#stranger supporting strangers

[cheesecaketyrant]

Late night or early thinking?

Idk just something i want to point out is that im

Nonbinary and asexual

I go by the/them he/him pronouns

I'm a parent and I'm 32 yo.

I just wanted to let people know that it's ok if you're still trying to figure out who you are it doesn't have to be today when you figure it out or this year even. Just know I'm supporting you with ever you are trying to figure out

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

“Wait, so you’re telling me that I have fans? I’m not even famous— I’m so confused, baby.” Steve looks up at Eddie with scrunched eyebrows. He is currently making a demo project to show his kindergarteners for their art activity on the first day of school and multitasking is not something that Steve can handle at the moment. “I mean, I’m your boyfriend who was in the back of one tik-tak—”

“It’s TikTok, babe—”

“Whatever. Can you make them stop?”

Eddie sits down across from Steve. “Stop what, baby?”

“Stop them from making edits of me!” Steve is exasperated in a silly way, slamming his paintbrush into the cup of murky water next to him. “Robin keeps sending them to me and it’s just the same clips of me setting up my pump. Apparently my ‘arms are sexy??’”

“Your arms are very sexy, my love.” Eddie pauses. He moves to sit next to Steve and turns Steve’s chair to face him, cradling his face in his palms. “I’m not sure I can stop a bunch of people from making those videos, but maybe we can make a video together where you explain what diabetes is?”

Steve seems to question it at first, but then he starts to smile and nods his head. “That sounds like a really good idea, babe! You’re so smart. I love you.” Steve leans forward and kisses him.

“I love you, too.”

They sit in comfortable silence before Eddie’s phone beeps with the dexcom notification saying that Steve is either too low or too high. He quickly checks it while Steve ignores it and his eyes almost bulge out of his head.

Eddie stands quickly and grabs an apple juice from the fridge. “Drink this, Steve. You’re at 72.” He uncaps the drink and slides it over to Steve.

“You’re the best, you know that, right?” Steve says after a sip of his juice.

Eddie just smiles, the fondness seeping from the crinkles by his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Steve’s been running a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth in front of the stove for almost ten minutes. She’s told him over and over to be confident, that he’s got nothing to lose and everything to gain. But he’s still nervous. And to be fair, she can’t hold it against him. It took her ages to ask Nancy out.

“I don’t know, Robs,” Steve sighs, “are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes, Dingus, he likes you. Eddie never pulls the tips of my hair or holds my hand or leans on my shoulder. Because people only do that if they’re interested in someone. Right?” Her cheeks twitch under the strain of her reassuring smile.

“Yeah…?” He shines with guarded hope.

Robin can’t help but ask, for what has to be the millionth time, “have you at least told him you’re bisexual?”

Steve’s eyes dim again and it’s all the answer she needs. Honestly, he’s doing a hell of a lot better than she expected. He’s told a few people so far– as practice, Rob, with the easy people– including her and Nancy, Dustin, Max and Lucas. It might have been practice to start, but now he’s just stalling the inevitable. And they both know it.

“Let’s go back out there,” Robin encourages. She throws her arm over his broad shoulders, highlighted by the plain indigo t-shirt that’s on the right side of too small. They’d picked it out together: something dark and tight for Eddie, yet something still classically Steve. 

He nods as she hauls him back towards the living room, two cold six packs in their hands. The group’s Saturday movie night tradition at Steve’s had been going well so far. After a few joints, Argyle suggested a drinking game, hence the beers. Eddie, Steve, and Robin were quick to jump on the bandwagon, leaving Nancy and Jonathan as sober cabs for Robin and Argyle, who’d just rented a new apartment in town.

Eddie, very pointedly, hadn’t committed to how his night would end. Robin snorted when his eyes darted to Steve to gauge his reaction as they coordinated cars, even though her poor best friend was completely oblivious to Eddie’s blush.

Steve’d been in the middle of ordering pizza when he’d overheard their planning and almost dropped the phone, bulldozing their conversation to shout, “Teddy, why don’t you just spend the night, since your van is back at your– oh, hi yeah can we get one large–” and Eddie sagged in relief. 

Robin loves them, but my god are they actual idiots. Even Nancy couldn’t help but giggle at their antics, Eddie smacking her lightly on the arm in protest of her teasing. The two have become increasingly close since Eddie’s two month stint in the hospital recovering from demon bat rabies. Not rabies, Robin! Just a normal infection.

It was a shock at first, to find Eddie and Nancy spending time together away from everyone else. They just didn’t seem to fit together, from the outside looking in. But much like Steve and Robin, all you had to do was look past the surface.

