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#it's sad about ed hours
soapbubbles511 · 8 months
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Not to be Stede-coded, but most of my thoughts after the sneak peek clip amount to "Sorry about your toes Iggy*, but sounds like Ed's having a hard time🥺" And "Sounds like Ed could also use a hug from Fang"
Like, we already knew all that but baby is deep in his "fuck it" spiral.
Ed was already burnt out and miserable and feeling trapped when we met him. And for a minute there after he met Stede, he had hope that things could be different. That he could retire. That he could have friends. That he could explore things he actually liked and let himself enjoy softer things. Then Stede left. And Izzy made it explicitly clear that he wouldn't tolerate Ed changing.
So he went fuck it. You want me to be Blackbeard? I'll be Blackbeard. The only retirement pirates get is death anyway. Captains rule through fear and intimidation. This is how piracy has always worked. Lots of maiming and assorted violence. Lots of drinking and lets throw in some drugs. Fuck it.
None of this is really new information, but it's making me sad for Ed. Extra sad when I think about him crying with his cake topper dolls when he's alone.
*not actually that sorry about his toes
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o-wild-west-wind · 7 months
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y’all out here saying Izzy’s death made no narrative sense because it’s a comedy show clearly haven’t seen the Shakespeare post…I’m sorry I really am but death immunity only applies to the romantic leads the genre has not changed babes
(I don’t mean this to be patronizing, but genuinely: critically analyzing and engaging with art is a skill, and an important one. it’s a tool that will help you in the real world, for real current events. use this as practice not to take everything at face value. sad art does not equal bad art!)
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transjudas · 2 years
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-You want to tell me why that's all you ever cook? -It's what we can afford.
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pe0ple3ater · 2 months
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please! p l e a s e expand on any/all doied thoughts i'm so starved of content rn
I'm so out of it right now so forgive me if anything doesn't make sense. Some Doied headcanons and thoughts
He's cruel and cold and calculating. He is the opposite of Roier in many ways, but they share their tendency towards possessiveness/obsessivness. He's been watching Cellbit and Roier for so long that slipping into Roier’s position feels like second nature. He can smile at Cellbit and hold him, he can carry their children and teach them lessons. But his eyes are cold, and his smile is eerie.
He doesn't enjoy sex, not really. It's just an act to him, a means to an end. A way for Cellbit to feel connected (which, I think I posted about Cellbit and Doied angst before, but I might be crazy). He's clinical and knows everything that makes Cellbit tick.
He starts to like this life, the attention he never received but came so naturally to his brother. The kids that look up at him with admiration, the way Cellbit falls over himself for Doied, the way his body is stronger and faster than before. The way no one questions him or looks at him differently. He relaxes into it, starts to let himself feel for the people around him.
It's all ripped away from him in the end, when Cellbit finds out through a million little tells and figures out a way to bring Roier back. Doied is thrown in a makeshift jail and is left essentially to rot while his brother gets to be the hero again, gets to stand in the spotlight. Broken glasses and ripped lab coat, beaten and bloody. He sits in the darkness of a lonely cell, and Roier stands in the light, arms wrapped around his husband and sons.
Doied holds onto the memories of when he had that all for himself.
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There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.
#I think also because I'm a very nostalgic person - THOUGH not in the way that somep poeple mean when they say nostalgia because I've realiz#ed that to some people apparently it means like.. more of a sad emotional thing? Or when I talk about being nostalgic they say 'me too' and#then describe how they're always depressed dwelling on the past wishing they could revisit it and replaying it and feeling sad and etc.#Whereas for me - it's not in a deep or emotional way at all. It's very detached - kind of like someone who is doing like a scientific#cataloguing of something? I don't feel any remorse or sadness or longing or sitting there sobbing for hours over people/pets I've lost or#etc. It's more like a fun contemplative excercise and extension of self analysis plus just documentation. Like I know your memory fades as#you get older OR even as stuff is actively ongoing humans have terrible recall - even the ones who are less emotional/more focused on#accuracy our minds still twist things or etc. SO I looove to have documentations of everything possible so that in the future I will have#as full and complete of a view of myself as I possibly can. sure the image will undoubtedly be a little distorted but having real evidence#of how something was at a time is very valuable. You look through old messages or letters or something and you always find other alternate#versions of yourself. Not in a worse way like inherently inferior Previous Models Of You who haven't yet been perfected but even just in a#neutral way like 'what they're saying is not a BAd thing but also is not how I would say that today.' etc. ANYWAY I find it really interest#ing to document and remember things and love revisiting the past - not in a sad way - but just like. curiosity. reminiscing and recalling#and filling in gaps. or trying to have the same feeling I felt at a previous time so I can remember what it was. Collecting information for#documentation purposes. Like for example - I would love to go back and tour all of my old childhood houses/apartments. Not to like#sit in the middleof them and cry and go 'ohhh my childhood waughhh' - but literally because I want to take detailed photographs so I#can remeber exatly what they looked like and recreate them in sims or some other digital way. Why? idk. just to gather the information. If#I ever live to like 80 years old and I'm still reflecting on my life curious about the dteails of it. I want to be able to fire up my#ancient windows 10 laptop I've kept all these years and open up the sims 4 and tour my old home with accuracy etc. ??#Not sure why really. Maybe an extension of how I generally care a lot about having an 'accurate' view of things? Like I would rather be#accurate than be happy. I don't understand 'ignorance is bliss' because I would always rather know. I always always in any situation am mor#focused on 'what is the well researched practical truth' than about 'how does this make me feel' or etc. Truth above ALL else even if it#were to make me miserable. Aka why I'm a 'boring' 'annoying' 'UM actually..' type of killjoy lol because it's very hard for me to understan#that some people can enjoy something or have a good time even not knowing the full facts of a situation or etc. BUT anyway. since that is#some core driver of my personality for whatever reason (just the plague of ennegram type 5 perhaps lol) maybe that also drives me to my#kind of minor obsession with like 'I must have a complete view and calatoguing of my life that is as accurate as possible within the means#i have' . Is it REALLY important for me to know the exact layout of on of my first childhood bedrooms? no. materially it does nothing for m#in life. BUT hey. it would make a great addition to the Accurate Life Story Catalogue lol. ANYWAY.. But I think a lot of wanting to live in#one place forever is not just the ease of documentation. but the sense of having a constant. Much of what i crave most in life is stability#& familiarity &routine bc of how my brain works. And it just would feel so good to be Settled. Never uproot again. One little place FOREVER
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dietitian warned me the other day i may need to go inpatient if this keeps getting worse and it hasn't left my mind ever since. partly because i don't see the reason. i am literally gaining weight. and also because a non-zero part of me wants to go back inpatient and i don't know why
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widevibratobitch · 6 months
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i need to dye my hair i need to cut my hair i need to bleach my eyebrows again i need to shave them off completely i need to DO something i need CHANGE or ill go insane
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lily-blue-blue-lily · 8 months
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oh sex ed s4 is making me feel a whole lotta ways ... i am sobbing
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404ghost · 1 year
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a solid foundation is nothing without a good night's rest 😔
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success life story ♡
heyy i'm here to share about my success story, the beginning is only before i started manifesting and about when i just started, all my success are on the very end of the blog, so feel free to skip directly at it if you're not interest by all the rambling !
