i get that americans love their cultural imperialism, but it really does piss me off that june is “international” pride month just because something happened in the united states.
in aotearoa, june isn’t our pride, it’s theirs. marsha p johnson and sylvia rivera are their historical figures, not ours. the phrase that “you owe your rights to Black trans women” is true there, but here we owe our rights to (mostly) Māori historical figures. i have the freedoms i do because of the legacy of an entirely different set of people operating in an entirely different context at entirely different times.
But because of american cultural imperialism, most queer people in Aotearoa don’t even know our own queer history. Carmen Rupe, Ngahuia Te Awekotuku, the Dorian Society, Gillian Laundon, Georgina Beyer, and the Wolfenden Association are some of our queer history. We should know their names! we should know what they did for us! but because of the power of the american imperial machine, we don’t.
our national pride month should be july, the month that the Homosexual Law Reform Act passed in 1986. our two largest cities hold their pride festivals in february and march, respectively. american queer history has very little (or nothing, depending on who you ask) to do with our queer history. anecdotally, from my own queries, queer youth in aotearoa know more about american queer history than our own.
anyway, happy pride, americans. i’m truly sorry that most of you don’t see the negative impact your nation’s culture has on the rest of the world. and to the rest of the world reading this, try searching for your own country and culture’s queer history, don’t accept the american narratives as your own. we deserve our own histories divorced from the cultural hegemony of the USA.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Enemies to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Queer Eddie Munson, Royal Steve Harrington, Advisor Eddie Munson, Advisor Robin Buckley, Billy Hargrove is His Own Warning, Arranged Marriage, Royal Chrissy Cunningham, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, No Homophobia Universe, Protective Steve Harrington, POV Steve Harrington, Attempted Sexual Coercion, Near Death Experiences, Near Drowning, Sword Sparring, Hehehe, Minor Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Anal Sex, Jousting, Fanart, Podfic Welcome
Summary:
Steve had always known it was a possibility… Marrying as a business transaction, rather than for love. It was part and parcel of being born a royal.
A simple fact of life.
But meeting Chrissy helped to ease his worries of what his life was soon to become. She was sweet. She was kind. Even if they never grew into romantic love, he knew they would be very good friends as soon as he could whisk her away from her cold and harsh kingdom.
Now if only he could convince her Royal Advisor and resident guard dog, Eddie Munson of that.
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project hail mary is a touching and poignant film that leaves you asking questions about humanity like, "wow what if all mainstream media was genuinely good" and "what if book adaptions actually gave a shit about the book in question" and "what if studios hired actors that could actually act, and then let them get a lil wacky with it"
Okay but imagine being the team of Eridian scientists tasked with keeping Erid's Only Human alive for as long as possible while the whole planet's environment is literally trying to kill him. And then Rocky shows up and is like:
“Grace says he would like half of dome to be water.”
“Oh, is necessary for humans to have large amounts of water question?”
Small Eridian equivalent of a sigh. “No. Not needed for life. In fact Grace will die if he falls in water and does not get out.”
“Tell him we give him water in containers that won't kill him. Lots lots lots of water on Erid for Grace to drink.”
“No. Grace say he want water on ground. Also want it with excess sodium chloride compound so it will be unhealthy for drink.”
To celebrate Erid getting their sun back on track, Grace asks for some alcohol. There's a small amount left from the Hail Mary and Rocky offers to take it to the science Eridians to see if they can synthesise more.
“Grace want this liquid for celebration.”
“Of course.” They scan it. “You have wrong liquid. This contain compounds which are poisonous for humans.”
“Yes yes yes. Grace say humans like feeling of being slightly poisoned.”
2026 Big Bang project reveal time! I'm so excited to get to work with @lamoabss as the artist for this Big Bang project! I'm thrilled you were interested in teaming up to work on my NFL Steve AU submission! I can't wait to have so much fun!❤️
Details:
Rating: E
Estimated Word Count: 60,000-65,000
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson & Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson & Gareth, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley
Characters: Robin, Gareth, Wayne, Dustin, Tommy, Chrissy, Goodie, Jeff
Tags: Sports AU, American Football, Modern Setting, NFL Football Player Steve Harrington, Hobby Shop Owner Eddie Munson, Getting Together, Falling in Love, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Closeted Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Secret Relationship, Boys in Love, Happy Ending
Summary:
If there's anything Eddie Munson knows, it's that he doesn't give two shits about sports, or the people who play them. Professionally, or otherwise. It's practically the charter entry in The Munson Doctrine, despite growing up with his Uncle Wayne glued to games on the television year-round. Sports just don't interest Eddie. Never have, never will.
Enter, Steve Harrington.
Henderson dragging this football player into his store wasn't in Eddie's game plan, but, well, Eddie supposes there's an exception to every rule in the book. And now, here Eddie is, living a sports-filled life he never could have predicted.
Eddie learns about football.
Eddie cares about football.
It's honestly quite troubling.