Which means if Robin can successfully set up Steve and Eddie, they’ll create the perfect little quad. Sometimes she gets caught up imagining their double dates, if onlookers would be surprised to find Robin on Steve’s arm and Nancy on Eddie’s, and not the other way around.

They’d be able to go on actual dates in public. She could hold Nancy’s hand under the table and lean her head on Steve’s shoulder. He’d give her a light kiss on the forehead while playing footsie with Eddie. Then Robin would go home with Nancy and fall asleep wrapped up in each other like a dream.

It’s the perfect plan. Or at least, it would be if the boys could just take their heads out of their asses. 

So as the six of them lazed around all day, Robin and Nancy made sure Steve and Eddie were always next to each other; although, they really didn’t have to try that hard. The boys reflexively sought each other out, eyes catching from across the room, or shoulders brushing sitting side by side. 

They were the only two who shared a joint, even though Argyle had plenty to pass around. Steve whined about his low tolerance, how he didn’t need a full one, only for Eddie to fall over himself– literally, with how fast he turned to face him, almost smacking Steve in the head– to offer his own to share.

So when they walk back into the room and something feels just slightly off, Robin briefly wonders if her own smoke was stronger than normal, even though she’d only felt a slight buzz. That maybe, hopefully, this is some awful hallucination and the joints were laced with acid.

Argyle’s sitting on the sofa next to Jonathan right where they’d left him, now lazed over the arm and lightly snoring with his feet curled up underneath him like a giant cat. Eddie’s still sitting on the floor next to Jon’s legs, an open space to his right where Steve had been sitting only minutes ago. Except there’s something different with Nancy. 

Nancy had been sitting in the chair across from Argyle earlier, complaining about Robin’s bony ass digging into her leg but refusing to let her up. Now she’s standing by the opening of the hallway, almost like she was waiting for them to come back. She's biting her lip, eyes wide, ringing her hands in front of her like she doesn’t know what to do with them.

Robin moves towards her, anxious to know what’s got her so upset. She notices Nancy’s eyes flitting between Steve and the boys, so Robin follows her gaze.

Jon’s bent forward, leaning down over Eddie like they're sharing a secret. His hand cradles Eddie’s cheek, and Robin can see the moment Eddie fits himself between Jon’s legs. Eddie cranes his neck as he turns to face him. It’s uncoordinated roaming hands and sloppy lips, too much tongue– and the sounds. Wet, slurping and sucking she’ll never be able to unhear, obnoxiously loud and seared into her brain.

They're kissing.

Robin’s going to throw up. She’s died, this must be hell. No wonder why Nance looks so freaked out. None of them knew about Jonathan. Sure, they all wondered if he and Argyle had something going on, but no one pried, and the two had never said anything. Objectively, Robin knows this wouldn’t bother Nancy. She and Jonathan dated almost three years ago, they’ve both moved on and are good friends at this point. So why would she–

Jonathan opens his eyes to find them watching. They crinkle around a smile as he looks behind her and tugs on Eddie’s curls. Without breaking eye contact, he shoves his tongue deep into Eddie’s mouth, who then moans in response. Robin’s not sure if Eddie knows they’re in the room, but Jonathan sure as hell does. 

It takes her too long to put it together, to realize Jonathan’s not looking at her or Nancy. There’s a small whimper behind her where his gaze is locked and he smiles again, triumphant.

Robin rounds on Steve, who’s frozen to the spot. All the blood’s drained from his face, leaving him pale and sickly looking like he could pass out any second. He isn’t blinking. He’s staring and staring and staring, completely enraptured by the scene unfolding before them. 

She bodily moves herself in front of him, thankful more than she’s ever been that he’s a little short for a boy and she’s a little tall for a girl. He won’t look at her, he can’t see her standing right in front of him, his eyes a million miles away. She grabs both of his hands and digs her nails into the meat of his palms.

His eyes finally snap to hers, and she almost wishes they hadn’t. Steve’s hands practically vibrate within her own, matching the wobbling of his lip and the shimmering on his lash line. 

“Robs,” Steve croaks, the rest of his thought lodged in his throat.

There’s nothing she can do as she watches Steve’s heart shatter in real time, cracked down the center like it was struck with a bolt of lightning. 

“Steve,” Eddie calls out in concern, “are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Robin turns around to face him, keeping her place in front of Steve like a shield. She catches the downcast of Jonathan’s eyes as his hand threads through the ends of Eddie’s hair, lips still loose and open waiting for the next kiss. But now Eddie’s pushing himself up from the floor, brows drawn tight together, fixated on Steve like he’s the only boy in the room.

