#just-a-nerdy-queer-girl

[moonmoonthecrabking]

grace chasity reads both testaments

[vulpinesaint]

absolutely unreasonable over this coworker that i rlly like rn. thank god i don't like men or i would have fucking Lost it by now! as it is i don't even know what has me so dkfjghsdf about him i'm just sitting there with my head in my hands going "he's so normal about trans people..."

[myatlantispoets]

So much bi panic in the air today

[gothsnickers]

Where you at babygirl 😔💔

i really do believe my freak wife soulmate is on tumblr

[spywitch]

I seriously need to reevaulate my self worth and problems with men LOL bc like when I attempt dating I mainly look at men and have incredibly low standards bc its just Easier and ig what I think I deserve but when like my girl friends date men I get like. Incredibly worried, distrustful and uncomfortable on their behalf. Mostly based soley on the fact that they are men. Or on the smallest red flags. And im like no actually I dont reaaaally want to meet ur libertarian bf straight men scare the fuck out of me and I dont want u bringing ur men uve dated for 3 months into our house thanks

[eds6ngel]

NERDY GIRL (book lover, does well in school, loves to study) DATING EDDIE MUNSON. BOTH LOSING THEIR VIRGINITIES TO EACH OTHER. THANKS, BETH, ILY :33

not so shy now, are we?

eddie munson x afab!fem!reader.

summary: after borrowing a copy of 'jaws' from hawkins library, you are shocked to find the explicit material written across the pages. however, your body reacts in a different way than you intended, which doesn't go unnoticed by eddie...

warnings: HEAVY SMUT!! fem!reader. afab!reader. queer!reader. switch!eddie & switch!reader (they are both dom and sub at different times.) unprotected p in v (r is on birth control.) fingering. A LOT OF DIRTY TALK. mentions of dildos, straps & silicone bodies. mentions of porn. pet names (sweetheart, my love, honey, baby.) swearing. established relationship. one mention of religion/god. some fluff & comfort at the end [2.9k].

a/n: thank you for requesting, my love! i kind of went off on this (i was feeling kinky today :')) so i hope you don't mind that!! we stan kinky virgins in this house and they deserve some love. so, low and behold, kinky eddie and reader ♡

You and Eddie were sat top-to-tail on his bed, lying beside each other as you read away.

Your knees were tucked up to your chest, your borrowed copy of Jaws from Hawkins Library laying in your lap.

Eddie, on the other hand, was sprawled out like a cat, his copy of Fellowship of the Ring held high above his head, the boy squinting to read the words.

You had urged him to get his eyes tested, even offered to pay for the appointment due to the Munson’s financial insecurity, but he wholeheartedly refused, claiming it would “ruin his look.”

You tried your best to convince him it would just make him look sexier, but he brushed you off with a “Thanks, sweetheart” and carried on with his far-sightedness.

You had seen Jaws when it had first come out in theatres over ten years ago, your seven-year-old mind blown away by its visuals and story.

So, when you picked up the book, you expected the story to be pretty much the same, more focused on the descriptive writing than any major plot differences.

But, as you came to a certain scene, your mind started to race.

“Hooper's teeth were clenched, and he ground them the way people do during sleep. From his voice there came a gurgling whine, whose tone rose higher and higher with each frenzied thrust.”

You and Eddie hadn’t gone any further than humping. It never ended in anything, just something to satisfy yourselves whilst you made out.

You quickly looked over at your boyfriend, his attention deeply focused in on his favourite book.

Raising the book from your lap, you hid your face behind it, softly biting your lip as your eyes scanned the following two sentences.

“Even after his obvious, violent climax, Hooper's countenance had not changed. His teeth were still clenched, his eyes still fixed on the wall, and he continued to pump madly.”

However, despite your best efforts to cover your face, Eddie had already felt the bedsheet moving against his legs. Looking away from his own novel, he takes note of the way your thighs squeezed together, the content of the pages in your respective hand obviously causing a stir in a certain region of your body.

A sudden smirk appears on his face as he thinks of an idea, beginning with a simple gesture to capture your attention. He takes his sock-covered foot and rubs it against your bare one.

The feeling of the fabric against your skin makes you jolt, almost snapping the book shut as you peer over the top of it to see your boyfriend’s face.

“How’s the book, sweetheart?”

You gulped, forcing a smile on your face and nodding furiously as you replied, “Yeah! Yeah… Um, really good! It’s, um… really good, yeah…”

You notice the way he folds the corner of his page, placing the book on his nightstand and crawling up the bed to sit beside you. Out of instinct, you hold the book close to your chest, your mind unable to close it fully due to the urge to continue reading the steamy scene.

He lets out an exaggerated yawn and casually drapes his arm behind your back. “I’m bored of my own book. Read some of yours to me. I’m interested.”

Bored of Fellowship? That couldn’t be right. He was up to something here.

“Um… I’d rather not!” you squeak out, trying to conceal the dirty words on the page in front of you, “I just… don’t feel like reading aloud today.”

He nods understandably, however, that same glint remained lurking in his orbs. “I understand, baby.”

However, so distracted by the beauty of your man, he delicately removes the book from your hands. The action was so incredibly light, Eddie placing it in his right hand whilst his left rested on top of your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Okay, let’s see here… What beautiful words grace this adaptation of a truly wonderful film?”

You throat closes up as you are reminded of what you just read a mere few minutes ago. It was currently summer in Indiana, so the freeness of your skirt allowed you to feel how wet you already were beneath your panties.

“Hooper's teeth were clenched, and he ground them the way people do during sleep. From his voice there came a gurgling whine, whose tone rose higher and higher with each frenzied thrust,” Eddie spoke, his tone becoming deeper and more sultry, his hand slowly travelling up your inner thigh.

The words sounded sexy enough coming from your own inner voice, but with Eddie’s? You didn’t know how long you were able to contain yourself.

“Even after his obvious, violent climax, Hooper's countenance had not changed. His teeth were still clenched, his eyes still fixed on the wall, and he continued to pump madly,” he continued, his hand now reaching over your panties, feeling the wetness leaking through.

He chuckles seductively, “Didn’t know Jaws was this explicit sweetheart, but it seems like you were enjoying it regardless.”

God, for a virgin, he already knew how to push your buttons, somehow finding your clit through the fabric and rubbing delicate circles around it.

“Eddie… please,” you whine out, mouth slightly parted as you look at him with pleading eyes. He switches hands, placing the book upside down beside his own and using his right to continue focusing on your bud.

He cups your cheek with his left hand, turning you on your side as he kisses you softly, gentle moans releasing from your lips as he ever so slowly pleasures you.

You can feel him leave your clit, moving his hand upward before stopping at the band of your panties.

“This okay, baby?” he mutters in between kisses, to which you break away to softly reply, “Very okay.”

Your lips connect once more, your hand cupping his cheek as he delves beneath the restriction of your underwear. Inside his own mind, Eddie was floating. He couldn’t believe this was finally happening, and that oddly, he was exemplifying so much confidence.

He relished in the adoration of how wet you were. He doubted that it was merely the underwear that underestimated the amount, you had gotten wetter since he began pleasuring you. You were wet for him.

“Holy shit, baby,” he groans, looking down to see where his hand was buried beneath the fabric of your simple, black panties. His fingers were soaked, travelling lower until they reached your tiny, little hole.

Your face was buried into his neck, nodding frantically as you lifted your leg up higher, giving him access. He felt your head move against the side of his face, his cheek leant against it as he slowly sank one finger inside of you.

The stretch felt so fucking good. The coolness of his ring could be felt against the entrance of your pussy, the tip of his finger softly rubbing against the spongy spot at the back.

He could feel your hot breath against his neck, small whimpers escaping your lips as you simply whispered “More, please. Need more…”

He knew exactly what you meant, but didn’t want to break you. You were tiny, and he would punish himself forever if you even felt an ounce of pain caused by him.

“Don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear, his breath coming out in pants.

“You won’t, my love. Please… Just… I need you so bad.”

And how could he deny that begging? He was one step away from floating to heaven. And if he was being honest, he would happily die this way if it meant you moaning away in his ear.

So, without hesitation, he pulled his finger out, and entered again with two, pushing deep into your pussy.

The stretch was beautifully delicious, the burn being extremely pleasurable as he attacked that spongy spot once again.

He was being delicate, you could recognise that easily. But, that wasn’t something you wanted. What your boyfriend didn’t know is that you were kinky as hell. And the rougher he did it, the more satisfied you would be.

But, Eddie wasn’t all that innocent either. His trips to Family Video were strategically planned so that Robin was on shift, knowing that it was a lot easier (but not completely devoid of awkwardness) if he got his hardcore porn whilst she was working the front counter, rather than someone like Steve Harrington.

“Harder. Please, Eddie, please!” you sobbed into his shoulder. With how full you were, it was almost painful with his slow pace. All you wanted was for him to drive into you with force.

With your cries of frustration, the inner dominance of him struck out, him gritting his teeth and biting on your earlobe, “Yeah, you want it fuckin’ rough, sweetheart?”

“Want nothing more, baby. Please give it to me.”

And with that, he began pumping his fingers in and out of you at lightning speed. With each thrust, the palm of his hand smacked perfectly against your clit, increasing the amount of pleasure you felt.

You were able to give him hickeys on his shoulder purely by biting down whenever he hit particularly hard. Each pull of his skin lended itself with a harsh hiss from between his teeth.

“Is this what you imagined when you were reading that book, baby, huh? Thought about my fingers pumping into you like that?”

Oh god, he was a dirty talker too. You nodded frantically, almost screaming when he stopped pumping, pushing his fingers as deep as they would go and shaking them up and down. The sloshing sounds coming from your pussy made you both moan in unison.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, before continuing to blabber, “Course you did. You think about me often, don’t you, sweetheart? Think about me when you’re alone at night, filling yourself with those sweet toys you have underneath your bed.”

You honestly didn’t even know he knew about them. But, it was hot nonetheless. Knowing that he knew about the nine-inch dildo sent shivers down your spine. God, what if he even saw the strap? The bottom half of a silicone body that you practiced fucking into?

“Always think about you, Eddie. Wanna be fucked by you so bad.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, baby,” he moans into your ear, “Think about you too, you know. Never cum so much until I thought about you bouncing on my cock.”