have a good read ☆
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michiko is so pretty, i've literally been told so many times i looked liker <3
the old story that i don’t live in anymore
okay so before i didn’t hate my life, at all, but i just found very dull and so poor of entertaining like it was just too fucking regular and repetitive.also a bit depressing. i thought of myself of such an unlucky girl before and i was like affirming all the fucking time that i was unlucky and guess what? everything really used to go the way i didn’t want it to go every single damn time and i’d be like i knew it im so unlucky boo-hoo.
same for the money i would just go every single fucking day rambling to my friends how poor i was and how i wanted money so bad and the same story every single fucking for days, weeks, months.
i really wanted a new appartement and my own room cause i used to share same room as my sister and it really was getting on my nerves, i had no privacy and place for myself. the apartment was small, my mum always kept complaining about it and then she would argue about my dad about it but the reason why we couldn’t move out despite trying for several months was cause my dad had whole lotta debts and my mom had a really low paying and hard job she was exhausted and, it was quiet hard to see them being this unhappy and they still tried their hardest to make us happy so i really wanted to get back at them.
about social life i had very few friends and barely went out, i'd say probably one time a month. and i really wanted to get that life of the party, and those big ass friends group and also i was crazy desperate about having black friends cause i am black and literally the only black out here without none of black friends and i felt pretty left out like wtf am i the only black girl with no black friends cause all of them (that's so dumb tho.. ) were friends and gets invited to the most fun hangouts and i was embarrassingly jealous of that and also complained a lot about it…and kept asking tf was wrong with me.
STRONGLY on this one : i wanted a relationship so bad and i kept hating and being sad to those couple on tiktok’s. one time i actually cried cuz i wanted a boys’s love so bad like i was craving it so bad. i was in such despair state before..cringy ahh ☠️
i used to be rlly insecure about my looks too even tho at some moments i felt more confident, i kept comparing myself and waisting dozens of minutes enumerating my "flaws ". i knew about manifestation but not really about law of assumption , for me manifesting was really all about listening to subliminals, method and scripting. we all once knew that phase yeah? i used to manifest from time to time but then would just give up again,since i was not seeing results and so on. so useful wow.and then there’s the others things like mediocre grades, poor family health, just constant tiredness and fatigue feeling,
tw : mention of being depressed,sh,ed, : felt empty like life had absolutely no meaning, suicidal thoughts, tried to end by over-consumption of medication, self-harm and bulimia, constant complaining and NEGATIVE ONLY mindset.
but now, NOW i tell you ever single thing i’ve just listed changed completely like every single damn thing i’ve just listed is no more, it’s out of the date, dead, buried and no longer existing !
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it clicked
then at some point at my life i was just like. yk what? fuck i just wanna change it all. then i really like really  got into it all over again and for good. no more 1 week i try then giving up cause i ain’t seeing no « results ».
i watched hours and hours of ppl talking about loa (i’m not saying you should do this at all it’s just that i was very under-informed and wanted to know everything about loa)on youtube, shoutout to rita kaminski and hyler who really put me into it and informed me. then i started reading neville’s pdf books, and tumblr blogs, kinda overconsuming but i liked getting myself informed.
and then that’s where everything started and that i got aware of all the power i actually hold. all the things i actually can do just cause of my mind. i wrote down all my wishes in present tense ,like every single aspect i wanted to change/have in my life. and i started fully living in the end like really got myself into and at first of course, wavering from time to time in the beginning. it was pretty easy for me since i was used to manifestation.but what i didn’t do before is persist no matter what and that’s what was really tricky for me in the beginning to persist no matter what and not just give up to bullshit 3D. but when i kept moving forward no matter the 3D and made it facts the only my 4D matters and everything has already happened, ALL and every single wish down to the last one flowed into my life. ONE by ONE every single hour of the day i would get my manifestations down to the last letter i wrote in my notes.every single thing
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success storyy
in a matter of few weeks like really 3 week-ish like- 1 month max.
starting off LUCK i’m extremely lucky now every single time i play gambling activities i win. i’ve won insane amounts at scratch cards i think i’ve won in total more than 5’000$. JUST FROM SCRATCH CARDS.and before i started i NEVER EVER WON. now whenever i play there’s not one time that i’ll win absolutely nothing even just a small prize
won huge lottery prize (from 200 to 12k the biggest i’ve won yet)
winning a gambling games, either online or dice rolling luck,bets, bingos etc.. its literally insane every one keep telling that i literally has got god’s blessing (i’m the god guys🥰)
financially freedom, my parents upgraded jobs and i’ve got lots of incomes + the money my parents give me 
all the debts my dad had, he got rid of ALL of them and when i tell you mf had a lot of em☠️
move out in a new huge ass condo which is a duplex (like really like i wrote it it’s actually scary how powerful we are..) I’VE FINALLY GOT MY OWN ROOM and we’re getting my desired furnitures and decorating the house i’m so grateful
friends and popularity i think biggest shock for me is really this. like my social life has gone from very paisible to completely fully booked and passioning life. like seriously i’ve been to more parties, concerts, birthdays, and hangouts during the last 2 weeks holidays than in my entire life
got lot of new friends, healthy relationships and quality time passed on lots of fun activities and sm memories
black groups friend. WITH AN S.so thankful to myself to be this good a manifestation i litteraly got into a black friend group of girls and i’ve never felt more at my place and understood this much. and these girls know the black group boys (when i tell you that 2y ago they were the person that i wanted to be close with so bad..also they’re really hot and funny lol)so we hung out with them and i was literally so highlighted and became pretty much friends with all of them !! 
my man. HELLO I LITERALLY MANIFESTED MY DREAM RELATIONSHIP? when i met him i didn’t actually realize right on the spot that he was exactly how i wanted him to be and reading back to when i scripted out all the things i wanted at the beginning, everything matched. he’s literally physically and mentally the man of my dream LIKE REALLY. we’re no bf and gf YET cause it’s just a little soon but we see each others super often and we have the best relationship ever i swear it’s giving wattpad. the flirting is crazyyy.
dream bod.from head to toe my desired body. heavy on the lower body all for that azz and wide hips.ive got smooth and clear skin and smell good all the time!! litteraly flawless face + got my braces which suits so much and dimples
plenty of vacations (went to ibiza, usa and dubai )
lenient parents they use to be so strict before i swear its crazy they let me go so easily now, i can hangout without asking 3 days ,like they accept even if i've gotta go in the next hour or if wanna go on trip that's in another country. i can come back home so much later too
attractive & magnetic aura + being really charismatic (everyone i met keep telling me i’ve got this thing that really makes them want me, get closer to me)
good grades without doing much
perfect self-concept - as i kept living 24/7 in the state of wish fulfilled, my self concept only got better making me really know what i’m worth and never wavering/ going back to the old story
whole ass pc set up
all of my desired skincare/makeups/shoes/clothes
and so much more...
outro
i hope y'all liked my blog and that it motivated some of you to NEVER GIVE UP cause y'all are reallyy some powerful mfs and y'all already got all of yours desires !!
