For a second I didnβt realize it meantΒ βhighβ as in a stonerβI thoughtΒ βHigh Geologistβ was like a rank of geologist or something and he was insulted you would challenge him to naming stones
I canβt believe I have to state this because I thought it was OBVIOUS!!! Do not interact with my page if you support, excited, and/or are going to watch the Harry Potter HBO reboot. FUCK YOU AND FUCK JKR!!!! Especially if you are in the marauders fandomβ¦ read the fucking room βΌοΈ
Another Steddie ficlet after a long winded word about leather erotica <3
I have a special interest in old-school, pre-internet erotica / BDSM literature and I've stumbled upon a legendary figure in the gay leather/SM community, Larry Townsend, who published The Leatherman's Handbook series in the 70s and 80s.
Now for the Steddie twist lmfao. I'm a firm believer and enjoyer of 'Confident and Eager To Learn' bisexual Steve Harrington. Mesh that with 'Experienced (ish) but I Spook Easy' gay Eddie Munson, and I'm having a field day. I like Dom!Eddie + Sub!Steve best, too, so bare that in mind for the rest of this ridiculous ficlet that wasn't supposed to have a word count. It's all sfw and very soft.
The handbook I'm currently reading on Internet Archive is the second of the series, written 10 years after the first in 1983. It's the third edition (pub. 1993) so it has revisions that put emphasis on safe sex and addresses the importance of safe play to avoid contracting and spreading HIV. Incredibly interesting, incredibly difficult to find much about online without actually buying a copy so if you want to cite/reference particular parts for a period work like me and my goddamn stranger things fanfiction, it can be hard as hell.
ANYWAY! While I'm being incredibly anal about keeping this stupid scenario as realistic as it could be, I'd love for Eddie to own one of these Handbooks (as well as the Leatherman's Workbooks, a splendid spin-off series from the main series and I highly recommend you deep dive them, too. They're etiquette/how-to booklets with cartoons, and intermissions of actual 'example scene' smut stories that remind me of the pre-written D&D campaigns like Vecna's Curse etc. How beautiful is that? Perfection).
I want to write a scene about steddie lying in Eddie's bed, a couple months into their relationship. Eddie considers Steve a wild bronco ready to bolt so he's going... slow. Steve knows Eddie is into kinky shit. He makes risque jokes and flaunts his hanky, flags it as he's making said jokes and never cares to elaborate, leaving just enough for his friends to see the innuendo without fully going into detail. He's honestly, painfully, shy though he hides it behind that "I'm so dark and mysterious" performance.
The guy seems to be all bark and no bite. Steve managed to badger him into explaining what his hanky meant after a month of Eddie shutting it down every time, saying things like:
"it's just an accessory." Bullshit.
"it's just a gay signal." Okay, but there's a code?
"There's no rush!" Well, I want it now!
When Steve finally gets the answers he was looking for, his initial reaction wasn't far from disgust. Look, his perception of S&M largely comes from corny, gross, low-budget splat-stick horror movies that play more like perverted snuff films than anything entertaining let alone sexy. It wasn't his vibe. Like, at all. As for the very few centre-spreads, or the skinny columns in Cosmo, that delve into anything related to BDSM, it all seemed so... Unnatural. Cruel. Performative. Theatre - yuck!
It came as a shock, suffice to say, that someone from small-town, wheat whacking Hawkins actually participated when he drove up to Indianapolis. His boyfriend no less.
Well, shit.
That initial fear didn't last too long, though. Eddie was nervous as shit, too, so immediately after his confession, every piece of etiquette he could remember in that moment came spewing from his mouth like word-vomit. It was a rush of jargon and Eddie's anxiety meant it was purely one-sided, his poorly articulated rambles leaving no room for a Q&A on Steve's end. Steve couldn't keep up but he got the gist. Eddie really likes this. Eddie is educated on it [in Steve's mind anyway. Realistically, he's played around with a couple people, been to clubs, and read the few books and comics knocking around at this time. I wouldn't call Eddie an expert by any means].
Eddie lives and breathes Dungeons & Dragons (and the joke in the name suddenly dawns on Steve) - this complex board game that doesn't even use a board, and requires too many numbers for it to possibly be any fun, and about three hundred pages of rules.
