too. Very much.”

As they gaze into each other’s eyes, Jonathan flips the page. He says: “Page 186 and 187 was the first and second dance. I put them as four in a line to tell kind of a story from left to right, starting with Asking for a Dance.”

The photo is of Robin, bowing as she kisses Rose’s hand. Rose is grinning widely, half hiding behind her other hand.

“Look at you, handsome. Always such a gentleman, made me feel like a princess,” Rose gushes.

“You are a princess,” Robin assures her, making Rose blush.

“Stahp,” she giggles.

Jonathan adds: “It is a lovely photo of you two. Very much a mix of that queering of the heteronormative and queer gender expression.”

“I live to queer it all,” Robin cheers, grinning widely as Rose high fives her.

At that, Jonathan shakes his head, before moving on: “Next to it is First Dance, title kind of speaks for itself here.”

In the photo Robin and Rose are very close together and swaying. Robin’s coordination prevents complicated choreography, however, she valiantly lead Rose that day and they danced for a big part of the night.

“The way I struggled with even this,” Robin groans in embarrassment. “Ask anyone and they’ll tell you I am the most uncoordinated person alive. The fact that we didn’t fall a hundred times is a combination of a miracle and your strong arms steadying us. Even with Steve coaching me for weeks late at night, I barely managed.”

“I think it’s very sweet that you tried so hard and I had a great time dancing with you,” Rose tells her gently.

“Still, I think I did better the second time around,” Robin says.

“Maybe, but I think this first one is still my favorite,” Rose replies.

“Ahw, stop, you’re gonna make me cry,” Robin exclaims, again burying herself in Rose’s chest as she hugs the other closely.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” Rose immediate apologizes, petting Robin’s hair.

“Don’t say sorry for being perfect and lovely,” Robin says, voice muffled.

“Ahww, baby,” Rose coos, hugging her tightly, which makes the muscles in her arms bulge. After a second she lets go again and asks Jonathan: “What’s the next one?”

“Next one is Father-Daughter Dance with you and your dad,” Jonathan says.

The photo that appears is of Rose dancing with her father. She looks much like him, both of them with red hair and big frames. They’re both smiling, pride washing off the image.

“Your dad is so nice,” Robin says. “You look so much like him, it’s insane.”

“My dad is the best,” Rose agree easily. “Both my parents are. I am so lucky to have them and they make it easy to forget that not every parent is like that, but once you start hanging out with other queer people, you start to realize how common it is for parents to not be accepting. It’s heartbreaking sometimes.”

“I think it’s lovely that we got to have your family in here to show that it can be different, just like my mom and dad,” Jonathan says. “It’s easy to get lost in the gloom and doom, but it is getting better. Not perfect, but better. And it can be really hopeful to see.”

“Yeah, you should be fucking proud about it and loud, baby,” Robin adds. “Your parents are the fucking best and it truly shows that all the other shitheads aren’t products of their time, because there are people who knew better, even back then. And, honestly, I kind of love this little piece of tradition we had in our wedding. I love that we got to have that.”

“Ahw, you’re gonna make me cry,” Rose replies, dabbing her eyes as she hugs Robin and kisses her cheek.

Jonathan gives them their moment, before he says: “We wanted to show both sides of how coming out to parents can turn out and the effects of it. Despite the tragedy, I do love The Second Dance of you and Steve.”

Second Dance is Robin and Steve dancing in their suits. Both of them are crying, tears streaming down their faces as they cling more than dance.

Robin looks over to see and tears kind of spring up as she does. Softly Jonathan asks: “You still okay, Robs?”

“Ye- yeah, yeah,” she assures him swallowing heavily. “Just- kind of forgot that was in here. Hit me out of nowhere.” She wipes her eyes.

“Want to tell it yourself or us to do it?” Rose asks kindly, rubbing the back of Robin’s neck with her thumb in a soothing manner.

“I can do, thank you,” Robin says.

“Alright, take your time,” Rose smiles as Jonathan nods.

“Okay, so,” Robin sniffs. “This was my second dance with my favorite dingus. My dad wasn’t there to dance with me, so Steve did it. I- I, uh, also was his second dance at his wedding, because he really wanted one and I did too, honestly.”

She takes a deep breath: “We have this big family, but Steve is the closest to blood I have. He is kind of my whole world. Like, I don’t know what I would do without him honestly. He’s been there for me through everything. He’s the first ever person I came out too and he was my hype-man through everything. When I started dating, he was always my backup, gave me eating out tips and shit.”

Despite it being an emotional moment, Rose lets out a soft snort at that and both Jonathan and Robin crack a grin, the tension slightly broken.

“I’ve seen online people calling us weird for being so close and saying Steve has feelings for me, which is ridiculous,” Robin says. “We’re just way too comfortable with each other, because we care and we need each other to live. If I have to make sure the weird spot on his dick isn’t cancer so he grows old with me, I totally will. Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise.”

“Anyway,” she turns back to the photo. “Neither of us had our parents in our lives anymore and as much as I appreciate Jim or Wayne, it just wouldn’t have been the same. So me and Steve danced and we both cried, because in that moment it just hits you, you know. You just realize that the other is the person you have. That it’s not just going to be over and you can’t go back home and tell your mom that despite all her worries you did get married, that I found someone who loved me even without all those ladylike manners she failed to instill on me. That I was okay.”

Robin now starts crying. She isn’t sobbing, just silent tears streaming down her face as her voice gets tighter and more strained.

“It never truly becomes real that you’re not welcome back. That their love was conditional. That never sinks in after it happens. And it hit me that in that moment it was real and Steve was there to catch me. He is always there to catch me. That’s why I love him so much,” Robin says.

She wipes her eyes again and clears her throat: “I’ll stop being sad now. Just love that man so much, he’s my soulmate.”

“I’m glad you have Steve,” Rose tells her. “He is really cool. He’s one of my best friends too honestly. I remember you crying and wanting to comfort you and Steve just told me that it was okay, that he had you and I should finish the dance with my dad and it was so easy to trust him with you. And sure enough by the time you two were done dancing you were laughing and smiling again. I honestly thought he was a wizard.”

“He never told me that,” Robin says.

“Must have not come up,” Rose shrugs.

“I love him,” Robin sighs happily.

“Me too,” Rose agrees.

“He is pretty great,” Jonathan adds, more to say something, because he feels awkward.

“But not as great as his husband, am I right, Jonny-boy?” Robin jeers, breaking the tension as Jonathan groans and everyone else cracks up again.

“I hate all of you,” Jonathan informs them, before pointedly flipping the page and ignoring their giggles as he reads: “Twirling Trio, is what we’re looking at right now.”

On screen a photo of Lucas twirling both El and Max on the dance floor, the three of them giggling appears. It had been a good day for Max, so her crutches are leaning against the wall in the back, just in case.

“It’s a good day for me when I get to photograph polyam people,” Jonathan says. “They’re a great throuple and I love how close Lucas and Jane are as friends too. That’s really important. Now, this page is early in the wedding and then 189 is later in the wedding. Next one is Wedding Cake and Stolen Kisses, which I think is a hilarious photo.”

The photo is of Steve sitting in a chair with Robin in his lap. The two are sharing a plate of wedding cake, but the photograph is taken when Steve is momentarily distracted by Eddie. Eddie is leaning over the back of the chair, stealing a kiss from Steve as well as a bit of cake, though that might be a fail, since Robin is on her way to stab his hand with her fork.

“I stabbed him so hard, he bled,” Robin reminisces fondly. “I think he still has a scar on his hands.”

“You were very protective over that cake,” Rose comments.

“Of course I was, it took us two days of cake tasting to pick one and it was very expensive,” Robin says, like that is a normal thing to say.

“You and Steve are sharing the plate,” Jonathan points out.

“That’s different,” Robin shrugs.

Jonathan shakes his head at her, then moves on: “I love the storytelling that is happening in it. I love capturing little moments where in people shine through, like in this other one on this page of Mike and Will. The Whipped Cream one.”

Whipped Cream is of Mike and Will both in neat suits. Will is eating some cake, but has some whipped cream on his upper lip. Mike is smiling softly at him, shaking his head fondly as he wipes away the whipped cream with his thumb. Will is staring dumbly, looking very love stricken.

“It was truly luck that I managed to catch that one and I’m so pleased. It’s such a cliché and I love that,” Jonathan says. “And then the next one – sorry, I’m kind of speeding through these, but otherwise it’s too long.”

“Go ahead, baby boy,” Argyle encourages him from behind the camera as Robin and Rose both nod and gesture to go ahead.

“Feel free to interject,” Jonathan says anyway. “So, the next one is Talks of Love.”