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ honey kisses, shayama
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wonwoonlight · 7 months
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when you're fighting and jeonghan takes things a little too far.
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A/n: just some random words vomit. As always, idk what this is🫶🏻
You don't like fighting with Jeonghan because of obvious reasons. Then again, who actually likes fighting with their significant other?
But you don't like fighting with Jeonghan because it's eerie silence and cold shoulders. It's you two, the most hard headed people on the planet trying to outlast the other. It's a battle of pride and it always ends with you eventually giving in to his apology regardless of how upset you actually are.
Of course there are times when you're in the wrong. But you apologize pretty quickly when it's on you, unlike Jeonghan who deems it necessary to fight first and apologize later when you're even more upset than you initially were for obvious reasons.
You always give in because you love him and you don't like the fact that you're not talking to him.
Apparently, Jeonghan is a little too comfortable with that fact and he may have taken you a little for granted, pushing your buttons further even when you have sternly told him that you're not comfortable with the fact that he's meeting up with his ex-girlfriend that he dated for five long years–which is more time than the entirety of the period you've known Jeonghan to begin with.
Perhaps it comes from a place of insecurity. But the ex texts him out of nowhere at one in the morning, pretty much sober from the way she has texted him, and he’s ready to just okay-ed her invitation to join her in some pub because, apparently, she sounds sad and it seems like she needs someone to talk to. That he worries she might be by herself at this hour because, according to the information that you don't fucking need, she tends to be reckless at ungodly hours.
You offer to go with him, understanding where his worries might come from and is actually glad that he knows the world isn't kind to unsuspecting women, even more at these hours. A little proud also that he's trying to do something about it.
But Jeonghan, for some reason unknown to you, decides that you coming with him wouldn't be necessary. And the talk spirals much too far away to the point where he's annoyed and he's giving you an attitude about you not trusting him and et cetera et cetera.
"Fine." You give up, resigning yourself to the ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach. You can't even look at Jeonghan right now. You don't understand why the two of you are even fighting about this. Is it that important for him to go see his ex? Or are you really being as unreasonable as Jeonghan is trying to make you be? But you're upset and apparently that's not enough for Jeonghan to relent. "Whatever. Go if that's what you want."
"What–" He doesn't even get to finish his sentence, because you already turn away to return into your shared room, not minding whatever he might have to say. You never do this, and as much as it pains him to admit that he might've taken things a little too far, he didn't realize that it is to the point where you'll retort to this.
You don't even look up when he calls you, doesn't try to listen to whatever he has to say and simply acts like he doesn't exist. You'd usually at least react to what he has to say, but right now you don't even look like you're upset, which scares him even more.
He's been on the receiving ends of your silent treatments, which he actually admits is on him, but you would usually still look at him, still look like you're listening to him. Which is how he's always been able to make you forgive him.
He knows what to do when you're annoyed, when you're sad and upset. But this?
This is a new territory that he doesn't know how to thread. He'd usually ignore you back, a little too prideful and too childish to admit that he's wrong. But he can tell that this isn't like the usual silent treatment you've given him before.
Fine. A single word that's not fine at all and still rings in his head right now because you never sound like that.
Like you're done with him.
"Baby, please…"
You continue to ignore him, playing with your phone and obviously texting someone that he hopes isn't about him.
"I'm… I'm not going, okay? I'm sorry." He admits in record time. "I don't even… I'm sorry. I don't want to give excuses. I've upset you and I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."
Jeonghan sees your fingers pause, which at least he presumes means you're listening to him. He kneels beside you on the bed, glad that you're not rejecting his presence. He reaches for your fingers, and you let him as he cradles them inside his palms and takes a deep breath.
"Don't…" He exhales before he opens his eyes, catching yours and breathes the next words like it's a secret. "Don't let go of me?"
"What?" You ask, startled and caught off guard at the sudden change of topic. "Where did you even get the idea? Han, I'm not breaking up with you."
"You just…" You pull his fingers, asking him to sit next to you on the bed which he immediately complies to. He buries himself in your neck almost immediately, and suddenly it's you comforting him instead of the other way around. "You sound done with me and I can't get that out of my head."
You sigh, your fingers combing through his hair to calm him down.
"We'll talk about it later, okay?"
"I love you. You know that, right?"
"I love you too, Han."
He buries himself further into your embrace.
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mcdynamite · 1 year
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Eddie always tries to be as quiet as he can when he gets home from late shifts at the bar – holding his keys tightly so they don’t jangle too much and avoiding turning on lights if he can help it. Steve is usually asleep by the time he makes it home smelling of greasy bar food and whatever beer blew its keg that evening all over his uniform tee, and Eddie hates waking him. His boyfriend doesn’t get much sleep as it is. The last thing he needs is for Eddie to come tumbling through the door and interrupting the precious few hours he gets every night.
So every time Eddie gets home from work in the earliest hours of the new day, he tries to be as quiet as possible.
And every time, Steve wakes up anyways.
Contrary to what most people might assume, it’s actually not Eddie’s fault that Steve can never sleep through his homecomings. (Years of living in a thin-walled trailer with a man who worked nights and slept during the days made him a master of moving stealthily through his home, after all.) It’s just that Steve Harrington is the lightest sleeper who’s ever lived.
According to Steve, he wasn’t always this way – he used to sleep through alarm clocks and his mother banging on his bedroom door to get him up for school, when he was younger. No, the light sleeper thing didn’t start until after Steve learned that monsters were real, and it only got worse after Upside Down Part 2: Electric Boogaloo, when suddenly he had a whole troupe of children to worry about all night. Every little creak of the floorboards could be a demogorgon, or a preteen in need of help fighting off a pack of demodogs. Faint police sirens in the distance could be headed to Steve’s house, where some uniformed cop would come knock on the door and tell him that something had happened to one of the kids.
It sounds like a nightmare, in Eddie’s opinion – not being able to sleep more than a handful of hours a night – but Steve always shrugs it off, like he’s already gotten so used to it that he hardly notices it anymore, and Eddie thinks that might be the case. It makes him feel horribly guilty (and maybe a little sad) whenever Eddie is the cause of Steve’s late-night wakefulness, but despite his desire for his boyfriend to get the sleep he needs, Eddie can never quite force himself to be too upset whenever Steve stirs as Eddie tiptoes into their shared bedroom.
