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engie-ivy · 4 months

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Merry Christmas everyone!🎄

1365 words.

“Well, I've never decided that I wanted to stop seeing him!” Hope says defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. “That he's no longer a part of your life doesn't mean he should no longer be a part of mine.”

“He's my ex!” Remus exclaims. “You're my mother! That's exactly what it means!”

Wonderful Once Upon a Time

Make It To Christmas - Alessia Cara

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?”

Hope Lupin freezes from where she had been sneaking into the house. No, not sneaking. It's her own house after all. Just walking. Inconspicuously. Without making any sound. Trying to not get noticed.

The last part clearly didn't work, as Remus is sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed over his chest, giving his mother a stern, but also slightly smug, look.

“Remus!” Hope says, just a tad too high-pitched. “Oh my, you startled me.” She lets out a very unconvincing laugh.

Remus just arches an eyebrow. “Where have you been?”

“Oh,” Hope says, trying (and most likely failing) to sound casual. “I was just visiting your auntie Joy.”

“Is that so?” Remus asks slowly.”How strange. Auntie Joy called about an hour ago to tell you she isn't making the Christmas pudding this year. Now, why would she call here to talk to you while you're over there?”

Hope makes an awkward chuckling sound. “Did I say aunt Joy? Silly me, I meant aunt Faith!”

“Oh,” Remus says in a light voice that really should've alarmed her. “How did you like her big Christmas tree?”

“Oh, yes, it's lovely, very lovely,” Hope replies quickly.

“Ahha!” Remus points his finger at her. “Auntie Faith doesn't have a Christmas tree this year, as she's afraid the cat is going to climb it.”

Hope curses inwardly as Remus gets up from his chair and walks over to her, looking at her intently. Hope tries not to squirm under his gaze.

“I ask you again,” Remus says emphatically. “Where have you been?”

Before Hope can answer, Remus’ gaze shifts down for a moment and he notices the package in Hope's bag. His eyes narrow. “Are those… Rosemerta’s cookies?”

Damn Rosemerta for always giving Hope some cookies to take home, and damn herself for being too weak to resist!

“You've had lunch at The Three Balls of Holly,” Remus concludes. Then his eyes widen in shock. “Mother,” he hisses. “Are you having an affair?”

“Yes,” Hope immediately says. “You've caught me. I was out on a clandestine rendez-vous with my secret lover behind your father's back!”

Remus stares at her for a moment and then shakes his head. “Okay, so it's clearly not that. Now tell me where you really were.”

Hope gives up, and decides to come clean. She sighs in defeat. “I was out for lunch with Sirius.”

“What?!” Remus gasps.

“He's my ex!” Remus exclaims. “You're my mother! That's exactly what it means!”

“Come on, darling,” Hope says appeasingly. “You know I've always been very fond of the boy.”

Remus doesn't look the slightest bit appeased.

Hope makes herself a cup of tea, with Remus sitting back down at the kitchen table, with a sour look on his face, moping. She sits down across from him and stirs her tea, waiting patiently.

She doesn't have to wait long.

“So,” Remus eventually says reluctantly. “Sirius is back in town, huh?”

“He is,” Hope only replies.

Remus groans in frustration, and forces the next words out. “How was he?”

“Good,” Hope decides to stop teasing him and starts to talk. “He finished art school before the summer, and then spent some months working in New York, building a clientèle, before only recently coming back to town. He seemed well. Still very handsome.” She takes a sip from her tea before adding “And still single.”

“Mum!” Remus warns.

Another silence falls, during which Hope, again, waits patiently.

“Did he…” Remus begins hesitantly after a moment. “Did he say anything about me?”

Hope looks at her son fondly. “Darling, do you really think that Sirius could go and have lunch with your mother and not talk about you?” She giggles. “I was teasing the poor dear-” maybe she does that a bit too often, now that she thinks about it “-and I started telling him all about your father's bad knee, to see how long he would last. He made it an impressive five minutes, before blurting out ‘how's Remus?’ right in the middle of my sentence.” She shakes her head, smiling. “When I told him you now work at the local school, he said he could easily imagine you as a teacher.”

Remus also smiles. “Just like I can easily imagine him in his own art studio, surrounded by his paintings.”

“Oh,” Hope says. “I didn't tell you! You know Mr Kettleburn’s old cottage, in the woods at the edge of town? The one that hasn't been used in almost a year? Well, Sirius bought it! He's going to turn it into his workplace, a calming place for him to paint. Of course our town doesn't quite have the art scene New York has, or much of a market to sell art, but Sirius says he just doesn't feel the inspiration he feels here when he's in the city. He hopes that with the name he has already made and the clientèle he has already built, he'll be able to sell his paintings from here.”

Remus stares at her. “Huh. So Sirius is staying in town.”

Hope tilts her head. “Does that surprise you?”

Remus shrugs. “I guess I just always thought he would either accept that job as Creative Director at his family's company and travel the world meeting interesting, important people, or open up some fancy art gallery in some trendy, artsy neighborhood in New York, or maybe travel to all the major art capitals of the world showcasing his work… I always thought that this small town simply wouldn't be enough for him.”

“Sirius has always been very clear about that,” Hope says gently. “He has always told you that he loves this place, that it feels like home. That this town, his paintings, you, are all he needs.”

“Yeah,” Remus says. “But I always thought he was just saying that, y’know? I was…"

“You were listening to your own fears and anxieties, instead of listening to him,” Hope finishes for him.

Remus rubs his temples. “I really fucked up when it comes to Sirius, didn't I?”

Hope purses her lips. “I certainly wouldn't use that language,” she says. “But yes, I do believe the way you pushed Sirius away was a mistake. But,” she adds in a softer tone. “Sometimes mistakes can be fixed.”

“Right,” Remus says bitterly, averting his eyes. “Like Sirius would ever want to talk to me again after what I did to him.”

Hope holds back a groan of frustration.

Like Sirius would ever want to stay in a place like this. Like Sirius would ever want to talk to me again.

“Well,” she says coolly, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you still haven't learned your lesson about deciding for Sirius what he does and does not want based on your own insecurities rather than talking to him and listening to what he's actually saying, then yes, it's better if you just leave the poor boy alone.”