You let out a harsh whine as you felt yourself teetering close to the edge, but Eddie says it before you, “I know you’re about to cum, baby. You gonna cum for me?”

“Gonna cum so hard for you, Eds.”

He can feel you getting tighter and tighter, struggling to move his fingers inside of you, “Then show me, baby. Let go for me.”

And with that cooing, you let out a silent scream, followed by a loud moan as your legs shook violently, tightening around Eddie’s arm, locking him in place as he slowly pumped his fingers, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

“So good for me, baby. So fucking good.”

As you came down from your high, you placed delicate kisses over the marks you had made on his shoulder, Eddie slowly pulling his fingers from you.

But, you gently lifted his hand to your mouth, taking both digits and sucking them clean, exaggeratedly moaning over them and rolling your eyes back on purpose. You felt the strain of his jeans against your thigh ages ago, you were deliberately trying to wind him up.

“Fuckin’ hell, honey. Why didn’t we do that sooner?”

You giggle, biting your lip as you breathe out, “Didn’t know you were as kinky as me.”

“That day I didn’t come into school because I was ‘sick’ was because I came four times after seeing your sex toys the night before. I couldn’t walk all day.”

“Oh my God,” you breathlessly laugh into his shoulder. “Well…” you begin to place soft kisses on his jaw, “I could make that fantasy of yours become a reality if you’d like.”

Eddie felt his dick kick against his jeans. Looks like his body was giving him an answer before he got his head straight.

“Please, baby” he practically whines, “But, don’t expect it to be as sexy as it was a second ago. I doubt I’m going to last longer than a couple minutes.”

“Don’t care,” you say, beginning to un-do his belt buckle, pushing him down onto the mattress softly, “Just need to feel you fill me up.”

Eddie moaned at your dirty words, but had to make sure of something before you started. “Birth control, right?”

“Yeah. On the pill,” you reply, capturing his lips in your own.

Thank God. He could not be dealing with a mini Munson just yet.

You slowly remove his jeans and boxers, tossing them across the room as his cock smacks against his stomach. He was delicious. Had to be around six inches long, girth about the same, curved slightly to the right. He was going to fit amazingly inside of you, you just knew it.

You positioned yourself on top of him, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing him against your wetness, remembering that practicality was still needed, even if you just wanted to fuck yourself stupid.

You look up at him, checking he was okay, “Ready?”

He nodded, “Always for you, baby.”

And so you began, sinking down onto his beautiful cock, Eddie letting out a choked moan beneath you. If a God truly did exist, you would definitely be thanking him for creating this gorgeous specimen falling apart in front of you.

You leant down, whispering and panting in his ear, “Tell me when to move, baby.”

Eddie grabbed onto your waist, preparing himself for what’s to come, “Move, sweetheart. Jesus Christ.”

And so you did, beginning to slowly lift yourself up, before slamming back down onto his cock. Both of you let out deep groans in sync, you immediately picking your pace up, struggling to contain yourself.

The wet sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room, combined with your whines and Eddie’s deep moans. You pressed down on his chest, using it as leverage to increase your deepness.

Not realising your eyes had been closed the entire time, you slowly opened them, seeing Eddie’s mouth in the perfect ‘O’ and his bangs sticking to his forehead, his eyes closed in delight.

“Open your eyes for me, baby. Need to see your pretty eyes.”

He opens his eyes, almost instantly looking down to where your bodies connected.

“Better than you imagined, huh?” you taunted, your dominance seeping out, “Your cock wasn’t ready for how good this would be, was it baby?”

He shakes his head, completely submitting to you, “Never, baby. Feels so fucking good. Feels like I’m fucking dreaming.”

You try to thrust as hard as you can, assuring him that he wasn’t dreaming at all. That this was all very much real. That his first time was this rough. That his girlfriend was kinky as shit.

Suddenly, you feel his cock begin to twitch inside of you. You mockingly laugh at him, “Your poor baby says otherwise, honey. Think he wants to cum. Am I right in thinking that? He wants to fill me up?”

God, something about you referring to his cock in the third person was about to send him spiralling over the edge. He could barely form words, too pussy-drunk to be able to speak. “Y-Yeah. Gonna cum.”

“I can tell, baby,” you say, leaning forward and whispering into his ear, “Cum in me, please. Really need you to fill me up.”

And with a supported groan, his warm cum splashed against your inner walls, sticking to you as he twitched and moaned.

“Good boy. Good fucking boy,” you whispered as he came down from his high, his dick becoming soft inside of you.

As you lifted yourself off of him, his cum began leaking out of you, the both of you marvelling at the sight.

“Holy shit,” Eddie sighs out happily, watching it drip into a pile just above his cock, gently caressing your hip.

“We just did that,” you giggle, grinning happily as you collapse onto Eddie’s chest, kissing him silly, smiling against his lips.

“That was… something else.”

“Better than you expected?” you ask, a sudden shyness washing over you, almost a hint of self-consciousness, afraid you took things too far.

“Never dreamed it could be that good in a million years,” he sighs. “Sorry I didn’t last long.”

She grabs his wrist, looking at the object encompassing his wrist, “Seven minutes isn’t bad at all for a first timer!”

Eddie began chuckling, “You looked at my watch before we started?”

You hide into his shoulder, “Wanted to see how well you would do.”

He places a soft kiss on your forehead and laughs, “You nerd. I love you so much.”

You smile softly, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks, “I love you too, baby.”

And with the both of you tired out from your day’s events, you fall asleep peacefully wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that if there’s one place you’d both like to be for the rest of your lives, it would be here.

requests are open! if you would like to send me any asks, check out my character list and send me anything that i have specified is appropriate!

taglist: @cosmorant @ye0nvibezzn @tlclick73 @superlegend216

[apomaro-mellow]

"Okay, be straight with me."

Steve leveled a look and Eddie almost swooned but he kept it together. This was serious.

"Right, okay, be bisexual with me."

"Eddie, we're in public", Steve said, mock-scandalized.

"I'm starting to regret becoming a level 5 friend of yours Harrington." Dustin had said Steve could get silly and goofy. Of course Eddie didn't believe it. Not until he had seen it. Not until he had seen that secret handshake of theirs and seen him pump his fist in victory when he beat Erica at rock, paper, scissors, and when he'd seen him-

"Did you have something to say, or...?"

"Yeah! Okay, so, what I wanted to ask waaaas, did you ever, you know, look at any guys?" Eddie cleared his throat and continued when Steve looked at him blankly. "Sinfully?"

The location for this conversation could either be really good or really bad. In the McDonald's parking lot on a late afternoon. Steve just got off from a relatively short shift and wanted lunch. Eddie was wasting time until Hellfire that night. Of course they were eating in Eddie's van. Not a single crumb graced Steve's car.

"I mean, I guess I did", Steve shrugged. "Before I really understood what I was feeling. Honestly it felt like I just hated guys for no reason."

Eddie nodded in understanding. Before realizing what all those slurs meant, he definitely felt like some dudes were attractive in a way just to spite him. Then he came to realize he didn't want to punch them, but to do...well other things with his hands.

"Soooo, you ever have a crush?"

Steve let out a bark of laughter so loud it startled Eddie.

"What are you serious?"

"I-yes? What? Is it so ridiculous?"

"Eddie I-", Steve cut himself off and looked him in the eyes. "You asked me that question and you really don't know?"

"Is it a sensitive topic?" Eddie went on ahead and stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth before he stuck his foot in it.

"No, it's just, you of all people asking me that." Steve put a hand to his mouth and looked out the window and Eddie felt like he was missing something.

"So was there ever anyone?"

Steve turned back towards him. "Was...and is."

"Well shit, don't leave me hangin'."

"Are we doing girl talk or something now?", Steve grinned.

"I know for a fact you and Bucks talk about the girls she likes. Why can't you talk to a fellow queer about boys?"

"I've talked to Argyle and Jonathan about it", Steve shrugged.

Now that got Eddie raring. Jonathan he could understand. But he just met Argyle!

"Okay, you gotta tell me. It can be either the 'was' or the 'is' but I need to know who caught the eye of the Hair."

Steve laughed again, this time bending over. "Eye of the Hair sounds like one of your dungeon things."

"Don't try and distract me with DnD, Steve. Spill."

"Okay, okay. Let's talk about this is."

Eddie was torn. On the one hand, he really did want to know who Steve was crushing on. On the other hand, if he knew the dude what was stopping him from going over to his house and busting his nose?

"So, he's our age. Went to Hawkins High-"

"Wow that really narrows it down."

"He and I were in different cliques. Didn't hang out a lot until he started hangin around my kids."

Eddie let out a snort. "You do remember you didn't actually birth a gaggle of children, right?"

"You wanna hear this or not?"

"Continue."

"Anyway, he's a nerd. Like a huuuge nerd. Like sometimes I can't even believe I like him, but then he...I mean I....it's not like I like him despite his nerdiness. I like that part of him too now."

Eddie began listing the choices. Someone from school, who hung out with the kids? Recent? That could be someone from Hellfire. Kind of think of it, Steve and Jeff have been talking a lot more recently. It was just here or there when Steve was dropping off or picking up kids from meetings but still...

"Can I get a description?"

"What are you? The cops?"

"How dare you!"

"He's got dark hair and dark eyes", Steve conceded with a roll of his eyes.

Fuck it could be Jeff. Okay, okay, he could be supportive. Jeff was a good guy. A great guy. And Jeff would be a lucky son of a bitch to get Steve.

"Son of a bitch", he murmured.

"Hm?"

"Son of a witch, nerd thing", Eddie waved off. "I think you should be able to trust me with his name. I could even maybe hook you two up if I just so happen to know him~"

"You'd hook me up with some guy?", Steve asked.

"I know right, I'm so generous." And maybe if Jeff blew his chance with Steve, he could be there to pick up the pieces. No! Bad Munson! Bad thoughts. Jeff would never hurt Steve and he shouldn't hope for it. But what if it wasn't Jeff?

What if it was some other geek he didn't know? The freshies were into science too. What if it was that chemistry dork Howard?

"Actually, I think I really do need to know who this guy is. Need to be sure he's good enough for you."