Because sleepy Steve Harrington is, frankly, infuriatingly adorable, and tonight is no exception.
He hears, rather than sees, Steve wake up in the darkness of their room. It starts with a little snuffle, then a rustling of bedsheets, and finally – like always – a gravelly, endearingly hopeful, “Eds?”
Eddie’s heart warms in his chest, melting away the ice left there by a long shift dealing with drunk idiots and coworkers who would rather bitch about their jobs than actually do them. His job is exhausting at the best of times, and downright soul-sucking at the worst, but it’s okay, because at least at the end of the day, he gets to come home to this.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he sighs tiredly, ignoring the part of him that balks at being foiled again in his quest to let Steve get some sleep. Carefully, he toes off his shoes and makes his way to the edge of the bed so he can brush a few messy strands of hair from Steve’s forehead.
Steve instantly tilts his head to press into the touch, and Eddie can’t help but smile. “Wha’time s’it?” Steve slurs.
Eddie glances at the clock on their bedside table and nearly winces when he sees just how late it is. “Almost two,” he murmurs guiltily. He can see Steve’s mouth turn down into a frown now that his eyes have adjusted to the lack of light.
“S’late,” Steve mumbles. He rolls onto his side and reaches blindly for Eddie, hand eventually wrapping around Eddie’s bony wrist and squeezing gently in a mostly subconscious show of sympathy. His eyes blink open – bleary and unfocused – and scan over Eddie’s face. “Everything ‘kay?” Even half-asleep, he’s a worrier. Eddie finds it both endearing and a little heartbreaking.
He smiles, despite himself, and begins to card his fingers through Steve’s sleep-mussed hair, an unbearably fond feeling settling in his belly when Steve lets his eyes flutter shut again. “Yeah, sweetheart, everything’s fine,” he assures his tired boyfriend. “Just a long night. Pacers game a few blocks down, y’know? Spent a whole extra hour after close catching up on bar dishes.”
Steve furrows his brow and makes a discontented noise. “Gross,” he mutters, and Eddie huffs out a laugh. God, he is so stupidly in love with this beautiful, bitchy man.
“Very,” he hums in agreement.
“Y’should come to bed,” Steve says, and his voice is almost whiny, just like it always is when he tries to coax Eddie into their bed without a proper shower. He does it almost every night, and it almost never works. It’s certainly not going to work tonight, with Eddie smelling of shitty beer and grease.
“In a bit,” Eddie sighs, bending to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Gotta shower first.”
Steve properly whines at that, petulantly mumbling something incoherent.
“Baby, I’m covered in Miller and fryer grease. Do you really want me getting that shit all over our pillowcases?” Eddie says fondly.
“I want you to come cuddle with me,” Steve grumbles.
It takes more effort than is probably reasonable for Eddie to stifle the cackle threatening to burst from his chest. “In a few minutes, ‘kay? Just gonna go wash off real quick, and then I’ll come cuddle, you needy little bastard.”
“You’d better,” Steve says not at all threateningly. Eddie just laughs and kisses his forehead again before dragging himself away and into their little apartment bathroom for a quick shower. There’s a ninety percent chance Steve will be asleep again by the time Eddie makes it into bed, in ten minutes, so he can’t really bring himself to feel too guilty.
Still, true to his word, he showers quickly – rinsing all of the greasy smell out of his hair and scrubbing the spilled beer from his skin. He uses the bergamot soap Steve got him for Christmas, because he knows Steve likes it, and Eddie likes when Steve likes things. (And he’ll never admit this, but he doesn’t hate the smell of bergamot, either.)
When he’s finished, he quickly towels himself off and slips on the pair of plaid boxers Steve left out on the bathroom counter for him earlier (just one of those little, caring things that Steve does every day that make Eddie love him all the more). He plaits his wet curls so he doesn’t wake up with hair worse than Doc from Back to the Future, then he finally, finally, makes his way to bed.
Steve’s breathing is a slow, steady rhythm, but the way he instantly shifts closer to Eddie the moment he climbs into bed is a clear indicator that he hasn’t quite managed to fall back to sleep yet. Eddie has hardly had a chance to pull the covers up before Steve is pushing back into him, silently demanding the safety of his arms.
Eddie is all too happy to oblige.
It’s automatic and achingly familiar when Eddie rolls onto his side and wraps his arms around Steve, pulling his boyfriend close so Steve’s back is pressed to his front. Even then, it doesn’t seem to be close enough for Steve, who wiggles back even further until it nearly becomes impossible to tell where he ends and Eddie begins. It’s so disgustingly sweet that Eddie sort of wants to cry. Instead, he buries his nose in the crook of Steve’s neck and leaves a soft kiss just behind his ear.
“Hi, baby,” Eddie breathes as Steve rests one of his hands atop the one Eddie has tucked under his side and laces their fingers together. He leans forward slightly to kiss Steve’s cheek, just because he can, and before he can pull away to settle against the pillow, Steve turns his head to capture Eddie’s lips in a soft, barely-there kiss. The kind of kiss that instantly settles even the most frantic parts of Eddie’s soul.
“Hey,” Steve murmurs, lips still brushing together, and Eddie can both hear and feel the way his mouth has curved upwards into a smile. Eddie gives him one more peck on the lips before they both fall into their pillows again. “Missed you,” Steve whispers. It makes Eddie smile and shake his head with tired amusement.
“Missed you, too,” he whispers, even though it’s only been ten or so hours since they last saw each other. Christ, when did he become such a goddamn sap?
(He knows the answer to that question, obviously. Eddie “The Freak” became Eddie “The Sap” the first time Steve Harrington looked at him with that secret little smile on his face – the one he reserves for Eddie and Eddie alone, these days. The one that silently says, I love you.)
Steve hums contentedly and snuggles deeper into Eddie. God, he’s so fucking sweet like this. Eddie loves him so fucking much.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, moving his free hand to run his fingers through Steve’s hair, because he knows it helps his baby sleep.
Steve’s voice is already sleepy again when he murmurs, “’kay,” and then, even softer: “Love you.”
Eddie smiles. Holds Steve just a little bit tighter. Gives Steve’s hand an extra little squeeze and marvels at the fact that after everything – after murder accusations and monsters and government payouts and three fucking years as a senior at Hawkins High – he gets to have this. And sure, maybe he’s feeling a little extra sappy because of the simple ring he’s got buried in his guitar case – the one Robin helped him pick out just a few days ago, even though they can’t technically get married in the state of Indiana. Maybe that’s why he smiles a bit wider tonight with Steve in his arms…why his heart thumps a bit harder at every sleepy snuffle his boyfriend makes…
But the sappiness stopped bothering him a long time ago, when his sharpest edges were sanded out by the presence of the little family he found in the aftermath of the Upside Down, so Eddie doesn’t mind. Soon, he’ll be able to fall asleep next to his fiancé, instead of his boyfriend. They’ll get to call all of their adoptive rugrats and tell them the news, and Steve will be beaming so brightly it might just blind him. And it’ll be perfect.
