#its him its hanky code

[missinglaterals]

Drag-King Clown named Hank or Hanky (he/him)

[lemonofthevalley]

.

[babblingeccentric]

i am literally obsessed with your tags we ARE on the same wavelength

You 🤝 Me being the only people who truly understand modern sabo.

Arguing about what lenin really meant is foreplay to Sabo. I think he enjoys reading those stupidly dense texts on political philosophy. Meanwhile his brothers get their political philosophy from memes and rage against the machine lyrics. Thats why he left to live with Dragon.

Ivankov is a legendary drag mother who ran something similar to Marsha P Johnson's STARR (an org for homeless trans youth) and got imprisoned on bullshit charges for years and only just got out because Luffy went to visit Ace and ended up blowing up a prison.

Dragon is a semi-mythical hacker who is notorious for leaking info on government war crimes from a dragon fursona account.

Buggy is juggalo who made content specifically for juggalos and juggalos only for years before going viral on the larger internet and he is now frantically trying to manage his brand and cash in on the influencer craze.

Nami keeps posting pictures of her with her hookups on her snap stories to make Vivi jealous. She hangs out a lot at strip clubs and shit and will tip bottle girls and dancers outrageously if they flirt with her instead of trying to net Luffy (immune to sex appeal) Zoro (gay and broke) or Ussop (buys one lap dance and then starts lying about how he makes insane amounts of money)

Zoro would do ROUNDS as a leather daddy. Oda did not intend this but the way Zoro wears his bandana day to day he's flagging as a hard s&m dom in hankie code and I think this deserves to be addressed by fandom.

[iamthescalesofjustice]

upgrading my spirit warrior maric timeline to spirit warrior slash borderline hedge mage maric timeline, for the joy of it.

[gaberoothekangaroo]

oh man. rip. i had Thoughts in the tags. apparently theres a limit to tags. code ate like 2/3 of my thoughts. and i have 0% confidence in fandom participation that id be willing to write those thoughts up and either add them to the post or make my own post. so now i look like a tool with 1/3 of my unfinished thoughts on a small note post. serves me right for being up at 5/6am lmfao i guess

[sp0o0kylights]

You know what I want to see, I want to see more of Steve, Eddie, and Robin being 1980s small town kids from Indiana, by which I mean;

Robin is The Source of Gay Knowledge purely because her parents host Hippie Christmas and she managed to sneak away to find a neat bookstore in Indiana once. 

Her knowledge is not in depth. It's patchy, woven together through rumors, stories she heard or things she picked up from her parents' old pictures. She's got a handful of zines, one book, and some movies she managed to order for Family Video behind Keith's back.

She acts like she's Queen of the Queers because in Hawkins she pretty much is.

(Max and El ask her what a lavender marriage is once, something they overheard snooping around. 

Robin confidentially answers that it's code for when one woman dresses up as a man, fooling officials into wedding two woman.

She does not live this down two years later when they find out what it actually means.) 

Eddie doesn't spend every weekend in Indianapolis. 

Gas is expensive, his busiest days of his "job" is Friday and Saturday, and he has no fucking clue what the hanky code is. 

He's wearing that bandana because Metallica front singer James Hetfield has one on all their tour posters. 

Eddie does make it down to a gay bar though, by accident. Rick needed some back up for a shady deal. Promised Eddie a boatload of free drugs to sell if he agreed to just stand there and look mean. 

He was warned the bar they were meeting in was 'weird' and to not 'freak out' --which Eddie thought was hilarious given his nickname and general appearance, but whatever.

He doesn't understand when they get there, because it's just a bunch of hot men with hanky's in their back pockets everywhere.

Then he sees two women kissing and it clicks. 

He can't out himself in front of Rick, but one of the bartenders playfully dresses him down for his own hanky, letting him know all about the code and teasing him through his embarrassment. 

He's got an offer to come back and learn what color and which pocket his hanky should actually be in, a prospect Eddie was salivating at until Chrissy Cunningham up and died on his ceiling.

(He still wore the hanky, because the feeling of that bartender tugging it out and stuffing it back in might be the closest thing he's ever had to sex and he absolutely wants a repeat. 

He's young and horny, sue him.) 

Steve Harrington may not be academically smart but he's not dumb. 

He figured out a while back that the basketball team as a unit probably crossed the queer line more than once--or at least it did before Hargrove came in. 

( Brad Handly for example, went around slamming kids into lockers and screaming slurs like a fucking movie villain one Monday because the varsity team got dead drunk at Laura's party on Sunday and hey, look, there weren't that many girls there, okay?

They all had fucking hands and mouths. Everybody but Tommy was single and hot to trot. Nothing gay about it.

Its not even like they were kissing or treating each other like chicks. It was just Brad's first time and they got to tease him later for overthinking it. 

Dude graduated soon enough after and given Steve was on the team as a sophomore, he hadn't thought about the guy and why he might be freaking out so bad in years.) 

Robin's entire panic attack at Starcourt, and a few more after had Steve replaying that whole incident. Reframed it a bit, and, yeah.

In retrospect that had been extremely gay, actually. 

It sat with him a lot easier than he'd thought it would. Partially because of Robin, but mostly because that's just who he was.

Stranger things had happened to Steve and this one didn't want to kill, maim or otherwise eat him, so it got filed under 'interesting facts he should never tell his parents if he wanted to keep his trust fund' and then he went about his day. 

(Or he tried too, anyways.

It caught up to him when Eddie and Robin somehow figured out the other was queer and dragged him along to some bar Eddie had a standing invitation at, with demands for Steve to do what he did best.

Babysit.

Their magical trip was utterly destroyed when Brad Handly happened to be the very same bartender who had given Eddie the invite.

 Considering Brad's immediate bark of laughter followed by a hug and introducing himself as "Steve's gay awakening", Steve ended up having to speedrun through Eddie and Robin both having a crisis for him.

It didn't help that Steve had politely, and laughingly, corrected Brad with a casual; 

"Pretty sure that was Tommy man, but if it helps I think that tongue of yours gave Matt Burdon a crisis."

--which ended up with him answering a lot more gay sex questions with Brad than he cared too. 

At least he, through Brad, was able to help Robin connect to some local lesbians and--after a second crisis from Eddie regarding how Steve managed to have more sex than "the resident town freak and guy who actually knew he was gay, Steve!"-- even helped Eddie out by catching the metalheads tongue with his mouth later that evening.

The last one landed him a boyfriend, trust fund be damned.) 

[steddielations]

I get why you like sub Eddie but don’t forget how he wore that bandana in his pocket. If queer sexuality codes are anything to go by, that boy is dominant as hell.

LMAO so I’ve never taken the hanky as anything more than metalhead fashion, I don’t think it was intentional flagging, people are allowed to headcanon whatever they want of course, but if you’re going to take the hanky code as law and use it as the reason people aren’t allowed to write him as a sub, then by your logic he’s a switch because he wears it on both sides in the show, so keep the same energy when its in the other pocket (:

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I LITERALLY ONLY FINISHED EP 1 OF TLOU BEFORE WRITING THIS 😭 this man just has me going fucking insane rn i had to word vomit. spent my whole day on this bc im delulu

warning: homophobia and transphobia, trans fetishization, degradation/humiliation, slurs, vaginal sex, rough oral sex, NASTY daddy kink (like… borderline incest rp and ddlb maybe idk i just work here), hanky code, spit kink, breeding kink, gags, drug dealing (weed and opioids), reader is a sex worker/weed dealer with clit piercings

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/kitty, clit/(t-)dick

It started as a drug deal. A bad habit picked up after top surgery. A rumor that this guy sold opioids. A wink and a nod of the head from across the plaza during a hanging. A few hankies tucked in your jeans, two shades of blue on the right, light green and a flag on the left. You were never sure if he knew what they meant. You’d never had the chance to ask. Until today, you happened to have a favor to ask him.

“Look, you know I’m usually reliable, right? If you could just gimme more time, I promise I’ll get you an ounce on Monday, on me.” That was a pretty decent offer. You usually gave him a quarter of bud every trade, so an ounce for the same price was surely nothing to sneeze at.

“If you’re not ready today, you ain’t gettin’ shit today. Sorry, kid.” Fuck. Ah, well. At least he wasn’t mad at you. Plus, he always called you ‘kid’. It made sense, since he was definitely old enough to be your dad. Maybe he had a soft spot for you. And he certainly met the diagnostic criteria for DILF, but goddamnit, your gaydar couldn’t get a reading on him. You figured the best way to find out for sure would be to offer up your other goods and services and see if he takes the bait.

“Well, uh… maybe there’s…” You took a step closer to him, putting all your weight into your hips hoping they’d jump out at him, “…something else I can offer you?”

They didn’t. His stare never shifted from your face. “Like what?” Joel asked unclockably.

You took the tips of your hankies between your fingers and held them out to him, spreading your wings, a display for attracting mates not unlike that of a peacock. “You know what these mean?” You asked with a quirk in the brow and some devious faggotry in your voice.

Joel crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, a cocky, almost sort of try me type stance. “What do they mean?”

You named your hankies, one-by-one. Green, “This one means I’m a sex worker,” Trans, “This one means I have a pussy,” Navy, “This one means I get fucked,” and Cyan, “This one means I suck co-“

“I’m sorry, that one means what?” Joel interrupted, and pointed at your trans flag. He wasn’t just gonna let you gloss over that, just as you’d hoped.

“Oh, this one?” You pinched the tail of the trans flag and let the rest fall to your sides. A cheeky, cherubic, chaotic smile on your face as you taunted him. “It means I have a pussy. I’m trans.”

Joel’s face contorted in a few spasms of different emotions. A blink of shock, a blip of disgust, a second of intrigue, ‘til he landed on confusion. “So, uh…” His eyes crawled downwards to your crotch, then back up to you. “…how’s that work?”

