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Let me see, baby.
@subeddieweek Day 3: 24/7 Dynamic
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after-the-end-times · 3 hours
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- State of Grace.
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after-the-end-times · 5 hours
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The Amazing Devil is one of my favorite bands because it feels like they LOVE words and language. They absolutely revel in the feeling of their lyrics and how the poetry just drips off your tongue, it's intoxicating
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after-the-end-times · 7 hours
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so it turns out that listening to The Amazing Devil for the first time in almost a year does actually feel a bit like coming home.
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after-the-end-times · 9 hours
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listening to the horror and the wild again. album of all time 👍
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after-the-end-times · 11 hours
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i made some collages a while ago for every era so i’m gonna post them here ♡
taylor swift (1/10)
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folklore (8/10)
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evermore (9/10)
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I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH AAAAAAH
This is so funny and the characters are awesome 🥹✨ one of my fav show
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HAPPY 1K!!!! That's SO exciting and well deserved!!
Might I humbly request a ficlet with...
Z. "You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"
and ⭐Celebrity AU
Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! 🍓
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I'm celebrating 1k followers, requests are open
Just how much I'll do
Rated: M
Words: 989
Tags: Celebrity AU, modern AU, rockstar Eddie, nepo baby Steve, fake dating, sexual tension, finger sucking, enemies to lovers
🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓
“Ah, there they are,” Eddie says. “Took them long enough.” 
Steve stops chatting with the waitress to follow his gaze. Something is glinting beyond their window, in the tiny space between two cars on the other side of the dark street. A camera. The waitress hurriedly puts down their dessert and scurries off. Steve watches her go with a disappointed frown. Using the moment of distraction, Eddie reaches out across the table and tangles their fingers together. 
The frown melts into a bitchy scowl and Steve flinches like Eddie’s hand is something gross. 
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Eddie laughs, loud and unashamed in the hushed quiet of the restaurant.
“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos. He flips their entwined hands so they’re facing the window, running his thumb over Steve’s knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion. His smile is wide and teasing as he leans over the table and into Steve’s space. “I must admit I’m a tad bit insulted. I make an effort to look nice for you, take you to the fanciest restaurant in town, and you’ve got nothing better to do than flirt with the waitress all night? Why, Stevie, do you even still love me?” 
“Quit it, Munson,” Steve snaps, trying to yank his hand away, but Eddie holds firm. A few quizzical heads turn in their direction and he’s quick to stop struggling. When he speaks again, his voice is a low hiss. “You know as well as me that this is all a publicity stunt. Don’t forget about the deal.” 
“Sure,” Eddie drawls, snatching a chocolate-coated strawberry from his plate and popping it into his mouth. The chocolate bursts between his teeth and tangy, juicy sweetness explodes all over his taste buds, making him hum in pleasure. The place may be way out of his comfort zone, markedly different from his usual dark and edgy night clubs, but at least the food is excellent. “We go on a few dates together, let our friends out there take their little photos, write their little news stories. After a few months, we break it off amicably - no hard feelings, you’ll always be special to me, yadda yadda. My label gets off my ass about my ‘out of control’ lifestyle, your old man gets to beat those completely unfounded allegations of homophobia just in time for the big election. Look how supportive he is of his queer son, after all. A true champ, a beacon of tolerance and open-mindedness, a shining example for all of us.” 
Steve, who has just taken a sip of his wine, snorts so hard, Eddie’s surprised it doesn’t come shooting out of his nose. He has a nice laugh - pretty like the rest of him, but there’s a bitter little twist to his mouth that never seems to quite disappear. Eddie catches himself wondering what his smile would look like without it. 
“Please,” Steve sneers, putting his glass back down with a bit too much force. A few drops of wine splash over the rim, staining the table cloth red. “My dad’s a bigoted old asshole and we both know it.” 
The hand that’s still tangled with Eddie’s tightens, almost painfully. A small part of Eddie imagines the things Senator Harrington must call his darling son behind closed doors. 
“Makes me wonder, though,” is what he says, “why you agreed to play along in this little farce? Why help him out if he’s such a douchebag?” 
For a second, something pokes through the facade of bored indifference on Steve’s face, something open and vulnerable and honest. Eddie wants to grab a hold of it and pull it all the way to the surface, lay it bare and never let it go again. But it’s gone as quick as it came, slipping through his fingers like mist. 
“Whatever,” Steve mutters, and the bitter curl returns to his lips. “Not like you’d get it.” 