For now, Eddie just lets himself sink into the warmth of having Steve Harrington in his arms.
And he sleeps.
This is for @steddie-week Day 5: Established Relationship. Just a little ficlet that popped into my head at literally 2 in the morning. I hope y'all enjoy!
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chelseeebe · 4 months
Text
there’s a honey
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title based on there’s a honey - pale waves
i would give you my body but am i sure that you want me?
the one where eddie’s probably in love with you and yet you can’t even be seen in public with him.
kinda really angsty and sad i’m sorry
18+. mdni. smut. r is kinda very mean to poor eds here, maybe there’s a ltitle redemption/hope at the end.. who knows. modern au i guess.
eddie’s not supposed to be doing this, your number had been deleted and he knows he should’ve just let it ring out.
but he’d recognised those last three digits and hadn’t be able to help himself. at least this time he’d let it ring out a couple of times before picking up.
and now here he was, hand fisting your shirt, pulling it tight around your waist as he slams his hips against your doughy ass, the bed frame matching his pace as it slams against the wall.
he felt terrible.
chrissy was probably somewhere across campus waiting for him to text back while he was here, balls deep in the girl he’d sworn off last week.
they weren’t together, he’s not even sure if they’re talking but he knew he at least liked her. thought she was cute and not mean to him, but truthfully, she’s not you. she’s never going to be you.
and he’s not stupid enough to think that while you’re still in his life, they could ever be anything.
nobody else that he had ever had sex with had ever felt like this, not that it were a long list of people but still. he thinks that’s what keeps him coming crawling back every single time.
“oh my god,” you whine, arms collapsing underneath you as you fall into the mattress. moving back against him in unison, his palm coming to slap your ass, his handprint lingering.
he takes that as a sign to keep going, slamming into you with such ferocity that the sound echoes through the tiny room. the wooden bed frame close to smashing through the drywall.
“fuck,” he grunts, keeping his grip tight on your shirt, “you feel so fucking good,” unable to contain his babbles. breath becoming laboured as you squeeze around him.
your noises are muffled, face pressed into the blanket as you incoherently mumble what he thinks is his name. he can tell you’re close just by the way you’re breathing. he’s had years of experience, learnt every trick in the book to get you there before he was.
he lands another smack to your ass before pressing his chest to your back, lips sloppily connecting to the back of your neck, pressing you further into his rocking bed.
this new position allows him deeper, nudging himself against your sweet spot, just about able to keep his body hovering over yours.
“shit.. i’m close eds don’t stop,” you whine breathlessly but he already knows that. can feel himself teetering on the edge though it is absolutely necessary that you go first.
“i know.. i know,” he pants, sweaty body melting together as his pace falters, giving you everything he had for the last however many seconds.
your legs begin to shake from underneath him, fist balling his tousled bedsheets while his name falls from your lips like some kind of prayer. eddie will never tire of hearing you whine and cry his name nor the way you clench around him, turning to mush right before his eyes.
it’s the only time you’re ever soft, malleable even.
“that’s it,” he soothes, open mouth pressed to your clammy skin, hand finding your hand and resting his palm on your white knuckles as he topples over.
“fuck.. oh fuck,” he pants, slamming into your quivering cunt, painting your walls with his load, his forehead falling to the skin between your shoulder blades, head spinning a hundred miles an hour.
his arms let out, collapsing on top of you, breathing into the crook of your neck as he regains any sort of semblance of control. he eventually rolls off, outstretched on the tiny slither of bed as you come to.
“jesus,” he weeps, pulling his boxers back up around his waist, the elastic dealing a harsh snap to his skin.
you don’t honour his words with a reply, turning to lean back against the pillow, readjusting your t-shirt. you’d be off soon, he can sense it. not so long ago, you’d maybe stay the night but now it was out of the question.
eddie misses it dearly, maybe it was his fucked up way of playing make-believe for a little while but he missed it nonetheless.
“you going to tina’s party?” he asks from the pillow, eyes narrowed as you shift around.
“yeah i think so,” you shrug, readjusting your bra straps. you’re itching to leave, christ, you won’t even entertain him with a little pillow talk now.
“who’re you going with?”
you sigh, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, not willing to entertain this conversation, “i’m not sure yet,” grabbing your discarded clothes with a haste.
“why don’t we just go together?” he asks, knowing that it’ll probably push you over the edge. he can’t help himself, has never been able to understand why you’re so evasive about your relationship.
“oh my god eddie,” you frown before slipping into the connected bathroom, eddie jumps up from the bed, he’s not gonna let you run away from him again.
“oh so you are still doing this?” eddie asks, following you into the bathroom. he stands in the doorway, watching as you comb your fingers through your hair.
“doing what?”
“pretending that you don’t want me,” he pokes his finger into his temple, “playing your weird fucking game that nobody else understands,” he should stop there, but he doesn’t, “you know, nobody cares if you fuck the freak, we’re in college now, right? you’re the only one that gives a shit,” it’s truly cathartic to get it all out but he knows he’s going to regret it.
“what?” you mutter, speechless. confused why he’d just unloaded all of this onto you seemingly out of nowhere. spinning on your heel to face him, still half-dressed and disheveled.
“you heard me. and you know what? maybe i understood why you didn’t want anyone to know in high school but we’re adults now, you can’t pretend that you’re still worried about people finding out,” the scowl deep-set and unbudging on his lips.
“well i don’t want you eddie,” your face turning sour, jabbing your finger into his chest. “maybe you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that this- the sex, means more than it does, but it doesn’t,” you’re angry now, he’s got you riled up, exactly how he wanted, “i don’t care if you’re a nerd or you play board games or whatever the fuck it is that you do, i just don’t want anyone to know that i’m fucking you.”
your words are bitter, sharp even. slicing through his chest with harsh force. it’s not true, he knows that much. it’s no secret that you do care about that shit, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the years.
he just can’t understand why you still think anybody else cares. everybody’s too busy to give a shit about outdated cliques and who’s fucking who. it’s your worst-kept secret anyway, by the end of the night you were always hanging off of his arm or pulling him out of whichever bar you’d both coincidentally fallen into.
“you’re a liar,” eddie bites, levelling his eyes to yours, “even you don’t believe that,” he steps closer, brows knitted together as you rage on.
“fuck you,” you spit, deciding to do something he could’ve never expected. smashing your lips to his, it’s a short, passionate kiss, your fingers twisting into his shirt before he pushes you off.