It's no surprise that Eddie's somehow complicated sex too, given it conveluted rules and turned it into fucking battle strategy. He's watched Eddie design dungeons, make up characters, and write elaborate plotlines with a passion so fervent nothing can shift him from desk until it's complete and perfect. So Steve told him he wants to hear about it. About this 'other dungeon' of Eddie's.
Sucking on a lock of hair, Eddie stared at him for a moment, coming down from his rampent rambling to consider Steve's proposal. Steve saw it then. Eddie's game face, the Dungeon Master, as he slowly pieced himself together because he had a mission, then. And he was going to do things properly for Steve, to the best of his abilities.
Which is troublesome for Steve because he is impatient and horny and obsessed with Eddie, but he can't deny that this BDSM thing has him a little shaky.
So, they're in the trailer snuggled on Eddie's bed one night.
"Can I show you something? It's, uh, related to my hanky and everything."
Excitement fucking soars through Steve's chest, his stomach flips and he can't keep the eager smile off his face. Okay so maybe he's been thinking about it a lot, but every time he tries he realises his own knowledge is too sorely lacking that he can't come up with anything besides those camp outfits and frankly terrifying movies. But that made him all the more excited for Eddie to show him, teach him what it is to Eddie. See the determined look on his face as he gets to yap on and on about something he's passionate about.
It would turn out to be much less Eddie's gentle teachings than they were another man's, named Larry Townsend. When Eddie, reciprocating well to Steve's blatant excitement, practically skipped to his bookshelf to pull out a pretty hefty book from beside his D&D books no less, Steve couldn't help but laugh.
"You keep your kinky literature next to your role-playing game? Makes sense I guess."
Eddie laughs in kind, rubbing his neck bashfully before shrugging. "Similar vein. Just as fun. I mean, time and place obviously." Oh boy, Steve thinks, here comes the boring rules and regulations talk.
Sitting opposite Steve on the bed, granting him unnecessary breathing space, Eddie passes the book over for Steve to flick through. It's a pretty blue colour, and staring up at Steve is an illustration of a ridiculously ripped, moustachioed man in an open leather vest and leather chaps with a window to a full basket. The spine is creased to all Hell, and he half-expects stuck pages that refuse to flip across his thumb. But nope, the pages are jizz-free and there are a lot of words. Not a single piece of pornography in sight.
"See, this is what I mean. Don't you think adding all these - je-sus! - all these words and rules takes the fun out of it? Like, this is the most unsexy book and it's literally about sex. Where are the models? Where's Steve Reeves?" He makes sure he keeps his tone light, so as not to make Eddie think he has to back-pedal and metaphorically cover Steve's eyes.
[AN: It pains me to say it but I have scoured the internet for a photo of the first edition of The Leatherman's Handbook II and have come up with nothing. So I'm describing the 2rd edition's cover, pub. 1989]
Thankfully, it works. Eddie laughs and points to the cover with the hot cop. "Right there, babe! And it's what's inside that counts." He informs, putting on a mock sincerity as if he were giving self-help advice.
The cop doesn't really do it for Steve. He can't help but compare himself to him, and he's not even real. Eddie does own a black leather vest similar to his, however, and that does do it for Steve. Eddie's is bejeweled with studs on the shoulders and back panel, and it's a tailored fit, better than whatever this cop guy is wearing.
"Handbook II, updated second edition.... Am I gonna be missing some vital plot points or does it recap?"
[This is purely so I could write this joke. Eddie would most likely have the first edition of handbook 2, not the second edition as it was published '89. And I'm soft for good etiquette so Eddie gets the second volume, not the first from 1972]
Eddie chuckles, clambering over and sitting next to Steve, finally. Half of his chest hugs Steve's back as he leans on the hand planted behind him.
"No, you'll catch up!" There was definitely something in Eddie's voice just then that wasn't all innocent. "This handbook is exactly as it sounds. Like... A Boy Scouts Handbook for it all." Steve snorts. He's too shy to even say it, fuck. "I only own this one. The first came out in '72 or something."
Steve turns to look his surprise at Eddie, their faces inches apart. "They were publishing this stuff in '72? I'm surprised they can even sell this now, to be honest."
"Right? Tricky to find, but this is like The Bible in the scene. Everyone's got one of these bad boys in their bedside drawer."
"Hm! Light reading before bed."