Except she’s seen him look at Steve that way a thousand times in the months since they barely survived hell together. Eddie looked at Steve with stars in his eyes, like he was the man of his dreams. How he would grow wider and taller and louder if Steve kept laughing until he’d snort. A sound Eddie fucking loved. She’d watch Eddie take care of Steve during migraines, scrape his fingernails down his scalp until Steve fell asleep, head cradled in Eddie’s lap.

Robin loved watching Eddie watch Steve because, for the first time, it felt like someone finally saw in him what she’s always seen. She’s wanted nothing more for Steve than to have someone in his life who loves and takes care of him as much as she does. And Robin was so, so fucking sure that that person was Eddie Munson.

How things have gone horribly wrong.

Steve catches Eddie’s movement and bolts back toward the kitchen, faster than she’s ever seen him move on the court. Nancy moves to follow him but Robin slips her hand into hers. Beautiful, sweet, smart, wonderful Nancy Wheeler understands Robin quick as a flash, shoring up next to her to help block the hallway. 

Eddie stands on tiptoes in front of them, stretching his neck to catch a glimpse of what Robin hopes is a closed door.

“What happened?” Eddie’s genuinely concerned, and Robin has to shove down the warm, fuzzy feeling she normally gets when Eddie asks about Steve in favor of the overwhelming urge to murder everyone in this room. Except for Nancy, and maybe Argyle, who’s started slowly waking up from the commotion.

Robin obnoxiously shifts to the side to block Eddie’s path. “Don’t worry about it, Munson. He’s fine, just a little sick from the shitty weed.” The weed isn’t shitty– it’s Argyle’s. It’s the first excuse her brain concocted. But it doesn’t really matter. 

Her tone is barbed, meant to dig the hurt in deep and hook it inside his skin. She’s never considered herself a mean person. Apparently all someone has to do is hurt her best friend. Eddie flinches away, nose flared and eyes crinkled, ready to argue back until Nancy interrupts them both. 

“If Steve isn’t feeling well,” her voice chimes with a practiced false sincerity, “maybe we should all head home and let him rest.” God Robin fucking loves this woman. Always quick on her feet, fast on the uptake.

Robin’s gaze is unyielding in the face of an angry Eddie Munson. They both know, under normal circumstances, Robin would back down by now. Every second he’s forced to soak in her wrath, she catches him shrinking further in on himself. There’s uncertainty growing in the uptick of his brows, the crease of his forehead. He’s tugging at the hem of his sleeveless Queen t-shirt.

Her lip pulls up into a fierce scowl in recognition. Robin tugs at the front of the shirt hard enough to stretch it out. She’s not too worried about ruining it anymore than it already is. There’s white paint stains on the shoulders from when Steve begged her to help give his bedroom walls a base coat. Little holes dotted along the hemline from Steve’s poorly-ashed joint a few months ago.

The shirt is old, faded, well-loved, and Steve’s. It’s all the reasons why Eddie asked to keep it, and why Steve didn’t hesitate to give it up, wanting Eddie to always have a little piece of him.

Robin’s white-knuckled grip stretches the shirt enough that the sound of ripping causes Eddie to try and escape. When she lets go, a few of the holes in the hemline have torn together. He stumbles backwards, smoothing out the new stretch marks on what’s left of the printed lettering.

Robin revels in the moment he truly recognizes what he's wearing. His face now completely devoid of the Freak’s bravado and misplaced anger. What’s left is a montage of emotions like confusion, frustration, and panic, running him over like a bulldozer and Robin gets to watch each hit smash him deeper into the dirt.

“Yeah, Nancy might be right,” Jonathan sighs, sounding faux-tired and yet all too pleased to call it early. He slaps his knees as he stands and gives Argyle’s shoulder enough of a shake to get the guy up and moving.

They gather their things, Nancy wandering over to help push them along, while Eddie and Robin stand as stone pillars facing each other. She’d plant herself here the rest of her life if it meant keeping her soulmate safe.

“Robin,” Eddie practically whimpers, “please–”

“Hey, uh, Teddy?” Jonathan chirps up happily from across the room. Eddie’s eyes slip closed in pain when Robin mockingly mouths the nickname back at him– one she thought was special, just for Steve. “I’ve still got a few more pre-rolls, want to head back to my place?”

Eddie’s eyes fly open. A sardonic smile splits her face as he chokes on his own spit in response. “Guess this means you won’t be staying. Right, Teddy?”

Eddie flinches when Jon slings a heavy arm over his shoulders, which morphs into a possessive claim when he drops his arm to wrap around Eddie’s waist, going so far as to slip the tip of his finger into the top of Eddie’s skin-tight jeans.