Steve smiled in a way that rivaled the sun and Eddie truly felt like a knight in shining armor. He'd protect his princess from any undeserving mouthbreather.

"I think he's more than worthy. And I hope you would agree", Steve said.

"I'll know for sure once I see him." Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, already formulating ideas to make this dude wet his pants. "So tell me more about him."

"Okay, we knew of each other for a while, but the first time we officially talked, he attacked me."

"Red flag. No go."

"In his defense, he was on the run from the law", Steve added quickly.

"A criminal? Second red flag."

"Allegedly. And that's big talk comin' from a drug dealer."

"Who you partake with", Eddie reminded him.

"I do. But it's a little less than legal what you do. As is several things both of us have done. I don't think either of us has a high horse to look down on."

Eddie hemmed and hawed before letting out a sigh. "Alright, we'll call that a yellow flag for now. What else?"

"He's just...so different from anyone else I've ever been into, Eds. I'm really into him. Like an embarrassing amount." And now Steve was blushing and Eddie felt jealousy boil in his gut. But he also felt happy that Steve was happy. He could take solace in that. Even if he wanted to deck this guy on principle.

"Do you know if he's like us?"

"Oh, I know", Steve said, putting his elbow on the rest between them and leaning in close. "Wanna know more?"

And fuck his masochistic heart, he did. What could this guy have that he didn't?

After Eddie nodded, Steve continued. "He's larger than life, honestly. In a way I thought I used to be but he's the genuine real deal. He can be kind of a jerk, but it's clear when he cares. And that mouth-"

"Okay! Please stop torturing me and tell me who this guy is so I can decide if I hate him or not!"

Steve was laughing again and as beautiful as it was, Eddie felt like a joke himself.

"If you're gonna start hating yourself then we've got a problem", Steve said.

Eddie jerked around like he was short circuiting as all the pieces came into place. High school, nerd, with the kids, attacked him, running from the law.

"You! You are unbelievable, you know that?"

"That's a new one", Steve was still grinning. "So are you gonna kiss me now? Or are you not worthy?"

They were in a parking lot. In broad daylight. This could be bad. But Eddie was a weak, weak man and his dream boy was asking for a kiss. So he leaned in and obliged. Son of a bitch he was the son of a bitch that caught Steve's eye.

"Well?", Steve asked when they pulled away. "What do you think of the guy I like?"

"I still think you could do better."

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Steddie rockstar x roadie AU, with Steve being Eddie's queer awakening

(in a not-fic-format because I cannot be arsed to actually write it)

So. Corroded Coffin isn't huge by any means, but they're big enough. Successful and respected within their genre. Has a loyal fanbase, constantly sells out smaller venues, gets to go on tour every so often. They're rockstars who've made it while still getting to live like they're not rockstars when off the clock (and stage). The best of both worlds, really.

They're gearing up for another tour and have a couple of new faces on their crew. One of them got the job by being a friend of a friend. He doesn't at all look like he'd be a roadie for CC, and he doesn't actually listen to them – he's more into classic rock (respectable) and occasionally new wave (not respectable), but it's whatever. He's strong and hard-working and gets the job done. He also withstands the initial hazing like a champ, even biting back a few times. Yeah, Steve Harrington carves a place for himself in the crew and is soon one of them.

Eddie is especially fond of the new guy. Partly because it's clear Steve is as enamored with Dustin as Eddie is, and mutual interests bring people together. But also because Steve is simply a fun dude to be around? He's nice. Except for when he's mean; then he's funny instead. He's honestly funny a lot of times, even when he doesn't mean to be. Like, sometimes someone will make an exceptionally nerdy reference that he doesn't get, so he'll tilt his head and scrunch his eyebrows as it's explained to him. And, all right, maybe that's not funny, per se. More like cute. Endearing. Eddie often finds himself endeared and wanting to pat Steve on the head like the sweet little puppy he so strongly resembles.

The others mock him for it. Tease him about his man-crush on Harrington. Eddie laughs along with them, because yeah! Were he into men, Steve absolutely would've been his type. Look at him! Guy's ripped and has great hair (almost better than Eddie's. Just imagine the mane it'd be if he let it grow past his shoulders...) and Eddie has great taste. He'd for sure be head over heels for Steve if he were gay, and he is man enough to admit it.

That's how the flirting starts – as an extension of the joke. It's not out of character for Eddie, who flirts with everyone. With reporters, interviewers, photographers, TSA officers, venue security, other bands, anyone! Gender, age, or appearance don't matter because flirting is fun. And it's especially fun to flirt with Steve, because he flirts back! No matter how much Eddie does it, Steve will flirt back and help make everyone laugh. It's a great part of their dynamic and actually brings them closer as friends. Dustin would be proud of them.

So, while on tour, they have this thing where one member of the crew gets to decide where they'll go after shows or on their days off. Participation is optional but encouraged, because it's an 'organic bonding experience' or whatever their manager called it. Occasionally it'll be a movie or a museum, but usually the destination is a bar or club. What's there to say, they're a bunch of male, red-blooded twenty to thirty-somethings – what better pasttime is there than to get drunk after a hard day's work? Yeah, every so often someone will pick up a girl, but it's a rare occurrence. A bunch of the guys has special ladies waiting at home, and for the single ones it's much easier to just book a date with their own hand.

There's one guy on the crew, Peter, who always takes them to a gay bar when it's his turn. This because he is gay. Duh. No one minds it, and if they do they don't come back next tour. Corroded Coffin prides themselves on their allyship. They're freaks of nature welcoming all other freaks of nature. Seriously, what does it matter if a dude likes cock instead of tits? Why is it wrong if he wants it up the ass? It's actually not that bad! See, Eddie used to date this woman who was puh-retty kinky. Pegging was just one of the many, many, maaaaaaany things she enjoyed. And Eddie loved her, so, well. It wasn't as good as she claimed it'd be, but it was fine. Enjoyable enough to do again. The point is that CC doesn't dance with homophobia, and Eddie will scream it from the top of every table.

Anyway. When it's Peter's turn, Steve (who hasn't gotten to pick yet because he's the newbie and they pick last) comments upon it. Nothing big. Nothing bad. Still, Gareth is on him, puffing himself up like a chihuahua and asking if Steve has a problem with it.

Eddie’s hands turn clammy with nerves in the split second it takes for Steve to roll his eyes and scoff "of course not".

Look, he'd really like for Steve to be back next tour, okay? They're buddies now and he doesn't want to lose him to bigotry. Also, it'd suck to have to tell Dustin that the guy he hero-worships is actually a douchebag. Nothing to fear, however – Steve continues to prove himself to be a good dude. He doesn't even blink when propositioned at the club! Simply tells them "thanks, but no thanks". Unsurprising, since he's cool with Eddie's nonsense, but there's a difference between a straight guy hitting on you as a joke and a gay guy doing it for real. At least, for some it is. But not for Steve. Fuck, Eddie hopes he'll be back next tour. He's on his way to being Eddie's new best friend and he'd miss him.

Then, it's time – they're in Chicago and it's Steve's turn to pick. Some of the others grumble over the newbie getting such a big city at his disposal. Eddie doesn't blame them for suspecting favoritism – it's happened before – but not this time! It just became like this and Eddie has nothing to do with it! Ask the other band members.

(When he breaks the news to Steve, his hazel eyes light up. He asks, "Can a friend of mine come with?"

"Sure, man," Eddie says, clapping him on the shoulder.

Steve buzzes with excitement, giddier than a kid on Christmas morning. Fuck, he's so cute.)

That night after the show, as they're leaving for the 'organic bonding experience' (seriously, Chrissy? Of all the things you could call it...), they're met by a young woman outside the venue.

She's tall and skinny, like a giraffe, and that's all Eddie can tell at first glance because she rushes up and flings herself into Steve's embrace. They hug, they laugh, they might cry a little, and he even spins around with her in his arms.

(Girlfriend? She's certainly pretty enough for it.)

Once the heartwarming reunion is over, Steve introduces her as Robin, and tells her that it's his turn to pick a place for them to decompress but he's making it her choice. Robin spits out options with a speed none of them keep up with; Steve stops her, saying, "No, Robs. I'm making it your choice."

They share a look.

She gasps.

They grin, mischievously, and then...

She takes them to a lesbian club.

It's open to gay guys too, obviously, but clearly caters to lesbians. It's a smaller thing, the kind that entertains a steady line of regulars. Apparently, Robin and Steve are among these regulars, because the bartender greets them by name the moment they step inside.

They order their drinks and claim a booth. Robin is quick to instigate a discussion about what dorky things Steve has done while away from her. Eddie is happy to share while Steve laments he should've known better than to introduce them.

An hour or so in, Robin skitters off to catch up with a group of women, all varying degrees of butch. Not ten seconds later, someone new claims her seat (which is also Steve's lap). Eddie mistakes them for a girl at first, because they're small with a high-pitched voice, but no, it's just the twinkiest twink. He makes himself at home on Steve's thigh, pressing a kiss to Steve's cheek and squealing, "Stevie! I didn't know you were back!"

Steve laughs. "Hey, babe. Just for tonight. I'm here with my coworkers."

The twink twists around in Steve's lap. He really is girly-looking: soft jawline, slender build, shoulder-length blond waves, and huge eyes enhanced with makeup. He even smells like a woman, strawberry and jasmine.

"Oh! The rock band!" He extends a dainty hand. "Hi, I'm Brendan!"

Brendan sticks around for a while. Like Robin, he wants to know what Steve's been up to. Unlike Robin, he's more interested in awe-inspiring stories than embarrassing ones (unfortunate, for the latter kind heavily outweighs the former). He doesn't move from Steve's lap. Kind of weird, actually. Like, there are available seats. Yes, Robin also sat exclusively in Steve's lap, but that's different. They're best friends and it was chaste and cute. Brendan is... honestly, Eddie doesn't know who Brendan is. Some dude who's shameless enough to rub his ass on Steve's dick in full view of everyone. Yeah, you're not as subtle as you think, babe.

He doesn't even move when they get up to let another crew member go to the bathroom! No, Steve slides out of the booth still holding him, Brendan perched on his forearm. His muscles flex, a vein straining underneath the skin, but Steve's face is relaxed. As if the – small, sure, but still grown – man in his arms weighs nothing. More likely, Steve is just that used to carrying things.