"No way. This thing is like an academic dissertation!" Eddie beams, gesturing grandly as his eyes begin to get that sparkle when he's excited about something. Which, with the status of triple senior, he really shouldn't be so excited about academic writing.
"Oh, great." Steve says deadpan. He means it light heartedly, though. But by god, Eddie better be prepared to paraphrase the- oh Jesus Christ - three hundred pages sat in Steve's hands right now.
Steve swallows, "Hey, I know this is like, your thing, and I want you to tell me about it! I really do! But if you expect me to get through this on my own in less than two years, expect sex to stay pretty vanilla until then."
Eddie snorts and presses his face into the side of Steve's, giggling into his hair before pressing a kiss there. "I'm not about to set you fetish homework, Stevie. If you're at all interested, there will be no deadlines, okay? And if it's really not your thing, then that's totally fine with me. We have vanilla sex until we die old together."
That does sound nice, and Steve's heart does flutter at the whole 'dying old together' thing, but... "Don't pretend that doesn't make you feel a little sick."
"Okay, maybe. But after that long? Vampire Law sets in. Everyone turns bisexual and starts drinking each others' blood for fun."
Steve blinks, "Right. Of course, the natural progression of a healthy relationship. Hey! I'm already one step closer than you."
"And how do you know I'm not drinking people's blood for fun, hm?"
Steve shoots him a horrified look. So it is like the movies?
"I'm joking, oh my god! Sorry, not helpful at all. No one is drinking blood- well, not me at least. No, thank you. We're in an epidemic, remember." Steve sighs and thinks a rap on Eddie's thigh with his fist is more than deserved.
"Ow! What was that for? I said I was joking!"
Steve squares him an unimpressed look before drawing attention to the book again and flipping to the table of contents, landing a finger somewhere random because he's honestly too nervous to read any of it yet.
"Well, it said here you wouldn't mind so much."
Eddie feigns an offended expression, but the grin pulling at his lips breaks his character. He playfully thrusts his pointer finger between Steve's eyes, pushing his head back a little in scolding. "And it says here that you're a little brat! Rule number one, Stevie: consent."
Steve sticks his tongue out at him. Eddie is beaming once again, before he's leaning into Steve's ear to whisper, "And you should ask me next time whether I like to be hit, cus I might just say the opposite."
Oh! Cool. Cool cool cool.
Fuck, Steve wants to flirt back. He wants to so bad. He knows they could just play with the fantasy for now, dirty talk without actually following through. But he's yet again coming up short. He's totally unprepared, totally uneducated and he wants Eddie to start teaching him already!
He clears his throat, leaning back into Eddie's space when he pulls back. "Could you... I don't know. I was expecting you to tell me all about this, I guess. You're good at, like, saying shit. Explaining shit."
Eddie blushes and takes a breath, "I'd rather not give myself a chance to fuck it up? It's been a while since I've read it myself, to be honest. Like, it'll be a refresher for me as much as a- a first lesson, so to speak, for you." He chuckles to himself, but Steve doesn't quite get the joke. He reckons it's probably hiding in this book somewhere.
Steve's not wholly satisfied with that. Never mind the fact he can't fucking read good to begin with, he wants to go through it with Eddie, together. If it's not supposed to be homework, as Eddie said, why does it feel like it? It's not helping his sense of dread and total anxiety around actually reading a single word, let alone digesting it and giving it the old college try.
Steve clicks his tongue. He flips the book to where he spotted the lengthy blurb and begins reading in his head.
'This completely new sequel to the Leatherman's Handbook reveals all the secrets of the underground world of leather and S&M practices. The experienced practitioner will discover new advanced refinements and the novice will learn the ropes from the ground up.'
Steve's the novice, isn't he? It's been so many years riding on the back of that local 'Harrington' reputation, he kind of forgot what it felt like to be a plain beginner at something. It's exciting.
'All the elements of fetish, fantasy, master/slave relationships and role playing techniques both simple and advanced are given an in-depth treatment by one of the world's foremost authorities'
And that would be Larry Townsend, he supposes. To be honest, Steve was going to give Eddie that title. After all, this is his field.
"Is that really his name?"
"Oh, definitely not. Probably a pseudonym. Censorship is still a threat to this kind of thing, even if it's educational. Like you said, it's the most unsexy book about sex. He does write smutty shit, too, so. Y'know. Helps keep yourself safe from nosy neighbours, friends, family. Police."
