#he’s never shown actually hating steve.

[thestobingirlie]

the byers being anti-jancy is as real to me as the wheelers being pro-stancy.

#no i will not accept criticism #now you might say. but liv. mike doesn’t like steve. doesn’t he?? #sure he acts whiny etc. but that’s teen boy shit!! #he’s never shown actually hating steve. #and there’s no proof he likes jonathan any better #especially not jonathan with nancy #anyway this is just my hc it has no weight on canon and canon has no weight on it lmao #my number one goal will always be what is funniest to ME #i am my own clown #anti jancy #stancy #will byers #joyce byers #karen wheeler #ted wheeler #holly wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things #my post

[starryeyedjanai]

love is a promise we make to each other

@steddiemicrofic prompt: edge | 509 words | rated T @steddielovemonth day 21 prompt: Love is letting him pick the music by @sparklyslug | read on ao3

They’re right at the edge of town, almost to the “Leaving Hawkins” sign, when Eddie lets out the breath he’s been holding. It rushes out of him, loud and noisy, and Steve looks over at him for a brief second.

“I didn't think we’d actually do it,” Eddie says, looking at the sign in the side-view mirror after they pass it.

“Do what?” Steve asks, reaching over and covering Eddie's hand where it rests on his thigh with his own.

“Leave that place,” Eddie says. “I kind of thought I’d be stuck there forever, rotting away in a town full of people who hate me.”

“I told you we’d leave the first chance we got,” Steve says, furrowing his brow. They’d talked about this plenty before— nights spent under the covers, talking about life away from here, together.

“I know we talked about it. It just never felt real, I guess,” Eddie says, then leans his head back against the headrest, looking at Steve.

At the next light, Steve looks over at him. “What is it?” he asks.

“Just, part of me always thought that you’d leave without me, when you finally left. That everything we talked about, those were just words.”

The car behind them honks and it lurches Steve out of the stupor Eddie's words left him in.

He starts driving and asks, “Why would you think I’d leave without you? Have I not shown you how much I love you? How much you mean to me?”

He can’t stop the hurt from creeping into his voice and he knows Eddie can hear it.

“No, that’s not it, I promise,” Eddie says, reaching for Steve's hand again.

He hadn't even realized he moved it.

Eddie says, “So many people in my life have just up and left. People I thought loved me, until they didn't, I guess. Part of me is always waiting for the other shoe to drop with you.”

“I don't want you to wait for the other shoe to drop because there is no other shoe. What you see is what you get with me. I’m not going anywhere,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand.

“I know that,” Eddie says. “It’s just hard to convince my brain sometimes that when you say you love me, you actually mean it.”

“I’ll say it as many times as it takes to stick,” Steve says, stealing a glance at him again.

There's a soft smile playing on his lips as he pulls Steve's hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

“Even if it takes a lifetime?,” Eddie asks.

“Even then,” Steve says. “I’m gonna spend my entire life loving you, Eddie Munson, just you wait.”

Eddie sniffs, then clears his throat, ready to change the subject.

“Can I put Metallica on?” he asks, reaching for the travel case of cassettes.

Steve groans theatrically and says, “Already? We have eleven hours in this car together. You’re lucky I love you.”

“I really am,” Eddie says, popping a tape into the player, but Steve thinks he’s the lucky one.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddiemicrofic #steddielovemonth #janai.doc

[themorningsunshine]

Be My Muse

Pairing - Aritst!Bucky Barnes x Reader (Childhood best friends to lovers)

Summary - Muse - A person or spirit that gives an artist the desire to create things

Bucky has been in love with you for years, but just can't get himself to say it. So, instead, he decides to show you.

Warnings - None, just fluffy fluff 

Word Count - 2.4k 

a/n - This is for @buckybarnesevents ‘s Connect 4: June-iverse event. Card Number - C4037 for the prompt C1 - Aritst. Thank you to the lovely @bluehourbucky​ for motivating me to actually finish writing this. 

"Come on, Buck. Just tell me."