“you’re fucked in the head,” he utters, voice full of sorrow. he pities you, truly. because he knows that if you’d just shake whatever weird self-doubt you still carried, that the two of you could be good together.
you push past him, pulling your jeans on as you grab the rest of your belongings. you’ve done this before, plenty of times. stormed out of here because eddie had asked you a question you didn’t like, only to call him up next weekend begging for his attention.
and he gave it, time and time again.
at your mercy, completely.
it’s the only way he’d known, not enough self-respect to end it completely. and even now, when it feels different, permanent somehow, he knows you’ll be back.
“don’t call me again,” eddie calls out, still lingering in the doorway, “i mean it, delete my number, block me, whatever. just don’t fucking come back,” his arms folded over his chest, like he meant it this time.
“oh i won’t, don’t worry,” turning to face him one last time, eyes full of spite before you disappear into the hallway, not for the last time.
-
unbelievably, the two of you had gone weeks of no-contact.
not even a drunken text to lure him over. nothing. nada. zilch.
eddie had taken that as a sign and asked chrissy if she wanted to go to the party together, at least this time he hadn’t been met with slamming doors and a screaming match.
she’d helped him do his makeup, dotted fake blood around his mouth and made them take a picture for her instagram, an incredibly foreign experience to what he’d ever had with you.
you’d taken selfies before, stupid ones that never saw the light of day. lounging in bed with a joint hanging out of your lips, refusing to ever send them to him incase he did something unthinkable. like post them or dare show anyone.
he shakes his head as if to rid his brain of the memory, trying to zone in on whatever bullshit chrissy’s friend heather was droning on about. he can’t focus, not when he knows you’re here.
see, it’s different when you’re apart. he can compartmentalise you, all of your memories, bury you in the back of his brain and enjoy the time he had with chrissy. it’s like you’ve infected him, weaving your web throughout his mind.
eddie’s phone buzzes in his pocket, pulling him out of the hole he’d burrowed himself into.
those familiar three digits flash across the screen.
bathroom 5 mins
he hasn’t even seen you yet, not that he had been keeping an eye out (he had). he shifts over from where he and chrissy sat squished on the couch, too engrossed in the conversation to have seen his phone.
“i’m just gonna go to the bathroom,” he smiles, guilt running through his veins, “get me another beer?” using that as an excuse to not do anything stupid.
though he knows himself, knows you too and most certainly knows that won’t happen.
“okay,” she grins, none the wiser, making him feel so much worse. her halloween costume was completely different to anything you’d ever worn, opting for a cute little rabbit as opposed to the ridiculously sexy getup you usually had on.
he wonders what you’ve chosen for this year, what low-cut, revealing outfit will have him on his knees, regretting his decisions this time around.
there are hoards of people everywhere, crowding the hall as he tries to shuffle through, not even bothering to knock as he reaches the bathroom.
he slips inside, quickly locking the door behind him as you sit perched against the sink. he was right. you’re in some tiny red dress, horns adorning your head. it’s fitting, really.
“so you didn’t block me,” you state, smug as shit as you lean against the white porcelain.
eddie just rolls his eyes, “is that all you wanted to say?” his hand already clamped around the door handle. it’s an empty threat, he’s not going without a fight, or a kiss, but probably both.
you bite down onto your bottom lip, the red lipstick already slightly smudged, “i missed you,” squeezing the words out, as if they physically hurt to verbalise.
“me? or my dick?”
“can’t it be both?” you smirk, pushing yourself from the sink to near him.
“not if you’re lying about the first one,” keeping his head stood tall, not letting his gaze wander, no matter how much he wanted to peer down your dress.
“i’m not,” placing your hand on his chest, looking at his lips rather than his eyes, “you didn’t miss me?”
you’re so.. so terrible. for him. as a person. whichever.
because he knows that you know he can’t resist. all you have to do is bat your eyelashes and speak softly to him and he’s right back at your feet. eddie wants to be stronger this time. to turn around and march out of here with his dignity still in tact.
but then your hand creeps lower, fingernails dragging down his unbuttoned shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake and he knows he’s fallen for it again.
“of course i did,” he whispers, barely audible because even he doesn’t want to hear it.
“who’s that girl you’re with?” you question, fingers lingering at his belt buckle, gaze flickering between his eyes and his parched lips.
“chrissy,” he feels like a dick for even speaking her name right now.
“she’s cute. she your girlfriend now?” teasing him, drawing a line down to his crotch your finger.
his breath hitches in his throat, wetting his lips, “no.. she’s- uh,” stuttering when your palm meets his dick, already rising in his pants.
“she’s what?” grinning devilishly, hah.
“she’s waiting for me,” he chokes out, just about remembering that he’d asked her for another beer.
“why don’t you run along back to her then?” knowing full well that he wouldn’t. couldn’t even.
the words tangle in his throat, coming out in a squeak, “tell me- tell me that this is just sex and i will,” finding a spurt of courage from somewhere deep within.
you don’t reply, keeping a firm hand on his shifting jeans, “eddie,” more as a warning than anything else.
“or tell me you want me,” swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, “and i’ll stay,” he’s pathetic, begging for an inch of your love, just a little of your heart.
“i can’t.. i can’t be who you want me to be,” you choke, dropping your palm from his zipper, hanging limp as you back away.
“why?” reeking of desperation, pitying himself more than you ever could, “i don’t.. i don’t understand,” the party bounces on outside and eddie can’t think of anything worse than having to go back out there with teary eyes and a tent in his jeans.
you turn away from him, keeping your palms pressed to the porcelain as you stare into the basin, “why don’t you just leave? i’m not going to have this conversation with you again,” point blank refusing to even look at him anymore.
eddie scoffs, swallowing his despair to make one last statement, “you’ve ruined my life,” choking back his cry before swinging the door open, elbowing his way through the crowd.
he pushes past drunk assholes until he reaches the front door, storming out onto the sidewalk, gasping as the fresh air hits his nose. all he wants is to scream, or puke or maybe both. he can feel the eyes of concerned partygoers as he stumbles out onto the street.
everything sounds weird, metallic like ringing through his ears until a familiar voice calls out from the doorway.
“eddie?”
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my sister: make sure that before you go back to uni you look properly into their disability support scheme and register for it
me: *looks it up* *sees I would likely qualify for support for at least a couple of things* *sees eating disorders are not listed*
me: :(
so in other news i am currently feeling shockingly crushed by that for some reason
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silent-stories · 1 year
Text
𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄
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Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Eddie has to meet your parents and he really wants them like him. That's why, for the first time, he's trying to be someone he's not.
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The trailer was calm and silent and night had already fallen for several hours but Eddie seemed to find no peace, tossing and turning in his bed, next to you.
"Ed?" You whispered, reaching out a hand towards him and resting it on his shoulder trying to somehow calm him down with just your touch. "Are you okay?"