"Yeah, fucking Jesus..." Steve breaths labourously from his nose. "I mean, I'm not stupid. I'm not tryna act naive, it's just..."
"A stark reminder, right?" The arm Eddie props himself up with shimmies closer to the base of Steve's back, and a thumb starts stroking over his spine. The tension in Steve's shoulders goes lax and he sighs, wordlessly nodding before reading on.
'This book contains up to date explorations of booze, drugs and health for the gay male S&M practitioner and complete statistics on S&M preferences.
'The Leatherman's Handbook II tells you what to look for, where to find it, and how to do it when you've found it. This is the definitive book in its field.'
Steve wants to know, desperately. He's found it, or it found him, he just needs to know how to do it.
With that hurdle overcome, Steve feels a little more confident. Not 'I'll have my essay on your desk Monday, Sir' kind of confident, because his eyes are already playing up and the strain on top of his anxiety-wrought headache is telling him this is going to be hard work.
"Can't you give me the keynotes? Because," he flips through the three hundred pages for emphasis, "you're a better reader than me. By a mile." He chews his lip before an idea pops into his head, "Do you remember when we shared a senior year? We were in the same English class."
Eddie looks at him incredulously, pulling back slightly to consider his boyfriend's out-of-pocket enquiry, "You remember that?"
"Yeah, and I'd already gotten that blow from Billy that knocked my brain loose?"
"Jesus. Uh, yeah?" Eddie's thumb pets his back again sweetly.
"Well, Miss Manifold always forced us to popcorn read and I'd- this sounds so stupid- I'd legitimately cross my fingers in my pockets hoping it never came around to me."
"Oh, Stevie..."
Steve rushes to cut him off, finding the pity hard to swallow, but if they were going be transparent today he may as well lay his biggest fucking insecurity out for Eddie to see. See how wonky and janked up he really is.
"Reading that? Just this tiny bit?" He drags his finger up and down the blurb covering the back. "I can feel my eyes are already tired and, like, the strain gives me headaches and- yeah. It's a thing from the concussions. So, reading? Not my strong suit."
He can feel how rigid Eddie's gone. His chest is no longer moving against his back in that calming rhythm and when he finally does let go of his breath, the book is plucked from Steve's hands and Eddie's chest comes away from Steve's back as he's carrying the book away.
With a feverish urgency that startled even himself, Steve hooks an arm around Eddie's waist and pulls him flat against him again, book not having the chance to leave his hands just yet.
"Not what I meant! There was more. Please sit." Steve keeps his arm anchored around Eddie, and he takes the book back from his hands. Eddie doesn't look put-out, but shy. Embarrassed, maybe?
Steve continues, bumping his thigh solidly against Eddie's, "In Manifold's class, when popcorn landed on you, the words made sense. What even was it... Macbeth! I fucking hated that book. I hated English, period, but the stupid old-timey language made no sense. Y'know, Nancy had to write my final for it, if there was any chance of me ever graduating.
"But when we were reading it in class, and the popcorn landed on you, and you read it out loud? Shit, I remember you were so fucking dramatic about it. It was the big fight at the end when Macbeth gets himself killed because he stupidly let Macduff live when he had him down. All cus he suddenly felt guilty about murdering his entire family, which hey, did that not strike you as immoral in the first two acts? Then he got beheaded. And I only remember that because it was you who read that scene. All those words that don't even exist anymore managed to somehow translate in my head because of how you said them. And, like, I know Shakespeare's got that weird rhythm thing-"
"Iambic Pentameter." Eddie says, breathlessly.
"Sure - and I guess you just knew it because you're a fucking theatre kid, but all of a sudden I could actually understand, for the first time in that play, what the fuck was going on. Like, you put the correct emotion into every line and I guess I was able to pick up the meaning with the rest of the context?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah..." Steve catches his breath, meanwhile Eddie still seems breathless staring at his boyfriend with something too intense for Steve to meet. He looks down at the Handbook instead and holds it out for Eddie to take.
"Read it to me? Would that be weird?" He realises a little too late that it's probably not Iambic Pentameter in there, but there's a slim fucking chance he's reading it on his own. And he wants this. Wants to learn about it, like he has been doing the past couple months. Steve Harrington, 'the lady killer', who's done a one-eighty and decided to try out for the other team. Who's enjoying it. Who's loving it.