Sure, you could give him the polite conversation explanation of the transmasculine identity, gender dysphoria and its treatments. Or, you could give the simplest and sexiest possible definition that would appeal to Schrödinger’s Straight Man over here. “Was born a girl, cut my tits off, shot up testosterone, and now I’m a man, but I kept my cunt.”

“Fuckin’ Christ…” He grunted, then cleared his throat, trying his damndest to remain calm and bloodbend his newfound erection away. Today was the wrong day for the light wash jeans. His growing bulge was the visual feedback of your influence on him.

A by-the-book boypussy sales pitch. Testing well with the focus group. You took another step with a sway of the hips, encroaching on his personal space but not penetrating it just yet. “Well? Whaddaya think?”

Joel bit his lip and said nothing for a moment. It seemed he was taking his time to figure out what exactly he did think about your revelation. “…Just 2 pills?”

“Just 2 pills…��� You nodded, “Just enough to last me the weekend…” and took another step closer, then one more, until you could reach out and rub his bicep. “I’ll bump you up to an ounce, get it to you on Monday…” Your curious fingers started to trail down his arms and over to his delightfully soft dad-bod tummy. “And I’ll show you a good time today… Show you something you’ve never seen before…”

To say you were coming on pretty strong would be a massive understatement. And, hell, touching him? You were coming on like you had a death wish. Your hand slid downward, down to the heat he was packing in his pants, and stroking his rifle in your game of tactile Russian Roulette.

You loaded the chamber…

“All for just two little pills. So?”

Spun the barrel…

“What do you say?”

And pulled the trigger.

“Please, Daddy?”

And with those two whorish words, he snapped. Joel grabbed you by the wrist and slammed you into the brick wall behind him. You gasped in shock and winced in pain. It happened so fast, you barely had any time to think about the mistake you’d just made, but before you could choke out an I’m sorry, his lips were on yours. You moaned into the kiss and he snarled into it, slobbering all over each other in a fit of lust.

“Bratty little fuckin’ queer. So you’re saying you have a cunt, huh, boy? No bullshit?” Joel sneered as he shoved his hand between your legs. He grabbed your crotch and squeezed it tight, delighted to find no bulge, nothing in his way but a few layers of clothing. “Ooh, damn, kiddo, guess you’re right. Ain’t you fuckin’ special…” He let your wrist fall so he could grab your jaw. “Open,” he commanded, and your lips obliged. He spat into your open mouth, and then his lips were back on you.

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his back, eventually clutching his hair and his shirt for lifelines. The second you’d laid eyes on this guy, you knew he’d be a good fuck, and you couldn’t believe your luck. That monumental gamble you took just now had won you the jackpot, and now it was time to bask in your victory.

Joel grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you out of the kiss. “You want your fuckin’ pills, cuntboy?”

“Yeees…” That was why you originally came to him, yes, but now you wanted a whole lot more.

“You want those fuckin’ pills?”

“Yeees, yes, I wan-em…”

“Say please.”

“Pleeease…”

“Please, what?”

“Pleeease, Daddyyy… P-Please, Daddy, I wan- I wan’ the pills…”

“You gonna suck your Daddy’s cock for ‘em?”

“Y-Yeees, Daddyyy…”

“So do it.”

Joel dropped you and let you stumble onto your knees in front of him. You rocked back and forth impatiently as he undid his belt and fished his cock out of his jeans. As you suspected, it was massive, flushed an angry shade of red, and throbbing painfully. He gave it a tantalizing stroke, peeling back the foreskin and pulling it taut on the rebound. You licked your lips at the precum leaking from its slit, waiting for his instruction.

“Open,” He demanded once more. You acquiesced, opening your mouth wide enough for him to stuff his cock in your throat. He let out a deep, husky, growl as he slid down your airway. “Yeahhh, that’s it… That’s it, kiddo…”

Even in your dickdrunk, cockgagged haze, you could guess what was coming next. In preparation, you braced yourself with your hands on his hips, and relaxed your throat as best you could for him to fuck it. Turns out, your intuition was right.

“Fuck, yeah, fuckin’… Fuckin’ choke on it, whore… Choke on Daddy’s cock.” He grunted, grabbed your hair, and held you still while he thrusted into your mouth unforgivably. Tears, snot, and drool were running down your face in no time, and Joel was loving it. “Aw, look at that, yeah, good boy…”

You whined reflexively at the praise, accidentally sucking some spit into your windpipe and choking you in a less sexy and more dangerous manner than intended. Your eyes bulged open and you slapped his thigh twice, tapping out. Thankfully, he got the hint and let you go.

You coughed up the spit and smacked your own chest to clear your airway. “Sorry… Wrong pipe…”

“Take your time.” Joel replied, “Not try’na kill ya.”

Once you could regulate your breathing and you were sure you weren’t at risk of death by blowjob, you got back to work, at your own pace this time. You had the chance to explore him. Stroking and squeezing his shaft and his sack, fluttering your tongue underneath his tip, licking long stripes from the balls to the head. Less force, but no less intensity.

“Ngh, little faggot sure knows his way around a cock, don’t he?” Joel snickered and ruffled your hair. “So good at this, I would’a never believed you don’t got one yourself.”

True, you may not have been blessed with a cock attached to you, but you’d gotten plenty inside you. Not exactly your hometown, but familiar terrain nonetheless. When you felt like you could, you swallowed his length whole, swiping your tongue along his balls as you gagged. Joel threw his head back and moaned into the air, and then, you rode him with your throat again.

“Fu-u-uck, oh, shit, yeah… Yeah, you suck Daddy’s cock… Suck your old man’s cock for pills, and you’ll get ‘em, son... You’ll get ‘em, you fuckin’ junkie.”

You’d honestly forgotten this was about pills. You just got so caught up in the love of the sport, it had totally slipped your mind. Though dangling the carrot of oxies in front of your spit-drenched face was as good an incentive as any, and despite the burning in your windpipe, you sucked him with more power, more speed, more emotion, and more determination. You could taste victory leaking and throbbing on your tongue.

“F-Fuck… I-… I can’t…” Joel’s face was a picture of overwhelming pleasure. He had to pull you off. His wet, pulsating cock popped out of your mouth, and he huffed and puffed wiping sweat from his brow. “As much as I’d like to dump a load in your stomach…” He nudged his boot in between your legs, right up against your burning cunt. “I need to see your specialty, first.” He extended a hand to help you off your knees, then when you stood, hugged you to him and spanked each of your ass cheeks, jiggling them both as he gave his next order. “Take off your pants and bend over. Let Daddy see that pretty kitty of yours.”

You giggled, a goofy, stupid slutty smile on your face, and nodded. “Hehehe, okay… Okay…” You unbuckled your pants and let your jeans drop to the dirt. You stepped out of them and kicked them aside. You turned 90 degrees, put your hands on the brick wall, and stuck your ass out to Joel. He took his place behind you, grabbed your ass, and spread you open to take a peek at your holes. You shivered as the cool breeze ran over your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, I can’t even remember the last time I saw a cunt like this…” Two of his fingers traced your slit then spread your lips, exposing yourself even more to him. He chuckled when he saw your dick piercing. “‘Specially not one with these fancy hood ornaments.” He couldn’t resist the urge to tug on the jewelry.

Naturally, your knees buckled beneath you and you slid down the wall. “A-Ah!” You squeaked, “F-Fuck! S-Sen-Sensitive!” You tried to warn him, but really you were showing off your weak point with the conspicuousness of a video game boss fight.

“Oh, yeah?” Joel scoffed and supplemented it with a smack on the ass. You could feel him kneel down behind you, and he said, “Good.”

And then his lips were on your t-dick and sucking it like a leech.

You had to scream, bad, but it was broad fucking daylight and FEDRA could show up at any second. Instead, you bit down on your hand, sinking all the energy into your teeth as your body collapsed in on itself. Before long, your cunt was dripping down into his mouth, so much so, that there was an audible splash when his lips let you go.

“Christ, you’re a mess. Gonna ruin my fuckin jeans, ‘f I don’t take ‘em off.” Joel stood up and out of his own pants then tossed them beside yours. You heard some more rustling of clothing, felt a swipe up your pussy, then a tap on your lips with wet fingertips. “Open,” he instructed yet again.

You opened your mouth to lick and suck at his fingers, or so you thought. Instead, they pulled away and gagged you with one of your own hankies. Judging purely by the texture, you deduced that it was the trans flag. You relaxed and let him tie the gag more comfortably.

“There.” Joel said, patting you on the ass affirmatively. “Now I don’t gotta worry ‘bout you bein’ a fuckin’ screamer.” Two strong hands took your hips and lined him up with his target. You could feel his head prodding, but not breaching your hole. “Ready?”

You bit down on the gag and nodded feverishly at him. He poked your hole once, then twice, then started to push in and ohmyfuckinggodhe’shugeimeanyouknewthatalreadybutfuckitfeelsbetterthanyouthoughtitwould.

Without the ability to articulate any of those words, you whimpered through the gag and clawed at the wall like a cat trying to get in the bathroom.

“Biiig stretch, kiddo, that’s it…” Joel groaned, “That’s a good boy… Daddy’s almost in…”

Almost in? What the fuck did he mean by-ohshitthatswhatthefuckhemeantbyalmostin… He was so fucking thick that the stretch nearly burned, and long enough to feel like he was excavating your pussy to make room for himself. It was mind-numbing how big he was. He took up not only all the space in your cunt but in your brain as well. You’d never had someone dig so fucking deep.

“There you go, nice and full.” He leaned down to kiss your neck and pin your wrists together above your head. “Daddy’s perfect little cocksleeve…”

He withdrew his hips, practically taking your cunt with him on the way out since it refused to let go, and then speared his cock back into you. His thrust was a shockwave that rocked through your whole body. You let out a garbled moan into the spit-drenched fabric each time he did it. Eventually, he had a steady tempo going.

“Nghhh, so fucking tight… Real fuckin’ tight for a whore. And you’re fuckin’ soaked…” He gave your ass another swat, then stopped moving for a moment. “C’mon, slut, fuck yourself back on your Daddy’s dick. Ride your Daddy’s dick, now-yeahhh, that’s it…” He purred as you started to bounce your ass on him. For a little extra encouragement, he reached out to pet your hair. And for some guidance and a little extra oomph, he slammed his hips forward in time with yours, making his cock hit you twice as hard. “That’s a good boy…”

It was unbelievable, almost intolerable how good he felt. You almost couldn’t bear the thought of fucking any of your regular clients ever again. This was a Flowers for Algernon-type dicking, the absolute pinnacle of nasty sex for just a little while, and you’ll spend the rest of your sex life downhill from here. You’d like to hope that wouldn’t be the case, but none of the other dick you’d gotten in the past could even compare.

And it all stemmed from asking for a front on some oxies.

Joel reminded you of that when he said, “Next time you’re needing a front, I’ll-ngh… I’ll make you work for it, whore… Take you home and fuck you in the ass instead… Let you scream as loud as you need to… Let that little pussy weep for me and it’s gettin’ nothin’… You want some painkillers, then you gon’ hurt for ‘em, son…”

Honestly, the idea of a ‘next time’ had you excited regardless of what hole he wanted to bust open. If you were lucky, maybe it’d be out of mutual enjoyment rather than an exchange. Soon, he struck that special spot inside you, that inner button that has you seeing stars and screaming obscenities into the flag gag. Your hands balled into fists and pounded at the wall. It was getting to be too much to bear. Of course, with your flag in the way, your cries of Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna come! sounded as, “Auck! Auck! Ah gah-ah cah!”

Luckily, Joel spoke fluent slut. “You’re gonna cum? Gonna cum for your daddy?” He knotted his fingers in your hair and yanked you up against his chest. He shoved you both forward until you hit brick, and without an inch of space for you to squirm, he rutted into you relentlessly. “Then do it, slut. Cum on your daddy’s cock. Daddy wants to feel his little man cum all over him.”

God, how could a sentence be so nurturing and so nasty at the same time? So sweet and yet so fucking sick? Regardless of Sigmund Freud screaming ‘I told you so’ somewhere in your head, you came buckets, splashing Joel’s thighs with pussy juice on his every thrust. Your legs gave out around the fourth or fifth gush, and Joel had to hold you up for him to finish.

“Fuck, yeah, keep coming, keep coming, baby, Daddy’s close…” Joel groaned. Every word he said grew more vile and more primal than the last. His only need was to breed. “Daddy’s gonna knock you up, son… Gonna dump some brothers and sisters into ya… ‘N’ you’re gonna fuckin’ take it… Ngh, gonna take my fuckin’ load in ya ‘cause you’re a little cumdump pussyboy whore… ‘S what you’re meant for-shit… Shit!”

He squeezed your body tight and growled into your ear. Hot spurts of his cum flooded your battered cunt. On any other occasion, you’d cringe at some rando calling his load your siblings, but it just felt so good. You couldn’t give less of a fuck what he called it. And it’s not like he was your actual father. He was committing to the bit, a bit that had you mewing and sobbing with pleasure and repressed emotion, but that was a problem for your therapist later.

The world went still as you both came down from orbit. The rest of the QZ didn’t exist in that moment. It was just you and your “daddy”, a man twice your age that you trade drugs with and who just busted a nut in you. Honestly, still a better father figure than most. Closest thing to a dad you had for damn sure.

You felt that paternal vibe from him as he kissed the side of your neck. “You okay, little guy?” Joel asked tenderly. He untied the gag and tossed the flag by your jeans, letting you answer him.

“Mm… Mhm… I’m okay…” You stuttered, still counting on his grip to keep you standing.

“Good boy.” A few quick pecks to your neck and he slipped out, a few drops of his kids pooling in the dirt below you. “Now get dressed. I got shit to do.” He demanded with a final slap on your ass.

You stumbled over to your pants, leaning onto the wall to guide yourself. Even after dressing himself, Joel got to them first, and held them out for you to step into.

“Yeah, there you go, kid. You’re okay.” He cooed, and then clapped you on the shoulders to get your attention. Your head snapped up to see him reach into his pocket and pull out a plastic bag wrapped in tinfoil. He fished out two white pills and gave them to you, just as you agreed to.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it,” You gave him a shy smile, feeling grateful for the front and the frenzied faux-father-son fucking he just bestowed upon you. “Oh, and, uh… I… I had a good time, s-so if you ever wanna-“

“I’ll see you Monday, kid.”

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Mushy May 2024 days 4 & 5: First Aid and Animals.

No animals are hurt, there is a therapy dog!

Not what I had in mind as the first installment of the Hell on Wheels Au, but I suppose it would be appropriate to call it an introductory crash course. Basically it's a human au where they're all into bikes and cars and rollerblades, with a little bit of mystery sprinkled in regarding the Emeritus family and the role they play in a predominantly Catholic town, led by the good (?) Father Defroque.

Rating: General with a blink and you'll miss it hanky code reference.

Word Count: 2.5k

Characters: Aurora, Aeon, Sunny, Aether, Dewdrop.

As always, thanks to @forlorn-crows for putting the event together and @askingforthesun for being interested in this au that I once thought would never make it out of my head. The worst injury I've ever suffered required a mere six stitches so if any description of the fracture and sprain and mild head injury is unrealistic, I apologize and blame it on the ghouls still being extraordinarily resilient even as humans.

“Rory!” Aeon yells as soon as she goes down, nearly crashing his own bike as he tries to stop in time. She's on the ground in a heap, all he can hear is the sick crack of her helmet when she fell. He shoves his bike to the side and off the trail as he rushes to her, heart pounding and palms sweaty under his fingerless gloves.

“God, fuck, Rory-” She's not moving. Is she unconscious or just unable to? His hands are shaking as he pats her over, takes her pulse, checks to see if the sprawl of her limbs is unnatural, if there's a bend where there shouldn't be. 

“Rory!” He repeats, heart pounding in his ears. Her helmet is still in one piece, no sign of cracking or damage so that means she's got to be okay, right? Why isn't she answering him? 

His first instinct is to lift her up under the arms, get her off the trail in case someone else came along but he freezes. Wasn't there something about not moving people after a bad fall? Something with their spine…what if he made it worse? What if his best friend was paralyzed because he tried to help her? And what if she was paralyzed already anyway? Dammit, why had he told her his first aid knowledge was good enough? There was a lot in her pack but the most he could do was clean up the scrapes and bandage them. Why isn't she waking up?

She groans quietly and he could cry with relief. 

“I'm calling for help.” He says, “Rory, I’m right here.” 

Her hand is moving feebly on the ground; he grabs it and squeezes it to let her know he won't leave. A futile gesture when he pulls out his phone and thumbs the pattern only to see the little exclamation mark that tells him there's no service. They're too deep in the trail.

“Oh fuck.” He mutters.

Aurora groans again, struggles out of Aeon's grip to pry her helmet off. Her dark hair is stuck to her flushed skin in sweaty clumps but there's no blood that he can see.

“Ow…” she hisses, touching her head gingerly. Aeon, a flash of an old first aid class coming back to him, turns on his flashlight, checks her pupils. They both react to the light, a good sign. She's looking around, brow furrowed. He can't tell if that's a good or bad sign.

“My bike…?” She asks, in typical Aurora fashion.

“Looks fine.” Aeon says after he checks over his shoulder for it. “What year is it?”

“I dunno, I’ve had it since I was little.” She answers and he frowns. “Oh, you mean this year. Right, concussion check.” She tells him, then says. “That's going on the channel.” She mumbles. “You got that footage, right?”

Her GoPro. It's still filming from its secure place, strapped around his neck. He could laugh. He could scream. After taking an awful fall like that, all she's thinking about is her vlogging channel?

“Can you stand up?” He asks, but she’s already trying, slowly working her way up to a sitting position.

“Feels great.” She wheezes, flopping back down with a wince. “Just gonna…take five.”

She reaches for her shoulder now, revealing a large and ugly scrape on her forearm, blood already coagulating into a filthy mixture with the dirt. That he can help with, as soon as he fetches the black cylinder strapped to the frame of Aurora's bike. Inside is anything he might need for this exact situation if he had the brains to use it but self deprecation isn't going to help Aurora. The wipes, the little ibuprofen packs and the gauze is what's going to help her right now. Any idiot could figure it out, he tells himself. 

Aurora grits her teeth at the sting of the wipes on her raw skin but bears it with patience as Aeon clumsily wraps her up. He tucks the ibuprofen under her tongue at her insistence; apparently it enters the bloodstream faster that way. He guesses it makes sense. Not like he hurts himself this regularly to know anything about the fine usages of painkillers. Still, he makes her swallow down some water so her mouth isn't too dry.

And then there isn't any more he can do. She can't even sit up without crying out in pain, clutching her side and even though she isn't saying anything, he's pretty sure there's something wrong with her ankle too. He saw the way she’d gotten tangled in the bike when she went down, an awful replay he can't shut off. He manages to coax her off the main trail, dragging under her arms while she kicks with her left foot to help. Props her up against a tree, gives her his snacks.

“Go.” Aurora says. “I promise I won't pass out.”

“If I meet up with anyone, I’ll have them get help and come straight back.” He promises. 

She tries to laugh and it hurts to see it. The sound of her coughing follows him as he picks up his bike and starts trekking back to the start. It takes him longer on foot but after seeing Rory crash like that, he's a bit wary of his own bike at the moment, his own skills too new to be tested and risk hurting himself. Only when he clears the jumping areas and sets down on the flat starting section of the trail does he get back on and peddle. From there it's easy and it isn't much longer until he's dismounting again, pulling off his helmet and checking his phone for service. The single bar he gets is almost taunting him. 