Robin notices Argyle’s hair dip forward to hide his face. It’s only now she realizes he’s missed everything that’s happened. Sure enough, she barely catches the shock in his eyes before he turns away.

This is such a fucking nightmare. If she breaks Jonathan’s head open with the nail bat upstairs, she wonders if she’ll be able to see the part of his brain that’ll tell her what the hell he was thinking when he decided to kiss Eddie.

Moving to extricate himself from Jonathan’s hold, Eddie awkwardly chuckles. “Actually, Johnny-boy, I think I might just head home instead.”

“Oh,” Jonathan frowns, in a way that Robin absolutely hates. “How are you going to get home? Didn’t Steve pick you up earlier?”

Eddie– eyes still locked on Robin– very obviously flounders for an excuse and Robin’s enjoying watching him grasp at straws. “I’ll just walk home. Little bit of fresh air never killed anyone, right?”

“No, dude,” Jonathan croons, “I can give you a ride. I’m more than happy to go a little out of my way if it’s for you. Maybe we can smoke at your place instead?”

Jonathan’s free hand reaches up towards Eddie’s hair again, like a little boy pulling his crushes pigtails for attention. But Eddie practically throws himself at the opposite wall, putting as much space between them as he can without actually running down the front door.

“I’m dropping off Argyle, anyway,” Nancy jumps in to save the day, her hand gently patting Argyle’s shoulder, “and you two live the same direction. So why don’t I drive Eddie home instead?”

“Please,” Eddie begs, staring at Robin as he melts with relief into the wall. “That’s great, yes. Thanks Nance.”

Jonathan seems to have shrugged off the entire exchange as he moves towards the door to slip his shoes on. Nancy and Argyle are already ready to go, waiting on Eddie, who’s slowly backing his way toward them and still looking at her. This might be the first staring contest Robin’s ever won in her whole life. 

Once he’s finally got his shit together, Eddie looks her up and down, confusion scrunched between his eyes. “Aren’t you coming with? You said you and Nancy were–”

“I think I’ll be staying here, thanks,” Robin states flatly. 

Eddie chews on his lip, but nods and heads out the door, Jonathan still hot on his heels. Her and Nancy exchange a quick I love you, good luck, keep me updated goodbye before she shuts the door behind her.

Every fantasy Robin imagined about a future filled with her favorite people fell apart in the span of five minutes. She can’t help but wonder if they had just gone back to the party sooner. If Steve had confessed to Eddie yesterday. If Eddie hadn’t gotten so high or maybe even if Jonathan had an ounce of common sense, this could’ve been avoided. 

Robin could be lying in bed with Nancy tonight, wrapped around each other, comfortable and warm. She could fall asleep proud that Steve had finally worked up the courage to confess how he felt. She could’ve woken up tomorrow imagining her two favorite dinguses were in a similar tangled mess of limbs, and she could smile knowing they finally found each other.

But now, silence presses against the walls of this empty house, pushing at the ceiling and cracking the foundation. It sits heavy on her chest. Her head’s filled with static and she thinks she finally understands the juxtaposition of a loud silence. But a weak sob cuts the air like a jagged shard of glass. Turning towards the kitchen, she shores up everything she has left in her to help her soulmate pick up the shattered pieces of his broken heart.

Part 2

Ao3

[guardianofnightmares]

Prowl: I’m not asking questions in order to judge, Bumblebee. The only thing I want is to understand you.

Bumblebee: … he couldn’t see me. And yet, I felt like he was observing me, my gestures and emotions, learning more about a mech I turned out to be in his inner sight.

Perhaps, it was due to effects of a prolonged direct link between our processors… but I think Megatron’s discovered something in my data, in our shared memories. Something unique solely to a mech like him, who managed to see it… And he has accepted that version of me, which no one else, even me, will ever know.

----------

Back from a much needed break with a new work and the first thing which came to my mind was my beloved TFA crackship (help). But I would be lying if I said that it was not a welcomed change of pace.

Jokes aside, it’s cool to see people liking the interactions (platonic/friendly ones as well) between these two characters, however few of such works there are on web. Because in my opinion, there is a potential for an interesting chemistry between them in some TF continuities. Like in TFA where, given the right opportunity, two mechs can find strength in each other and a such desired safe harbor.

P.S. I am planning on giving a proper explanation of this AU of mine in the future. Hope you’ll enjoy my twist on MegaBee pairing which was brewing in my mind for quite a while now.

[little-annie]

T| WC 1k | Steddie | Uncle Wayne POV

"You love him don't you?" Wayne whispers, breathy, quiet, his voice cracking around the edges of something that feels like raw emotion.

It's then that Eddie turns his gaze away from Steve to look at him, the light never fading from his eyes and the smile never wiping from his face.