Kind of loves the man sat next to him, currently looking at him like he hung the goddamn moon and put those stars that twinkle directly into his eyes. What the hell?
"Are... Are you good?"
Eddie blinks, and a slither of moisture collects beneath his lashes but he winks it away, grinning, "Yeah, Stevie. I'm good."
_________
They arrange themselves side by side against the headboard. Steve opts for scooting down a little more so he can rest his head on Eddie's chest and look at the book's open pages as his boyfriend reads aloud, saving Steve the strain of actually having to take notice of what's on the page. He just has to listen. It was kind of ludicrous cozying up like this, like Eddie was reading him a bedtime story or some shit, only the story in question is an essay on how to spank your partner in a safe, ethical, pleasurable way.
So far, the author seems to have good humour about the whole thing, alongside his formal voice. Eddie enunciated well, caught the funny bits perfectly, and while Steve's brows were permanently screwed up, taking in all the information, he'd laughed a few times in the first ten pages.
Eddie read:
"Just as a side note to all of this, have you ever catalogued the responses you get from other gay guys when you first admit your interest in SM? I find the two most common remarks to be: 1) "I don't think I could ever let someone do anything like that to me," or 2) "Oh, I could never do anything like that to another guy." It's interesting insight into the other person's head. Remember how he replied, should the occasion ever present itself to introduce him to the pleasures you would like to share.'"
Eddie bent down to press his lips and speak that last sentence against the top of Steve's head, making Steve shiver. Eddie's hand sneaks into Steve's hair and settles at the front of his hairline, where he busies himself with twirling and gently raking his fingertips against his scalp and through his hair as he reads. If Steve wasn't so hyperfocused on what the book had to say, he'd probably be asleep by now, practically knocked out via kinky lullaby.
_________
"The attendant frustrations can lead to a strong need to seek some other outlet for the unfulfilled urgings of the individual's mind and body. We have come to call this "escapism." Some people read adventure novels, watch TV, go to the movies, take up jogging or some other physical exercise program β all in an attempt to work off the tensions arising from their dissatisfaction with the "real world." (Apologies to the joggers; I know some of them do it because they think it's going to keep them from getting fat and having a heart attack.)"
Eddie bubbles up, and Steve does too, already expecting to be teased.
Lo and behold, "He clocked you!" Eddie exclaims.
"Whatever, keep reading." He tries for deadpan and fails with the stupid smile that creeps on his face. Well, he certainly feels unexpectedly seen in this book, despite it not being in relation to 'SM' or 'Power Play'. This is proving to be fun.
"Other forms of escapism, usually chosen by people with more intelligence and imagination (maybe in addition to some the above forms), include creative activities. Some become collectors or engage in amateur theater, become amateur artists."
It's Steve's turn. "Hah! Larry called you ama-"
With the smallest, itsiest tensing of Eddie's fist in his hair, he urges softly, "Hush. Listen."
'Amateur' catches in Steve's throat as he's stilled to silence. Eddie doesn't continue yet.
"You did it just now, didn't you? The... thing. " He cranes his neck to look up at the other man, getting distracted with the feeling of Eddie seizing the opportunity to guide his head the rest of the way with that fisted lock of hair. Steve's breath quickens, simultaneously restricted with how his neck is stretched and his chest pressed atop Eddie's body.
"Good, you spotted it. That tells me you're listening." His hand relaxes its grip to continue petting his head. It's not unlike the usual condescension Eddie gives him when they're just bickering or flirting, really. But Steve recognises it for what it is, now. And sure, those other times? Not the time nor place. Now, however, is definitely different.
"Of course I'm listening! I asked for this. What, you thought I was just gonna catch some Zs like this is a-"
"Shush, Stevie! Listening - remember?" Then, his head is being coaxed to lie flat against Eddie's chest again.
Oh, holy shit okay. Yeah, alright.
Steve definitely pushed it with the bitchy back-chat, made himself sound extra pissy, like how they usually bickered. And, thank god, Eddie didn't spook. Trusted Steve to try it out.
As confident as anything now, Eddie continues, "One of the most popular escapes is gardening. Plants, after all, do not talk back."
He did it again where he speaks the words against Steve's skin. Makes them stick. This is so unfair! It's fun.