For some reason, Eddie's mouth dries a little at the thought of it.

At last, Brendan leaves, but not before sweetly kissing Steve on the lips and telling him to "let me know when you're back for real, stud".

Steve promises with a laugh, then turns back to the table and rejoins the conversation as if it was nothing strange. As if making dates with other men happens to him all the time.

Shit.

The entire thing leaves something gnawing on Eddie. He holds it in while in the club. He holds it in when they escort Robin to her cab. He holds it in as they walk back to the tour buses.

Then the others are gone. It's just him and Steve left, lingering to smoke in the parking lot, and he can't hold it any longer.

"I didn't know you're gay!"

Smoothness, thy name is Eddie Munson.

Steve shrugs. "I'm not; I'm bisexual."

"Right, right."

Eddie takes a deep drag, putting some of the smoke in the wrong pipe and coughing it up. Steve thumps his back.

"Woah, man, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Eddie rasps, tears prickling his eyes. "So, um, is it okay? What we've been... The flirting?"

"Uh, yeah?" Steve tilts his head, eyebrows scrunching and, Jesus Christ, how can he be so adorable? "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because!" Eddie gestures between the two of them. "You're bi, and I'm not, and is it offensive for me to...?"

Steve blinks at him, before bursting into laughter. Eddie feels the blush warming his neck.

"Don't be stupid," Steve says in between peals of giggles. "It's just a fun thing. S'not that deep. You don't have to lose sleep over it."

"Alright, man. Then I won't."

But he does.

That very night he finds himself tossing and turning. And thinking. Thinking about Steve. About Steve's strong arms and broad chest. About his square jaw and plush lips. About his thick hair and hooded eyes. About how the ugly polo shirts the techs wear look genuinely good on Steve, and about how his tight jeans leave little to the imagination. That particular line of thought has Eddie whimper and roll his hips against the mattress. Rachael's strap-on always felt kind of so-so. Was it because it was too rubbery or because it was too small?

He also thinks about what makes Steve Steve. Like Steve's selflessness, always the first to volunteer to do the tedious work so no one else has to. And Steve's barbed tongue, sharp enough to give even Eddie a run for his money. Eddie thinks about their easy banter, and how Dustin sings his praises, and how Steve let Robin pick a club when it was his turn.

After three consecutive nights of tossing, turning, thinking, and no sleep, Eddie comes to a horrifying conclusion.

It's not simply a question of 'want'. He's not just horny and curious. No, he likes Steve.

It makes things so fucking awkward. He has no idea how to act around Steve afterward. Falling for a crew member is bad enough (so unprofessional; Chrissy would definitely be on his case if she knew), but this is worse because he's a guy. Eddie's never been into guys before! Sure, there are men out there who are objectively hot. Eddie can admit that. But it's not the same. There are feelings involved here.

And the worst is that people notice. Steve notices. How can he not? When Eddie stops responding to their usual flirting, turning into a skittish bunny whenever Steve is close.

At first, it makes Steve pause. Tilt his head, scrunch his eyebrows, and pout in confusion (Eddie's heartbeat turns irregular every time he does). Then Steve pulls away, and Eddie's heart fucking breaks. The atmosphere among the crew turns tense; Peter starts sending him dirty looks that Eddie shrinks away from.

A few days into it, he's cornered by a pissed off Jeff.

"Dude, what's your problem?" he snaps; Eddie wants to sink into the ground. "I thought you were better than this. Who cares that Harrington is also into dudes? It's still Harrington! It won't kill you to treat him like you used to. No one is going to think you're gay for standing next to him."

Eddie croaks, "What if I am?"

"You- What?"

"What if... I like Steve?"

Jeff's jaw hits the floor. "What."

Eddie inhales deeply, staring at his wringing hands. "I like Steve. I've been thinking... After Chicago, I started to think about... And I realized I like him." A sob tears from his throat. "I don't know what I should-"

Jeff's arms wrap around him; Eddie buries his face in the crook of his neck.

"Jesus Christ," Jeff mutters, stroking Eddie's back. "Um, it's okay? We support you. No one will judge you! We love you all the same."

Eddie nods, Jeff's leather jacket squeaking with the movement. He's been wearing it since high school and it smells like home.

"I don't know how to act around him anymore," he sniffles.

"Why don't you tell him?"

Eddie recoils from the embrace to give Jeff his mightiest 'are you stupid for real' look. Jeff sighs at him.

"Oh, come on. You're his friend and a good-looking guy. Why not?" Jeff says, as if it's that easy. But...

"I'm not his type!"

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do! Didn't you see that Brendan guy?"

Jeff falters. He realizes Eddie is right. Because, yes, Eddie is pretty hot. He has the long hair and a pretty face, he's been told. But he's still a masculine guy. A blue-collar type with calluses on his hands and dirt under his nails. He's not a svelte, dainty, little twink – he's as tall as Steve is, with more tattoos than bare skin and who smells like sweat and tobacco badly masked with cheap cologne, not strawberries and jasmine. He doesn't wear makeup or do his hair and some days he just fucking picks a used shirt from his pile and maybe sniffs it before putting it on. He talks too much and too loud. His limbs flail when he's excited. He's not going to sweetly ask for flattering stories about Steve – his instinct is to tease him for calling one of the guys from Nip/Tuck 'Dr. McDreamy'. He's closer to Robin than he is to Brendan. Jesus Christ, he's in the same category as Steve's lesbian best friend! Or at least he was, before he shot their friendship to hell.

There's no hope.

The tour ends on a sourer note than previous ones. It's all Eddie's fault. He doesn't even stick around for the last 'organic bonding experience' – he gets into his car at the first opportunity and drives home.

And then comes the wallowing. Several tubs of ice cream are consumed as High Fidelity plays on loop on Eddie's TV. He writes dozens of miserable, yearning songs and screens his calls, not even picking up for Chrissy or Wayne. It's not until Dustin's cheerful lisp rings out from his answering machine that there's a change. He's inviting Eddie to come visit him and Suzie and the cats in Massachusetts, like he always does after a tour.

Eddie can't turn that down. Besides, he probably needs to get out of the house.

So he goes, and it's nice. Dustin is still a little shit, Suzie is a pearl, the cats are cuddly, and Eddie is a good enough faker to mask his emotional state – his hosts notice nothing amiss.

Then, halfway through his visit, Eddie returns from his walk and who does he find unpacking their car in Dustin and Suzie's driveway?

Can you guess? I think you can.

It's Robin!

And Steve. They're a package deal, you know.

And Dustin's like, "Eddie! They're here! Oh, did I forget to tell you they were coming? Oops. Well, you already know them, so it's fine."

And Eddie is panicking, and Robin is trying to murder him with her mind, and Steve is just like,

"Hey."

Coldly polite.

Eddie hides in his guest room until dinner time. When he comes out, he expects Dustin to chew him out for being an asshole homophobe and kick him out of his life permanently.

But he doesn't. Dinner is as usual, if Steve Harrington ignoring you and Robin Buckley glaring at you is part of your usual dinner experience.

After cleaning up, Steve steps outside to smoke. Eddie, figuring he has to take some responsibility, follows him. Steve is standing on the deck, elbows resting on the wooden railing, his back to the house. He straightens up and turns when Eddie closes the screen door behind him. The sun has set, but the moon is out; Steve's profile is sharp in the pale moonlight, his posture sure. The cherry of his cigarette makes shadows and flames flicker dramatically over his features, highlighting the edges and the curves and he's so fucking gorgeous Eddie forgets how to breathe. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

He slinks over, Steve's gaze following him.

"Hi," Eddie says.

"Hi," Steve says.

"You didn't..." Eddie swallows. "You didn't tell Dustin?"

Steve frowns. "No. It's between us. For now, at least."

"Oh."

Shuddering, Eddie wraps his arms around himself. It's late summer and still warmish as long as there's no wind. Right now it's windless, the cold coming from within.

"I wanted to talk."

Steve hums, noncommittal.

"I wanted to apologize."

Another hum, more interested.

"I'm sorry. For how I acted. I've been an asshole and you don't deserve any of that."

Eddie glances up to gauge Steve's reaction, and oh. The whole evening, Steve's been aloof, cordially keeping Eddie at arm's length, but now...

Now he just looks sad.

A few weeks ago, they were close enough for Eddie to hug him when he looked like this. Eddie would crush his own heart with a sledgehammer if it meant they'll go back to that.

He says, "We haven't known each other for long, but you're already one of my best friends. Then it got weird at the end and-"

Steve's face hardens again, eyes tapering with anger.

"Things didn't 'get weird', Eddie. You made them weird. What the fuck?"

And Eddie takes a deep breath and says,

"I like you."

Shock colors Steve's expression; he takes a step back. It takes everything to stop Eddie from following in an attempt to reel him back in.

"I don't know when it started," he says, the confession tumbling out. "I always liked you? You're a good guy and fun to hang with and a great friend, and I guess you were hot, but a ton of guys are hot and it doesn't have to mean anything. I can be straight and still think guys are hot, you know? But then, in Chicago, you came out and I started seeing you differently. So, huh, turns out, in my case? Thinking guys are hot does mean something. And I freaked out because I didn't know what to do. Being close to you made me so nervous, and I couldn't tell you how I felt because just because you like guys doesn't mean you like me, and I already know your type is cute little blond twinks, and-"

"I actually prefer brunets," Steve says.

Eddie chokes on what else he had to say. He looks up at Steve, who's smiling. Kind of shy but mostly bright, eyes crinkling at the corners. His cigarette is almost down to the filter; Steve drops and snuffs it out without looking away from Eddie. His eyes are like gold, glittering.

"Y-you what?"

"I don't really have a type," Steve says, stepping closer. "I like who I like." Another step. "But, uh, most of my relationships have been with brunets." Another step, then stop – they're nose to nose. "Nerdy ones."

Eddie's head spins. He squeaks, "Oh?"

Steve nods. "I like smart, passionate people. And I..." He giggles. "I've had a crush on you since the beginning."