Steve's sitting on the trailer floor, in the middle of the living room, Eddie's clothes hanging from his body as he flips through one of Eddie's many monster manuals. Wayne knows the boy would never admit it, but he's just as interested in D&D as the other kids. He's helping Eddie plan his next campaign for christ sake.

Next to Wayne, two cans of coke in hand and a love struck smile on his face, Eddie nods, his cheeks darkening as his smile ever so slightly fades. "Is that okay?" He asks, looking all the bit nervous as his eyes roam Wayne's face.

"More than okay, Son."

Eddie's smile brightens once again and if Wayne notices the small amount of tears welling in his eyes, he says nothing about.

"You ever going to tell him?" Wayne continues, nodding in Steve's direction, the boy still oblivious to the conversation being whispered behind his back.

"I don't know if I can."

Wayne says nothing to Eddie's reply as he watches the boy return to the living room where he sits down next to his best friend. Steve smiling bright as the sun upon Eddie's return.

Months go by and Wayne gets to watch as Steve falls too. It's there and so obvious to anyone but Eddie.

His eyes linger and his smile never fades. Soon Wayne sees as he sits a little closer and his cheeks grow a little pinker.

There's moments when Wayne catches what he can only describe as a love struck expression across Steve's face. Eddie's talking, because when is he not, and Steve's there, eyes wide and locked onto Eddie's ever changing expression. 

He looks fond. Fond in a way Wayne's never seen anyone look at his nephew.

There's moments when he sees Steve hesitant. Moments when he and Eddie are so close and Steve's hand twitches like it wants to reach out. Moments when Steve looks like he wants to lean in but bites his lip and turns away with rosy cheeks.

It's nearly a year into their friendship when Steve's standing at Wayne's side and whispers, "I think I love him."

"Tell him," Wayne answers easily, leaving out the 'please' he so desperately wants to tack onto the end of that sentence.

Please, he thinks again as he watches Eddie turn to face them from across the yard, a smile so beautiful Wayne thinks it's the first time he's seen it on Eddie's face. The boy's elbow deep in his van as his cheeks grow a little pinker as he says with a smile, "Stevie, come here for a sec."

Steve leaves, but not before whispering back to Wayne, "I think I will."

No more than a week later Wayne comes home to find the boys on the couch, Steve sleeping and curled into Eddie's side, snoring with his nose pressed to Eddie's neck. 

Wayne offers his boy a smile as he stirs from the sound of the door closing. He looks tired, arms tightening around Steve's waist as he smiles back and burrows closer, kissing the top of Steve's head before drifting back off. 

"He loves me," Eddie says one evening, weeks down the road, a rare occasion when Steve isn't over, and Eddie's actually home.

Wayne smiles, his heart so warm and full as he says, "I know."

Steve's been over for a few weeks now. Part of Wayne's convinced he's moved in, what with the new additions to their fridge and bathroom vanity. The idea doesn't upset him in the least. 

He's gotten to witness their love grow during that time anyway.

He's gotten to witness the way Steve kisses a grumpy Eddie good morning until he finally smiles.

Or the way Eddie lights up when Steve's arms wrap around his waist and he whispers an "I love you, Eds," that Wayne isn't sure if he's supposed to hear.

Or the way they giggle and kiss and love one another in such a beautiful and uninhibited way.

Granted too, sometimes that means Wayne's hears a bit too much. Eddie would be mortified to know there's been far too many occasions in which Wayne's had to leave the trailer to escape the gasping breaths that occasionally pour out from under his bedroom door.

Though this time, Wayne's inside as the boys are on the roof smoking and he thanks the lord above that all he can hear are the faintest of whispers. 

There's only parts of the conversation that he catches, but his heart swells when he hears Eddie's voice so clearly say, "I'm gonna marry you someday, Steve Harrington."

Wayne cries the day Eddie shows him the ring. 

And cries even harder when Steve shows him his.

Steve's hand is shaking where the single golden band lies on his ring finger, Eddie standing directly behind him, arm around his waist with a smile that matches Steve's in the way it resembles Sunshine.

They can't marry, not legally anyways. But that doesn't stop Jim Hopper from officiating a ceremony or Joyce Byers from walking Steve down the aisle. 

The backyard to Hoppers cabin is filled with faces Wayne has grown familiar with over the years. Young and old, smiling and crying all the same.

Dustin and Robin both write speeches, both as rambling and as funny as they are beautifully heart wrenching.

There's not a dry eye in the house.

The boys move into an apartment where they build a life together.

Wayne visits often for meals or a cup of coffee in the mornings, still delighting in the way his Eddie seems so wonderfully overcome with love and affection. 