Excerpt:
"Jesus H. Christ, look at that thing," Eddie says in a barely hushed whisper, reverent, eyes trained on Steve on the jumbotron screen at the end of the field. He looks to the other side of the field, because that screen is even bigger. It's trained on Steve as he swings his leg high into the air.
He's right there.
It's right there.
"Gareth. Look."
Gareth scoffs. "Would rather not."
"But you can see it, right?" Eddie asks, eyes glued to the live feed of Steve's lower body, his crotch, being projected into the stadium. It's all Eddie can focus on. The camera operator must be a perv. He deserves a raise. Why didn't Eddie bring binoculars? Fuck. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. "I'm not hallucinating it?"
"No, unfortunately everybody with eyes can see it. White pants? With that hog? Children are here."
Eddie laughs, "God bless tight white pants. I think I love football. I wonder if he'd wear them for me, up close and personal? For science."
The woman behind him says 'ew' through a laugh, but she leans forward, grasping both of Eddie's shoulders, making Eddie jump as she squeezes a little too hard, her lips resting near his ear, whispering, "Hi. Eddie? You're Eddie, right?"
Eddie nods. She continues:
"Great. He's not out. So can you just be cool? And less horny? Please?"
He turns. She's a cute lesbian. Well, he thinks so anyway. His gaydar is very rarely wrong. Steve did confuse it a little, he can't get everyone right on first impression. Why is she footballing? She doesn't look like she'd enjoy that any more than Eddie would. And why does she know his name?
"Nearly everybody around you are season ticket holders. They know exactly whose seats you're in. Just. Be quieter with your cock color commentary. Please and thank you."
Eddie swallows. He never would have thought of that.
"They come to every game?" Eddie asks, because, like. Seriously? That doesn't sound fun.
"Every game," she confirms, "and I'm really happy for him. You're cute. For a boy. But. Zip your lip. Got it?"
Eddie nods.
He knew she was as queer as he is.
"I'm Robin, I'm his best friend," she says, finally introducing herself.
Eddie turns, "Does Henderson know that?"
She rolls her eyes.
"He's a little shit. He can say whatever he wants, he's always running that mouth of his. But I know the truth. Who is here right now? Me. I don't see him, do you?"
Eddie grins, "I own a hobby shop. Henderson is a regular. That's how I met Steve."
She raises an eyebrow, "I am aware of exactly who you are, Eddie. If you have any other questions, just ask."
Eddie grins, wickedly. "I do have one."
"Okay," she says, suspicious. Rightfully so.
He leans back, getting closer to her, "Is it a cup?"
She sighs, rolling her eyes as she slumps back in her seat.
He raises an eyebrow, waiting.
"It's not," she grits out, and Eddie is delighted with this information.
She seems to be weighing something, but finally she leans forward, "Do you know what Reddit is?"
Eddie rolls his eyes. Yes. He's new football, not earth. He nods.
"Check the NFL Bulges subreddit, then. He's a frequent post subject. I hate that I know this. I should not have to know this."
Eddie laughs, absolutely thrilled that this is a real thing that exists. Maybe he can get down with football.
It's finally time to reveal my project for this year's Steddie Big Bang! If you are into tattoo shop AUs and fix it fics (and the idea of Steve Harrington with a massive back tattoo), this one is for you!
I will be working with the incredible @sammichtastic (for the second year in a row, can you believe it???) and I can't WAIT to see the amazing art they will create for this!!!
Summary and snippet under the cut
COVER (verb)
1: to guard from attack
2: to hide from sight or knowledge
3: to lay or spread something over
- - - - -
Eddie knows all about scars.
How they go deeper than your skin. How they remind you of things you wish you could forget, and how they can turn every look in the mirror into a test of courage. How to turn them into something beautiful - each tattoo an affirmation of power written in ink, pain and blood; a refusal to let things that can't be undone define you.
What Eddie doesn't know is how to stay out of things he shouldn't get involved in.
There's a million different reasons why he should turn Steve away. Because the size of the motif he wants is ambitious at best for a first tattoo, and borderline insane at worst. Because something about his story just doesn't add up. Because he is exactly the kind of man that brings Eddie dangerously close to the edge where professionalism ends and obsession begins.
But Steve has been living with those scars for over ten years, and his body is the most intriguing canvas Eddie has seen in a while. As they set out to reclaim Steve's story, Eddie finds his obsession growing deeper with every drop of ink. Especially when it turns out that their past, present and future are more closely entwined than either of them imagined.
- - - - -
A story about covering scars, uncovering secrets, and recovering what was lost.
“Did you know,” he says, carefully peeling the wrapping paper off his snack, “that if things had gone a little different, we might have been neighbors, you and I?”
Steve, who has just taken his first bite, makes a quizzical noise.
“As I learned today,” Eddie explains, “my uncle almost moved us to Hawkins when I was a kid. Crazy shit, isn't it? We would've gone to school together, maybe even shared some- Fuck, are you okay?”