Eddie's head fucking explodes. It leaves a gash in his face that stretches from ear to ear. A breeze blows past, caressing his burning cheeks. It's his turn to giggle.

"You're fucking with me."

Steve tilts his head, but doesn't scrunch his brow this time. No, it remains smooth, but his eyelids droop as his eyes roam Eddie's body.

"So far, only in my head."

Eddie sputters. He grabs a fistful of hair and pulls it in front of his red face. Steve, the bastard, laughs at him. He reaches out, coaxing the locks out of Eddie's grip and tucks them behind his ear. There's an endlessness in his gaze; simultaneously looking through Eddie and at him. Seeing him from every angle, especially the ugly ones, but touching him just as tenderly anyway.

Eddie wets his lips. Since he caused the distance in the first place, it only seems fair he takes the last step. "Do you want to go out with me?" he asks. "A date?"

Steve leans in until they touch from forehead to nose tip.

"Yes," he says. "I do."

[dnpbeats]

drop the dan loving goblin phil essay rn

(in reference to my tag on this post)

OKAY SO! In BIG dan says this about phil: "And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. [...] Especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference" (ty @goldenpinof for the transcript 🕺). Now obviously, this is in the context of dan being gay so for the most part he's referencing his sexuality here when he talks about being accepted, and I am not trying to undermine that at all. But I think that phil's acceptance of dan went deeper than just his sexuality (goblin Phil comes into this I promise lol).

dan also talks a bit in BIG about how he was nerdy and was bullied for that before he was bullied for being gay. He's also mentioned other times how being nerdy/geeky didn't use to be accepted. In the 4/13 stereo show, dan says: "Before YouTube, if you were a nerd, you felt like you weren't a valid member of society unless you were, like, captain of the football team or whatever. [...] Now, thanks to social media, it's like 'oh, okay, well if someone like Hank Green can exist, I'm fine.'" What's extra interesting about this example specifically is that dan is talking about representation in response to a fan prompting him to talk about queer representation in media. So like, yes the majority of dan's struggles in accepting himself were surrounding his sexuality, but I do also think there was a layer of being a nerdy kid at a time when it wasn't cool or fun that added onto him not accepting himself. And I do not think that that's completely separate from his nonacceptance of his sexuality.

So, what exactly does this have to do with dan expecting phil to be super debonair and then having those expectations shattered? But then still wanting phil, arguably even more than he did before? Well, I think that phil was (and is) unapologetically himself, and that was inspiring for dan to see. dan said in BIG that he didn't meet an out gay person until he was 18, so either that person was phil himself or he met phil shortly afterwards and phil was therefore one of the first out gay people dan knew. and we know from phil's coming out video that he wasn't ashamed of his sexuality at that time. but phil's acceptance of himself goes beyond his sexuality, like just look at his YouTube content at the time. he was doing experimental stuff that was weird as shit (I don't mean that in a bad way I like his old vids!). most people probably would not have the confidence or self-assurance to make the stuff he was making, let alone post it. and then, beyond that, he was just a nerdy guy himself! but it was something that he openly talked about online and we know he and dan bonded over video games/tv shows/etc.

And now let's think about this from dan's perspective. He's been watching this guy's videos forever. He's been talking to him online for the past couple of months, and while he was talking with phil (rather than "amazingphil"), I'm sure there was still that element of like "wow holy shit I can't believe I'm talking with amazingphil!" Hence why dan says in the mean girls video that he was expecting phil to be all "hi, I'm amazingphil! 😏" when they first met (also side note, when dan starts to make this joke phil starts doing it at the same time, so I'm sure this is a discussion they've had before lol). but Phil wasn't like that!!! he was all hunched over and awkward and dorky! because he was nervous!! BUT he wasn't ashamed of that. he wasn't trying to put on some AmazingPhil™ Smooth Operator Refined front. He was just himself. Unapologetically so. And for dan, I think that that meant so much in terms of accepting himself, but also feeling accepted. because how was he going to believe phil when he said "dan I love you for who you are" if phil was hiding himself around dan?

So yeah, I think that's why dan saw goblin phil, not amazingphil, and was still like "yeah I want to build my life with this person." Because for him, phil represented self-acceptance and being accepted and a safe place and someone who he could be on the same wavelength with and true unconditional love and someone he can geek out with and someone who will let him yap for an hour about whatever the hell dan has decided to talk about that day. of course he would like phil more than whatever version of amazingphil he had built up in his head. because phil loves dan for who he truly is and dan loves phil for who he truly is :)

[drdemonprince]

So, I (a trans guy) am kind of coming to terms with the fact that I might be more gay than bisexual after all. Where I live, the queer community is split pretty definitively between the "women, non binary and trans people" (or FLINTA*, if you're familiar with that horrible term) and the gay male community. While I have lots of problems with the former, it is kind of the community I am in, mostly because it has felt safe during my transition. It still feels safe, but not really comfortable. I want to feel like I am part of the gay male community, especially if I mostly want to date queer men in the future.

I am like, so scared of existing in any gay male spaces. When I tried being in them pre T, I felt like an imposter. When I travelled to the US a few years ago, the only place my then partner (also on T) and me were misgendered consistently was in gay bars (in a lot of famous "gay friendly" cities). All of this has left me with a sense of humiliation and not-belonging that gets reactivated every time I even think of stepping into one again, even if I am fairly certain I would not get this reaction now.

How do I get past the shame that is attached to my previous experiences and learn to actually enjoy myself there?

So, I believe that you have the order of operations wrong here. You don't get past shame and then go out to these gay spaces -- you go out to those gay spaces and then overcome (some) of your shame. And that shame may live with you forever in some form. You can still have a worthwhile life with it.

Go to the gay bars. There are many different kinds of them, all with wildly different energies and clientelle, and it is normal and boring and blase for trans guys to be at each and every single one of them.

One way that many newbies unwittingly screw up is by going to the most circuity, dance-y kinds of gay bars that tend to be filled with young, thin, rich, superficial people -- and then they mistake the meanness of that crowd for the meanness of all gays, or interpret the meanness as a sign they are not accepted by "the gay male community."

There is no singular gay male community. There are in fact a wide variety of subcultures with their own beauty standards, stylistic choices, interests, and norms. And there's a lot of cliquishness and mean girl behavior among people who have decided they are high rank in any particular small subculture, don't get me wrong. But you don't have to believe in any of it. They're just coping with their own history of marginalization and rejection by trying to become a new ruling class within their own tiny pond. You can laugh it off as the work of kind of sad, small thinking and just enjoy yourself and talk to people who are not assholes.

So, go to the leather bar. Go to a pup night. Go to an old-timers bar filled with gays over 60 (they will be nice to you and buy you drinks, I promise). Go to a gay bar that's casual and nerdy, with arcade machines and pub trivia. Go to a drag bar on a weekday night and meet some of the newer queens who are still trying to find their chops. And yes, go to the DJ sets and dance clubs all you like, but don't let what a few snatched bitchy 22-year-olds (or insecure former twink 42 year old real estate agents) get you feeling insecure. They're doing that shit because they are insecure.

Bring a friend. Talk to someone who seems nervous and alone on the side of the dance floor, too. Wear an outfit that will get some compliments. Nurse a drink at the bar and trawl grindr to see if anyone seems worth talking to. Join a dungeon or a gay running group. Attend a gay men's support group at your local lgbt center. Meet a ton of people and just get yourself out there, and quickly you will realize that your mind has wildly over dramatized how much you stand out or how much anybody cares.

Fat gays, disabled gays, older gays, Autistic gays, nerdy gays, poor gays, Black and brown gays, immigrant gays, they all feel like they do not belong and are not welcome too. Find them and be kind to them and hold onto them. Notice who is nice and warm with you, but also don't read into it too much if some people are just neutral. Eventually you will figure out what you like doing, which spaces you enjoy inhabiting, and who you want to be there with -- and then you'll have some fun.

[barbthebuilder]

This is my parting message

I gave myself time to think and talked to some people about this and I have decided to say goodbye to y'all.

Time here has been great and I loved pretty much every second of it. However, I want to focus on my real life now. Tumblr became too big of a part of my life for my comfort. Basically, I think it will be better if I quit.

I don't regret this blog. It made me very comfortable in my identity, it educated me, it made me feel loved and brave and powerful.

But it's over.

I can't thank you enough for everything you have done for me. For every like, comment, reblog, ask, tag, message and boop.

So... this is it. This is the end. This has been such a wonderful journey :')

Special thanks to:

@our-genderfluid-experience - great place to tell your story

@genderfluid-culture-iss - Bro letting people just spill the most relatable shit ever. Loving it.

@our-queer-experience - so much good info! Educated me a lot.

@hefkerut - I just want you to know you're an incredible person and I will always remember you. Like, seriously girl. I had such a blast with ya. You also always reblog the best shit?? You rock.

@genderoftoday - always provided me with content to reblog. Also, funny.

@genderfluid-info-blog - actually, such a smart person. Gives great advice and provides us with so many microlables. Mad respect.

@mxl4vrie - THANK YOU FOR THE FANART I SOMETIMES LOOK AT IT AND SMILE :DDD

@rat0

@popcorn-plots

@aegosexual-moments - you made me realize I'm aegosexual! Thanks a lot!

@alwaysprey

@sundry-whovengerslocked

@fruityracoons - dude, you were such a great support. Thanks for always checking up on me.

@frogofalltime

@foxinasuit - you actually made me realize I want to quit lmao I'm not leaving your side tho hehehe >:)

@joker1315 - always a pleasant conversation with this one! I still remember how you helped me with all that technical stuff :)

@kodiescove - learned a lot from you

@korane06

@littlemisspipebomb

@zuuriell

@crowdsourcedgender - you are doing such a good job. Keep it up! Thank you for always being a great help.

@candy8448

@baking-potato-27

@bhawk-goose - ur so funny hehehe

@banethebloodgoat

@night-rhea

@treion-is-back - I still remember you. Good luck.

@allknowingbirb

@i-am-an-arson-enthusiast

@spacewives-in-spacetime

@queen-mihai

@a-random-mooshroom - YOOOOO you were so fun to interact with!! All the best!!

@bibirb - thanks for supporting my Yellow Dog account and being one of the first followers!