You watched as the man you called your best friend shook his head, once again refusing to let out anything about his upcoming art exhibition.

"Oh, come on. Don't be this way." You didn't want to pressurize him, but he was acting weird about this exhibition for the past 2 months.

Every single time when he had an art exhibition coming up, he would ramble about it for weeks to you and you loved it. The way he was excited about what he had made and also the way his nervous ticks showed up always a week before the actual event, you loved every bit of it.  But this time, he hadn't spoken a word remotely related to it.

To top it all off, he had said that this was the most important exhibition of his life.

You were bound to be scared.

"Okay, what about this, you give me a hint, about anything, it doesn't even have to be the centerpiece, literally anything, and I will stop bugging you." You were practically begging now.

"Come on, doll. You are going to come to the main event. You can look at it then." He said putting your cup of coffee in front of you, is pretty much one of the only ways to distract your mind.

"See it then? With everybody else? Is that what I am to you, now, Buck? Just a person in the audience? I knew this day would come." You picked up your cup and with a dramatic turn walked out of the room.

Had you stood there for a moment longer, you would have seen the way Bucky scratched his thumb and bit his lips, two of his most prominent nervous ticks.

Only if he could tell you that you weren't just a person in the crowd. No, you were much more than that. You were everything .

He just had to wait.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

The day of the exhibition came sooner than he would have liked, but to you, it couldn't have been further away.

Bucky had been a little distant with you for the past week and you hated it. You hated it more than anything else in the world.

Usually, he would take you with him to carry out the errands related to the exhibition, 'cause he always got super nervous and you would be there to ground him. Like anchoring him back to the shore.

But this time, you had absolutely no idea what even was the theme of this exhibition. Every single time you offered to go with him for anything, he would always make excuses, and you were confident that they were lies 'cause when did Bucky start to go grocery shopping in the middle of the week?

In the almost 2 decades you had known him, ever since you were a kid, he had never hidden something this important from you.

To say that you were scared would be an understatement.

When you finally entered the exhibition, you were proud to see how many people had shown up. You had always known that Bucky would do exceptionally well as an artist and you had taken every chance you got to tell him exactly that.

As you were about to turn the corner and look at the first painting, you almost collided with a wall of muscle.

You looked up only to be met by the gaze of one of your closest friends.

"Steve, hey!!"

You saw as Steve tried extremely hard to hide the huge grin that threatened to spread across his face and you could swear you saw happy tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.

You squinted as you took a step to the side to let a man walk in, realizing you were blocking the way.

"Y/n, you need to come with me."

"Not now, Steve. It's Bucky's exhibition. I need to stay here."

"He has asked you to come with me."

You narrowed your eyes as you asked, "Are you sure?"

Steve nodded as he took your hand to try and take you away from the paintings.

Dread filled your chest. Did Bucky really not want you in here so much?

You follow Steve as he leads you toward an isolated door of the arena.

You turn to look at him and he signals you to get inside.

"Okay, if you are kidnapping me, I might as well let you know that no one is going to pay a single penny as ransom to you." You joke. You have been friends with Steve almost for as long as you have been with Bucky and you trusted them with everything.

Steve chuckles before replying, "Just go in, y/n."

You open the door and take a step in, only to realize that it's pitch dark. Before you can turn back to look at Steve, the door closes behind you.

You take a deep breath and call out, "Bucky? I swear to god if it's one of your stupid pranks, I'll kill you."

Suddenly, a small light gets switched on beside you and you turn to realize that it beautifully illuminates a painting.

You take a step forward towards it, only to realize that it is a sketch of an eye and it's beautiful .

You can see the way it shines with a glint even though it's just a sketch and you bring your hand forward to run it across it.

It is then that you notice the little note sitting at the bottom right corner of the sketch.

All the city lights combined couldn't shine brighter than your eyes.

Your lips turned upwards into a smile as you read the words. Even though you had absolutely no idea what was happening, it was a huge comfort to know that it was all Bucky's doing. You could recognize that handwriting anywhere.