He'd thought he'd shed enough tears for his lifetime at the wedding, but one evening, sat at the table with Robin Buckley and his boys, Wayne finds out he's gonna be a grandpa. 

Elaine Birdie Munson is her name.

Sunshine, they call her instead.

[pyjamatranslation]

The scene where Qimir says to Osha, "You should learn to trust yourself," made my jaw drop.

So often in books/movies/tv shows the love interest says some variant of, "Trust me," and the main character nods and we all swoon at their love. But someone who wants you to trust yourself? Who is basically saying, "You have good instincts. You got this''?! Someone who isn't saying, "Lean on me, I'll take care of it" but is instead saying, "You are so capable. I believe in you"? A supportive partner who encourages you to grow and stand on your own?!?!

Hands down the most romantic thing on the planet.

[capydoodle]

have compassion for yourself and for others. it seems hopeless but any small amount of good you can do is just that much more love in the world

[jayden-killer]

Late night talking.

A phone call with your classmate Eddie in the middle of the night is the medicine of your current problems.

A/N: I feel like I am more competent in writing with the use of the third person than in the first person. I can express better what’s in my head. However, I wanted to give 1st POV a try. So here we go! As always, leave feedback. I apologise if you find any mistakes regarding the use of English; I'm a non-native English speaker.♡

divider by @uzmacchiato

The day could not be worse than this. Or better, it could not be worse than this in general. It had become problematic whatever I did, a real burden to carry on my shoulders all the time. Even the little things got on my nerves, like the cup full of milk that slips out of my hands, being late for class even though I had left home before, even if someone was joking by making a joke annoyed me.

Robin had told me to take it "lightly" because nothing serious had happened, but in the last period, it had become too much. So much so that I cried in my bed, the blankets pulled up to my face and clenching a plushie on my chest that I had from when I was little. Afterwards I don’t remember why my hands reached out to get the phone, nor why I chose to call Eddie Munson, the local freak from our religious town; all I know is that I did it without hesitation.

I didn’t talk to him much. In fact, I didn’t talk to him at all. We were two classmates taking the same English course during this second semester. We had had few and minimal conversations, very short. In the latest one, Eddie asked me for explanations about one of Shakespeare’s sonnets, and I, as a good educated person, made myself available to explain it to him. He seemed a little distracted, but I didn’t blame him: Shakespeare wasn’t for everyone, and I didn’t feel like saying no, especially with those doe brown chocolate button eyes...

Nevermind. I'm zoining out, aren't I? I'm thinking about him again.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. He was probably already asleep. But after all, who would stay awake at 2:33 in the morning, knowing that the next day they had to be at school? Of course, me.

I had a heart-pounding feeling that the cornet on the other end had risen and a male voice, tired, had answered the phone. "Munson House, this is Eddie speaking."

For a moment, I had a cramp in my throat. I didn’t think he would answer seriously. The thought of Eddie Munson talking to me on the phone in the middle of the night made me shiver, yet it unleashed that feeling of contentment all over my body.

"Helloooo? Who’s on the phone?"

I didn’t realize I hadn’t answered it yet. "Eddie. Hi." I reminded him who I was by mentioning my name. "The girl who explained Shakespeare to you. Remember?"

On the other side I heard a rustle, perhaps Eddie was getting comfortable in his bed or couch. It was at that moment that I asked myself what he was doing before I bothered him with this stupid, senseless call-

"How can I not remember a pretty face like yours?" he laughed playfully. "How are you?"

"I’m fine… At least I think so." Apparently, that answer wasn’t enough for Eddie. His question had been my point of no return; I burst into tears. Clenching the plushie tighter to me, I made to answer, until he took the word.

"What’s going on?" he asked softly. I imagined that troubled expression that sometimes at lunch, in the cafeteria, appeared on his face and I could not help but observe him, curious.

"It’s not a good time. I’m sorry if I called you at this hour, it’s also past two o'clock in the morning and maybe you were sleeping. I don’t know why I called you, we don’t know each other well–"

Call me anytime.

I was interrupted by his steady and, at the same time, reassuring voice. "Hey, hey, hey, it’s all right, you don't have to apologise for this," he laughed softly.

"I know we haven't spoken a lot in the last...semester? Or more? But seriously, you can call me anytime. I don't mind talking to you."

Those three words were enough to send me off.

Call me anytime, call me anytime...

There was a little silence between us, precisely because I had been caught off guard and my frailties were about to be finally exposed.

"And you’re not the only one who needs to be distracted during no-periods."

"Right."

My eyes focus on the ceiling and my fingers loosen their grip on the phone. "What were you doing?" I tried to ask, moving on to another topic.

"I was watching television. I rented a movie from the store where Harrington works. Wanna know something? I asked for a discount because we were friends and he started with: 'Munson, after you threw up on my shoes a few weeks ago because of your cheap beer, I don’t think we can call ourselves friends'" he said, imitating the voice of Steve Harrington.

Sometimes they passed by me in the main corridor, other times I had seen them in the parking lot behind the school talking about who knows what. Surely he had managed to make me laugh at that moment, to make me lighter.

"What movie were you watching?"

"Highlander."

"Come on! I like it too".

Eddie whistled in surprise. "I didn’t know you liked sci-fi movies. You’re a woman of many surprises". He chuckled, probably shifting again. "Well, obviously we’re both nerds. Although I should have expected it from the leader of the Hellfire."

"You should come sometime. To our D&D sessions, I mean." I felt Eddie take a deep breath and throw it out, as if he had thought twice about whether to ask me or not. I felt my face going on fire at that moment.

"Really?"

"Really, really."

Everything was happening so fast that I didn’t realize it had been an hour and a half since I started the call. The conversation was one of those typical between two friends who knew each other for a lifetime and it seemed that the embarrassment I showed at first in calling him had never existed. I wish he was here…

No, no, no. Don’t start again. Keep it together, woman!

I yawned. The new position I had taken had become too comfortable and sleep was about to take over me. "Are you sleepy?" Eddie asked me with a tired tone, and once again I imagined him lying on the sofa, looking at the TV with distracted eyes.

"Yes," I said, "and you should sleep too."

God, why was I reminding him? It wasn’t my boyfriend. Was I going too far?

"Right, and tomorrow we’re gonna have another day in that shit-hole jail."

"The jail is the school?" I chuckled, rubbing my eyes.

"School, jail...doesn't make a difference to me anyway" He yawned too. "Was I helpful?" he asked and I furrowed my eyebrows at that question. "What do you mean?"

"It seems like my job here is done." He then replied and I facepalmed mentally because he had asked me if he was helpful of making me forget what happened during these weeks. I nodded, even if he couldn't see me at all. "Very much."

"Great. Then, sleep well, okay? I hope to see you tomorrow at school."

He wants to see me. Me. The thought of it made my heart do a flip in my ribcage, and I couldn't contain the large, tired smile appearing on my face. It felt like a scene coming straight from a rom-com movie, even though my life wasn't a comedy at all.

"Sure. Yeah. Maybe...at lunch?"

"Come by my table. I'll introduce you to my fellow followers".

What was that so surprising to me? Eddie wasn’t really who the town thought he was. They painted him as if it were a creature from Dante’s hell, when he represented its exact opposite. He was friendly, funny, kind, cordial and even offered to meet his group of friends. I was looking forward to tomorrow morning.

"Of course! Yes, I would love to".

"You’d better rest then. I’ll see you tomorrow."

Before I could hang up the phone, Eddie said one last thing that kept me awake for a little while:

"You’re a nice person. I’m glad to have spoken with you".

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Wayne's a man of few words, and Eddie knows he needs a minute when processing information. So, when Eddie tells Wayne that he's a boy and not a girl, Wayne grabs him by the hand and pulls carefully into the restroom, Eddie remains calm. . .giving him the benefit of the doubt. Wayne had grabbed a spoon and started putting shaving cream on Eddie's face.

"What are you doing, Uncle Wayne?" He asked.

"Teaching you how to shave your face, boy," Wayne said.

And it was the first time he called Eddie boy. It was such a simple word, and yet somehow, Wayne filled it with love.

"I don't even have the medicine - ,"

"You will," Wayne said firmly. "Now, hold still for once."

"I love you," Eddie said softly.

"I love you, too, kid," Wayne said. "Always."

Eddie blinked away the tears from his eyes and turned to pay attention to what Wayne was showing him in the mirror. Hmm, it looked like he was wearing a whipped cream beard, and before he knew it -

"BOY! You ain't supposed to eat it!" Wayne yelled. "If I had a nickel for every time I had to say something like that to ya . . ."

Eddie cackled in delight.

[and-corn]

girls rule.

[gayofthefae]

You know how I know Mike is queer?

These are the same person. Mike is an inherently caring, loving, and protective person. It's what Will called out in 4x08 and reminded us of with Mike's desire and practice in attempt to be a "hero" and be able to help the ones he loves.

But when El tells him she feels unloved by him, he doesn't comfort her. At all. He defends himself. He doesn't even say "yes I do". He says "I say it". Even when he's arguing that he loves her, he is defending himself, not comforting her. If he was comforting her he would have reacted to her crying at all. He doesn't. He just becomes increasingly desperate and escalates the tactics that are making her cry more.

Because the accusation is that important to him. Not many things could be so important to him that he would deprioritize her or taking care and protecting and comforting those he loves. He even does quite well at it at the start of the scene. We have PROOF that he is pretty stable these days with any sort of accusation or invalidation with how well he takes "you don't understand" and simply asks questions without any sort of offense. So he CAN take it. He takes it IN THIS CONVERSATION.

But when she says he doesn't love him, he stops the "they just don't know you". He stops the "don't say that about yourself, you're lovable," which is what this is really about for her. If he had said that even if he couldn't say it himself, it might have still helped a little bit: frame it as his own fault if he can't. But he couldn't do that. Instead, he went with how it reflected on HIM that he couldn't say it and defended himself AGAINST her. FOUGHT her on it.

There are few things that can make him fight a person. And they've all actually been pretty similar. They're all El:

"You're prioritizing El over Will"

"There is something off about your relationship with El"

"You're prioritizing El over [Will]"

"He's right that your and [El's] relationship wasn't a good one"

"Your and El's relationship wasn't a good one"

"You're prioritizing El over [Will]"

"You don't love [El]"

He is comforting. He is kind. He prioritizes others' comfort and safety consistently. He takes other accusations fairly lightly and focuses back onto the person making them and their emotions. And yet, what does he say in those instances and only those instances?

"SHUT. UP."

"You lying piece of shit. You're crazy!"

"It's not my fault you don't like girls!"

"He's just some crazy old man"

"You're conspiring against me!"

"We're friends! We're friends!"

"You're being ridiculous. What is this?"

People who say his character has gotten worse are stating it under the idea that he is always like this. The entire discovery so many people, including myself, had that he's queer was because we noticed that his outbursts were consistent. People think he's random and angry because they think the situations are random: Lucas, Hopper, Will, Max, El. But they're forgetting to note what each of those people questioned about him right before.

The biggest proof is that he doesn't ever talk like this outside of these situations. It's lighthearted debates and empathetic conversations.

Mike Wheeler is a kind person. If he said "You're being ridiculous. What is this?" it is not just because he's scared of vulnerability or commitment.

[whydontyourealize-viennawaits4u]

I know we're supposed to hate wills style, but I love these specific outfits SO MUCH holy shit

[lefaystrent]

Patton being alone on Thanksgiving and going, "Well this won't do at all," and sending out invitation cards to all of his neighbors in his apartment complex to come join him for the holiday, have a home cooked meal, and offer a safe space to celebrate for anyone else who may not have anywhere else to go. He doesn't know his neighbors, and maybe it's a long shot, but it's the thought that counts!

Fastforward to Turkey Day and five guys show up on his doorstep, all of them strangers to each other, but each of them having read the invite and going, "Why not?"

[plistommy]

Eddie: I can’t believe you are real. I mean look at you, you’re so fucking beautiful and gorgeous and I can’t believe you let me have you. You’re perfect and-

Steve: *laying in bed with a crazy bed head and Eddie’s band shirt on after waking up*

Steve: Awww Eds-

Eddie: I’m not finished, sweetheart! And the way you trust me to have you, like the other night when I fucked you and you blaablaablaablaaaaa…

Steve: :)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

In Regards To Your 2024 Summary:

Holy shit it’s been another year????? The hell?????

Also! Your art style is gorgeous and that being found in 2023 and then refined throughout late 2023 and the entirety of 2024 really shows, as does your growth in panel layouts, perspective, and — as you said — experimentation. If you ever post your animation or video game art I’m looking forward to it.

As cheesy as it sounds, being able to laugh at funny comics and look at all the details of your art really made my 2024 brighter, even when things were hard. Including looking at your older art— it doesn’t need to be new to be enjoyable! I’m glad your art is well loved and it’s a privilege to have been here since the (near) beginning. I hope you take care of yourself in 2025 and beyond!

You and your art bring a lot of people a lot of joy never forget that <3

Thank you so much for keeping up with my art journey throughout these last two years! Two years!!! I am baffled at how that feels both too long and too short!

Admittedly, my art summary didn't manage to capture the fact that I did a lot of comic layouts that I'm really proud of. I also drew more backgrounds and made some very detailed works (*Dungeon Meshi spoilers for these examples*).

The growth is lot more evident when comparing my 'best' comics of 2023 to 2024:

Sometimes the growth is vertical, sometimes it is horizontal - and damn, sometimes it goes out of sight into the Z-plane. But it is always happening!

[starkrebellion]

"Yes, Sam!" in season 5 or "You got this, Robby!" in season 6

they are each other's best friends actually!!!!