@pronouncounter - count those pronouns

@pronoun-checks - keep it up!

@ghostsofchernobyl

@that-bisexual

@slender-genderfluid - okay, I have no relation to you but I think you're cool

@hijkay

@artistic-scribbles

@frogofalltime

@thegeniusidiotnstickmerchant3728 - you are so cool and so nerdy and SO WERID I am obssesed with you and I need to study you in the laboratory or put you in a maze with traps idk I will miss you sm

And many more! I'm sure I haven't tagged everyone and I'm sorry if I missed somebody :c I appreciate you regardless!!

Goodbye! May the gender euphoria be upon ya!

[xiaq]

AO3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2

Pt. 3 I combined the prompts: Outsider POV, Steve Harrington is an Idiot (affectionate), Everyone is Queer Because I Said So, and @c0olness's hyper-specific Wayne's Boyfriend Owns a Gay Bar in Indianapolis and Introduces Steve to a Drag Queen. :)

Angel Reyes has loved Wayne Munson about as long as he’s loved himself. The timing is not coincidental.

Which is why he’s willing to wait for him, even when Angel’s patience is worn thin like the shirt he stole from Wayne three years ago and wears like a prayer to bed.

Some nights, when Wayne calls at the end of his shift and Angel is wiping down his own bar at closing, he’s tempted to say: we might not have much time left—shouldn’t we spend what we do have together?

But he doesn’t.

Because he already knows the answer.

Because the same reason he fell in love with Wayne is the reason Wayne won’t move to Indy. The man is loyal to a fault and when he gives himself to people he gives all of himself and there’s no force in the world that would convince Wayne to leave Hawkins if he thought Eddie still needed him there. Because Wayne loves Angel. But Wayne loved Eddie first. And Angel can hardly begrudge him of that.

So he repeats a well-worn mantra, only slightly comforting: not today, but someday. And he hangs up the phone and he checks the calendar and he looks forward to the time he is allowed. If there’s one thing he learned over the years, it’s that he can’t get greedy when he already has a good thing.

Wayne is worth the quiet agony of patience.

So when he’s locking up for the night and the phone rings, he expects the conversation to take a familiar path. 

“Evening, handsome,” he says, canting his hip against the counter. “You tell him yet?”

It’s been his standard greeting for close to a year. Why the man won’t just tell his gay nephew that he is, conveniently, also gay, is beyond Angel. But then, listening has always been Wayne’s strong suit. Talking, not so much.

“Well,” Wayne says. And that’s new.

“Well?”

“I did, actually. After I walked in on him and Steve kissin’ last night—“

“Finally!” Angel crows. The saga of Eddie and Steve and their will-they-won’t-they relationship had quickly surpassed even his favorite telenovela’s dramatic storylines. The pretty jock with hidden depths and the nerdy metalhead falling in love? Hospital vigils? Protracted pining while sharing a bed? Impeccable. 

“They’re together now,” Wayne finishes.

“Darling,” Angel says, not for the first time, “I’d like to remind you that you are not paying per word for this call.”

Wayne huffs at him, also not for the first time.

“Steve didn’t know liking both boys and girls meant he was bisexual. He thought there was some sort of…threshold he needed to pass to be queer enough to date a man. I suppose Robin set him straight––or, not so straight as the case may be––” he chuckles a little at his own joke, “And he came over to declare his love as soon as his shift ended.”

Angel takes a moment to digest that. “...Maybe they use Eddie as the sperm donor if they want kids,”  he suggests.

“Ease up, it’s not like they teach this shit in school. Bet I’d been a lot more confused too if I had the luxury of liking both.”

“Alright, I won’t pick on your future son-in-law, promise.”

“ Speaking of school,” Wayne says, sidestepping his implication. “Eddie got his diploma in the mail yesterday.”

“You going to do something to celebrate?”

“Actually, we thought we’d take a trip to Indy this weekend.”

Angel twists the phone’s cord around his finger. “…you’re supposed to come next weekend.”

“So you’d have to see me two weeks in a row, if you can bear it.”

“A trial, to be sure. When you say…” he pauses, trying to figure out how to clarify without breaking his own heart. “When you come this weekend. Would you want us—would you want me. To meet them?”

He closes his eyes and bangs a fist against his forehead because that is not the safe way to ask that question. 

“It'd be pretty weird if they didn’t meet the person hosting them.”

“Oh, I see. You’re just using me for my five star accommodations,” he says, because he’s apparently determined to dig his own grave.

“No. Wayne says, “those are nice. But mostly I just want to introduce them to my boyfriend.”

“Ah.”

“And saying shit like that makes me think you’re trying to compete with Steve in the stupid Olympics.”

Angel makes an outraged noise but Wayne talks over him which is unique enough an occurrence that Angel lets him get away with it.

“See,” Wayne says. “The boys have decided they don’t want to stay in Hawkins long-term. They figure they’ll stay another year. Save some money. Make sure the kids are settled. And then Eddie’s set on New York or California and I think Steve’s just set on Eddie, wherever he is. I thought we could at least make a case for Indy, though. ‘Cause if Eddie isn’t staying in Hawkins, I’ve got no reason to.”

“Ah,” Angel says again. “And you don’t have any interest in New York or California?”

“I sure don’t,” Wayne says levelly.

“Well,” he clears his throat. “I’ll mop the floors and clean the windows. Give them the best showing I can. Should we plan to take them to one of the…heavier… music venues? I can probably have Frank cover for me, I’d just need to ask him now.”

“Nah. I figure I’ll help you out Saturday night and let them explore on their own. Eddie’s already making a list of options. But Friday is drag night at your place, right?”

“It is.”

“We should start them with that, I think.”

Angel grins. “Their debut in queer society shall be heralded by Dolly Parton and glitter.”

“Mm.” 

Angel is familiar enough with Wayne’s thoughtful noises to know that he’s smiling.

“Enough about my boys,” Wayne says. “Tell me about your day.”

Angel does.

When Angel hangs up ten minutes later, for once, he’s grinning. He thinks, as usual, not today but someday. Only ‘someday’ suddenly feels tangible in a way it never has before.

***

Eddie Munson is exactly what Angel expected him to be when he comes tumbling out the driver’s side door of the van parked half on Angel’s driveway and half on his lawn. Angel has been hearing about him through the rosy lens of Wayne’s affection for close to five years and as a result, Angel loves him immediately upon first sight. 

Then again, he’d be difficult not to love. Eddie is a bright, frenetic, presence, all hair and chains and affected airs, who shares Wayne's smile, though he dispenses smiles much more freely than his uncle. He is unashamedly himself as he shakes Angel’s hand, tells his uncle he approves, and then asks for a tour of the house.

Steve Harrington is somehow simultaneously exactly and nothing like Angel expected.

Exactly, because he looks the part: a cropped Hawkins Varsity Basketball sweatshirt, tiny athletic shorts, and the well-built frame of someone who regularly works out. His hair is verging on ridiculous. His face is…well-suited to the body, he’ll say.

But the kid also has a hyper-awareness to him, a quick-eyed, assessing, vigilant posture, that Angel has only ever seen in war vets twice the kid’s age. He puts his back to a room’s farthest corner. He keeps doorways in sight. And he constantly, constantly, orbits Eddie like the world's most unsubtle protective detail. 

There are also the scars. Terrible, still-healing, scars. On one exposed thigh, the side of his neck, and his right forearm. On the slice of skin between his waistband and the frayed cut-off hem of his sweater. He wears them unapologetically, with the composure of someone who is neither proud nor embarrassed by them.  

Angel suspects, only a few minutes into their first meeting, that Eddie may have similar scars beneath his torn jeans and bleach-speckled band shirt. One of his arms has some sort of medical sleeve on it—the pale fabric covered in black bleed-fuzzy Sharpie drawings of bats. Angel considers the mangled half-moon-shaped lines decorating Steve’s thigh. Unless earthquakes have suddenly developed teeth, Wayne has clearly been editing his stories. 

But despite their significant aesthetic differences, the two boys are well-suited, if painfully young and unpracticed in the art of subtlety. They touch each other constantly; unthinkingly. Hands. Hips. Shoulders. Elbows. And the way they look at each other—well. They’ll need to work on that if they don’t want to accumulate more scars. Granted, they hardly have to hide their relationship in the sanctuary of his home, but he gets the feeling they don’t know how to be any other way with each other. 

It’s both sweet and more than a little heartbreaking.

“So,” he says, “ I need to get back to the bar before the opening act at 8. It’s drag night.”

“Robin is going to be furious she didn’t come,” Steve says.

“We’ll bring her next time,” Eddie says. 

They go.

***

Angel’s bar is called Innuendo. 

He can’t take credit for the name, but he can take credit for the atmosphere. It’d been a dark, sticky, hole-in-the-wall when he started working there at 21. When he’d bought it from the former owner a decade later, he’d cleaned it up, regulated the jukebox hours, and started live music, drag, and deejay nights. A few years after that, in 1984, when the mayor issued a proclamation declaring the new city policy to no longer discriminate against queers, he’d taken the boards down from all the windows. 

It’s still dark in the back where the stage and dance floor are tucked away, but the front windows with a clear view of the street are big and unashamed. He keeps the windows clean.

There’s a copy of the proclamation framed above them, along with pictures of Angel and noteworthy patrons of the establishment over the years: Wakefield Poole; Tom Higgins; Bayard Rustin; Freddie Mercury, and Jim Hutton. 

A lot has changed in the last two decades that he’s worked there, but some things, like the old oak-wood bar where all the pictures were taken, stay the same.

He brings Wayne and the boys in through the back to scattered shouts of hello from regulars. He and Wayne slide behind the bar to start helping Frank, and the boys sit on stools with wide eyes.

It’s nice, to see the place from their perspective. The magic of it is never lost on him, but sometimes he does forget exactly how magic it is: a bar that looks like most other bars but where men look and touch and kiss without concern, where there’s art and magazines and conversations that wouldn’t be permitted by common society a scant few feet outside the door.

After fifteen minutes, they get brave enough to explore—admiring the posters on the opposite wall: Bijou and Boys in the Sand; Passing Strangers, Forbidden Letters, and A Night at the Adonis.

They play a round of darts near the front windows, the boards covered in shitty black-and-white copies of Anita Bryant’s face.