Remus closes his eyes for a moment. “I really am doing it again, aren't I? I'm sorry. I just…"

“He really misses you, Remus,” Hope says, reaching out and taking her son’s hand. “And I know you miss him too. Sweetheart, everybody makes mistakes, and that's okay.” She squeezes his hand. “Especially if you learn from those mistakes and don't make the same mistakes twice.”

Remus gives her a small smile. “I suppose I could talk to him some time. Especially now that he's gonna be around for the foreseeable future.”

Hope smiles back at him. “That's good to hear, darling.” She gets up from her chair, places her cup in the sink, and walks over to the kitchen door, before turning around in the door opening and adding “Because I invited him over for Christmas brunch tomorrow.”

Remus jerks his head up and stares at her wide-eyed. “Mum!”

“Now excuse me,” Hope smiles innocently. “I've gotta go hang up some more mistletoe.”

“MUM!”

#wolfstar christmas #wolfstar christmas fics #wolfstar holiday fluff #post breakup #breakup and makeup #my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #hope lupin

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ialwayscomewhenyoucall · 7 days

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buckets of time (spilled on the pavement)

Crowley waited.

Day after day

he haunted

the bookshop,

the record store,

the coffee shop.

When it was

too much

he went to the park

and fed the ducks.

He didn’t have a job

to focus on,

didn’t have his

flat,

didn’t have

anything

but an empty place

deep inside.

(and a dozen or so

houseplants)

An empty place,

and buckets of

time

to wonder

what

went

wrong.

…so Crowley waited.

ii.

I’m sorry.

Oh Crowley I’m so

sorry.

Tears welled

in Aziraphale’s eyes,

and all at once

Crowley

didn’t want

the apology.

The explanation.

The grief.

He just wanted to see

Aziraphale

smile.

I kept an eye on the bookshop.

Muriel’s done

a decent j—

And then Aziraphale’s lips—

feather-soft

warm

tasting faintly of

berries

and cream—

were on his

and nothing

else

mattered.

Still…

he could poke

a little.

(he was still a demon)

I’m not one of your

rare

books,

angel.

Kiss me

like you mean it.

The mischievous

glint

in Aziraphale’s eyes

said Challenge accepted.

NaPoWriMo day 22.2 - ineffable husbands, "I'm not a delicate flower, kiss me like you mean it"

For @vexbatch

#lirael writes #napowrimo 2024 #ineffable husbands #post season 2 #breakup and makeup #fandom poetry

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y2jenn · 2 years

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Shortcut to Happiness

#our flag means death #ofmd #our flag means death fanart #ofmd fanart #edward teach #stede bonnet #blackbeard #gentleman pirate #breakup robe #makeup robe #and dip #y2jenn

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probablyhuntersmom · 4 months

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How not to fucking write the Your Makeup is Running trope:

How to write the Your Makeup is Running trope:

#blue eye samurai #ft. LoK salt #sorry but I'll always be mad about how Eska's arc could've gone so damn differently #I had been excited about the release of her design and VA but. betrayal.#anyway yeah her makeup smudged so that she could get laughed at by the audience *for being a girl with crazy emotions after a breakup*#laughed at for the absolute wrong reasons #while with Mizu it was for respectful cinematic effect. during moments where laughing would be the most unnatural reaction from the audienc #and set against the backdrop of the stage play narration: it was about themes like hate returning to taint pure love. thanks to betrayal #themes like how she has to decide whether or not to agree with people that she's a monster. or to reframe that perspective

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lunarharp · 9 months

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o r u f r e y

#witch hat tag #orufrey #another day of being insane.. when i think about tassels i go berserk and have to draw 5 or so images until i calm down #someone noticed that those are west side story lyrics. i know. but i've never seen that..not even the takarazuka version..#it's because aziraphale's actor recommended it as a breakup-makeup song to listen to post-s2 of good omens.. So. i do #btw i hate the new tumblr layout

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thepenultimateword · 10 months

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Mini Snippet Part Two

Part One

CW: Sleep deprivation, self-starving, some depression and major insecurity, death mention, murder mention

Villain missed the milk jug twice before finally wrapping their fingers around the handle. They heaved it into their cart with a clang loud enough to earn a few looks, but they were simply grateful their trembling arm had made it that far. Even just standing was exhausting. They knew the remedies. Proper food and proper sleep, but both, as easy as they seemed, seemed to linger just out of reach..

Gory images of Hero plagued their vision every time they closed their eyes. Those lifeless eyes staring straight into their heart. Hero had no qualms about killing people; Villain shouldn't feel so bad about returning the favor, and yet...their stomach hadn't stopped churning since. They could barely keep a meal down a day, and so they watched themselves fearfully, helplessly, grow gaunter. And weaker. And more lost.

Villain swiped their fist across the sudden wetness in their eyes and moved their cart out of the way of the refrigerators. They had tried contacting Supervillain several times since their argument. And then several more times after the...incident. Nothing but silence.

Why had they let Hero go? If they'd just let Supervillain take care of it all like they'd intended then maybe they wouldn't be so miserable.

Who do you feel guilty about? Hero or us?

Shut up.

You agonize over an enemy, but you killed us too. The henchmen's voices blended together in their head. always angry. Always accusing. It had only begun after a few days of sleep deprivation. If they could just sleep... But they couldn't sleep. You thought you could fix it so easily? You're pathetic.

"Please shut up," Villain begged, pressing their forehead to the cart's handlebar.

"Villain?"

Villain's head shot up. Too fast. They swayed a little on their feet, only balanced by a steadying hand on their shoulder. They stared down at the gentle touch, blinking in confusion at the all-too-familiar callouses and scars. Slowly, slowly, as if worried they might disappear, another illusion in a series of persistent figments, they lifted their gaze to Supervillain's face.

The hand drifted up their neck and jaw, cupping their face. Reassuringly tangible. Villain melted into the warmth, fighting the urge to throw themselves against their lover's--ex-lover?--chest.

"You're so thin." Supervillain's thumb stroked up and down their cheekbone. "Have you been eating?"

Villain choked on a sob.

"Hey...hey..." Their other hand clasped the back of their neck, giving a gentle squeeze before quickly freezing and dropping again. Then the hand on their cheek dropped too. Arms hung limp and awkward at their sides. Supervillain wet their lips. "It's... good to see you."

"Really?" Villain hated the emotion in their voice. "You've done an awful lot to avoid me."

"I needed space."

"I needed to talk to you."

"I had the funerals." Villain flinched at the hardening of that word. "Amends to the families. Then I had to completely reevaluate security. Prepare defenses against anything Hero might have shared with other heroes. But then Hero got themselves killed anyway, which was a whole other fiasco."

"I killed them." The words fell heavy and cold, out of Villain's mouth. Dead things.

Supervillain gaped.

"For you. I killed them for you. To...try to...I don't know...fix things? I know it wasn't much of a fix but..." They swallowed.

"No." Supervillain's eyes roved them up and down. "No. You didn't. You didn't kill anyone. ...Did you?"

Villain stepped back, their spine resting against the bar of their cart. They stared down at the scuffed tile. “I needed to talk to you.”

Some stupid part of them had thought if they could just get to Supervillain it would all be ok. They could tell them it was alright. Hug them. Praise them. Love them.

But now they were here. And Villain felt no difference at all.

They rubbed their knuckles between their eyes, sparking starry pain across the blood in their vision. “I can’t unsee it. Unfeel it.”

"You didn't need to do that. I never asked you to..."

Villain looked up at them. “Do you forgive me now?"

“You didn’t need to do that,” Supervillain repeated. Their face twisted mournfully, creases along their eyes where only real pain ever creased them.

Villain’s gut dropped.

“Did I make it worse? Am I…am I ruined?”

Supervillain used to tease them about their supposed villain’s purity. Plenty of crime and callousness, but none of the bone-chilling harm many villains frequented. It had drawn Supervillain to them in the first place. They found it cute. Well, until that cuteness backfired like shrapnel into ten bodies.

Villain only wanted to turn things back the way they were. They never considered Supervillain might be even more disgusted with them changed.

Villain clenched the hem of their shirt, shoulders shuddering. Maybe they should run. Ditch the groceries and get somewhere where those disappointed eyes didn’t dig into them. They couldn’t run very fast, but they doubted supervillain would give chase anyway.

Strong arms wrapped them tight and close.

“You’re not ruined.”

“But—”

“You’re not,” Supervillain growled. “You’re just…just…sort of different. And that’s fine. Because the important parts are still there.” They squeezed a little tighter, digging their jaw into Villain’s thin shoulder. “And I’m sorry you felt you had to do something like that for me. I should have reached out.”

Do you love me again?

The words danced across Villain’s ragged brain, but they couldn’t bring themselves to put them into sound. What if the answer was no?

“Come with me.” Supervillain loosed Villain from their embrace, but kept a firm grip on their hand as they transferred their own items into Villain’s cart, quickly taking control and rolling toward the checkout. “You need several hot meals and a warm bed.”

“I-I-” Villain stumbled after them with aggravating incoherence.

“Who else is going to take care of you?” Supervillain challenged, of course picking up meaning in their syllables of protest.

Tears sprang to Villain’s eyes. That was more ‘I love you’ than words could ever say.

***

Well, this sort of came out of nowhere. If you prefer the angst of part one you can pretend it ended there. If you prefer happy endings, I hope you enjoyed. It’s also been a while since I wrote part one, so the vibe may be different.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn

#hero x villain community #villain x villain #villain x supervillain #writblr #writeblr #heroes and villains #writing snippet #makeup #post breakup #exes to lovers

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teethpaste · 4 months

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got that mf dawg in me for 2024

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taihua · 26 days

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#28 with fengqing for the prompt game pls♡♡♡

--in a rush of adrenaline.

The bones had barely hit the ground before Feng Xin's arm was wrapping around Mu Qing's waist, pulling him in close despite the unsheathed saber and the traces of blood clinging to their clothes, their hair, their skin. His kiss was as insistent as his hands, teeth knocking into Mu Qing's lip and fingers twisting into his ponytail.

"You," Feng Xin panted against his mouth, "scared me."

"I had it..." With their lips locking together, Mu Qing struggled to form an answer. He let his saber clatter to the ground as he braced a hand against Feng Xin's shoulder, and he could feel both of their heartbeats pounding between them. "... under control."

"You didn't." Feng Xin tightened his hand on Mu Qing's hip, a gesture that was accompanied by a shameless nudge of his knee between Mu Qing's. "I saw everything. You..."

Was the only way to distract him from his needless criticisms to deepen the kiss? Mu Qing let both of his arms wrap around Feng Xin's neck as his lips parted, a needy sound breaking free from his throat against his will.

The cleared throat off to their side wasn't audible the first time. The second time still didn't break off their entanglement, but it did startle them into turning their heads.

"I thought you two broke up," Xie Lian commented, scratching his chin. "It's so hard to keep up..."

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, using the interruption as an excuse to wriggle out of Feng Xin's grasp. "It's not like this means we're back together. Don't get wrong ideas, Dianxia."

#tgcf fic #fengqing #feng xin #mu qing #from the category of 'fics that would be longer if i wasnt so busy and could write more'#xie lian vs the perennial cycle of breakup/makeup/breakup that is fengqing

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villainihavedonethymotheronao3 · 2 months

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Some people put their whole hearts into trying to make Mollymauk a Glee character when he is, at his core, somewhere between a washed up magician selling fake silk sheets on daytime television and a line cook in an ankle-length fur coat who you meet at a drag show, who feeds your dog filet mignon and then ghosts you halfway through your third date.

#critical role #mollymauk tealeaf #where is the crust! where is the unreliability! where is the smarm!#where is the coaxing you to breakup with your boyfriend at a race under a bridge and then skipping town forever?#they have seven ids and the funkiest stage makeup kit you’ve ever seen #I’m talking Ben nye that has developed new strains of fungus #less fabulous Molly and more ‘can recite the code of conduct for clowns by heart’ Molly #does children’s birthdays but not before noon or after five Molly #lies about being psychic to impressionable old women #but never makes a significant profit off of it #zero social media contacts at the dmv abandons you halfway through clubbing but checks in the next morning type of person

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pollenallergie · 1 year

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Eddisms

The much more aptly named sequel to “Eddie-isms”

As always these hc are miscellaneous and not in any particular order. Enjoy!

best friend!Eddie masterlist

reblogs are most appreciated!! :)

taglist: @gaysludge @heavymetalbabyy @luvrsbian @munsonology @tayhar811 @stolen-in-moonlight

Eddie is so insufferably loud in every single thing he does. It’s honestly a mystery how he managed to sneak up on Chrissy because that man can be heard from miles away. He’s so heavy-footed when he walks that it rattles the trailer a little bit from time to time. Nothing about that man is deft or graceful. <3

He snores and I mean SNORES. He always has, even as a little kid. At first, his snoring scared the crap out of Wayne, but now it’s just sort of become background ambience for his uncle. Wayne almost finds it reassuring, in a way; at least Eddie’s breathing, right? <3

Despite what Dustin says, Eddie has a very short temper. Granted, it takes a lot for him to get truly angry, but it doesn’t take much at all to get him cranky. In fact, Eddie’s just as much of a mean girl as Steve. Though he lacks Harrington’s resting bitch face, he’s absolutely just as bitchy. <3

Eddie’s always been obsessed with cars, but not in the way you might think. He doesn’t really give a shit about the typical sports cars or anything like that, what he finds the most fascinating are the niche, funky-looking cars. Citicars, Firebirds, Scarabs, he loves ‘em all. He’s especially a fan of station wagons and vans, probably because those were the kind of cars your mom always drove. His favorite of all time has to be the 1948 Tasco because it combines his favorite types of cars; weird looking ones and vans. He won’t ever admit it to anyone but you and Wayne, but he also really likes pick-up trucks; specifically the old, somewhat worn ones like Wayne used to have. <3

Eddie definitely had race-car bed sheets growing up. Honestly, he still uses them in the winter because they’re a lot warmer than his usual sheets. <3

He asked Santa for a race-car bed for six years in a row. For his ninth birthday, he finally got one. Though it was a hand-me-down from your older brother, he loved it like it was brand new. <3

As kids, you and Eddie used to “rescue” (kidnap) wild turtles and beg your mom and Wayne to let you keep them. <3

When he was six, Eddie got kicked out of little league baseball for mooning the umpire. </3

Eddie doesn’t use 3-in-1 shampoo, he does something way worse. He uses Irish Spring on every square inch of his body; hair included. His scalp is practically pleading for death at this point. <3

Eddie doesn’t see the point in using lotion, so he simply doesn’t. The most he’ll do is use vaseline on his lips when they get all dry and cracked in the winter. <3

Eddie’s routine is so simplistic that it’s really not much of a routine at all and, yet, it takes him nearly an hour to get ready every morning. Does that at all make sense? No. Nothing about this man makes sense, he’s an enigma, a silly lil enigma. Well, not so much of an enigma… The reason it takes him so long to get ready is because he moves like a sloth in the morning, getting ready in 0.25x speed due to his residual sleepiness. <3

Eddie watched Zardoz and made it his entire personality for like two years. Seriously, he quoted it non-stop for two years straight. <3

Eddie has a thing about toenails. Not feet in general, just toenails. They absolutely disgust him. He gags every time he cuts his own toenails. So, yeah, Eddie’s the kinda man to chew with his mouth open and belch in your face just for shits and gigs, but cower in fear when he’s faced with a human toenail. <3

I know I already said that Eddie cries when he watches emotional movies (The Color Purple, Old Yeller, etc.), but here’s the thing about Eddie… He’ll sob like a baby while watching those movies, sure, but while he’s actively sobbing he’s also making fun of you for doing the exact same thing. He’s like “You’re such a crybaby. *sniffle* It’s not even that sad. *sniffle, sniffle* God, who cries during the happy parts of movies?? *sob*” <3

Eddie used to steal your clothes so much that eventually you just cleared out a drawer in your dresser and filled it with clothes that you were willing to share with him. Of course, your clothes are too big for such a lithe lil stringbean like Eddie, but he still loves wearing them. You don’t mind much, though, because you get to reap the benefit of your comfiest t-shirts and sweatpants smelling like Eddie. <3

In direct response to you making a drawer for him in your dresser, Eddie went out, bought a bunch of comfy clothes in your size from Goodwill, and filled a drawer of his dresser with them, that way you’d both have drawers of shareable clothes at your respective homes. <3

One time Eddie walked into the living room wearing a baby pink t-shirt with some CareBears and a vibrant rainbow printed on the front, and Wayne almost keeled over from laughing so hard. His amusement was doubled when he noticed the matching pastel scrunchie in his nephew’s hair, something Eddie had also “borrowed” from you. <3

Eddie’s weirdly into soap operas, especially Dynasty. The man loves Dynasty. However, he’ll only watch soap operas when he’s high because he thinks it makes for a better viewing experience. <3

Eddie never wears boxers underneath his sweatpants nor under his pajama pants. Why? Because he’s a whore. Because he firmly believes that you should only wear underwear with uncomfy pants (for example, jeans) and that cozy pants do not warrant underwear; it’s just a waste of good, clean boxers to wear them beneath sweatpants and pajama pants. <3

All of Eddie’s shirts are either just a bit too tight or entirely too big for him. This man does not know his real shirt size. <3

Eddie does not wash his feet when he showers. He also rarely washes his arms or legs. He feels that you really only need to wash the “essential” parts when you shower; the essential parts being his armpits and naughty bits. <3

Eddie once got you a purse for your birthday… sort of. Really he just haphazardly sewed one of the straps from his backpack onto an old, cloth sack and painted the words “Miguel Cores” on the front of it. It actually works really well as a reusable grocery bag for all of your nonperishables. <3

Eddie’s right eye gets all twitchy after sleepless nights. The boys always see it and think that he’s pissed off about something, but really the sweet man just needs his rest. <3

Eddie sucks at holding grudges. I’m not kidding, the man is genuinely horrible at holding grudges, mostly because he often forgets about whatever has happened within a few days; his anger vanishing along with the memory of what’s transpired. Case in point, you both had a severe falling out during the summer before your freshman year, which ended up in the two of you being at odds for two whole years. Or, rather, it ended up in you being mad at him for nearly two years. Eddie, however, consistently kept forgetting that you were mad at him during that time. In fact, he would often approach you in the halls of Hawkin’s High so that he could banter with you like he had in middle school, only to be reminded of your steadfast dislike of him by your short responses, refusal to meet his gaze, tense posture, and clipped tone. </3

He chews his gum like a cow munches on grass, just annoyingly loud and with his lips constantly smacking together. <3

Eddie’s fancy, old-fashioned silver lighter -the only good thing he ever got from his shitty old man- also doubles as his preferred fidget toy. The man always needs to have something to do with his hands. <3

He’s a wizard with some sidewalk chalk. It used to drive you crazy as a kid because he would always do these really detailed drawings with the crumbly chalk that your mom got from the dollar store, meanwhile you were always just stuck writing your name or drawing hearts and stick figures. <3

At 10 years old, Eddie invented his own language while cooped up in the back seat of his uncle’s car on an annoyingly long summer road trip to Myrtle Beach. He hasn’t taught the language to anyone, not even to you, but sometimes you’ll hear him mumble things to himself in his strange tongue. You, Wayne, and your mom have picked up on the meanings behind certain words and phrases over the years, simply because he uses them so frequently, but other than that, it’s mostly gibberish to the three of you. <3

Eddie spent a solid two months trying to convince his elementary school crush that he was, in fact, Mick Jagger. He even nailed the Mockney accent from listening to his radio interviews. Unfortunately, they weren’t buying it. <3

Eddie refuses to touch you when/if you’re wearing anything made out of velvet simply because the feeling of velvet makes his skin crawl. So, no hugs, no playful wrestling, and absolutely no cuddles while you’re wearing velvet. <3

In the summer of ‘85, Eddie won a goldfish at one of the carnival games at the local fair and named him Tater Tot, but he knew that he couldn’t afford all the stuff the little guy needed to stay alive, so he gave him away to some little girl that had been trying to win one of her own for nearly an hour. <3

Let’s be real here for a second: Eddie’s not straight. Actually, due to a lack of terminology available to him, Eddie doesn’t really know what he is. He knows that he likes women, he knows that he likes men, and he knows that he likes people who are neither women nor men, but, given that it’s the 80s and he lives in rural Indiana, he’s not really sure if there’s a word for that. Truthfully, he’s not really sure if anyone else in the world even feels the same way that he does. Obviously, there are tons of people out there with the same sexual orientation as him, but, fuck, he doesn’t know that. When he was much, much younger he felt incredibly isolated and insecure about his sexuality, but as he’s grown up he’s become less unsure of himself and more accepting of his sexual orientation. Of course, he still likes to keep a low profile, at least when it comes to his sexuality, because, as I said, it is the 80s and he does, indeed, live in rural Indiana. However, he’s at least become confident enough to come out to his closest friends and family. Hence, the rainbow mug in the Munsons’ famous mug collection. <3

Eddie’s a crafty lil goblin, he loves to craft. Papier-mâché, fuck yeah. Hot glue, hell fuckin’ yeah. In fact, many of the props in the theatre room were crafted by Eddie during his time at Hawkins High. Even after he stopped doing theatre, he still always volunteered to help the drama club set up for their performances and craft their props. <3

“But why did he quit theatre?” one may ask. Well, there was the Great Egg Incident of ‘82, in which a bunch of upperclassmen (mostly jocks) literally threw eggs at the drama club during their spring production of Guys and Dolls. More specifically, their onslaught began right as Eddie began uttering his most iconic line in the show, “Nicely, nicely, thank you,” so Eddie, understandably, took that pretty personally. As a result, he left the drama club at the end of sophomore year and, instead, opted to focus all of his creative energy on the hellfire club. </3

You and Eddie took the same art class senior year and it was honestly one of the only classes he passed that year. Every Friday, you guys had to turn in a weekly sketch for that class and his favorite one that he’d done was of you; he’d drawn it while you were working on homework together at the picnic table near his trailer. At the end of the year, he’d asked the teacher for it back so that he could keep it. <3

Eddie’s a massive worrywart when it comes to the people he loves, that’s especially true when it comes to you. <3

Eddie once risked further social ostracism to help you take the little kids you babysit to Build-A-Bear when Starcourt Mall first opened up. In the end, you rewarded him by making him a stuffed animal of his own, a spotted dog named Ozzy who’s adorned in the most metal (or metal-adjacent) outfit Build-A-Bear had to offer. Perhaps that shouldn’t have been so rewarding for a 19 year old guy, but 1) he’d never really had many toys growing up, at least none quite as nice and soft as Ozzy the Dog, and 2) watching you kiss the little cloth heart before gently stuffing it inside the toy did funny little things to his supposedly cynical heart. He’ll never admit it, but he sleeps with that stuffed dog far more than a guy his age probably should. <3

Although Eddie never makes his own bed, he’ll gladly help you make yours because he knows that fitted sheets are the bane of your existence. <3

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engie-ivy · 1 year

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(Break-Up and Make-Up, Feelings with a Happy Ending. Happy new year everyone!🎊)

Once, Remus and Sirius were together and very much in love. Or at least Remus had been. For Sirius, it hadn't even been worth trying long-distance for. Now, it's been years, and Remus and Sirius are still drawn to each other.

How It Glistened As It Fell

All Too Well - Taylor Swift

Sirius shrugs. “We’ll have to spend time together anyway, we should make the most of it and use it to our advantage.”

“Just to be clear,” Remus swallows. “You’re suggesting... hooking up?”

“Only for the duration of our stay.”

“Right. Of course.”

“You’re single, I’m single, we’re both here. There’s always been this physical attraction between us, I don’t think that’s changed. There’s something pulling us towards each other, and I see no reason to keep fighting it.”

Remus hesitates for a moment before replying. “Yeah, why not?”

Why not? Why not?

Right now, waking up in the bed in the lodge next to Sirius, with Sirius’ arms wrapped tightly around him, Sirius’ head resting on his chest, the feel of Sirius’ soft hair against his cheek, Sirius’ still familiar scent surrounding him, competed by the golden sunlight falling through the bedroom window beautifully illuminating Sirius’ sleeping face, Remus can think of a hundred reasons why not.

Because I was quite enjoying not wanting to rip my heart out every time something reminds me of you.

Because I prefer my mental health intact, thank you very much.

Because it was a hell of a lot of work to get over you, and it would be quite a waste if a few days made it all for nothing.

Because you never looking at me like that again is still better than you looking at me like that, but knowing it isn’t real, perhaps it never was.

Because it cannot be casual, not for me, not when it’s you.

But it’s too late. Remus allowed himself to fall into Sirius’ embrace and wake up in his arms the next morning, and now he’s utterly screwed. Keeping his mental health intact is a ship that’s sailed.

Sirius and Remus used to be together, once upon a time. It had been good, and Remus had been very in love.

Technically, it ended because Remus was offered a great internship position oversees. He simply couldn’t refuse, didn’t want to refuse, Sirius hadn’t wanted him to refuse. So he left, and that had been the end of it. In reality, though, it ended because Remus, in a moment of weakness, had asked Sirius to do long-distance, and Sirius had refused. Remus had expected it, really. After all, Sirius had always been too good for him, he always knew he wouldn’t be able to keep him. Of course Sirius wouldn’t be waiting for a boyfriend far away he could hardly ever see when men were lining up for him.

Remus had done his internship, got offered a job, and ended up staying in America for several years. He has only recently returned. He stayed in contact with his friends from England, especially James and Lily, and even Sirius, albeit superficially. They had been friends before anything else, after all.

Now, Remus had moved back to England only a couple weeks ago, and of course he couldn’t escape spending the Holidays with his friends. Well, he wanted to see them, of course, just... Sirius. That’s still sensitive.

Christmas and New Year’s alone would’ve made him nervous enough, but now Frank and Alice are getting married in the days between. They’ve booked rooms in a beautiful lodge surrounded by tall pine trees and snowy mountains for three days for all their friends to stay. And if that wasn’t intense enough, it was Frank and Alice, James and Lily, Dorcas and Marlene, Peter and Mary, Gideon and Emmeline, Fabian and Benjy. In short, all couples plus Remus and Sirius. Which means they have to share a room as well.

From the moment they saw each other, it was clear there was still attraction between them, and they were drawn to each other like moths to a flame. The whole room could sense how the air between them was charged. Sirius was quick acknowledge this tension between them, and said it shouldn’t be a surprise he’s still physically attracted to Remus.

“Because why would it be? You look amazing, Remus.”

And of course, Sirius has always been, and still is, one of the most handsome man Remus has ever seen. Denying that Sirius is handsome would be like denying the grass is green. Remus had admitted it was the same for him, so it was quickly established they were both attracted to each other, not involved with anyone else, and about to share a room for the upcoming days. Hence Sirius’ suggestion to just let what almost seemed inevitable happen.

So Remus finds himself waking up in the arms of the person he now realises he never quite got over. He closes his eyes and takes a few steadying breaths, before he carefully trying to unwrap himself from Sirius’ arms.

Sirius hums, tightens his grip and nuzzles his face in Remus’ neck. “Just a few more minutes, love.”

Remus breath hitches and he freezes.

Sirius blinks his eyes open, and it slowly comes back to him where he is and why, and he seems to realise what he just said. He pushes himself up, stares at Remus wide-eyed and opens his mouth to apologize.

Remus can’t take it.

He jumps out of bed, quickly slips into his sneakers and dashes out if the room.

Remus sits outside on the edge of the front porch, his head resting against the railing, his knees tucked against his chest, shivering in his pyjamas, just as a light snow starts falling.

He hears the door open and close behind him. A blanket is placed over his shoulders.

Sirius.

Remus glances over at him. He must’ve thrown on the first thing he saw, which is Remus’ jumper. Remus’ heart tugs painfully at the observation. Sirius is still shivering, though, in his pyjama bottoms and socked feet. Remus wants to wrap his arms around him to keep him warm and never let him go, and simultaneously wants him to leave and not come back.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to say that.”

Remus involuntarily flinches. He wishes Sirius would understand that it gives no comfort to hear he didn’t mean it, it’s what makes it so damn painful in the first place.

“Look,” Sirius says, running a hand through his hair as Remus doesn’t reply. “If you feel guilty because you think you’ve been leading me on, and now I’ve fallen back in love with you or something, that’s not the case.”

It hurts. So much. Remus inwardly prays for Sirius to Just. Stop. Talking.

“You don’t have to worry that my feelings for you have returned due to these days together.”

Every word he says feels like a dagger to Remus’ heart.

“They haven’t returned,” Sirius continues, merciless. “They never left, and I knew that when I suggested to cross that line while staying here. I chose to do that knowing I wasn’t over you.”

Remus jerks his head up in shock and turns to Sirius. “You... you can’t still have feelings for me! You can’t!”

Sirius just looks at him.

Remus shakes his head. “You didn’t want to do long-distance! If you truly felt so strong about me, then it wouldn’t have been such a problem! Then you wouldn’t have minded so much to stay committed, not date other people!”

“I wouldn’t have,” Sirius says, looking at Remus calmly. “But would you have believed me?”

Remus opens his mouth to reply, but then he pauses, for the first time in a long time truly thinking about his relationship with Sirius, and what it was really like.

It was great. When Remus and Sirius were together, it was great. When they were apart, however... Remus just couldn’t shake the thought that Sirius was too good for him, and that one day, Sirius will realise that too. The thought that when he’s not with Remus, he can meet someone more handsome, more fun, more bold than Remus at any moment. Remus would be filled with dread and anxiety every time Sirius was away, thinking that each time was going to be the time Sirius would not return to him. He would get in his own head and drive himself crazy with worry. What made it worse was that, while Remus has always hated clubbing and dancing, Sirius, being the social person he is, loved it. And when Sirius was out, Remus would check his phone every five minutes, wouldn’t sleep and would restlessly pace his apartment all night.

Not wanting Sirius to think he didn’t trust him, because really, it hadn’t been him, Sirius was thoughtful and considerate, Remus had pretended everything was alright when Sirius came back and hidden his anxiety from Sirius, or so he thought. Looking at the sad expression in Sirius’ eyes now, though, makes him realise that Sirius knew.

“It already was so hard on you when we were living in the same city,” Sirius says, sitting down next to Remus, looking at the snow-covered landscape under the grey sky. “If we would be living in different continents, the toll on your mental health simply would’ve been too high.”

“I knew that,” Remus says, his voice sounding hoarse. “I knew that when I asked you, but I decided to ask anyway. That was my decision.”

Sirius smiles at him sadly. “And it meant so much to me. When you asked, when you decided that the constant stress and anxiety would be worth it if you got to have me, that meant the world to me, Remus. I was tempted, so very tempted.” He shakes his head. “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t be selfish, I couldn’t let you do that to yourself. I had to let you go.”

Slowly, Remus starts to realise. “It was never going to work,” he whispers as he stares at the tall pine trees ahead. “I just wanted you to want long-distance, but deep down, I think I always knew it was never going to work.” He turns his gaze back to Sirius. “It needed to be done, and I suppose one of us needed to be strong enough to do it.”

“It needed to be done,” Sirius agrees, and Remus thinks the tears in his eyes aren’t from the sharp wind. “But damn it if it wasn’t the hardest thing I ever had to do.”

Remus moves closer until their legs are touching, and he takes one corner of his blanket and places it around Sirius’ shoulder. He leans against Sirius and rests his head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Sirius takes his hand and links their fingers together and like that, they watch the snow fall.

“You know,” a smile tugs at the corner of Sirius’ mouth. “We’ll have to spend time together anyway, we should make the most of it and use it to our advantage.”

“Just to be clear,” Remus replies, unable to keep the laughter from his voice. “You’re suggesting... getting back together?”

“Only for the rest of our lives.”

“Right. Of course.”

“You’re single, I’m single, we’re both here. We’ve always been madly in love with each other, I don’t think that’s changed. There’s something pulling us towards each other, and I see no reason to keep fighting it.”

Remus looks at Sirius for a moment, eyes filled with warmth and love, before replying. “Yeah, why not?”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #breakup and makeup

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starlightvld · 5 months

Text

Word Game Wednesday - "Mine"

When Price speaks again, his voice is low enough that John has to strain to hear him.

"I feel responsible. I knew something was going on between you two. I should've put a stop to it."

"Wouldnae have made a difference. I was gone on 'im long afore anything happened 'tween us."

"Still—"

"No' yer fault, Cap. S'mine for bein' a goddamned fool, and Simon's for makin' me think he..."

John lets the words trail away, but the unspoken ending screams inside his head and stabs into the tender flesh around his shredded makeshift heart all the same. He pushes his glass forward and raises his hand, motioning to the bartender for another.

#soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #COD #Call of Duty #COD MW reboot #ficwip #word game wednesday #broken bones and shattered hearts #post canon fix it #have I mentioned there's a lot of angst in this fic?#breakup/makeup fic #MacTavish doesn't go by Soap because of the discharge and doesn't go by Johnny because of the broken heart #So John it is #Which is why Price is always referred to as Price in this fic XD #hoping I'll get to post chapter one soon #OG Starlight

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afewproblems · 11 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

I'm actually posting on WIP Wednesday, the stars have finally aligned in my favour!

Thank you to @outpastthebrakers for your tag today and @steves-strapcollection for your multiple tags before - its finally lined up today!!

Here is Part Two of my follow up to this Post (Steddie Breakup) hopefully with a Steddie makeup/fix-it future!

(Also! Important to note, season four - specifically the stuff with Vecna- Never happened in this AU)

***

Two Years later - 1987, Chicago, IL

Steve picks up another box from the back of the beemer. This one has, 'Steve's Obnoxious Hair Care,' neatly printed on the side in bold black sharpie --Steve snorts at the sight and vows to never let Robin help him pack ever again.

He walks up the three flights and through the propped open front door to the two bedroom apartment.

It's small, just barely enough for two people, but in downtown Chicago, it's a steal at the price.

And it's theirs.

"Hey Birdie," Steve calls out from the kitchen, he sets the box down on the counter, turning his head to the left slightly to listen for her shuffling. The dull ringing in his right ear makes it more difficult, present ever since he left his parents house for good.

It had gotten even worse since their Russian encounter, but if he's weighing the pros and the cons of that night, he's glad he got Robin out of the deal.

Steve steps into the living room just off the kitchen, "Robin?"

Bright sunlight streams through the curtainless windows bathing Robin in a warm yellow glow.

She stands in the center, facing Steve, with a pensive expression, her eyes scanning the space around her.

"Hush Dingus," she mutters, holding up her pointer finger to her lips, "I'm visualizing".

"Ah, of course," he concedes with a fond smile as Robin walks towards him slowly counting her steps. She lines her feet up as she moves, touching the toe of her right foot to the heel of her left. She wobbles slightly as she makes it to where Steve is standing, he reaches out to steady her with a laugh.

"I told you the living room was more than ten feet!"

"Robin, do you think that a 'foot' is literally your foot?"

Robin sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes, before plucking the measuring tape from where it was clipped to her back pocket, "you have no concept of joy, you refuse to let me live".

"Yeah, yeah, so hard done by," he snorts as she sticks her tongue out at him and leans down to pick up one of the empty boxes.

She sighs and looks around the space again with a contented expression before looking at Steve, "well, Dingus, I think we did good".

Steve nods and tries to smile back but the expression doesn't quite meet his eyes, Robin tilts her head, turning the box over in her hands at the corners.

"What's wrong?" She says softly, anxiously, her blue eyes dart over his face, "is it a migraine? Do you need your meds?"

Steve shakes his head, wincing before he can stop himself, he knows Robin's brain would come up with the worst case scenario first. And, to be fair to her, she had seen the worst case scenarios and after effects of the Russian interrogation, she'd held his hand after spilling his guts from the nausea and halos in his vision, she'd insisted he buy blackout blinds for his room because, 'you never know when you'll need them Dingus, you won't always get one of these at night'.

Steve shakes his head, "no, it's not a migraine, relax Robs," he huffs as she levels him with a disbelieving stare.

"I just," Steve chews his lip for a moment as he drops his gaze to the floor. Robin steps closer, tilting her head to the side as he struggles to find the words.

"I love that you came with me, that we get to be here, but," Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. It's longer than it had been two years ago, the gold and copper from his time in the warm summer sun slowly fading back to brown.

"Eddie always talked about leaving Hawkins someday, and I always thought it would be with me".

"This was our plan," he says softly, lifting his eyes to meet Robin's own, her brows pinched in a small frown.

"And I managed to screw that up like everything else," he trails off softly.

***

"I just don't understand why you have to go to this thing, you aren't even interested in his stupid job?" Eddie growls as he tosses the pencil up at his bedroom ceiling, it stays for just a moment before falling back into his waiting hands. Pock marks litter the tile from previous throws and Steve is sure Wayne's told him to knock it off more times than he can count.

"It's complicated," Steve says lowly, he pictures his dad's thunderous face, the same square jaw and straight nose that Steve has, they could be identical but for their ages and the cold grey eyes his father has.

Steve took after his mother in that area, inheriting her large hazel eyes and long lashes.

"No it's not," Eddie says stubbornly, he throws the pencil with more force this time and it hangs in the ceiling between them, "you could tell him to stuff his job up his ass".

"Eddie--"

"No, no, you know we had a show tonight, and you're choosing to go to your dad's fundraiser instead?"

Steve sighs and bites the inside of his cheek, tamping down the urge to argue with his boyfriend.

But, they've never really had this talk before, Steve's never told anyone about his father and his homelife.

Right now he wishes he had.

"It's not like I have much of a choice," he huffs as Eddie rolls his eyes and scoffs, "and not all of us have someone like Wayne to encourage us to do whatever we want".

"That's such bullshit and you know it," Eddie hisses ignoring the slight flinch from Steve, "you always do this".

What?

"You never want to come to our shows, you never want to sit in on Hellfire--"

"That's not true," Steve growls, crossing his arms over his stomach, he hunches in on himself slightly but Eddie shakes his head.

"Yes it is! When was the last time you came to a show?"

Steve wracks his brain, trying to remember the name of the bar they had played at, it wasn’t the Hideaway, it had been a bit of a drive to get there. It was a dive bar that had sounded like it was straight out of Robin Hood, The Red Lion?

"See!" Eddie takes his silence as victory and throws his hands up in the air, "what did I tell you?"

"Jesus, it was a bar show just like all of them Eddie, it's not like you guys were playing on MTV or something," Steve snaps, the last threads of his patience wearing thinner and thinner.

"Oh fuck off, MTV is part of the problem, do you not listen when I talk?"

"I always listen to you!" Steve cries out, his voice climbs in volume and his hands shake as adrenaline spikes, "sometimes you just talk and talk and talk and you say nothing important but I always listen to you!"

"Woooow, fuck you," Eddie scoffs as he turns on his heel and opens his bedroom door, Steve follows him, fuming but wary.

"Since everything I say is bullshit, apparently, and you don't want to come to our shows or spend time with me then maybe you should just go!"

Steve halts in his tracks.

Eddie stands by the open front door to the trailer, his cheeks are red and his mouth is a flat line carved in the middle of his face.

Steve feels his heart rate tick up as he stands there frozen.

They've had disagreements before, small petty arguments but this feels big. Much bigger than any fight they've ever had.

"Eddie-"

"Nope, unless you tell me you're coming tonight, we're done".

Oh.

And just like that, it hurts just as much as when Nancy had told him she didn't love him the previous year. It's too much, he needs to leave.

"Yeah, you know what Eddie, I don't need this," Steve says so softly that Eddie leans forward to hear before reeling back as though struck, "I don't," he shakes his head and walks past Eddle towards the open door.

Eddie's hands twitch as though he wants to reach out to Steve, to pull him back into the trailer, but they remain at his sides.

"You're right," Eddie yells after him as Steve walks down the gravel drive to his car, "you don't need us, we don't need you, go crawling back to daddy just like always".

Steve stops walking and looks back at Eddie. The metal-head's wide brown eyes are shiny with angry tears.

Steve feels his own angry tears pooling along his lash line.

He gets in the car and drives away, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he heads home.

***

"Okay, first of all," Robin says sharply as she drops the box at their feet and pokes him in the chest with a rigid pointer finger, "you're damn right you're happy I came with you, I am a catch!"

Steve rolls his eyes as Robin clears her throat imperiously until he raises his hands in surrender.

"Second, he found out about your dads shit, saw you beaten to hell and back, and didn't even want to have a conversation? Fuck that noise".

"Birdy, you weren't there, and you don't even know Eddie--"

"I know you though," she continues, staring him down, "and I know if the roles were reversed, you would have at least heard him out".

Steve holds back a wince, attempting to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He knows she isn’t right, he knows he made a mistake that night walking away, they should have talked, they should have had it out.

Steve should have told Eddie the truth.

Then again, Eddie dropped him like it was nothing so maybe he was better off in the long run.

Strangely enough this thought doesn’t make him feel better.

"Robin," Steve sighs wearily, crossing to the wall of the living room before leaning his back against it to slide down to the floor.

"Tell me I'm wrong," she says softly, walking towards his spot on the floor, she settles beside him and nudges his shoulder with her own.

"Tell me I'm wrong and I'll drop it," she says again, firmly this time.

Steve breathes out a sigh and brings his knees to his chest, looking towards the window.

The view isn't much, just the street and other buildings, but the Chicago skyline seems to stretch for miles ahead of them.

"You’re not wrong," he says eventually, ignoring the crow of triumph Robin makes, "but you're not right either".

She scoffs and leans her head against his shoulder, the soft waves of her hair tickle the skin on his bare arm but the weight and warmth of her is comforting.

"Besides, it was years ago," Steve mutters, "I'm sure he's forgotten all about me by now".

tagging: @strangersteddierthings @flowercrowngods @steddierthings @steddie-there @henderdads and anyone else that would like to participate! (Please tag me with your wonderful creations! Also I apologize if you've already been tagged - feel free to ignore this!)

#steddie #wip wednesday #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #afewproblems writes #steddie breakup #steddie slowburn makeup #lets go get these boys back together people #I can't not write platonic stobin now #how can I write steve without his robin #thats right I cant

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