"But for the select few, the great escape comes in the blackroom, in bondage and discipline, in SM and its many variations."
_________
"But the fact that a man wore keys on his hip at all used to mean he was into something interesting. Now, any number of guys hang the keys because they think it gives them a hot appearance, but many only vaguely realize the meaning of their signals."
"Fuck, I've always done that!"
"Yes, you have! It's made me do a double take on more occasions than I'd like to admit."
"So... That was a gay thing?"
"Yep. Same way the metal music scene has adopted leather. Cheers, Rob. You've diluted your own waters."
"Rob?"
"Rob Halford? Judas Priest? He's right over there." Eddie points with the book at the wall opposite his bed. Oh, how the hell has Steve never clocked that poster before. A cute, slightly older-looking guy with fair hair mostly hidden beneath a biker cap, adorned with tight leather garments and holding a whip in his hand, no less, is staring down at Eddie's bed. It's all making a little more sense, now.
"Kind of an open secret that he's gay. Brought a lot of SM gear to the new wave of British heavy metal that ramped up in the late 70s. That then leaked into bands from the mainland," the book archs to the next wall where a record is propped up against Eddie's turntable. A hairy thigh spans most of the album cover, with the slither of a jockstrap in sight, as well as big silver rings falling from some sort of leather harness beneath a jacket. The man's fist grasps something round that Steve can't quite make out.
"...and wound its way back to America with MΓΆtley CrΓΌe and MotΓΆrhead." Following Eddie's direction, Steve lifts his eyes from the turntable and spots the glint of silver studs embedded in dark leather, reflecting stage lights from within another poster.
Steve chuckles, turning back to look at Eddie. "You're like an encyclopedia I'd never open for information that matters to me, but I still do just to look."
"Rude." There's that squeeze in his hair, again. Steve smiles to himself. Cool.
"No, in a cute way, I promise! Like, all the pages are chaotic. It's only about niche and weird topics. And there's pictures and your cool drawings. Probably colour coded, uses metal fonts. You'd be the coolest looking encyclopedia, and it'd be, like, easy to digest-ish. But I would never have expected to find the things I'm looking for in it, y'know? At first."
There's a beat of silence before Eddie makes a decisive hum and his fist relaxes again. Steve's starting to get it now. He must have done good just then.
Eddie waves the book, "And are Larry Townsend's contributions to my niche and weird encyclopedia helping to change your tune?" His lips stay tightly drawn in a line, obviously fighting a shy smile Steve can see right through to.
Steve pretends to give it even consideration. "Mmm... Keep reading."
Yooo, Mama by My Chemical Romance is literally just transmasc Regulus in the specific moment between when he found out about the horcruxes and his death
- post-s4, steveβs hearing is justβ¦ messed up. he lip-reads without thinking about it now. in loud places (the diner, family video on a busy day), half the conversation turns into white noise and heβs too embarrassed to keep asking βwhat?β so he justβ¦ nods and fakes it.
- eddie figures it out first because steve starts laughing on the wrong beat at jokes or answering questions that werenβt asked. thereβs this awful moment where eddie realizes, oh, no one took care of him after all that. they just sent him home.
- some people in town think steveβs ignoring them when he doesnβt respond, and it feeds straight into that βking steve is stuck upβ narrative, which makes him overcompensate and be extra nice while still not actually hearing half of whatβs being said.
- steve has this ringing in his ears at night that makes it hard to sleep; sometimes he puts a fan on just to drown it out. eddie hears it one night and quietly starts bringing tapes over so they can fall asleep to music instead.
- when they argue, steve really hates when eddie turns away while talking, because he loses the words and it feels like being shut out twice. eddie has to train himself to stay facing him, even when heβs pissed.
- thereβs this bit where dustin talks too fast and excited and steve misses parts and smiles anyway, and later eddie repeats the story slower in the van so steve can actually have it.
- they have a nonverbal way to communicate βi love youβ. steve squeezes the back of eddieβs neck twice with his thumb (like this steady grounding touch) and eddie always answers with two taps to steveβs wrist. no one else knows that specific pattern = βlove youβ
Needing to sneak around in your own house to do normal shit like eat or watch a goddamn movie has to be one of the suckiest experiences ever. Truly can't wait to move out and disappear for months
Calisto, like the moon @justalilfandomguy - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag