#trailer park! au

[coryosbaby]

18+, MDNI !! ♡

༉‧₊˚. Rafe Cameron x fem! Reader

Thinkin’ of Rafe Cameron + trailer park! Au <3 being his neighbor and also Barry’s younger sister, Rafe always giving you long glances and licking his lips whenever his eyes land on your cute little sundresses or tight jean shorts. Letting you have a smoke break with him because Barry doesn’t allow you to have cigarettes— he holds the lighter up and lights it for you every time. Slipping you a bottle of alcohol, inviting you into his empty trailer and letting you sprawl out on his bed as you pass it back and forth.

“Truth or dare?” He asks, and the game goes on for a good twenty minutes before you answer dare. Rafe’s eyes stare down at your pouty mouth, a small smile on his own as he says, “I dare you to kiss me.”

Your eyes widen, a blush creeping up your neck. A grin spreads out on Rafe’s handsome face, his hand moving up to your cheek. He rubs your lip with his thumb, spreading out the glossy red lipstick you had applied a few hours prior.

“Cmon,” he presses. “‘s part of the game, Kitty cat. Jus’ a little peck.”

You’re blushing still, a little drunk— when he had begun to call you that? Never before now, but you like it— you like it a lot.

You set the bottle of vodka down beside the bed and scoot closer to him. He smells like cologne and soap, and stubble is on his face from a forgotten shave. You look down at his hands, just for a moment. One is on his crotch, a small star tattoo on his middle finger etched in black ink. Your eyes flick back up to his lips, and you lean in.

Your plush lips hit his and it’s like the air in the room shifts. Rafe lets out a relaxed sigh, pretty lashes fluttering shut as he hungrily moves against your mouth. Your fingers card through his messy bangs, pushing them back from his forehead. Heat grows between your legs, a small ache beginning to form when rafe’s hand moves lower and lower until it reaches your hip. He grips the soft skin there, gently squeezing. You let out a whine, little tongue lolling out of your mouth to slip into his own. He groans against you, spreading his legs so you can crawl in between them. He pulls away from the kiss, letting you lean back against his chest. Your lipstick is smeared onto his mouth and the sight makes you dizzy.

“horny, kiddo? I’ve barely touched you.”

You don’t say anything. Letting out a tiny mewl, your hand grasping his and guiding it underneath the hem of your dress. Little pussy so wet and throbbing that rafe can’t help but drool over it :(( his fingers circling your clit through your cotton panties, his other arm wrapping around your throat so he can adjust you just how he likes. Your thighs spread and you lift them up, letting him see the outline of your plump pussy more. His fingers slide underneath your panties, finally coming into contact with your aching sex.

“Shit, such a wet little pussy..” and then, slipping a finger inside your hole, “and so tight, momma. You a virgin?”

You nod, a pout on your lips. He grins, slowly massaging your walls with the pad of his middle finger.

“Baby’s never had her kitty cat touched, huh?”

“Rafe..” you mewl, and he tsks.

“Don’t think that’s what you wanna be callin’ me,” his movements speed up, your eyes beginning to roll as he squeezes in his ring finger alongside the other. “Daddy might be a better fit, yeah?”

A gasp tumbles out of your throat, thighs shaking.

“Yes,” It’s an instant reply. “Yes, yes, daddy. Please..”

He chuckles at your eagerness, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Good girl. Pull those panties to the side, baby, let me see.”

You can’t disobey him, and so your fingers hook into the crotch of your gingham cotton panties and you slide the fabric to the side. Your cunt glistens with sweet slick, swollen clit poking out due to your arousal.

“Oh,” Rafe breathes, almost in a trance. “Such a pretty girl..”

He rubs against that spongey spot inside you— or, more so, stabs that spongey spot inside of you, his fingers scissoring apart your achy cunt ‘n making it burn while also giving you the most delicious friction. It’s fast, a little animalistic, and you love it. Sobs tear through your throat, the only form of purchase for your hands being Rafe’s big, muscled thighs, your head sinking deeper and deeper into his shoulder with every course of pleasure. A third finger makes its way inside your cunt, your eyes widening as big as saucers. Rafe’s got a smile on his face and a glint in his eyes.

“We’re gonna stretch you nice ‘n good, kitty cat,” and then, watching your slick drip and your hole widen for him, “That’s it, look at daddy fingerin’ this little slut cunt open. We’re gonna have some fun tonight, aren’t we, baby?”

@mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

September

He doesn’t talk to the Munsons much. (Doesn’t talk to anyone, really, aside from his mom and Robin and that one older woman who keeps renting and returning Gone With The Wind as an excuse to leave her house.) He keeps his head down and his nose clean, doesn’t care to make friends with the neighbors; just wants to get by.

One day Eddie approaches their door, waving a gas bill that got mixed up in their mail, and Steve greets him pleasantly enough.

“Stab anyone today?”

“Eat glass, Harrington.”

So it goes.

Steve watches the world pass and the weather turn, lets the hours bleed into weeks and squeezes his eyes shut against the flashbacks when they threaten to overwhelm.

Things with his mom are weird.

They don’t really speak, preferring to shrug their way past each other with careful, tight-lipped nods, and his mom takes these pills the doctor gave her that keep her perfectly pleasant and calm. Silent. Physically present but not really here.

And he can’t imagine how it feels to be her: Florence Harrington, ripped from the comforts of the upper crust and left to rot in a tin can seven miles across town. She spends most of her time letting out weary little sighs as she swans from room to room, drifting like a shade on the banks of the River Styx. (He can make that reference now because Robin won’t shut up about mythology. “It’s so gay, Steve. The Greeks were literally so gay.”)

Anyway.

Shit’s weird with the kids, too. He still drives them around — lets them loiter at Family Video when it’s slow; hangs around when they need a ride to the arcade or the movies or the skating rink; and he’s still on the hook for ‘ice cream. for. life,’ so…

It’s just not the same.

Like. Not to be dramatic, but who the fuck is Steve Harrington without the house and the pool and the free-for-all fridge? Just some kid with a car and a bat and a punchable face. And he can barely afford to keep the car now, anyway, so pretty soon they won’t need him for that, either. They’ll learn to drive; they’ll get their own jobs. Maybe Lucas builds enough muscle to take over as the party tank.

Maybe it’s better if he shelfs himself now before they realize he’s become obsolete.

“Oh, my god, you’re being pathetic,” he groans to himself. His voice is muffled where he’s lying face down on the couch. Ridiculous behavior, because everything is fine; Steve is fine. In the grand scheme of things where there are monsters and melted corpses and all kinds of crazy, horrible shit?

Yeah.

He’s being obnoxious. It’s a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon with just the right Autumn breeze going — gentle but cool; long sleeve polo weather; his favorite kind — and he’s sitting inside throwing himself a pity party.

Fucking absurd.

…Five more minutes.

Just five more minutes, then he’s getting off this couch.

He gets to a minute and a half when he hears the crunch of tires against the gravel, the clanging of a little bell from the handlebar of a bike, and then:

“STEVE!!!”

And that’ll be Dustin, trying to bang the door off the hinges and piss off the whole park at the same time. Kid’s nothing if not a multitasker. Steve lets another aggrieved groan loose into the couch cushion.

His mom’s out with the car; the lights are all off. Maybe he can just play dead ‘til Dustin leaves? He loves the kid, he really does, but his left ear is full of static, and he just wants to fucking sleep. Or sulk. Or both.

“STEVEN CHRISTOPHER, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”

Jeeeeesus Christ. “Okay, chill,” Steve grumbles as he hauls himself upright and throws open the front door. His limbs feel like lead; there’s drool on his chin. “Wake the whole goddamn neighborhood, why don’t you?”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, and half the people here work nights.”

“Oh-kayy,” Dustin drags out the word, “but you don’t.”

Ugh. Whatever. He’s not gonna be shamed by a toothless teenager for his depressing loser tendencies. “Did you need something?”

Steve scratches at his belly hair through his shirt, feels a muscle twinge in his shoulder and send a spark of nerve pain skittering up to the base of his skull.

Dustin either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve’s body is falling apart where he stands, because he just rolls his eyes and says, “Uh, yeah. I need to know why you’re avoiding everyone? Mom’s tried to invite you to dinner six times now.”

“I was working.”

“All six times?” Dustin glares. Steve feels a little pinned by it, feels guilt seeping through the cracks as he fidgets with his bad ear. This kid’s gonna be the scariest lawyer some day. “She’s worried.”

Goddammit.

Guilt squeezes hard behind his ribs; he knows Dustin uses his mom as a mouthpiece for the feelings he can’t express. “I’m fine,” he sighs, letting his eyes and voice go soft. “Honest.”

Dustin holds firm, gaze fierce and fists clenched. “Bullshit,” he insists.

“Man, don’t—”

“Bull. Shit.”

Suddenly, their impromptu interrogation gets interrupted by a crashing drum fill, a shriek of electric guitar as Munson’s van squeals into the lot. He’s blasting some melodramatic metal shit about wizards or whatever; Steve doesn’t know. He only knows that the skitter of nerve pain he felt is ramping up to a fullblown migraine now because this guy has to listen to his racket at full fucking volume, apparently, and isn’t this all just “fucking great.”

—

part 5

[foxprism]

Hello gamers, finally posting again after three months lmao. Had another art block again and several bigger assignments for uni to do, what's new. But here's a new Steddie piece :>. Drew this for a fanfic of one of my favorite ao3 authors + tumblr mutual @wynnyfryd called "i don't know, you figure it out", which you can find on here under the tag #trailer park steve au and on ao3 (It's so good, if you like steddie you gotta read it)! Had a lot of fun planning Ed's tattoos here heh

[eddiesghxst]

whenever it rains, it’s ridiculously loud in eddie’s trailer, you could practically sleep outside and get the same experience (aside from getting a little wet, obviously).

eddie, however, because he’s lived there for so long, doesn’t hear a thing. he sleeps like a baby through every single noise you could imagine, not even flinching when a small hail storm blows through. at first you don’t understand, you think eddie’s insane because how could anyone sleep soundly with this much noise going on?

until one night, you’re at your own house tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you give up and drive over to eddie’s because for some fucking reason, you admittedly miss it. you miss the loud pelting of rain and the whistling of the wind with the scraping sound of tree branches against the tin-like roof.

eddie’s mad that you drove in the middle of a storm, but let’s you in either way. you don’t tell him why you came, but eddie seems to understand when you both lay down, tangled in each other and let the loud beating of rain fill out the silence of his room. eddie can physically feel your body relax into his and he immediately knows—- he gets it because he’s the same way. it barely takes 5 minutes before you’re both knocked out and snoring.

eddie definitely teases you about it at the table the next morning, makes a joke that “you should just move in at this rate,” but wayne quickly shuts that down, “save up and move in next door, kids, i don’t need to see anymore than i’ve already seen.”

[glitterinmyveinss]

// say yes to heaven //

johnny knoxville x reader

authors note: Johnny goes by PJ, some things might be innacurate apologies in advance, mentions of homophobic slurs (i can say it)

❥༄ It's a warm july evening, the sunset sky looks like cotton candy, the kids are still out playing, and me and pj are on the steps of his trailer drinking some cold beers. i've known pj ever since me n my mom first moved to Tennesse at age 5. i ponder back on that moment, the memory still fresh in my mind.

❥༄ "y/n! get your boxes from the back of the uhaul girl!" my mother shouted. i sighed and made my way from the empty field to the back of the van we came in while my mother put her belongings inside our new home. a boy around my age with dark chocolate hair, warm brown eyes, and a horrendous haircut came up to me. "are you my new neighbors?" he asked enthusiastically. i nodded shyly. "cool! i'm pj by the way. my trailers right there." i glanced over to where he was pointing. i noticed a brown trailer with white stripes, white steps, and various beer cans and cigarette butts littering the patch of grass in front. i turned back to him and introduced myself back. "my names y/n. my parents divorced so we moved here." "mine are divorced too! wanna be friends?" we've been inseparable ever since.

❥༄ i set down my can with a sigh and put my hands in my hair. i've lived in the same trailer ever since, things never really got better for me and my mom. i started working at the local jcpennys working the beauty department but that's it, and Pjs been working with his dad at his auto repair shop ever since we were 13. pj turned to look at me, his brows furrowed and his eyes fixated on me. "what's troublin' you doll?" i picked my head up with a sad smile. i loved when he called me that. "whens it gonna get better peej?" i let out a dry chuckle. "i mean are we just gonna stay in this town our whole lives? living pay check to pay check?" he huffed and turned away from me. "i don't know y/n...why are you bringing this up?" "because i don't want that to be my life pj. maybe it was good for our parents but...don't you want different?" he took another sip from his can and a long drag from his cigarette and was quiet for a while. "of course i want different but it's not that simple y/n...plus the world needs workers like us and our parents anyway." i couldnt belive what he was saying. it was so out of character for him. he was never one to conform to society despite us growing up in the south where you'd get called a fag for just about anything. but people didn't care when it came to pj. he could be wearing a tutu and still look cool. that's why i didn't understand why he was giving up his future to stay in a town like this when the world had so much more to offer him, to offer us. "you know, i don't get you sometimes pj." i threw my can on the porch and sat up. "when are you gonna wake up y/n?" he shouted at me. i looked at him wint utter confusion painted on my face. he stared back at me with those piercing dark eyes. anytime i looked into them, it was like i was stuck in place, and like the rest of the world was no more, just me and pj. "w-what do you mean?" i spoke. he scoffed at me and continued, still shouting. "do you think it's that easy? that we can just leave this all behind and start a new life like that?" i huffed in frustration and crossed my arms, "that's not what i meant and you know it. i just meant that we both have dreams pj. what about your writing?" he turned away from me and shook his head, his eyes were even darker now due to his mood. i noticed there were imprints on his can due to his grip on it. "what about my writing y/n? you heard my dad." a while ago, pj shared with his dad his dreams of being a writer, and how he wanted to write for this magazine in LA, just to get his foot out the door. his dad didn't take it well at all and said he better get the wrench he asked for because writing won't pay the bills. i stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. pj got up to stomp his cigarette out. when he was done he locked eyes with me. he stared at me with such intensity, it made my knees buckle and my stomach flip. maybe it's a good thing he wore shades 99.9% of the time. i wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug him, let him know that anyone who doubted him didn't know what they were talking about. that me and him could make it on our own. but we were just friends. and he was even more stubborn drunk than he was sober. he turned to go inside then stopped. "you better get home y/n...it's getting dark." i felt the tears sting the corners of my eyes, like bees in the summer time. this wasn't the first time we fought like this, but it's the first time he didn't invite me in afterwards. usually he'd say something along the lines of sorry, or how he has some left over apple pie he needs help eating, really he would say any excuse. but this time, it was like he wanted nothing to do with me. "you're a coward philip and you know it." i shouted. "you have just as much potential as anyone else in this world to do something great, but you're scared!" he stayed with his back towards me, his fists clenched and his head low. "leave y/n."

❥༄ i stared at him until my vision became blurry with tears, which didn't take long. i've always been emotional. i ran away from him, in the direction of our old elementary. i always went there when things became too much to handle and i just needed somewhere to escape to. once i got there i sat on the old rusty swings that squeaked each time you swayed. i felt like shit. maybe i was too hard on pj. it's just that all i wanted was for me and him to have a good future. maybe the reason why i got so mad was because i imagined our futures would be us as lovers, not best friends. i wish i brought one of those beers before i left. i heard rustling coming from my left side and when i turned to look, i saw pj. i turned away and stared at the ground. it was quiet for a while while he sat on the swing beside me. "i'm sorry doll. i didn't mean to yell at you like that, you know how i get when i drink coors." i began to sob as i spoke, "no peej i'm sorry, i was too hard on you." i put my head in my hands and hid my face. pjs eyes scrunched up as he began laughing at me. "oh come on y/n, no need to bring out the water works. we're all good girl" he moved his hand and began rubbing my back. i sniffled and picked my head up, turning to him with a small smile that he returned.

❥༄ it was like that for a while. just me and pj swaying back and forth, till he spoke up. "you know i'm not a coward y/n..." i faced him and frantically began explaining myself. "i know pj i'm sorry it's j-" he cut me off. "the only reason why i'm not doing what i want is because... i wanna keep you close to me." i stayed staring at him. my eyes wider than usual, and my lips tucked between my teeth. "the magazine i wanna write for is based in LA. that means i would have to move there." i remained quiet. he turned to look at me. "come on y/n say some-" it was probably the alcohol more than me, but out of no where, i decided to kiss him. his lips were warm snd soft, i could still taste the cigarettes and coors on his breath. i felt euphoric and nauseous all at once. i pulled away awkwardly and faced him. "i'm sorry peej, i don't know-" he cupped the side of my face and pulled me in for a second kiss. after a minute we pulled away, but we were stuck staring at eachother, like one would disappear if the other dared to look away. "i'll go with you." i spoke, barely above a whisper. pj scrunched his face in confusion. "pardon?" i rolled my eyes at him. sometimes he was such an airhead. "i'll go with you to LA. just say the word and i'll go pj." he stared at me with a goofy crooked smile and picked me up from the swing. i squealed as he threw me over his shoulder. "let's start packing then. we'll get the first flight out as soon as we're done." even though i was upside down and felt dizzy, i couldn't be happier.

[thediktatortot]

Son Of The Landlord Steve Harrington who lives in the double wide at the front of the trailer park and spent all his money on a nice car.

Trailer Park Queen Billy Hargrove who has some money from winning a lawsuit and relaxes in his above ground pool in the front lawn.

Local Crazy Eddie Munson who is a bit of a conspiracy theorist but it's only demons and aliens.

Fuck Boy Tommy Hagan who lives with his grandma and invites girls home to sleep on her bed.

[aliea82]

Is it me or are some peoples profiles disappeared? The Trailer park Steve fic has disappeared and the Captains log comic has also! Is it just me?

[starfxkr]

maybe rafe has a drug hookup in the same trailer park so he sees trailerpark!reader around when he’s there and he likes to rile jj up by trying to flirt with her

oooo i could see that...like this rivalry is still simmering under the surface

[magnoliabloomfield]

@tacosandtouchtanks @tinabelcherdoppleganger

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU

part 1

“Are you lost?” Munson frowns, propping his shoulder against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest. His rings glint against his jacket sleeve; he’s got new tattoos on his fingers.

Steve’s head fills with static fuzz for a second, and he stares like a mouth-breathing idiot before helpfully answering: “Um.”

“…Right. Well, this has been weird as shit, man, but, uh— pharmacy’s closed until my uncle leaves at sundown, so…” He lifts his hand to make a shooing motion, then pauses, assessing Steve with narrowed eyes. “What are you all dressed up like a good little school boy for, anyway? Didn’t you graduate last year?”

Oh, okay. Wow. (Like, yeah, he does kinda look like some goody two-shoes freshman with Robin’s forgotten backpack hiked up way too high under his armpits, but also fuck you, dude.) Steve squares his shoulders, plasters a falsely polite smile on his face and cocks his head to the side, all innocent, like he doesn’t know, like he’s just asking, man. “Sure did. Weren’t you supposed to do that, too?”

Munson glares at him like he’s imagining doing to him what Misty did to the rat. “I really don’t want to fight this early in the morning, man.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Steve snorts. “What, Munson? You gonna beat my ass? Think you can take me? Go ahead.”

He doesn’t know why he’s egging on a fight, but he’s suddenly itching for one. Feels the urge bubbling up beneath the surface. Hot under the collar. Probably this is the part where Tommy would hold him back and tell him it isn’t worth it, man, come on, but Tommy’s not around anymore.

A lot of people aren’t around anymore.

Nobody fights for fallen kings.

So Steve bows up with a sneer and a huff, and Munson does the same, and that’s… concerning. It gets a hell of a lot more concerning when he flashes a menacing grin and claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder; gets right up in his face, nose to nose, breath sharp with spearmint to cover the scent of weed.

From Wayne’s point of view they might almost look like friends.

Steve barely hears the thwck slice past his bad ear before he feels the cold press of a blade against his throat. Pocket knife, unpocketed. Munson’s smile widens, and Steve swallows hard, feels his pulse jump against the blade, the blood rushing to his cheeks. It shouldn’t be hot. (And it isn’t, because it shouldn’t be.)

“You want to try that again?”

Munson’s voice is deadly soft, a raspy whisper that makes Steve’s hair stand on end. His eyes are huge and dark. Intense. Kind of endless.

Kind of like Nancy’s when she’s staring down a loaded gun.

Steve blinks and licks the sweat off his upper lip, fingers trembling against frayed denim where he’s got his hands raised in surrender. “We’re c-cool, man. We’re cool. My mistake.”

Munson backs off with a pleased look on his face, snaps the knife shut and tucks it back into his pocket. Soft squeak of worn leather; casual shrug. “Cool. Glad we understand each other.”

Then he scruffs Steve under the chin — patronizing and quick, this humiliating little bullshit maneuver like ‘chin up, Steve-o’ before he hops down the steps and swings himself up into his van. The tires screech in the loose gravel, and Steve just stands there and stares. Gobsmacked. Pissed off.

A little stiff in his jeans.

When he looks down there’s a black cat brushing itself against his sneakers. “Misty?” he asks.

“M’row,” says the cat.

There’s a dead bird at her feet.

—

part 3

[cowboycyns]

im a big believer in y'allternative john marston

[stranger-rants]

The most ridiculous thing about living in a trailer park is that the people who run the park often stipulate what you can/cannot do to your home and the land around it. That being said, no one actually listens. People build rooms onto their trailers. People install decks and pools and garden beds. It’s a lawless land that many have attempted to govern. So, imagine son of landlord Steve is walking around the park. He notices Billy and Eddie and Tommy chilling in Billy’s stupidly large pool and goes ‘Y’know you gotta uninstall that pool, Hargrove’ and Billy replies ‘eat my ass’ and Steve just shrugs ‘Alright’ and gets in the pool with them.

[pistachiozombie]

[Modern Hobbit AU Doodles] x Trailer Park Boys Featuring Sven and Bofur hehe

[here4thetrama]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington's Mother, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Mild Gore, Guns, Accidental Death, don’t worry it’s just steve’s dickhead dad, Steve Harrington Has PTSD, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Knifeplay, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Poverty, trailer park steve au Summary:

Fall, 1985. After the Starcourt “mall fire” devastates their family and finances, Steve Harrington and his mom move into the empty trailer across from the Munsons.

[yummycrummy]

Ok, I was seeing again the doodles of Sr and Manny being human and Lesley being a puppet, and uhh, what happened with the mirror twin?

I mean, are Sr and UCR and Manny and Doi normal twins?

I don't see how a human can change batteries or have a mirror twin so that doubt get stuck in my head

They wouldn't have batteries- they're human

[harringrove-prompts]

Billy becomes Eddie’s neighbor in the trailer park.

1) Pre/No Starcourt - Neil is still around and living in the house with Susan and Max while Billy moves out. He has just enough money for a trailer and he can’t take living with Neil anymore but doesn’t have the means to leave Hawkins yet.

2) Post-Starcourt - Similar but Billy is in recovery, given money by the government but not allowed to leave yet because they’re monitoring him post possession, and becomes recluse. Max and Steve try to coax him out help him deal with what happened now that he has his own space that he’s safe in. Steve visits often to check up and take care of him since he’s alone.

3) Canon-Divergent Season 4/Post s3 Canon (no Vecna) - Billy returns from the Upside Down/Government holding/Russia and stays with Susan and Max now that his dad has left/is also neighbors with them in the trailer park with his own trailer. He’s not ready to re-enter society but does bond more with Susan and Max now that Neil has left and can’t hurt them anymore.

Billy knew Eddie as his dealer but they become friends because of their similar experiences and taste in music. Eddie gives Billy weed for his pain while he’s recovering and they get high together.

Billy thought Steve would be uncomfortable in or look down on Billy’s trailer but Steve really likes It since it’s not overwhelming and empty like his own house. He’d spend all day everyday there with Billy if allowed.

Steve and Chrissy have spotted each other slipping out of their respective boyfriends’ trailers at night/in the morning.