He's right, Eddie thinks. He probably wouldn't. He hasn't seen his own sperm donor in twenty years. He doesn’t know what it's like, growing up in the shadow of an overbearing father, constantly forced to uphold your family's image, to live up to expectations. 
But something in the way Steve says it, all haughty and derisive, like Eddie isn't even worth an explanation, makes something ugly stir low in his belly. 
“Oh, I think I get it,” he says, plucking another strawberry from his plate. Steve watches with a furrowed brow how he lets it dangle between them, waving it idly about as he speaks. “I think it must be hard, constantly begging for daddy's love and acceptance, but only ever being fed the scraps. Always so eager, always so willing, but never quite good enough, you poor boy. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?” 
Steve's eyes go wide, perfect lips parting around a punched-out little sound. Eddie grins triumphantly, lifting the strawberry to his mouth. 
But he never makes it there. 
Steve surges forward, fingers closing around Eddie’s wrist. Eddie watches, heartbeat pounding in his skull, how Steve sucks the fruit into his warm, wet mouth. How pink lips slip over his fingers, all the way down to the first knuckle. Chocolate cracks and a thin rivulet of red juice trickles down Eddie's thumb. Steve darts out his tongue and catches it, never once breaking eye contact. 
“Holy shit,” someone whispers. It takes Eddie a moment to recognize his own voice. He knows it's impossible through the glass and the distance, but he swears he can hear how the camera shutter on the other side of the street goes crazy. 
Steve releases his fingers with a slick sound, tongue licking over plush lips to gather the last traces of strawberry and chocolate and Eddie still clinging to them. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, breath cool against Eddie’s wet skin. 
“Let's get outta here … and I'll show you just how much I'll do.” 
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And then they went home and had hate sex. The end.
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And there was only one bed! Happy (very late) Valentine's Day @oakenorcrist! I'm really happy with how this pinch piece for the Steddie Valentines exchange came out!
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Turning P!nk
Written for the @steddiemicrofic April prompt ‘Fool’
WC: 454 | Rating: T | CW: none | tags: and then they were roommates, friends to lovers, idiots in love, love confession (sort of), ficlet based on song lyrics
“So if you're too school for cool,
And you're treated like a fool-
Treated like a fool!”
Eddie watches as Steve, in his own world, folds laundry, singing along with one of his favourite tracks. He’s a little flat in places, probably because he’s wearing headphones, but he has a surprisingly nice singing voice, and is even doing the harmonies.
He’s bending his knees and wiggling his shoulders to the beat, but it’s when he starts swinging his hips in time that Eddie nearly loses it.
He’s the fool if he thinks he can carry on like this, sharing an apartment with his friend who he’s developed a massive crush on.
If only there was a way to tell him that didn’t involve, y’know, actually coming out and saying it…
A few weeks later Steve’s come to watch Corroded Coffin at The Hideout. He notices Eddie’s antsier than usual, hands running through and frizzing his hair, a crease between his eyebrows that Steve’s doesn’t often see. Unusually for him, he’s repeatedly checking in with the rest of the band, who are valiantly trying to chill him out, reassuring him that everything will be fine.
The gig goes really well, Eddie looking fantastic on the stage and absolutely killing it. Steve wonders whether he’ll ever get used to that. Seeing Eddie like this always makes him… feel things, things he hasn’t yet allowed himself to properly process.
Steve’s in the crowd, as usual hanging towards the back in his yellow polo so he can avoid the disparaging stares of some of the other patrons and the flailing limbs of the mosh pit.
He’s nodding his head and swaying a little, but he never lets go like he does at home.
They finish their standard set, and along with the rest of the crowd Steve claps and cheers and then starts to move away from the stage.
But to everyone’s surprise they start playing something else, Steve hearing the chords of a song he recognises.
Of course, the style is very different. It’s relentless, driving guitars and Gareth’s thumping drums, but it’s so familiar. And when Eddie starts singing, Steve can’t believe it.
“Right, right, turn off the lights,
We’re gonna lose our minds tonight,
What's the dealio?”
The band gives it their all, but Eddie especially. He’s scanning the crowd, seeking Steve, and when he sees him, laughing and dancing in the middle of the floor and smiling widely because it’s his favourite song, he smiles right back.
And at the end, where they’ve tweaked it so it’s literally just Eddie’s voice on the final two words, he sings them straight at Steve.
“Just come on and come on and, raise your glass,
For me…”
Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx
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I'll pay the price, you won't.
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。⋆˚༘✧˚。⋆old habits die screaming⋆。˚✧˚༘⋆。
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The Eras Tour (Taylor’s Version) posters I made (for each era)! Use as you wish :)
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kiss kiss fall in love
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