Steve just broke into a round of big, violent coughs. Eddie is by his side in an instant, hand raised, but hesitates at the sight of the fresh outlines on his back. They're lightly raised, the surrounding skin irritated and angry, and slapping him between the shoulder blades would hurt like a bitch now. On the other hand, he can't very well let the guy choke, right?
He is just trying to remember how the Heimlich actually works when Steve straightens in his chair, balls his hand into a fist and delivers a very firm, very well-aimed hit to his own sternum. There’s an audible pop as something dislodges from his windpipe.
“I'm okay,” he claims, still more than a little breathlessly. “Sorry, that was- … I was just- … Are you for real?”
“I, um-” Eddie stammers. His legs feel like jelly, so he quickly falls back into his own chair. “Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to- … I just thought it was funny. How life has brought us together, here and now, when we could've known each other that much sooner. I don't necessarily believe in fate and all that shit, but it seems like a crazy coincidence.”
“Not sure about fate,” Steve says, and takes another, more careful bite of his granola bar. A smattering of crumbs is sticking to his bottom lip. “But if it's real, you should thank it. You wouldn't have wanted that.”
“To know you any earlier?”
Steve scrunches his nose, slightly annoyed, and shakes his head.
“Shut up, that's not what I meant.” He pauses, running his tongue over his lips and leaving them pink and shiny. It doesn’t get the crumbs. “You may be right, though. Not sure if you would've liked teenage me. I was a bit of a jock.”
“What, you? Shocking,” Eddie deadpans. “You grew up to be a coach. I just inked a giant baseball bat all over your back. Let's just say I had a bit of a hunch.”
Steve smiles wryly, washing down the last of his snack with a long gulp of water.
“What I’m trying to say is that you should be glad you weren’t around for- … everything. Don’t get me wrong, I love it there. It's my home, and some of the best people I’ve ever known live there, it’s just … It wasn’t a great place to be, back then. You dodged a bullet, man. A big, fat, massive one, believe me.”
In the two or three seconds of silence that follow, Eddie almost asks. About the earthquake. About the tanks and the fences and the watch towers. About the meaning behind the fresh lines on Steve’s back, that he chose to carry with him for the rest of his life. About the scars underneath.
But then Steve claps his hands and gives a sharp jerk of his chin. Eddie flinches, wondering briefly if this is how he beckons his players onto the pitch before a game.
“Okay, that’s enough for a break. Time for the home stretch, c’mon.”
“See?” Eddie grins, wheeling himself closer. “There you go with the sports metaphors again.”
Steve drifts off again after a minute or two, the deep and deliberate breaths he’s taking to guide himself through the pain slowly evening out into something slower, more shallow. When Eddie checks in the mirror, his eyes have slipped shut. Not asleep, but definitely somewhere far away. It’s for the better, probably. The tailbone is a bitch to get inked, even for people more familiar with the sensation of the needle slipping in and out of their flesh, the rattle of the machine against bone, the echo of it in one’s ribcage. And no matter the odd fascination that Eddie is developing with both the town of Hawkins and this man, who chose to spend his life there after the horrible things it did to him, it’s not his story to uncover.
Still, as he works in silence, his eyes keep travelling back to the scars on Steve’s shoulder blades, now surrounded by the outlines of the roses, waiting to be covered in vibrant reds and greens in four weeks’ time. He has seen scars like that before. On bikers who got into accidents, skin peeled right off their bones as man and machine slid over the unforgiving asphalt. On a guy, once, who got his jacket caught in the door of the school bus as a kid, and was dragged over several yards of concrete before the driver heard his screams.
He wonders how exactly Steve ended up with injuries like that in an earthquake.
The ones on his hips, too. The deep, uneven ones that look like something long and sharp and jagged dug into the flesh and tore it right out.
He bites his tongue and keeps working.
It's not like it's any of his business.
He's here to do his goddamn job, which is to make sure that Steve can look at himself in the mirror again and actually like what he sees. And digging into the wounds of the past just to satisfy his own curiosity won't help with that. Not one tiny bit.
very soon the entirety of the tumblr dashboard will be consumed by insane people being insufferable over AMC's interview with the vampire. fortunately i am one of those insane people
Thinking about the Holmes story where a blind girl goes to him and is like "My fiancé is missing and he kept telling me the week leading up to his disappearance that he would always love me and come back for me,were anything to happen so I think he knew he was in trouble and I love him so much and I'm going to wait for him but I'd like to find him faster,ya know?" And Holmes figures out that it was this girl's parents to scam her out of money she was owed from an estate which she gave to them because she was still living at home,which she wouldn't be if she ever married,so her step father PRETENDED TO DATE HER for MONTHS to keep her from ever getting engaged to a real person and when Holmes finds out he confronts this man and this man is like "Well,you caught me! But it wasn't illegal:) so:)" and Holmes is like "No,but it was sickening and cruel and if she had a brother or good male friend he should post you up and whip you but she doesn't." And the man is like "No,she doesn't." And does the Victorian version of sticking his tongue out and Holmes is like "Well,I guess I'll do then!" And HE PULLS OUT HIS HUNTING WHIP.