He's about to dial when a dog barks, then another. A cheerful voice cries out in return and from around the corner on the road comes the strangest sight he’s ever seen; a woman on rollerblades dressed like it's the 80’s being skated over the asphalt by a team of half a dozen mismatched dogs.

“Excuse me?!” Aeon calls out, abandoning his bike to break out in a jog. “Miss? Ma’am? Hello?”

“Stop!” The woman bellows joyously and somehow, each and every dog comes to a halt. Some sit, while others lay down and others still stand and guard the woman that serenely rollerblades through them like a sea of fur and slobber.

“Hey, honey.” She says with a bright grin. “What can Sunny do for you?”

“My friend, she's on the bike trail-” he starts. “Something went wrong on a jump and she crashed, she can't move, and I-”

“Breathe.” The woman says at the same time a cold, wet nose touches his overheated hand. He looks down into the friendly eyes of a golden retriever, who licks at his fingers. 

“Breathe,” the woman says again. Sunny. She introduced herself as Sunny. The golden retriever nudges his palm and he grabs hold of its fur. “You got someone who needs help, I can help.”

“I gotta get back to her.” He blurts out. “Please, an ambulance.”

“I know sweetie, I know.” All the exuberance from her expression is gone, but there's no worry in her eyes. Just determination and Aron trusts her immediately. She unclips a lead from her belt and passes to him.

“Let me take this crew back to my car while you take Sweetness there and get back to Aurora; she's an ex-therapy dog and knows her way around someone in pain.”

He thanks Sunny, watches her take off the way she came with her odd little crew and looks down at the dopey, panting grin of Sweetness the golden retriever staring back up at him.

“I didn't tell her who my friend was.” He says, befuddled. Sweetness just blinks and tries to check his pockets for treats.

______

She's coughing again when he gets back to her, setting his bike down and untying Sweetness' leash from it. For a dog going grey around the muzzle, the golden had kept up surprisingly well and it's with a tail waving like a flag that she beelines to Aurora, nudging her way under her arm and licks the dried tears off her face.

“Cinnamon?” Aurora asks, sounding confused. “How did you-”

“I met a woman on skates with a lot of dogs.” Aeon says, sitting down on her other side. “Do you two know each other?”

“Oh yeah.” Aurora says, kissing the dog’s head. “This is Little Miss Cinnamon Pooh Sweetness the 3rd. Her full name by the way, but everyone calls her Sweetness for short.”

“No.” Aeon says patiently. “The dog walker.”

“Oh, probably Sunshine. One of Mountain's friends. Good!” The exclamation sends her into another coughing fit that she tries to swallow down with water. “She's gonna get Aether, he volunteers at the free clinic.  Oh he's hot, you're gonna love him.”

“You have several debilitating injuries and all you can talk about is your damn influencer career and how hot some rando is.” He carefully ruffles her hair, avoiding the tender spot she touched earlier.  “One of these days, you’ll fall and get some sense knocked into you.”

“Til then, there's you.” She says, poking her tongue out with a wink. Aeon sighs loudly and scrubs at his face, staring up at the sky.

“Yeah.” He says. “I guess I can be your common sense.”

____

Aurora is right though. Aether is hot when he stumbles up on them, jogging at a neat pace with a whole-ass red paneled wagon stocked with supplies and Aeon isn't sure if laughing is appropriate. The way Sweetness bwoofs and wiggles away to try and herd Aether closer to Aurora doesn't help at all. He just scratches her absently, even feeds her a treat from his pocket. Good with dogs and good looking? 

Woof.

“Aurora.” He says sternly, looking down at the both of them. Aeon thinks that if the guy wasn't trying to be professional, he’d probably say something like “not this shit again”.

“My knight in khaki armor.” She says dreamily.  “I think I cracked my rib again. And there's something with my ankle.”

“Again?!” Aeon says in disbelief. 

“Again.” Aether confirms, mouth in a firm line as he squints. Aurora dimples up at him, lifting her arms as gently as she can, making grabby hands.

“Uppies?” she asks sweetly. “C’mon, show off those muscles to my buddy here, Aeth.” 

Aether looks at Aeon, who sweats under the stony gaze. 

“Can you help?” He asks. “I’d like to get her in the wagon without too much jostling.”

He might not be a beefcake like this guy, but Aeon still considers himself decently strong. Plus, Rory weighs like, a buck fifteen soaking wet. It's clumsy but they manage, with Rory hissing and cussing the whole time but it just makes Aether smile, shockingly.  He surveys his grumpy passenger and nods.

“I would be more worried if she wasn't cursing us to hell and back.” Aether says, picking up the handle of the wagon. “This isn't going to be a smooth ride, but it's definitely not the worst situation you’ve been in.”

“We hoped she would grow out of it,” Aeon confides. Sweetness is carrying her own lead, leaving Aeon free to haul the two bikes. If Aether can pull Aurora, he can carry them bikes without complaining. Out loud, anyway. “But as you can probably see, her sense of self preservation is about as stunted as her height.”

“Boo, cheap shot!” Aurora says, sticking her tongue out at him. Aether chuckles, directing the wagon away from a stone jutting out of the ground.

“Learned that pretty quick after she moved in.” He says. “She sprained her wrist her first day in town at the skatepark.”

“Yeah, she sent me a picture of it.” 

“Not having fun until I draw blood.” Aurora sings, then quietly mutters ouch.

“Hang on, princess.” Aether says with a smile that makes Aeon's heart skip a beat. There's a flash of metal from a silver tooth. God, could he get any hotter? “We’ll getcha taken care of.”

______

Aether's ride isn't what Aeon is expecting. It's a bright red mini-van, handicap accessible that easily takes Aurora in her wagon. Aether fusses over her, making sure she's strapped in as best he can manage, directs Aeon to the passenger seat after loading the bikes in and doesn't even put the key in the ignition until everyone's seatbelt has clicked. Sweetness makes a space for herself under the wagon, thumping her tail when Aurora coos her name.

“Can you believe this guy won the demolition derby at the county fair last year?” Aurora teases from the back as they set off, just a hair over the speed limit.

“That was outside of working hours.” Aether says primly.

“Real mean at bumper cars too.”  Aurora says. “I mean, brutal.”

“I reiterate.” Aether says, clicking his blinker on a full six seconds before he switches lanes. “Outside work hours.”

They don't go to the hospital. Aether makes a face when Aeon questions him and chews his lip before answering.

“It's…” he starts, then sighs.

“I'm not fucking going there.” Aurora interjects. “Not after the horror stories I’ve heard from the others.”

“Horror stories?” Aeon asks. His mind immediately goes to ghosts walking the halls at night, doctors killing people for their organs, corpses rising from the morgue in the basement but the explanation as Aether puts it is rather boring.

“It's a Catholic based hospital.” He says. “Very Catholic.”

“Your suffering is a test from God type of Catholic.” Aurora scoffs. “Sure, the doctors are good but there's crucifixes and crosses everywhere, the nurses are nuns who were too mean for the parochial school and saying you don't want to be prayed over gets you marked as non-compliant in your file.”

“They can't do that.” Aeon says incredulously. 

“Privatized healthcare.” Aether mutters. “Thankfully, there's an anonymous donor who sponsored the opening of a free clinic in town. Not to brag, but we have just as good a team and equipment as the other guys.”

“If you say the hospital’s name you have to spit.” Aurora stage-whispers. 

“Gross.” Aeon replies, fascinated.

“The staff are better looking too.” Aurora says in a normal voice, making goo-goo eyes at the rearview mirror. “Delta still single?”

“And not looking to settle.” Aether says with a smile.

“Neither am I.” Aurora says with an equally crooked grin. Aeon fiddles with the window button and wonders if he’ll ever have a normal day in this new place. The rest of the drive is silent save for the classics station Aether flips on. At one point, they pull up at a four-way stop and get revved at by a motorcyclist who Aeon is pretty sure has the right of way.

“Thanks, Dew.” Aether calls as they drive past the biker. “See you tonight?”

The biker pulls a red and black striped handkerchief from their back pocket and waves, which is enough of an answer to make Aether laugh.

“I love how he just has that ready.” Aurora says. “Also, you should be ashamed of yourself, cruising for booty with an injured lady in your backseat.”

“You're no lady.” Aeon and Aether say at the same time.

“Owe me a coke.” Aeon says quickly and the way Aether chuckles  makes his heart do flippy things. Even if it's offset by Aurora gagging in the background.

_____

Aurora's taken in by the aforementioned Delta, who doesn't react to her flirting save for a crinkling of their eyes behind the mask they wear.

"They have the technology." Aurora calls as she's wheeled through a set of swinging doors. "They can rebuild me!"

"She's something else." Aether says with a shake of his head. "I'm gonna call Sunny and let her know it's taken care of. Then I can get you signed up for a first aid course, if you're willing."

"Absolutely." Aeon says. He doesn't ever want to feel helpless again, doesn't want something worse to happen and not be ready to handle it. Aether slips behind Delta's desk and spends a few minutes typing.

"I can schedule you for a check-up as well, get you in the system. Why don't you take a seat in the waiting room over there? We got new magazines."

"That's really nice of you." Aeon says earnestly. "Thanks."

"My pleasure." Aether says sincerely. "It's what I do." Aeon takes a seat on a comfy pleather chair, Sweetness laying down beside him. He looks over the magazines, spends a few minutes reading an article about exotic trail reviews then gets too fidgety and turns on the television. It opens to a local news station, a pretty, immaculately made up reporter talking about local crime.

"-any information regarding the theft, please reach out to the sheriff or Father Defroque." She's saying. "Back to you, Brad."

"Robbery?" He asks Aether, who shrugs.

"Not like the money was going towards anything important." He says dismissively. "Don't trust the church, kid. Not in this town."

"Never have." Aeon says, gut squirming in suspicion at the way the priest currently being interviewed smiles. Something about him seems...too friendly. Too kind. Artificial. In comparison to Aether, the man is almost slimy. "Never will."