The photo that appears is of Argyle, Nancy, Robin and Rose. Argyle is smiling widely, having Nancy under one arm and Rose under the other. Robin is holding Rose’s hand and resting her face happily against her arm.

“This is the transition photo to later in the night when people started drinking,” Jonathan explains. “Argyle had taken his officiant role a little seriously and he was speeching. It was really cute and romantic.”

“He was waxing poetry about you and Nance, of course you think that’s cute,” Robin says.

“Hey, I was talking about the beauty of love and how we’re all connected, man,” Argyle speaks up from behind the camera to defend himself.

“You still remember what you were talking about?” Rose asks, sounding surprised.

“Nah, he’s just has been repeating the same speech about love since ‘86, you just haven’t heard it as much because we had less time to get stoned together since we met,” Robin says.

“And it’s amazing every time,” Jonathan defends Argyle.

“Ahw, thank you, baby boy,” Argyle says, smile obvious in his voice.

“Whipped,” Robin hollers.

“I have let you talk about your wife and your wedding for hours now, don’t you fucking dare do this to me, Robin. Let me live in peace and let’s just go talk about the conga line,” Jonathan says, pointing accusingly at Robin to punctuate his sentence.

“Let me live in peace and let’s just go talk about the conga line,” Robin repeats, dying of laughter as she does.

“What did you name that one?” Rose asks, leaning over to see if she can read it, but her view is getting obscured by Robin, who is still laughing.

“Conga Line of 1994,” Jonathan answers, a little embarrassed about it.

As the title suggests the photo is of Argyle, Dustin, Eddie, El, Lucas, Joyce Robin, Rose and Steve forming a conga line. It is clear that some, if not most, of them have had a little too much to drink at this point.

“Joyce totally started that conga line,” Robin recalls, mirth in her eyes. “She said I do not have to drive or be responsible and I respect that about her.”

“You were the second person in the conga line, love,” Rose reminds her.

“Yeah, because I have taste, thank you,” Robin sniff snootily.

“It was pretty great, I loved it. I couldn’t not photograph it. It’s just delightful and shows the vibes the wedding got when it went on for a little,” Jonathan agrees. “Which is even more visible in the other two, starting with Kiss the Bride.”

Kiss the Bride is of Robin, her bow tie undone along with the top buttons. She is hanging of a smug Rose and is covered in lipstick kisses, looking quite pleased with herself as she grins into the camera. Rose’s lipstick is smudged.

“I have this one framed on my desk,” Robin says. “I love that photo.”

“Really?” Rose asks, blushing. “Don’t you share your office space with your coworkers?”

“Yeah,” Robin answers as if that means nothing to her. “If they want to make a comment about it, they are just getting a ramble about you and how great my wife is. Their choice.”

“God, you’re a doofus,” Rose tells her affectionately, before coyly adding: “I love how you look in my lipstick.”

“Same,” Robin sighs dreamily.

“Not to interrupt you two being gay for each other, but-” Jonathan starts out. He gets interrupted by Robin hollering: “Too late.”

“I knew that,” Jonathan sighs fondly, nudging her with his elbow. “I just wanted to add how this one along with Off to the Wedding Bed is some hilarious visual storytelling. Do you remember yelling that everyone had to leave, because you were going to fuck your brand new wife?”

“Yes, I did, Jonathan. It’s almost like I have two of the most annoying roommates, who like to remind me of that humiliating moment every time they have an opportunity,” Robin deadpans, exaggerating her pout.

The photo they’re referencing has appeared on screen and is of Rose’s back. She has lost her veil and train and currently has Robin slung over her shoulder, obviously carrying her off. Robin is cackling as she looks into the camera. Eddie is whistling in the foreground and Steve is clapping as he grins, next to them is Nancy, who is shaking her head fondly.

“You jumped in my arms right after,” Rose reminisces with a sappy smile. “You’re so cute.”

“It was mortifying,” Robin says. “I had to face everyone of them the next day covered in hickeys. They all knew.”

“I think they all already kind of guessed,” Rose informs her.

“We totally did, brocacho,” Argyle agrees.

Robin buries her head in her hands, before straightening out again. She’s still flushed but determined: “No, I refuse to be embarrassed. I love my wife and I am horny for her, always have been. You all can go suck my dick!”

“Love the energy, handsome,” Rose laughs.

“Same energy you had that night,” Jonathan adds, which earns him a shove from Robin, though she’s laughing too.