They sit at a table near the stage when the show starts. They pull their chairs together. They hold hands on the tabletop. They laugh and shout and sing along and kiss when invited.

After, when they’re back at the bar, flushed with alcohol and the subtle worldview shift that Angel remembers well from his first visit to a gay bar, a few of the queens come over to introduce themselves. Leslie, currently in her Cher era, steps up to the bar, accepts her drink from Wayne with a wink, and gives Steve a clear once-over.

“Aren't you out a little late for a school night, baby?" she says in her customary baritone.

“Uh, no ma’am. I graduated last year. Sorry. Sir?”

"Sugar, do I look like a ‘sir’ to you?"

“Take it easy on him, Les,” Angel calls. “He’s new.”

“No kidding.” She purses her lips at him. “Ma’am is fine unless you meet me on the street. But here I’d prefer ‘honey. Or ‘darling.”

Steve swallows. “I promised I’d reserve pet names for my boyfriend. So. I’ll stick with Ma’am.”

“Well aren’t you a charmer. And where is this boyfriend?”

“Hi,” Eddie says.

She gives him an equally critical once-over.

“Do you know what that color bandana means in that pocket?”

Eddie glances down at his back left pocket; at the black bandana hanging against his thigh.

“Ah...that I’m into S&M but that I like to be the  submission one? Like the one getting tied up?”

“You what?” Steve says.

Angel notices that Wayne has made a hasty exit to the bathroom, which is probably for the best.

“Oh my sweet summer child,” Leslie says, “it means the opposite on that side, so maybe switch pockets.” She considers Steve’s pink face. “And also maybe talk to your boyfriend. The whole point of flagging is to find someone to meet your needs and you've got a pretty one right here who seems like he’s awfully willing.”

Steve pulls the bandana out of Eddie’s pocket and, using his teeth, tidily rips it into two. He tucks one half in Eddie’s right back pocket. He tucks the other in his left. He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow like he's expecting Eddie to argue. Eddie does not argue. Eddie doesn't do much of anything except stare at him with wide, hungry eyes.

“Well,” Leslie says, sounding pleased, “My work here is done. Honestly, kids these days.”

She gives Steve a little pat on the shoulder as she pushes back into the crowd. “I’d dance while you have the chance, boys. Life is short and sometimes so is love. Capitalize on that shit!”

“Do you want to dance?” Steve asks.

Eddie is still watching Leslie with a bemused smile. “I don’t know how to dance to this music.”

“Well I won’t know how to dance to yours tomorrow, but I’m planning to let you show me.”

“Fair enough, King Steve." Eddie affects a curtsy, offering Steve his hand. “I suppose I can allow you to take me for a turn about the dance floor, good sir.”

Steve bows low over Eddie’s hand, pressing his lips to his knuckles, looking up at him with a grin. “An honor,” he says solemnly, and then drags Eddie, laughing, into the throng of moving bodies.

***

The next morning, Angel wakes up early for no reason he can determine. He’s not good at sitting idle, and he doesn’t want his fidgeting to wake Wayne, so he elects to take his book to the garden. Only, as he slips into the hall, careful with the door behind him, he can hear the quiet, indistinct lull of voices in the kitchen.

Angel moves down the hall on sock feet, avoiding the creaky bit of flooring where the original foundation meets the master addition he added four years back. 

The boys have opened the double doors to the patio and Steve is leaning against the jam on one side, coffee cup in hand, looking out at the garden. He’s shirtless, wearing only the shorts from the day before. Warm, tree-diluted, sunrise rays cast him in sepia, making the scars that traverse his flank to his thigh look less gruesome and more artistic. Poetic. He knows more than one photographer who would kill for a shot like this. Something about the coexistence of beauty and pain. Something about a commentary on perceptions of strength; the allure of imperfection resulting from battles survived.

Eddie joins Steve, sliding under his open arm like a habit, dragging a hand down Steve’s side to cup the puckered line of recently-stitched skin at Steve’s hip. 

Eddie is also shirtless—wearing jeans and a riot of bed head that Steve presses his face into, murmuring something low and clearly funny by the stifled laughter it produces. 

Angel wasn't wrong with his initial assumption: Eddie’s back is littered with shallow scars as well, but he also has a fair amount of tattoos, which makes the other marks less incongruous. There’s something about Steve’s otherwise flawless skin and sculpted muscles that make his injuries feel more visceral.

Or, at least, that’s what he thinks until Steve suddenly looks behind him, like he has a preternatural awareness that he’s being watched.

“Oh,” he says, “Good morning.”

Both boys turn to face him. 

And Angel realizes that Steve’s injuries pale in comparison to Eddie’s.

Because Eddie’s chest and belly is a brutal mess of scar tissue.

It looks like something tried to gut him.

It looks like whatever it was probably succeeded.

He knows he’s staring but he can’t seem to stop himself until Steve slides a proprietary hand over the worst of it, spread fingers against what has to still be an agony of healing skin.

He meets Angel's eyes and all but dares him to say anything.

“I think,” Angel says, turning abruptly to enter the kitchen, “the occasion calls for french toast. Thoughts?”

“The occasion?” Eddie asks.

His hand covers Steve’s and presses, not a dismissal but an invitation to linger. 

“Your diploma,” Angel says, “Steve’s first time making a fool of himself in front of a drag queen. Whatever excuse is sufficient for the making of said french toast.”

“See, we’re sort of trying out this new thing lately,” Eddie murmurs, looking at Steve, “where we don’t need excuses for things that make us happy.”

“No guilt in our pleasures,” Steve agrees, voice soft, expression reverent. He tucks an errant curl behind Eddie’s ear.

Angel resists the urge to sigh at them. Instead, he toasts them with a carton of eggs. “French toast for the pleasure of french toast, then. You two go sit on the bench in the garden. The sun should be hitting it right about now and that is surely a pleasurable experience. I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”

Steve meets his eyes again, this time less challenging, more thankful. 

His hand slides from Eddie’s belly to the small of his back, pushing him out onto the patio.

“That sounds nice,” he says.

And they go.

When Wayne shuffles out to join Angel at the stove ten minutes later, the bread is sizzling in the skillet. 

They take their time washing the egg bowl and whisk in the sink, elbow to elbow, two men sharing space for a one-man job.

They lean into each other, considering Eddie and Steve, similarly leaned into each other, on the bench under the oak tree outside.

“You think I should talk to them?” Wayne murmurs. “About the way they look at each other. And touch each other. And how they need to cut that shit out if they’re in public?”

“Probably,” Angel sighs. “But not today.”

“No,” Wayne agrees after a moment of silence. He presses a kiss to Angel’s temple. “Not today.”

Pt. 4 (Will's POV)

[spockandstars]

I think that a lot of people take issue with the way the Spock/Chapel/T'Pring love triangle is presented in Strange New Worlds, but that sometimes this is dismissed as fans just being bitter spirk shippers. So here are a few reasons why I believe people are iffy on this plotline. (Disregarding the fact that we're disappointed that the showrunners didn't, and most likely won't, take the chance to do something really cool with Spock's legacy as a queer coded character...)

Firstly, it takes time away from other characters to address an element of Spock's story that has already been explored beautifully. (I will get into how this treats Chapel and T'Pring later...) Spock's struggle with his humanity and his anguish over the depth of his feelings for others (particularly Jim) is a focus in TOS and the movies, and if you're going to keep on talking about it, at least do it in a more creative way? This isn't to say that it shouldn't be acknowledged at all, seeing that it is a lifelong struggle for him, but by making it such a focus of the series they're not giving other interesting characters as much of a chance to develop.

Additionally, it has traditionally been understood that Spock coped with his inner turmoil by repressing his feelings. Over the course of his lifetime, he learns to embrace his human side more to become a more balanced and healthy person. SNW takes the approach of "young Spock was more human and horny!" which isn't necessarily bad, but they better be giving us an explanation for how he transforms so dramatically to the extremely repressed character he is in TOS. Maybe this is reaching too far, but this whole approach of young Spock just feels like an excuse to get hot ladies into his bed and to fulfill the fantasies of nerdy men who project onto him. This is the same Spock who scoffed at the idea of going to see dancers at a bar, who was immune to the charms of the sexy ladies in Mudd's Women, who only entertained women when drugged or when he needed to do so for a mission...

Furthermore, I believe it's a disservice to Chapel. On one hand, it does make her love for Spock seem more grounded in reality, which I appreciate. In TOS, it's pretty clear that Spock doesn't share her feelings and her crush is only really ever used as a means of ridiculing her. There goes silly Chapel again, trying to win over her unrequited love! It's not cool. But on the same token, making Spock the focus of her character yet again only further reduces her to nothing but that. Why can't we let the girl breathe and do other stuff? Sure, she does get some of the AOS Uhura treatment where she gets to be a generic cool badass lady, but this is in a way that is lacking in any real depth. Chapel deserves better.

I also don't love the way it treats T'Pring. Was it really necessary for her to be Spock's eye candy wife that he gets to bang and cheat on? In Amok Time, it's heavily implied that this was an arranged thing and that they hadn't seen each other since they were seven. If they really felt the need to include this relationship, it would have been so much cooler if they had explored it from that angle, with neither of them truly wanting to be together but being forced into it by societal expectation. Which of course, results in T'Pring using her intelligence to gain her freedom in Amok Time.

So yeah. Those are my main gripes with this whole thing. Overall, I think it's lazy writing that allows the writers to benefit from the nostalgia of legacy characters without developing them in actually meaningful or revolutionary ways.

[canmom]

reading Brainwyrms by Alison Rumfitt. it's interesting. clearly part of the post-Topside wave of trans lit, with the same 'plugged in to twitter' energy, but way more British about it. which means most of the allusions are very transparent to me. it's a combo of... hardcore kink driven romance as the main arc, in a near-future setting in which TERFism goes further to the point of outright bombings, and a scifi element with alien brain parasites that it's gradually building towards.

compellingly written, I'll give it that for sure - I lay down to read for a bit and before I knew it I'd read like a third of the book. the main character's disaffected, traumatised air is well observed, and the kink doesn't hold back.