You looked around hoping to figure out at least something, but all that the little illumination below the sketch showed you was that it was more probable than not a huge hall.

Not even a moment later, another small light was switched on just beside the first one.

It was a painting this time. A very old painting.

It was a small girl sitting on a swing hanging from the tree. A blissful smile on her face, carefree and oblivious to the troubles of the world.

When you noticed the bracelet that she was wearing, you took a step forward, squinting to focus on the painting.

It was you.

And then the memory of that day placed itself at the forefront of your brain.

"Come on, Buck." The little 11-year-old girl called out to the brown-haired boy.

He just shakes his head and refuses to move away from under the tree he is sitting, a sketchbook in hand.

"Why do you even like painting so much?" She had asked, crossing her arms across her chest, puffing in annoyance at his lack of response before walking away towards the swing herself.

A smile finds its way to your lips at the memory. It was about a couple of years after the both of you had met, and yet, it was as clear as day in your mind. Even after all the memories you and Bucky created together over the years, small - innocent ones like these from all those years ago never left your heart.

You look at it intensely for a long time. A couple of tears brimming at the corner of your eyes.

It's been so long. You couldn't help but think. The both of you had grown up but never grew apart. There was always a connection, an instant pull that always brought the both of you back to each other, almost like how no matter how far any of you went, you never forgot your way back home.

After some time, you finally noticed the little note written in the bottom left corner of the painting, just like in the first one. But this one was different. This sentence was the one that would change your whole life for you. In the best way possible. It read :

The day that 12-year-old fell in love, without even knowing what love meant. All he knew was that he was going to love that girl with everything he had, till his last days and beyond.

Your breath hitched in your throat. He loved you.

Bucky Barnes was in love with you.

That's when it hit you.

Everything you have ever wanted. The only thing your heart has ever yearned for, was right in front of you all along.

The love that you had read about in books, the kind of love that swallowed you whole until there was no part left untouched, the love that you have looked for your entire life, has been right there. Right beside you. In the form of the oceanic blue eyes that had enamored you for the last 20 years.

You were in love with your best friend.

The realization doesn't hit you like a truck, or leave you gasping in surprise, it brings with it a sense of peace, a sense of everything falling into place.

You look around frantically searching for the man that you had loved all along without ever knowing it.

You loved him when he fought those bullies to protect Steve and got hurt in the process.

You had loved him when he had brought you cookies when you had gotten sick during Christmas, not being able to move.

You had loved him when you had supported him in his decision to do what his heart desired, in his journey of becoming an artist.

You had loved him when the both of you had said your goodbyes while leaving for college in distant cities when the tears had fallen from your eyes and on the ground and he had comforted you that your friendship won't fall apart.

You had loved him in the nights that were spent staring at the stars together, in the afternoons that had been spent watching movies, curled up beside each other, just the two of you.

You had loved him then, and you love him now and you were pretty sure you were going to love him till the world was nothing but dust.

A light suddenly gets switched on just beside the old painting, and this time too, it's you.

Painted years after the last one, it's you staring at the night sky, a soft, content look on your face.

This time, your eyes frantically search for the note, and sure enough, it's right there, at the bottom.

'Cause, darling without you,

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the night sky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

You can now feel tears rolling down your cheeks, as your lips turn into the widest grin possible.

You turn around and as you do so, all the lights in the room begin to turn on, each revealing a painting of you. Taken in the simplest moments.

There is one with you in the kitchen, covered in flour, a pout evident on your face as you had tried to bake a cake for the first time.

There was one where you were sitting at the beach, staring into the ocean.

The one that you liked the most was the one in which you were sleeping contently, a blanket loosely draped over you, that you could swear hadn't been there before.

Before you can look at the rest of them, a voice comes from the corner of the hall and you turn just in time to look at Bucky Barnes himself.

Your smile grew wider if it was even possible and you almost ran off to embrace him when he started speaking.