Jonathan bounces right back and adds: “I do think that Eddie, Steve and Nancy really add to the photo. I know we’re joking about it, but this book celebrates queer sex too, despite how it is often deemed perverted and wrong. I love how we made something lovely out of it.”

“Same, honestly. I felt like such a predator for so long, because I was attracted to girls,” Robin agrees. “And it’s just as beautiful as other sex. Just as nasty too, but we won’t talk about that right now. Shout out to all the nudes you took that didn’t make it in. We could have had a whole page of Argyle nudes or Nancy nudes.”

“Shut up,” Jonathan squeals, pushing her over this time as she cackles.

Robin pops right back up, like nothing has happened, then demands: “Let’s talk about the morning after photos.”

“Do we have time for that?” Jonathan asks Argyle.

“It’s already pretty long, baby boy,” Argyle answers.

“Maybe we should just leave it here,” Jonathan offers apologetically.

“But I wanna talk about those photos,” Robin pouts. “Can’t we part two it? Come on. I need something to rub in Steve’s face.”

“You should have lead with that,” Jonathan jokes, before finishing up: “That was a behind the scenes of the wedding of Robin and Rose, thank you both for being here.”

“Thanks for having us,” Rose replies politely.

“Yes, thank you for giving into my demands,” Robin teases.

“We’re going to do a hopefully shorter part two, so until then I guess?” Jonathan says. “Bye.”

“Bye!” Robin waves excitedly

“Goodbye,” Rose smiles.

~~

A/N:

I kind of didn’t say a lot about certain pictures, because I didn’t want it to get too long and I let chaos reign and kind of flesh out this relationship more :D

[void-flesh]

Do you have any tips for getting started making zines? A friend and I want to find a way to disseminate information and encouragement to women and queer people in our country, but I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed with the task and where to begin. I'm not much of a visual artist, and I want it to be valuable for those who pick up the zine.

Hi! Its awesome that you wanna start making zines! I have a few thoughts and suggestions:

1. Especially if you are making an info zine and not an art zine, I personally think its more important for it to be readable (text is big enough and in a legible font, etc) so don’t stress too much about making it super aesthetic. That said I do have some easy suggestions for making it look good if you aren’t an artist 2. To get started, don’t even worry about layout, just get all the information and content you want written 3. My personal preference for info zines is half page zines, since they’re an easy format to make and recognizable as a booklet. 4. To make it eye catching you can print the cover on colored paper, and get an artist friend to draw something or just grab some free art off the internet. 5. Remember that the great thing about zines is that they’re informal and imperfect by design, so I think that if you are excited for the work then people will also be excited for it! Please feel free to DM me or ask more questions if you want! It sounds like a wonderful project

[queer-starwars-bracket]

Queer Star Wars Characters (Round 1): General Bracket Match 30

TK-421 | Identity: mlm | Media: “OF MSE-6 And Men”

TK-421 was a stormtrooper stationed in a Maintenance Unit of the Death Star and friendly with the mouse droid MSE-6. TK-421 had an affair with Grand Moff Tarkin. He was happy to be Tarkin’s sugar baby and intentionally assumed a more naive and backwater persona, guessing that’s what Tarkin would want. He was excited to be reassigned to a cushy position on Coruscant “guarding” Tarkin’s penthouse where he could enter MSE-6 into droid races. Even before beginning his affair with Tarkin, he was concerned with his appearance and had an eye for aesthetics. He is the stormtrooper that Luke disguises himself as in A New Hope. When he went to investigate the Millenium Falcon, our heroes killed him. In the scene where a mouse droid approaches the disguised Luke and Han and is scared away by Chewbacca, that is MSE-6 fetching TK-421 to bring him to Tarkin’s private quarters.

Jordan Smythe | Identity: mlm | Media: “A Good Kiss”

Jordan Smythe was a tauntaun handler on Echo Base and the crush of the runner of Chase Wilsorr. Albeit through the eyes of Wilsorr, he comes off as confident but also kind. He would flirt with Chase when the runner brought him caf, but Chase’s own anxiety kept him from being anything other than starstruck. During the evacuation of Echo Base, he didn’t want to leave behind his favorite tauntaun, named Sunshine. Chase used his knowledge of the base’s layout to find Jordan and lead him and Sunshine to the transport. When they boarded the transport, Jordan kissed Chase.