I think my reservation with it so far is that it feels a little too much like a polemic blog post about the way things are going. the MC Frankie is a trans woman with a pregnancy kink who survived a bombing at a GIC and now works in social media moderation - it's all stuff that is blatantly Relevant To The Argument, as it were. it's tricky to criticise it for that because it's like, what you're saying is that it's tightly constructed and thematically consistent and that's bad somehow? but I think I've come to feel that I like fiction to bring me something a little new and unfamiliar.

the chapter I most enjoyed so far was actually a more metaphorical, abstract interlude, in which resistance to fascism is cast as becoming 'one mass of queer flesh, which now grabbed and clawed...'; 'faces locked in kisses until they became one face. the cops would try to pull at this mass, but to no avail'. very 'faggots and their friends between revolutions' stuff.

the chapters which are presented directly as social media posts and articles are also sharply observed. i think a lot of fiction in which the internet features heavily suffers from not understanding the internet very well (Hosoda's Belle for example), but for example the chapter 'Curious Cat' where an anonymous person (blatantly Vanya) is sending messages asking for help with a parasite, and getting rebuffed or misunderstood, and the chapter where Frankie relates a murder of an instagram model by a stalker who posts about it to a reddit community devoted to her, read as very real.

a lot of the story is about responding to a terrifying political situation in sexual terms - a flashback chapter depicting Frankie having sex with some terf's pretentious brother ("with each thrust from him, she thought to herself, I am a traitor, I am a traitor to the cause"), or the preface which jokes about how in another world the author would be writing 'cool horror stories about vampires raping werewolves, ones with no subtext at all'. I prevaricate a little on whether this is a compelling examination of a theme that I do find interesting (the mysterious origins of sexual desire) or just edgy for its own sake.

this is an odd novel for me in some ways because while on one level, this is about people who I could very easily be a single degree of separation from were they real, it's also about a facet of life that is still quite alien to me and in many ways I only know about second hand. I've never been to a kink club (that wasn't in an MMO anyway lol), I'm way too much of a nerdy autist shut-in to know what it's like to be someone who would feel put out if she hadn't had sex in a week. so even before the parasite stuff, it's hard to know how much of Frankie and Vanya's stuff is real, and how much is fantasy. is this really how things go between people? it sounds kinda fun, but unlocking the door this far has already taken years.

when I've read books about the crazy lives that American trans girls supposedly live and interesting sex they're apparently having, they've been at a certain remove, the other side of the Atlantic. and this book feels sort of similar, even though I know it's set right on my doorstep. idk, I've never been good at this.

anyway I don't think I want to write fantasy novels so directly about The Discourse of the day, but it's probably good that someone is. that said, it's hard to parse like... ok, it's titled brainwyrms, and 'brain worms' is a common way of describing an obsessive, cultish idea you receive from the internet.

and like if you look at the newspapers, or twitter trans discourse, you certainly could believe that this country is on a rapid slide to putting us in camps. however, my day to day life has been... it's not without hostility, but the average street harasser isn't doing it because of a Guardian or even Mail article. this country has a subculture of deranged weirdos who hate our guts, and a political class who will happily stoke culture war shit to score points, but most normies I've met don't care one way or another that I'm trans - they might mention a family member or friend they know who's also trans. the day to day conflicts are over way more prosaic shit, the landlord vs tenant forever war, or how the kitchen should be cleaned. which of these windows is more informative of the 'overall' state of affairs? not that a more violent terf cult is a bad premise to write a novel around, but a sense of impending doom is a pretty powerful mechanism to keep you scrolling, right?

like in 20, 40 years - will the terfs really be bombing the Tavistock and banning transness, as Rumfitt imagines in her near-future setting preface? or will they go the way of those newspapers in Thatcher's time who smeared the gay movement, just as they smear us today? of passing political obsessions like 'new atheism'? I don't know the half-life of cult shit.

anyway, time to read the rest of the novel, and see how it handles this brew that it's concocted.

[deaddovedecadence]

Cassandra cain x male reader headcanons?

Ooh so I’m not going to lie, I’m transmasc so this might be a little trans masc coded but i’ll try and be neutral about it!

First Meeting

honestly there are two ways I could see this going

Nerdy Reader

the two of you meet at a cafe, she’s struggling to order because none of her siblings are here and she’s so tired and doesnt want to be here but she needs to order for her family. you sign to her, asking if she wants help and you rely the order for her.

buys you coffee and gives you like a hundred bucks

does not understand that you are just being kind so you ask if she’d like to study with you as repayment instead.

she accepts and the two of you start meeting for regular study dates

decides by time three that you are going to be hers

Fighter Reader

the two of you meet at a queer friendly gym when she’s looking for a spare you’re looking for someone to help you continue to get stronger. She learns that day that she really likes putting pretty boys on their asses.

You ask if she’d be willing to train you and offer her money to do it. She realizes that you are being completely genuine and you do not know who she is.

Thinks it’s so cute

the two of you meet for months before she decides that she wants to date you and tells you very firmly that the two of you are dating now.

Very used to her and her odd ways, you accept

First Date

Nerdy Reader

at the same cafe you met her out. She asked her brothers for advice and they all agreed that peace was best on a first date unless they are also a vigilante. Tim, the only person dating a civilian and a superhero says that peace really is for the best sometimes (she does go to duke for confirmation)

Dresses in something very pretty, and when she sees you, does in fact go bright pink. Doesn’t know how to handle the sheer love she has for you

The two of you just talk and talk and talk. Thinks that you are the sweetest thing in the history of the world and really considers just taking you.

Fighter Reader

she takes you to a ufc fight and points out everything that the fighters are doing wrong.

Spends her time watching you watch the fights and thinks that you’re so cute when you’re enthralled

Ends up punching a girl for getting to close to you. this has happened before so you aren’t really that bothered by it even though you wish that she wouldn’t get so violent with people that are no where near a threat to her

In her mind they are threats, threats to her boyfriend

What she loves about you

in all of my au’s cass loves that you love her for her and not for everything she can do. All you know is that she’s strong, powerful and willing to do anything for the people that she loves. That’s all the matters to you, and you don’t care about her wealth, because in the end, she’s your cass and you’re her boyfriend

How is she a yandere?

Nerdy reader

will do anything except kill for you including kidnap you. You’re just so delicate compared to her and she just needs to protect you

leaves hicks’s all over you once she understands the technique

wants to carve her name onto you so that people will leave you the fuck alone. the only person you need is her okay, and maybe one day her family

Fighter Reader

it’s a little better with this type of reader because you can fight, can take care of yourself and she likes that

still leaves hickies everywhere and she smiles so hard when you go shirtless, exposing all of the marks she’s given you even if she does have to ward people away from you

still wants to leave her name on you but gets you to agree to a c.c tattoo on your wrist!

[lordystrange]

10 best byler proofs by me

10. The cast, especially David (who knows the ending) and Finn (who might know something), are always so happy talking about Byler. They wouldn’t be if Will ended up dying alone as a sad gay. Also no one likes milkvan except maybe Millie unless she’s acting… Caleb even said ”Lucas and Max’s love is real unlike Milkvan’s”.

9. Mike has been queercoded throughout the whole series. Especially with queer colors, he spent s4 dressed as a gay pride flag. Also bi and pan colors are associated with him. Also Ted’s ”our son with a girl?” and everything Eddie said about forced conformity etc

8. Byler parallelling other romantic ships like Jancy, Jopper and Lumax. I’m not listing examples because there are SO MANY! (Also Milkvan parallelling all the platonic/dead ships)

7. Mileven being bones. We have nothing that shows their actual, deep love they’re ”supposed to have”. We don’t know what Mike loves about El and what El loves about Mike. We don’t know what makes them a compatible match romantically. We only know things that don’t make them compatible: El feeling the need to lie to Mike, Mike feeling embarrassed of his nerdy self with El, El feeling unloved by Mike, Mike feeling inferior to El…

6. The desert scenes. The triple take ofc, but also the car roof top convo with Will (jancy parallell). Will is talking about how it’s scary to say how you really feel because what if they don’t like the truth. And Mike NODS. If the truth was that he loved El exactly like El wanted, El would like that truth. So what is the truth Mike is worried that El doesn’t like…?

5. Mike’s monologue. He had to be pushed by Will to open his mouth. He lied about him loving her at first sight. He copied the t-shirt part from Eddie. He kept saying she’s his superhero which El doesn’t wanna be. He didn’t include anything personal about El and their relationship after the t-shirt thing… Also El didn’t seem to like what she heard and their love didn’t save the world. And they didn’t even talk after it. And while filming it they didn’t focus on just the couple (like they did with byler in s2 shed scene) and they let Finn improvise as if it wasn’t that important (as important as the van scene…)

4. Mike would be so poorly written if he wasn’t into Will and I don’t think the Duffers would just ignore his character. Also all the lip glances and heart eyes wouldn’t make sense.

3. Byler/Milkvan contrast. When Will was gone and they found his ”body”, Mike heard Will breathing in a radio channel and believed he was alive. He didn’t rest for a second, he did everything he could to find him. When he thought El was dead, he didn’t go looking for her, even tho a couple times he actually saw her. Also in s3 when Milkvan had a fight, Max said Mike will be crawling back to her begging for forgiveness in no time. Instead Mike laid on a sofa and ate and complained. When Byler had a fight… well we all know what Mike did then.

2. Mike and Will’s relationship has always been different from other friendships. They’ve said it themselves (”pls don’t tell the others, they wouldn’t understand”, ”Hawkins is not the same without you”, ”you make her me feel better for being different”). Also their scenes together have always been a big deal (van scene took an entire day to film, crazy together was written before s1 was even filmed) and they are shot in a really romantic way (music, lighting…)

1. In the beginning of s3, Will said to Joyce that he’s not gonna fall in love. That made his arc about romance. We know now that he already fell in love, but he doesn’t believe it’s requited. If s5 goes from ”i don’t think he loves me back” to ”he doesn’t love me back” we get literally nowhere and the entire storyline (since s1) would be useless and waste of time and money. They wouldn’t make Will suffer 4 seasons and then suffer some more. So believe me when I say it goes ”I don’t think he loves me back” to ”He does love me back!”

I wish you all a very merry byler endgame in s5! 💚