Eddie turned to you, resting his head on the pillow and staring at you with his big brown eyes that glittered in the dark. "Yeah. Just..." He paused emitting a sigh. "It doesn't really matter."
"It matters if it worries you enough to not let you sleep." You brushed a strand of his messy hair out of his face before speaking again, your tone was kind and calm. "Talk to me, please."
"I'm just nervous." He muttered.
You thought about whether he had any important tests in the next few days. "Nervous about what?"
"For tomorrow night." He admitted before closing his eyes like he was accepting defeat and sinking the side of his face into the pillow a bit more.
You finally understood. The following day, Eddie was coming to your house for dinner to meet your parents, and although he'd been trying to hide his anxiety all day, he was finally admitting his fears.
"What if they don't like me?" He murmured as you leaned in to drop a few comforting kisses on his cheek. "What if they hate me and decide they don't want you to stay with a freak like me anymore?"
"Hey, stop." You said before planting another kiss on his temple causing Eddie to chuckle. "They are gonna like you. They are gonna absolutely love you, okay?"
"How do you know that?" His hand was slowly caressing your back, his arm encircling your waist keeping you close to him.
"Because I like you and absolutely love you."
Eddie sighed. "I don't know..." He wasn't referring to the sincerity of your feelings but to the possible reaction of your parents.
"I do" You said, sure. "Eddie, you are lovely, kind, funny and sweet. They'll see that, trust me."
Eddie stayed silent for a moment, you could hear an owl hooting through the thin glass of the window of his room.
"I'm scared." He said finally, his gaze meeting yours again.
A sad smile appeared on your face. "My boy." You whispered as you pushed him towards you, making him rest his head on your chest. "It's okay, baby. They'll like you, I promise."
Eddie slowly nodded, now it was your time to run your hand up and down his back, between his shoulder blades, to reassure him.
After less than twenty minutes, he fell asleep and a light snore coming out of his mouth from time to time.
You, unlike Eddie, weren't nervous about the meeting with your parents because everything you said to reassure Eddie was true: you'd told your parents so much about him that it was as if they already knew him and when you described him to them you always talked about how he really was, how you saw him and not what other people thought of him.
They really wanted to meet him for the first time and already loved him. To them, he was part of the family just like you were to Uncle Wayne.
Finally, you fell asleep too.
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Eddie paced nervously up and down his room, occasionally glancing at the clock. He had to be at your place in two and a half hours, his hands were already sweating and the floor was covered with possible clothes to wear which he couldn't decide between.
He was grateful that the night before you had tried to reassure him saying that your parents would love him, but his mind was still clouded with hundreds of doubts and fears.
Try as you might, you couldn't really understand how he felt.
Eddie had been there before. Whenever he went to his friends' house when he was younger, when their parents saw the way he dressed, when they listened to the music Eddie liked, when they found out his father was in jail and Eddie would probably become like him.
Each time his friends said their parents didn't want Eddie to come back, sometimes they said they didn't want their kids to be friends with someone like that anymore.
Eddie walked over to the nightstand and took off his rings and the chain bracelet on his wrist, the skull and the cross clattered against each other as they fell on the wood of the nightstand.
Then, with a towel found in the bathroom, he removed the remnants of the black polish on his nails, a slight smile appeared on his lips at the memory of when, a week before, you had painted his nails leaving a kiss on every knuckle.
For once he just wanted to be liked. He didn't want them to think he was weird, that he was someone you needed to stay away from.
He dropped the chain with the pick next to the rings and took off the Black Sabbath shirt he was wearing, leaving it in the pile of clothes next to the bed.
Eddie was just so scared. He was scared that when they saw him they'd look at him with the same expression everyone looked at him at school, with the same expression Jason Carver had when he yelled "freak" at him every time he purposely bumped into him in the hallway.
He was afraid of losing you.
Eddie put on a shirt that covered up any tattoos on his arms and then pulled his hair up like he's never done before. He removed the skull bandana he kept in his back pocket, his chain and his belt.
He looked in the mirror wondering who the person in the reflection was.
It wasn't himself and he didn't like him.
But maybe your parents would have done it.
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When Eddie knocked at your door and your mom went to open, you almost didn't recognize him.
He was wearing a white shirt that you've never seen before, not even in his closet, so it must have been something Wayne wore when he was young or a new purchase, and light blue jeans, probably the only pair he owned that weren't ripped.
It was weird not to see him wearing at least one black thing and without a shirt of some metal band.
"It's so nice to finally meet you!" Your mom smiled shaking his hand and letting him into the house.
When he introduced himself saying his name was "Edward" you didn't know whether to burst out laughing or yell at him.
"You are not what I imagined." Your father commented.
"I could say the same." You said through your teeth, staring at him in disbelief.
He wasn't your Eddie.
It wasn't the first time he'd wore his hair up, sometimes you even styled them that way when he asked you to but this time there wasn't even a hair out of place or a strand sticking out of his bun.
His hand felt almost naked, without rings and bracelets.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." He said, politely.
He was too composed. Too fake.
He didn't talk much during dinner and it wasn't like him. Every time you went to eat with him and Wayne, Eddie was always talking about everything that was on his mind, ideas for his next campaign, songs he was writing and books he planned to read.
This time, he was so quiet it was almost scary.
He wasn't your Eddie.
And the fact that, for the first time, he was trying to be different than who he really was just to please your parents was heartbreaking.
Halfway through dinner you decided you'd had enough and suddenly leapt out of your chair. "Eddie, we need to talk."
He looked at you with the expression of a child who gets caught doing something he shouldn't do, before following you into your bedroom, his head lowered so as not to meet your parents' gaze.
You closed the door behind you, finally finding yourself alone with Eddie.
"So... what the fuck is that?" You asked as Eddie sat on the edge of your bed with a sigh.
"That what?" He mumbled, but he knew what you were referring to.
"All of that." You pointed to his entire body with your hand and he ducked his head, embarrassed and dejected.
"I just wanted to make them like me." He whispered as you crouched down in front of him so you could see his face, placing a hand on his knee. "For once I wanted them to accept me and not think there is something wrong with me. I was afraid that after seeing me they would have told you to stay away from someone like me. Please don't me mad at me."
"Eddie, I'm not mad at you, I could never be mad at you... but this is not the guy I fell in love with." You waited a moment for a reaction from him that didn't come, then you continued talking. "I fell in love with a guy who's always talking, who sometimes even yells beacuse he's so passionate about what he's talking about. A guy who wears bands t-shirts and would rather be burned alive than conform to the crowd. Of a guy who's trying to save money to get another tattoo, not trying to hide the ones he already has by wearing long sleeves."
Eddie remained silent, you reached out your arm and, when your hand found the back of his head, you loosened his hair which fell over his shoulders in a cascade of brown curls.