"Atta boy." Aether says and the tone of his voice almost makes Aeon blush.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

it’s so silly Ive thought of Hobie when making a couple decisions before. I’m sitting here getting slowly converted into a punk (fashion and music wise) because of this man too 😭

YES! YES! This is what I MEAN.

I love that Hobie inspires so many people and influences the real world because he is derived from the real name - real movements and a real era!

And like - people don't even KNOWWWW how deep 70's fashion and punk/other countercultures go, especially back in a time where being out about ones views either in public or at home could be dangerous.

I really wanna do a break down of stuff like this cause I love it.

Things like crust pants, which Hobie wears. Which connects to punk ideology of being low-waste and clothing modification in addition to being another place to put patches

The history of Lace Code, and the cousin of lace code - The Queer Hanky Code.

I'd also like to study the history of things like 'battle jackets' and vests. But I know for sure that there is one photo of a black punk artist performing in 1979 that looks really close to Hobie, or at least his style and essence.

I'd love to talk about that one day, since I know NOTHING about the music lol. That's one thing that's beyonnndd me, but I know it's so rich in history and culture its INSANE. Like..the specific clubs in London and New York that were famous for their shows, the way 1979 changed the music scene UGHHHH I wish I could write about everything under the sun

But yeah Hobie is like such a good role model which in insane considering he want to be the opposite. But I love how people could be like 'What do blue laces mean? Oh that? IM ON BOARD AND I LOVE HIM.'

We can all empathize with him, PLUS he gives us ways to express the same anger he faces in the most compassionate punk rock way I LOVE HIM

Take this photo on your journeys

[roachemoji]

Stranger Things Season 4 Thread!!!!!!!! 04 01

theres NO realistic way in hell some kid was chucking that shit every damn day and making it !!!!!!!!! bro would have smacked someone in the fucking FACE by now!!!!!

starting off with a freak ass routine gotcha gotcha gotcha !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

aGAGGLE OF BALD CHILDREN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

its been. 4 minutes and im already so uncomfortable with how they hold the kids hands to lead them around lmao

Brenner cant draw for SHIT girl if that was me id tell him i dont know bc its fucking UGLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YEAH. HES RIGHT.

GOD hes. i hate hate hate hate hate hate his fucking face it makes me so uncomfortable.

GIRL HELLO !!!!!!!!! DAMN LMAO

EXPLODES THEM EXPLODESTHEM EXPLODES THEM !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the TONE shift from the last season is really getting to me girlie like that last one didnt feel REAL and this one feels VERY present. even with the rainbow visuals in the room?

OUGHH GOD HES SO UNCOMFORTABLE.

HIS EXPRESSIONS ARE SO ???? HIS GASP SEEING A DEAD KID??? IDK HOW TO PLACE IT.

damn girlie what did you do !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EL'S !!!! FUCKING AUTISM ACCENT? LOVE HER. LOVE HER.

ARGYLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GODIM SO EXCITED TO MEET HIM !!!!!

I CANT PUT INTO WORDSS HOW MUCH I LOVE THE TONE SHIFT AND THEM BEING OLDER AND EL'S LETTER TO MIKE BEING !!!! SO.

THEYRE ALL SO BIG NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KAREN LOOKS SO CUTE AND TED? KILLS HIM.

SUZZIIEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND DUSTIN <3333333 THEYRE SO CUTE

STEVE AND ROBIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PEOOPLE WHO LIKE BOOBIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK ING STE VE. BI MEN AND THEIR LESBIAN BESTIES ???

MAX IS NOT BEATING THE TRANS MASC ALLEGATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOT NOW NOT EVER NOT IN MY HEART

UCAS LOOK SO FU CKING GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!! HIS HAIIRRRRRR

WHO TH FUCK IS THIS ARCHIE LOOKING WHITE MAN ?????

THEIR PANTS ARE TEAR AWAY ? I GUESS THOSE HAVE A FUCKING USE .... WHEN IT COMES TO SPORTS ? BUT STILL KAJDSHKJHADS IM FU CKING KAJHDKJAHSD. THEY DIDNT DIE SO WE WOULD LOOSE AT BASKETBALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHUT UP

Lucas is making a good ass point butalso im so sorry he doesnt wanna be a loser nerd freak anymore :pensive:

the fu cCKING RUSSIANS LAKJSHDAKSJHDKJ HDAMN GIRLIE HOLY SHIT BE CAREFUL ? EW. EW? WHOSE THE LITTLE WHITE WOMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH ELL BABY YOU GOT THIS. YOU GOT THIS!!!! GO AUTISM GIRLIE!!!!!!!!

IM GONNA KILL. EVERYONE IN THAT ROOM. !! PLEASE LET HER JUST. OUGHHGH GODD. WILL TEARING UP TOO. FUCKING EXPLODE HER!!!!!! EXPLODE THAT FUCKING. BITCH HOLY SHIT ?

WILL IS.

MAX ?? QUEER WHATS WITH THE... GREEN SCRUNCHIE?? THAT THE OTHER GIRLIES HAVE

LUCAS approaching Max who... is the only one who is like ? LOUDLY suffering with shit after watching Billy die and be traumatized vs the core group not NOT being traumatized but handling it VERY DIFFERENTLY ? like they always "bounced back" and Max isn't

o h JESUS WHAT THE FUCK HELLO ?????? bro aksjdhkasjhakhkKJHDFKJSDHFKJH DAMN I WOULD NOT HAVE LEFT THAT BATHROOM HELLO WHAT THE FUCK

Eddie doesnt SOUND like i thought he would ???? AKDHAKDJH i forgot about the hanky code my mans wearing

dustiinnNNSFNKJKSJH DUSTIN. AKJSDH!!!!!! MIKE'S FACE.

Eddie's vibe is. AKHASKDJASHD like my ex boyfriend from highschool

MURRYYYY !!! MISSED HIM. LOVE HIM. RIP ALEXEI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

she has nIPPLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ARGYLE AKSJHDKASJH!!!!!!!!!! MOPEY DICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NANCY LOOKS SO CUTE!!!

ARGYLE CALLING HIM A FUCKING GOOD BOY KJHSDKAHADSKJHADSKJH YELLING

im sorry literally N OON wants to play DnD you just have to find the gay people !!!!!!!!!!!!!! (40 years from now)

Out h ere being Mentally ill in da Woods as you do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

what gay ass drugs are we selling!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh hes DRAMATIC fucking theater kid. that man's NOT STRAIGHT !!!! and also defenitely has ADHD. chewing on his fucking HAIR !!! stimming i see u !!

EL BABY GIRL IM SO SORRY I WAN T TO EXPLODE THE WORLD FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT TO KILL FOR HER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOY SHIT . MAKE THEM PISS THEIR PANTS GIRL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OO OoOOO H BABAKJSHD I FORGOT HER POW ERS ARENT ,,, WO RK ING,,, ABY IM,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, THIS IS FUCKING PAINFUL.

tHE focus not having been on Will the entire time except for a snippet here and there is REALLY NICE ACTUALLY likE!!! IDK BUT IT IS. TTHAT MANS FIGURING OUT HES QUEER TOO

MURRY JADKASLASKLJSADKJ !!!! MY MAN ABSOLUTEL LOSING HIS MIND

sTEVE IM AKSDJHS SORRY GIRLIE LMAOOOOOO fuc kinggGGGG TAMMMYYYYY AKSDJAKDHAKJSDHKAJSHD ROBINNN GIRLIEE IM SO FUCKING SORRRYY. JDKLKJDLKJFDSJLKDF I WA NNA FUCKING.

ERICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BABY GIRL IS BACKKKK YEAHHHH FUCKING LOVE HER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND HER HAIIIRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CANT WAIT FOR HER TO DESTROY EDDIE

DESTROY HIM DESTROY HIM DESTROY HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the fucking mountain dew cansssss his DM set up is so good

I JUST LOVE HOW DND IS USED AS FORESHADOWING BABEY !!!

Dusstin and Erica working together like THIS IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UGH. love u lady applejack <33333

FUCKING GET IT ERICA!!!! LUCAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASSSEEEEEEEEE

YYYEAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i thOUGHT he was tlking to like a lizard and not a guitar AKSJD

IS Chrissy just experiencing like a psychotic break ?? delusions??? I cant tell if its like. ACTUALLY happening to her or something to do with the UD ? Dissociative seizures????? DISSOCIATIVE SEIZURES AND THE UD ?????

FEEL LIKE ALL THE SPIDER VISUALS AND SHIT ARE IMPORTANT AND I JUST DONT KNOW HOW YET !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH IS THIS VECNA ? SIR !! YOURE. WET :/

BRO HELLO WHAT

KING WHAT DOES THAT M EAN

ASDASKJHD KASHDKASJH SORRY TO EDDIE WHO THOUGH YEAHHH A FRIEND :3c

GIRL WAHT THE FUCK EXORCIST SHIT HOLY HSHKJASJK LSHAJKHAD HE RE YEB ALLS!!!!!!!!! BROOOO AKSJDHKASHDKASHD

yeah so season 3 was. liike. different and now ? we're back at it!!!! we're back at it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALSRRIGH alright

ending with a half song again no lyrics inchresting

[damnslippyplanet]

Slippy Watches: Only Friends, Episode 1

Okay SO. A friend is feeling poorly and not able to fully do subtitles right now, and I was like, I am not local to you, I cannot bring you casseroles and pet your hair, but I can and will write you a recap of Only Friends Episode 1, because sometimes that’s friendship.  SO.  Only Friends!  I love mess.  Here we go. It's been years since I did a Slippy Watches, so let's see how this goes.

Most of our key players as outlined by a voiceover in the beginning assigning them each roles at a drunk night out are:

Mew, the designated table-holder who keeps other people from taking over the table while his friends are all off dancing and hooking up. ��

Cheum, The Girl, also the designated dancer who just wants to get ONE more dance in before they call it a night.  Cheum needs more backstory.  Let’s hope she’s queer.  Girlfriend rights for Cheum!

Sand, the singer/guitarist for the bar band.  Sand is played by First and so I love him with all my heart and nothing he does could ever be a crime.

Ray, who I don’t think we actually learn until later is called that but I don’t care, who is The Drunkard in our montage.  Because he is played by Khaotung he is unfairly beautiful even with his head in a toilet.  It’s rude.

Top, because sometimes Thai BL just shrugs and gives people the names they deserve, who we don’t learn much about at this point except that he’s a hot guy who knows his way around a cheesy-smooth pickup line

Boston, The Hunter, who is at the time of our story cuddled up in a narrow hallway trying to talk his way into a threesome.

Yo, the owner of the YOLO bar where these folks apparently spend much of their time.  Yo wants everyone to have fun, get drunk, and get laid.  We love Yo, i think.

In a tidy little montage of Mew attempting to haul his assorted drunk and horny friends out of the bar we learn several things:

They are at a singles(-ish) event where various wristband colors indicate what you’re looking for and who can try to hit on you, long live hanky code in spirit if not practice

Ray is a pretty but also fighty drunk, Sand is trying to do his damn job and would just like to take a piss in peace and is not above threatening to pee on Sand’s head if he won’t get it out of the damn way, and Mew is fairly well-practiced at dragging Ray out of stupid drunk-fights he’s picked.  I assume by the time I have posted this for you, friend, there will be at least five piss-kink fics on AO3 about Sand/Ray.  Long live fandom. <3 <3 <3

Mew does not know what to do with a cute boy he has accidentally stumbled into, but Top knows exactly what to do with him so that’s fine, except for how Ray is giving Mew the disgruntled-crush eyes of I Can’t Believe You’re Letting This Guy Flirt With You Right In Front Of My Drunk Salad.  Ray drags Mew away.  Again: I love mess.

Boston would absolutely have talked himself into that threesome if Cheum hadn’t come to drag him away, RIP, Boston’s dick.  Also his phone, which gets its screen cracked when Cheum causes him to drop it.

*******

And then we are at school, where apparently Cheum, Boston, Ray, and Mew are all in business class and doing some sort of final graduation project involving creating a business plan for a hostel.  Ray’s rich dad has just sort of given them a spare house he has lying around to use for their project, which seems exceedingly normal.

Their teacher: “This is awfully ambitious given that you are four messy queer college students and also Ray might literally be asleep on his feet right now, are you sure you don’t want to rethink this?  You could literally just write me the expected report about an imaginary business plan, you don’t have to *actually start and run a hostel*.”

Students: “Nah, it will be fine, what could go wrong?”

Me, who has seen narrative foreshadowing before: *cackles*

If they’re gonna build an actual business, though, they need a designer to help them renovate their free building.  Luckily, Boston knows a guy.  Stick a pin in that, it will be relevant.

*******

But first: Boston needs to get his phone fixed.  So he slides into a phone repair place being staffed by Mark Pakin. I know his name is Nick but he’s just Mark Pakin in my heart.  There’s a bunch of flirting about who’s the nong-est of the two of them, and how oh no, Mark Pakin can’t fix the phone right on the spot, so Boston’s gonna have to leave it and come back to make fuck-eyes at Mark Pakin another day.

It’s important to know that Mark Pakin’s shirt says SVSS on the collar, and I’m sure that’s a designer, but if I want to believe that Mark Pakin is a Bingqiu shipper, you can’t stop me.  

*******

So now we are back at the bar for trivia night and I have some real questions about the nature of the trivia, like, is “what was the first hotel in Thailand” a normal thing to know?  IDK, maybe.  The important things to note here are that Mew isn’t drinking so Ray cheerfully drinks all the shots Mew wins for getting questions right, which will no doubt end well.  And that Top shows up like a heat-seeking missile to see if his pickup line impressed Mew the other day, answers the hotel trivia question, and slides on into the booth to help them rock trivia night.  Ray: Not happy.  Still drinking. 

HEY GUESS WHAT, Top is the designer Boston knows who can help them all with their unnecessarily complicated hostel project.  Love that for Top, Mew, and me.  I’m not sure if it’s an academic integrity issue but that seems like too complicated a question for bar trivia night.

Ray does not love it. Ray gets pissy and Mew tries to cut him off and get him a ride home, but Ray fucks off crankily.  I think all his friends lose a point here for letting him leave that drunk, but maybe they think he’s just going to stick his head in the toilet again and will be back. Unclear.

Meanwhile, Top and Boston head over to the bar for a little confab about whether Top should try to fuck Mew, while Cheum and Mew stay at the table for a parallel confab about whether Mew should try to fuck Top.  The answer is yes, everyone should try to fuck everyone.  Boston isn’t so sure the fucking thing is going to work out - he’s pretty sure Mew would like to go home early, drink milk, read a book, and put on some easy listening music.  Which sounds like a banger of an evening to me, and also to Top, who is bored of easy bar hook-ups and thinks it might actually be fun to fuck to easy listening for a change.  He could learn to like milk!  But Boston is being weird about this, for reasons we will find out later.  I love mess.

*******

So while Top goes off to see if Mew wants to re-enact the “Johnny teaches Baby to dance sexy after she carries a watermelon” scene on the dance floor, Boston stands around waving an I Am Down To Fuck A Rando sign.  (Figuratively.  Sort of.)  With his sign he catches my boy Drake Laedeke, who I don’t think even gets a name here, he just showed up for a cameo as One Night Stand Guy who sidles up to Boston wearing the worst shirt in the world and still manages to pick him up.  Hi, Drake!  

Meanwhile: Sand is out in the parking lot in a great leather jacket, getting ready to take off on his motorcycle, but whoops, he has parked next to Ray’s fancy car, which currently has Ray sort of half in it.  Ray has managed to get himself even more trashed and *absolutely* should not drive anywhere.  And he has also managed to run down his phone battery, so Sand’s disgruntled attempts to get the drunk dipshit to call his friends for help don’t go well either.

Ray: I mean, YOU could drive me home, hot bar singer guy

Sand:  Or you could take a nap in your back seat and drive home later, worst person in the world who I am definitely not going to end up in love with during the course of this show

Ray: OR I could pout at you until you drive me home, also I am going to give you my street name but not my house number before I pass out, this will in no way be a problem.

Sand: *folds like a cheap card table, hauls Ray to the passenger seat and buckles him in because Thai BL never met a seat buckle it couldn’t eroticize, grumbles about how much he’s going to charge Ray for being his personal taxi service, and drives away in his car, leaving his poor motorcycle behind.  

*******

Oh my god, that was all the FIRST SEGMENT.  On the plus side the remaining three combined are the length of this one, so we’re halfway through.  No one has actually fucked yet!  We’re gonna make up for it, though, hang in there.

*******

Now we are in Mew’s apartment, which Top has talked his way into with a line about needing a glass of water for a headache.  They manage two minutes of bland chitchat about the decor and the water before Top is like, okay, I recognize that you’re the virgin cinnamon roll but just to check in, you DO realize the water thing was a line, right? Also can I take your glasses off?

Mew does realize it was a line and he is down for some making out which turns into some “stripping down to our boxers in the kitchen, clambering onto the countertop together, and letting Top grope him and lick his chest extensively.”  Good for them.  Good for them! 

But I do not think Mew’s first penetrative sexual experience should happen on his countertop, and fortunately for me he agrees, calling a halt to the proceedings and offering Top some ice cream instead because he doesn't actually feel like he knows the guy well enough yet to fuck him.  But he’s very pink and fetching without his glasses as he makes the ice cream offer. 

I have decided to accept Mew into my heart and I would have had to yell at Top if he decided to be a jerk about it, but fortunately Top is kind of into the novelty of someone who actually wants to get to know him before jumping straight to the kitchen hookup.  So this honestly goes much better than it could have, good for both of them for navigating an awkward moment gracefully.

*******

AND NOW, everyone spirals out into the inevitable outcomes of their evenings:

Sand has given up on finding Ray’s house and taken him back to Sand’s, where Ray promptly resumes sticking his head down a toilet and puking.  I hate puke scenes so I’m forwarding here but it’s important to know that Sand does pat Ray’s back while he empties his entire soul out through his mouth.  And then they collapse onto the floor together and Ray puts his head on Sand’s shoulder and Sand stares off into space for a while like, this is my life, these are my choices, why is the most beautiful awful man in the world in my bathroom right now.

Boston and Drake are back at Drake’s, where they strip out of their terrible shirts, vault into bed, and Boston proceeds to fold Drake in half and rail the lights out of him.  Bless.  Thank you for your service, Drake.

This is hilariously intercut with Mark Pakin, who has taken Boston’s phone home with him so that he can jerk off to Boston’s saucy selfies.  Aw, buddy.  I mean, don’t do that, but also the montage is funny enough that I’m going to overlook all of my opinions about why you should clear anything sensitive off your phone BEFORE leaving it with the phone store rando

Mew and Top have put their shirts back on but not their pants, and are handfeeding each other ice cream in the kitchen while Mew explains very reasonably that he knows himself well and knows that if he has sex with Top he’s gonna get obsessed with him.  Study his instagram, listen to sad music and wallow if they can’t be boyfriends, etc.  And that seems like no fun, so isn’t it better to just eat ice cream?  Top is incredibly charmed. *I* am incredibly charmed.  They agree to have a sleepover and just cuddle, and proceed to do just that.  

*********

Ray wakes up the next day hungover on Sand’s couch.  He has somehow ended up in a shirt reading POOR BOY in huge letters and I am, once again, cackling.  Thai BL shirts are my favorite thing.  How pissy was Sand when he picked that out.  How much did he have to bully Ray into wearing it. Someone write me the missing scene immediately.

So Ray spends a few minutes taking stock of his surroundings in a way that strongly suggests that “waking up blacked out in an unfamiliar place and doing a quick scan of where his stuff is and whether he’s in any danger is not an unfamiliar experience for him” and, oh. Oof.

Sand wanders out into the living area still pulling his shirt on, and Ray starts to get his bearings and to slip into more jokey “oh, it’s YOU.  YOU didn’t have to get me drunk if you wanted to fuck me, ha ha ha, so, uh, DID we fuck, and was it, uh, consensual, or did you like roofie me?” mode.  Awkward. Very awkward.  And Sand isn’t finding the joke funny, so Ray shifts gears into “Where the hell is my stuff anyway, did you rob me?” mode.

It all ends badly with Ray shoved out the door with his stuff in his arms.  Which, fine, but he’s gonna have to return the Poor Boy shirt eventually.  Anyway we all know I love an enemies-to-lovers arc so please keep sniping at each other for another episode or two, boys.

*******

Meanwhile, Mew and Top have just…deciding to keep having a cute date on into the next day, I guess?  They’ve gone to the bookstore, where Mew is explaining how much better it is to read about love than to be IN love with all the mess that entails.  Top is like, counterpoint, books are great but there are some things books can’t give you, like emotional intimacy and also blowjobs.  Point to Top, there.

But he doesn’t get to press his point because that’s when Ray calls from his car (still wearing the Poor Boy shirt) to complain about his bad night.  And then Ray gets pissy when he finds out Mew is STILL with Top the next DAY, and hangs up, and then his seat belt gets stuck.  Because you can’t eroticize a seatbelt by yourself.  Poor Ray, everything is the worst.

*******

Boston goes back to get his phone from Mark Pakin, who apparently did fix it at some point in between jerking off to it.   Mark has also a) given Boston the People I’m Horny About discount, and b) left his own saucy pictures on Boston’s phone.  Again: the infosec is terrible, but I love the moxie.

Boston: WHOOPS my phone somehow broke again right now while I was looking at this hot picture of you, I need you to fix it immediately.

Mark: Store’s closed for business right now, i gotta go bang Boston behind the display of screen protectors.  I will turn off the lights but I will NOT lock the door.  

And then they jerk each other off about it.  Sorry, pal, I really wanted to make some kind of phone sex pun here but I just can’t think of one tonight.

*******

And now: a school project montage.  Top has come to class to bring Mew notebooks for some reason?  He’s a fully grown adult who is not in school with them, correct?  Let’s not think about it too hard.  Maybe they brought him for show and tell.  Anyway, a week passes in montage while they work on redecorating Ray’s dad’s building into a hostel.  Both Ray and Boston are really annoyed about all the MewTop flirting going on.  

Do we think Ray and Boston are going to have a little proxy-fuck about it at some point?  I think that would be nice because, again, I love mess.

And then the week is over and it’s time to go to the bar again, where Cheum is heartily on Team MewTop and thinks they should fuck before covid or radioactive cesium kills everyone.  Oddly nihilistic, Cheum, but you’re not wrong.  Ray thinks maybe Top’s a secret asshole.  Mew is like, hey, I’m a grownup, I haven’t slept with him yet but I might if I feel right about it, and I can make my own decisions, everyone please care less about my dick.

Honestly, Mew is way too well adjusted and sensible for this friend group.  Is he going to melt down spectacularly at some point?

*******

In a scene that is a gift for me personally, Ray goes outside to find Sand apologizes for accusing him of being a thief and possibly maybe just a little bit rapey, thanks him for saving his life, and bums a light for a cigarette off him while standing around in just the *most* submissive and breedable posture about it?

Sorry, youths who were young enough to have missed the years when smoking was sexy, but *I* still remember the intense frisson of having your cigarette lit for you, and so for me personally this is actually the sexiest thing that happens in this episode.  I feel like I need a cigarette about it but I do not smoke anymore so I’m just gonna gnaw on my fist for a while. Fuck.  It’s so good.  I’m going to make this scene my entire personality now, sorry.

*******

Apparently the show is still happening even though all I care about now is Ray and Sand, so:

Boston and Top head off to the bathroom to piss in adjoining urinals while Boston eyes Top’s dick intensely and is like, man, are you SURE you actually want to bother with Mew?  I’m RIGHT here and super willing to fuck again - which is how we learn they’ve fucked in the past - and I’m a much surer thing.

But Top wants to *date* Mew, which is the most horrifying thing he could have said to Boston.  Apparently they’ve talked about this before and Top has a “one and done” rule for Boston, which Boston is not pleased about. Boston, buddy, the dick cannot have been so good that you need to do this somewhat embarrassing level of throwing yourself at the guy at the urinals.  

Anyway the gist is: Boston’s kinda trying to undermine the MewTop thing, but Top has decided he wants to be Mew’s boyfriend.

So just to hammer the point home, Top immediately goes out to the bar stage and takes over the microphone from Sand and makes a big public thing out of asking Mew to go steady.  AUGH, public relationship announcements are my kryptonite, I hate them, make it go AWAY.

But Mew’s into it, and Yo is delighted with the drama in her bar, and Cheum is living her MewTop shipper dreams, and Ray and Boston are making sour faces, and Sand just wants his microphone back.

Somewhere, Mark Pakin is presumably jerking it about whatever he unethically downloaded off Boston’s phone.  I hope he gets to meet the rest of the gang at some point.

[bazpitchs-violin]

my headcanons for todd as a speech kid because i have literally been unable to think about anything else since it first popped into my mind:

todd would be an info kid. he just would, i don't make the fucking rules

todd's first info is about the hanky code, and even though he manages to present it without being too explicit about what the code means, he blushes the entire time he's performing

neil definitely helped him make his va's

i also think that after his first season in it he would move into oratory, because todd has opinions, and strong ones, he's just always been scared to talk about it

and i think there's something about the environment of speech that clicks to him. you're not fighting for attention you're just up there, telling your stories. and i think part of that really resonates with him

i do in fact think his oratory is either about gifted kid burnout or about how sometimes expectations from parents can bridge over into emotional abuse

i also think he has a poetry program, and i think there are at least two walt whitman poems but i also think he loves performing andrea gibson

he does di one year and absolutely hates it because the rooms are always so sad and its a mental weight on him

however, he gets into hi and goes fucking mental

he would love hi

he commits to his bits so well and his pops are so clean and he's just fucking funny

he definitely does history based hi's though thats his brand

and i think he has a poi

and i think his poi is about being quietly gay

because on the speech circuit there is plenty of gay/queer material being presented

but for the most part its all the same type of gay/queer

and todd doesn't feel represented by it

so he does a poi about how it feels to not fit in either

but to know he's one and not the other

and frankly i do think he uses cuttings from boyfriend material

but i also think he uses a lot of fun artsy metaphorical things

and also i think he wins

because he's good at it

and i think that neil is a cute supportive speech boyfriend

and i think that neil tries to watch todd perform whenever he can

and i think the first time neil sees todd actually compete he gets the same look on his face as he did in the sweaty toothed madman scene

because todd has finally figured out how to talk and make people listen to him, and his voice is fucking fantastic

and neil is so fucking proud

[rybonucleic-ket]

queer coded eddie munson (analysis)

tired of people getting upset when people say Eddie's gay, so here's a shitty analysis of the queer coding of Eddie Munson.

okay, first off, hanky code. hanky code is still a thing today, but it was much more common through the 70s and 80s. essentially, hanky code is flagging used within the queer community as an indicator of sexual interest, kinks, and the like through colors of handkerchiefs and which of your pockets you wear them in. throughout season 4, Eddie wears a black hanky in his back left pocket, which would indicate a dominant role in S&M. people are pretty quick to brush this off, but he consistently wears the same color in the same pocket, so I'm inclined to see that as more than a coincidence. if it was, in fact, hanky code, it would mean Eddie's queer and a freak of different sorts. take that as you will.

Eddie and nonconformity. I mean, obviously the whole metal scene is pretty nonconformist, but Eddie has a band of metalheads, and nobody is as passionate about going against the norm as he is. Eddie's also bullied and harassed more than anyone else in his group of 'freaks'; the most alienated of the weirdos. if this sounds familiar, it definitely should, as it's the same thing that happened to Will, a canonically gay character. it's unfortunately common treatment of queer people, and I know both Eddie and Will's experience in the series resonated with a lot of queer people. while both Eddie and Will had friends who were also socially outcast, they became the easiest targets because they were so clearly different. Will shrinks into himself in response to the harassment, but Eddie embraces it like no other. "it's forced conformity. that's what's kiLLING THE KIDS! that's the real monster." he's talking about the satanic panic of the eighties, and while he was in a group of dnd nerd metalheads, he was demonized with satanic panic theories far more than anyone else. which, presumably, means there's another factor, very likely Eddie being gay.

Eddie, nonconformity, and Wayne. you could say this is just a headcanon but it's a little psychoanalytic thing so I put here. basically, the reason Eddie responded to alienation the way he did rather than the way Will did was probably from explicit acceptance. this is not Joyce slander, I would never. the Byers didn't really talk about Will being gay (until the Byers brothers heart to heart in Surfer Boy), and Will is still scared of rejection (he literally tells Mike he is). with the way Eddie talks about the messy family we know next to nothing about, and the fact that Eddie lives with Wayne, I don't think it's a jump to say that Eddie's parents were homophobic, leading Wayne to take him in. (I like to think of Wayne as an elder gay but that doesn't have a psychoanalytic basis) with the way Wayne talks about Eddie, it's clear he's aware of Eddie's rejection, upset by it, and supportive of Eddie. I'd say it's not implausible that Eddie got the explicit acceptance that Will didn't, making him more disdainful of conformity in all its toxic glory.

Eddie and Steve. I'm not going to make this a 'steddie is canon' post, I'm mentioning purely canonical events and their implications to Eddie being queer. there are, unfortunately, no canonically beyond platonic scenes, but the way that Eddie talks to Steve is pretty fruity when put in context. the eighties were not like today. straight guy friends flirting (jokingly) was not a thing that happened. [fig. a: Jason's response to Erica snarking about him and Lucas.] you couldn't platonically flirt with guy friends; that was pretty strictly interpreted as gay. Eddie gets up in Steve's face to smirk at him, and 'don'tcha, big boy?' was like, undeniably flirtatious. Steddie aside, regardless of who he flirted with, straight guys in the eighties didn't flirt with guys.

I dunno, man, pretty gay.

[griefabyss69]

Grief's Collab & Continuations Post

Hello, this is an on-going list of things I've either collaborated with someone on or wrote something inspired by someone else!

Titles are tumblr links and AO3 links are beside them.

COLLABS

» baby it's cold outside (but it's real warm in your mouth) - 9K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: Recreational Drug Use, Drinking, Mid Dub-Con Tags: Hook-Up, Locked In, Snowball Fight, Making Out, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Breathplay, Sub Eddie MunsonDom Steve Harrington, Sub Eddie Week 2024 (Stranger Things), Enemies to Lovers, enemies to lovers but in the way your cat thinks he's enemies with your friendly golden retriever

[ Collab with Wynnyfryd! ]

He can picture the obituary now: Local loser asphyxiates while trying to scuba dive between beloved swim team captain’s hairy thighs. He leaves behind three ounces of weed, two thrifted amps, and one sick-ass guitar. He died doing what he loved. Excerpt:

“Did you get a hold of anybody?” Steve asks as he jogs back down the stairs, and Eddie jumps a foot in the air, lets out a super dignified screech-yelp, and curses, “Christ!”

“Have mercy.” Steve smirks. “Sorry. Here.”

He hands him a pile of folded clothes, a green Hawkins High hoodie and a pair of soft gray sweats. There’s an undershirt and white tube socks and boxer briefs sandwiched between, and just—Eddie’s gonna just go out and quietly walk into a snowdrift. It’s gotta be better than thinking about wearing Steve Harrington’s borrowed underpants.

“Not really my style.” Eddie tries to shove the clothes back at Steve.

“You think I care?” Steve rolls his eyes, pushing back at him with all that swim captain strength and bitching about how ‘you’re not dying of hypothermia on my watch, capiche?’ and there’s really no arguing with that, is there?

Eddie kicks the powder room door shut behind him just to be difficult. Hopes it annoys Steve enough to make it worth the way the echoing slam makes him cringe.

He sets the clothes on the counter, wrestling to trap some feeling that’s trying to claw its way out of his throat, some low-grade-fever dread that blends right in with the Harrington decor. Caged bird, beige prison. This must be one of ten bathrooms in this place. He'd probably have to unscrew one of the light fixtures to find even a speck of dirt.

CONTINUATIONS

» Offer Your Light - 4.6K - [ AO3 ] - Rated: E - CW: Public sex Tags: Getting Together, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Jock Straps, Nipple Piercings, Kilts, Music Festival, Falling In Love

[ A continuation of fiordicielo's series a metalhead and a pink boy! ]

Steve and Eddie meet again… and find their way back under the stage to have more fun together! Will Eddie's kilt survive?

Excerpt:

Eddie hadn't thought that it would work, that when Chrissy yelled for the crowd to simply pick Steve up and deliver him right to his feet that it would actually happen.

He's still reeling, his brain chugging like the deep, wailing riff of his guitar when they're playing something slow and brutal. Life is the controlled sprint of Gareth's drumsticks and Eddie's mind might as well be the screeching feedback from when he gets too close to the amps.

» Ready To Go - 3K - [ AO3 ] - Rated: E - CW: None Tags: Getting Together, Kink Discovery, Mild S&M, hanky code, Nipple Clamps, Anal Sex, Light Bondage, Rope Bondage, pain play, safe sex

[ A continuation of fiordicielo's series But what does it mean? ]

Eddie sees his bandanna in Steve's right pocket and it kicks off the first time they explore what Steve's been curious about. Excerpt:

Steve's clearly pleased. His gaze soothes over Eddie's nerves even as he blatantly checks him out.

"Yeah, you wanna help me figure out what I'm into?" He asks, all soft confidence, sitting next to him again so he can lean in close. "Besides you, I mean. I'm super into you."

Eddie wonders what lucky fucking universe he woke up in this morning, but even if it means another Eddie misses out, he'll fucking take it.

» Deliverance - 7.5K - [ AO3 ] - Rated: E - CW: None Tags: Friends to Lovers, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Crushes, Relationship Advice, Getting Together, Virginity is a social construct and is what you make of it - so slight virginity kink

[ This is a continuation of andwhatyousaid's fic Missing Scene! ]

Eddie still owes Steve for the terrible advice he gave him, but even though he's had a long time to figure out how to make it up to him, he's mostly just got half baked fantasies and pocket lint to offer up.

Luckily, he has something that Steve wants.

Excerpt:

"Yes, well. This is my first time," he says, sorting through the Munson collection of seven whole VHS tapes. There's a crack and a hiss from Steve opening a beer, and a noisy sip. "I was a virgin, I'm not as used to it as you are."

Steve chokes on his drink and Eddie feels vindicated, like he's still got it; a weaponized sense of humor.

Before, he'd never expected that Steve would be someone who could keep up with him, their friendly verbal sparring matches leaving Eddie a little breathless sometimes, like they've been running. It's been very fun, has taught him away from the low hanging fruit of Steve mixing up his words and the effort he puts into his hair.

"You're right," Steve says, his beautiful smile a flash of white in the dim evening light. "My first time didn't involve getting eaten half to death either, you really dove headfirst into that."

Eddie shrugs at him all what can you do?, as if he was actually some kind of stoic, rugged hero, and sits down next to him.

[ardentwench]

@writer-in-theory

Yes! This is everything I was imagining.

The way Steve was an ass and superficial in high school and used slurs was his way of rebelling against his parents progressive views in a typical teenage way since he was trying to fit in with the kids of Hawkins who came from more conservative families who his parents didn’t approve of.

He never had to stress about parties because his parents trusted him to be responsible enough to social network for himself and not to get the cops called or let people be hurt and keep the house cleaned. They were only concerned if something went bad, and sometimes Steve wished they’d care more, be more involved but he knows they love him, even if they weren’t very involved parental figures.

And Omg! the rumors of Steve’s mom traveling with his dad to keep him from affairs actually comes from them being swingers. It’s not something they try to hide, more like an open secret. They try to relate with Steve and Eddie by trying to bring up their own experiences. Including things Steve Does Not Ever want to think about so “please with all respect stop talking mom” (Robin thinks Mrs Harrington is HOT and actively encourages her to ramble on no matter how much it ends up with Steve feeling mortified. Steve wishes he never agreed to let her meet them after she’d heard from Eddie how Meeting The Parents had gone)

And oh gosh the hanky code! Not sure which is funnier that they know and are cringingly vocal that they know or that they assume that Eddie is flagging but he’s just from small town conservative Hawkins and has no idea what they’re on about.

Like they come back from a trip all excited because they learned what flagging was and remembered Eddie wearing his and in which pocket and what that color means and are super proud of themselves for being in the know. Maybe even try buying Steve one or two they think he might be interested in wearing himself (do they guess horribly wrong or embarrassingly correct?) They try giving unsolicited advice and safe sex tips with way too many personal anecdotes, even bringing bdsm up with them casually in conversation at a family gathering like its not something that should be kept private,

“but he’s flagging honey, that’s not very discreet”

“the whole purpose is to be discreet and not announce it out loud to just anyone!”

“Well everyone here accepts you-”

“not the point!”

And if they assume it’s flagging but are wrong it’d be like “we’ve connected the two dots, Steve!”

“You didn’t connect shit”

“We’ve connected them”

Now that they see him as an adult with his own life they feel like they can build a stronger relationship by treating him like an equal but it just comes across super awkward. They try to infer things about their sons relationship, one of which is thinking that because Eddie is flagging it means they’re interested in not living monogamously-something his parents have experience on how to successfully manage (steve very much is not interested, he’s an only child who doesn’t like to share, a hopeless romantic looking for The One, and still resents his often absent parents just enough he doesn’t want to live like them at all. It ends up making Steve insecure because he’s afraid maybe they’re right and that’s what Eddie wants. (It’s not)

Either way Steve asks Eddie to stop wearing it. If not to shut his parents up, but to make sure no one else accidentally feels invited to make a move on his boyfriend. Eddie finds other uses than pocket decoration for his black hankie. (Mouth gag?)

The extended Harringtons could be a sort of eclectic group, where Steve is the baby of the group, of the cousins, he’s never felt that close to them. I love him having an Uncle that loves metal and has possible connections for Eddie. But maybe it takes a bit for him to get along with Eddie at first because there’s some level of contention over certain controversial band opinions or whatever. But Eddie would shred his guitar and totally win Uncle Harrington over. I think the bulk of them would still live boring careers, family business style full of nepotism but their personalities are… big, and unique. I’m sure there could be lots of potential for fun aloof characters.

Listen assuming Steve's parents don't suck, I imagine the Harringtons are the type to have big family reunions. I'm talking all the grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins all meeting up for parties and major holidays.

And Eddie? He's used to it just being him and Wayne. So imagine his surprise when Steve invites him over for his family's Fourth of July party and he's expecting like...Steve and his parents. Instead, it's a party of no lie 30 people, all of whom are dying to meet Steve's boyfriend (because anyone who had anything bad to say were promptly uninvited by Mrs. Harrington).

Eddie suddenly gets to experience having dinner at the "kids table" that's really just the collection of cousins in their teens and twenties, and being passed around all of the older aunts and grandmas. He's asked questions about his future by all the men and turns out Steve even has an uncle in the rock scene which is...sick as hell?

By the end of the night, Eddie is completely exhausted and he tells Steve they're doing at least half of the holidays with Wayne because he needs that comfort and familiarity but...it was nice, experiencing what it was like to have such a big family too.