"I fell in love with a sweet boy that is also a mess. And doesn't try to be perfect to please others."
You ran your fingers through his hair, making it regain its usual volume.
When he finally looked up and met your gaze, you placed your hands on the sides of his face and your thumbs caressed his cheeks.
"Whoever was that guy who walked through my door tonight, he wasn't my Eddie. The serious, composed guy who barely said a word during dinner was not my Eddie."
That was the first moment his lips hinted at a smile.
"Eddie, I love you. I love you because you are you."
He placed a hand on your back and gently pushed you towards him, making your lips meet in a way that said "I love you too", dropping you onto the bed almost on top of him, causing you both to chuckle against each other's mouths.
"I'm sorry" he whispered, you could feel his breath on your skin. "I ruined everything."
"You didn't ruin anything." You reassured him. "Just my sight when you showed up with that awful bun." You added jokingly, bringing your hand to play with his locks.
Eddie laughed, lying on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. You lay down next to him.
"Really, they already like you anyway. I talk about you all the time it's is almost annoying."
"Really?"
"Really."
"So can we do it again?"
"Do it again?" You raised your eyebrows.
"I have my real clothes in the car."
"No way."
He chuckled. "I was unsure until the last moment. I have everything in the car, leather jacket, Black Sabbath t-shirt, chains, rings. Everything."
"Get the fuck out of here and change your clothes!" You pushed him out of bed as he burst out laughing.
God, you loved that sound.
"Do you want me to change in the car? Do you want to expose me to the possibility of your neighbors seeing how handsome your naked boyfriend is?"
You huffed. "I'll go get your damn clothes." You got out of bed, gesturing at the shirt she was wearing. "You can burn those."
You crossed the dining room, heading to Eddie's van when you stopped to notice your parents were giving you a questioning look.
"I'm going to get his real clothes and then we'll do it all over again, okay?"
They looked at each other for a moment without understanding but then nodded.
Before leaving, you stopped again.
"And for the love of God, call him Eddie."
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When he came back to your parents, finally looking like your Eddie, you were holding his hand. He hadn't asked you to do it but you knew he needed it at that moment because as soon as your palm met his, his fingers immediately intertwined with yours.
"Oh, now you look so much more like the guy my daughter is always telling me about!" Your mom commented when she saw him standing in the dining room.
She was not mad, she was not disappointed. Eddie hinted a smile.
He shook hands with your parents for the second time that night. "Eddie Munson, I'm an idiot and I don't know how I ended up with a wonderful girl like your daughter."
You all laughed and you kissed his cheek.
That was definitely your Eddie.
He sat at the table, he still had a dessert to eat and a lot of things he wanted to talk about.
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Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon
1K notes · View notes
mrsrdlw · 3 months
Text
Insecurities…
warnings: problems with body image; angst; caring!boyfriend!eddie (the sweetest guy in the world); fluff; he makes sure you understand that he doesn’t care how your body looks, you’ll always be the prettiest girl he has ever seen.
that’s a bit short i know. but i had this draft for a while and i wanted to post it. i just love the idea of eddie comforting the reader. at least i genuinely think that he would always try his best to make you feel better if you’re not or make you laugh when you need to. HE IS THE BEST!!!
******
“Sweetheart, are you still doing you makeup thing? Because if you’re ready, we have to leave.” He knocked on the door hoping he was not using a tone that seemed like he was rushing you. He knew better. You were in your house, getting ready to go to one of the famous Steve Harrington’s parties.
You were in your room for hours, at least that’s how Eddie felt. He wasn’t the most patient person ever, but you were taking too long. Longer then you normally take. Little Eddie knew that you were sobbing in front of the mirror for 20 minutes by now. You tried your hardest not to cry. That seemed only to make things worse. Now you were miserable, mascara all over your cheeks, red eyes and nose, freaking out. Fuck! What were you supposed to do. You forgot that you also had to deal with your boyfriend. So you cleared your throat, trying to sound chill so he could just give you a minute.
“Hey Ed, just give me a minute ‘kay? i’m almost done-“ You were cleaning your face when he cut you, opening the door to your room. “Eddie!”
“What happened?” How did he knew? you thought to yourself. Like he read your mind, he answered “i heard your crying voice. Do you need something, baby?”
“No sweetie, i just-“ You looked at you reflection in the mirror again. He gave this dress to you as a valentine’s present. According to him, he wanted to see you even more hot. The dress was extremely pretty. It was a dark green dress, tight on the waist. But for some stupid reason, you thought you looked… not extremely pretty in it. “Do you think i look too fat in this?”
“Babe, why would you even say that?” He looked concerned when your eyes locked with his and the tears started to stream down again. “No no no, i’m so sorry i said that. I meant like, you’re not fat, not at all.”
He opened his arms welcoming you to a tight hug. He knew that sometimes you would compare yourself to models and singers you liked. Or even the Hawkins High Cheerleaders. And they were all very skinny. Eddie was pretty sure that some girls of the last group didn’t even eat right. But he could not stand that you couldn’t see yourself the way he did. To him, of course you were so much more than your body, but if he was talking body, you were the whole package. Always kind to the ones you loved, funny, making him laugh so much sometimes, he would have to pee, AND your sexy smokin’ hot body.
“You know me angel, i would never care only with your body. I’m not dating you because of your body” He separated from your hug to wipe your tears and placed his hand on your cheek. “I love you, this person inside here” he placed the other hand right up your heart. “And really, I, Edward Munson, think you are perfect, inside and outside. And i know i can’t make you just forget about this angst your feeling right now, but i need you to know that. That you are beautiful. And still, you have so much more. Honestly lady, i could keep going for hours.” seeing you smile at him, made him feel a bit better. He hated seeing you sad about this shit.
“Can i kiss you?” He asked. You were sensitive and he didn’t want to push things
“Of course you can.”
You always loved the way he made you feel safe. His arms around you and his soft lips pressing into yours, kissing you so tenderly. It almost felt like you were never sad.
“I’m sorry-“ You whispered, still close to his lips, caressing his chest but he kissed you again.
“Don’t say sorry for feeling things. I just hope you’re feeling better. If you don’t want to go to the party anymore that’s totally fine too!”
“No! I want to go. Just give a minute to fix this mess” You pointed to your face and started to clean it with a tissue. He was smiling at you now, sitting on your bed, he whispered to himself “That’s my girl”.
In 5 minutes you were ready. Eddie was a little scared by the way you made it look like you never cried.
“I’m better now, thanks Eddie. What would i do without you?” You took his hand in yours, ready to leave the room.
“Oh please baby, that’s what you deserve. I only work with princess treatment here. Now turn around, let me see you.” Giggling a bit, you did as he said “Yeah, we’re good to go, my love. After you” He gave you the space to leave the room first, extending his arm dramatically.
“I love you so much!” It was the only thing you could say now.
“And i love you more!”
*****
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