"One day, you asked me why I drew. Why I felt the need to express whatever it was I felt through a canvas. I didn't tell you, then, but now I want to, doll.

It's you. It's always been you. You have been my muse, my pillar of support, my motivation to get up every morning, my need to paint because there was no other way I could express to the girl I was in love with that she was all I ever dreamt about. That she was everything I could ever want.

I love you, doll. I love you with everything I am and everything I'll ever be. There are a hundred ways this could fall apart, and trust me, I have thought about each one of them more than I should have. But if there is one chance that this could work, that I could be yours, not just in movie nights or weekly trips to the grocery market, but in every way possible, I want to take that chance. In slow mornings and in intimate nights, in tough days and in the celebratory evenings, I want you, I need you to be a part of all of them, doll because life just doesn't feel like life without you."

As if your feet had gained a mind of their own you ran towards him, circling your arms around his neck and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was gentle, soft, full of need and unspoken feelings, of time lost, it was everything .

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, not wanting to ever let go.

Finally, when the both of you pulled away, still staying close with the widest possible grins on your faces, you whispered, "I love you too, Buck. So damn much." You say it so slowly, it feels like a dream to him.

You would one day shout out to the world how much you loved him, but for now, it was going to be your little moment. When the city of Brooklyn went about its day just like it did every day, two people who were irresistibly, irrevocably in love with each other stood there, holding each other, in the gentlest of embraces, embers of their love while keeping them warm, strong enough to burn the whole world down.

You stay there for what feels like forever before Bucky whispers. "Doll, be my muse?"

You look up at him, drowning in his oceanic blue eyes, only to reach home, before you whisper, "Forever."  

#bucky barnes #aritst!bucky #marvel #oneshot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #artist au #childhood best friends to lovers #love #love confessions #fluff #bucky barnes fluff #art #painting #connect4au

[tonystarkisadouchebag]

Once again remembering how Tony wasn't one of Steve's friends, but merely his annoying ass co-worker

The Stark that was actually Steve's friend is Howard

I still think one of the most disappointing things about the Avengers movies is that they never liked each other. It never felt like they had a fun team dynamic that grew and developed in satisfying ways over time. Tony feels partly responsible for this because everyone basically hated him before he had his martyr moment in Endgame. He was just endlessly cruel and mysoginistic to his teammates.

Civil War lacks the punch it should've had because Tony tells us that he and Steve were friends, but you have to laugh because since when?! Why was that never shown? Why would Steve choose a bully coworker over the one person who's always been there for him? Age of Ultron and Civil War were huge mistakes that caused irreparable harm.

#anti ironman #anti tony stark #ask #mcu criticism #mcu critical

[gayboysteve]

Genuinely why do people think Steve can't be a fully actualized person and a love interest at the same time? Do you guys just passively consume media without, like, paying attention? Steve has been his own fully developed person since season two. We don't need to know ever detail of his life to know who he is as a person. We know the moral fiber of his character and the strength of his will. We know he loves passionately and will do anything to help. We know he's a catty bitch that doesn't get along with his dad.

Not... everything has to be shown to us for Steve to be a real fleshed out character. There are definitely places where things fall flat (letting him even feel pain after his many beatings or torture of being eaten) but being a love interest is not one of the things where the Duffers have fucked up on him. Besides Nancy, he has the most character development out of the teens and he has an actual character arc that's been percolating since season one.

You don't need to ship Stancy or like it. That's not necessary. I personally wasn't a shipper until recently (though I never hated it like some people, I've just always focused more on the Steve and the kids or Steve and Robin) and I have to say it makes a lot of sense in the scheme of things for the love triangle to be reignited. Steve and Jonathan are not just contenders for Nancy's love, they both represent something for her journey and her picking one of them will be indicative of the path she's taking. Steve's speech about learning to crawl forward wasn't just about him, that was a display of what Steve's character can offer to Nancy's character as a romantic partner. The ability to learn to MOVE ON. TO CRAWL FORWARD.

Nancy as we know is still trapped in her grief from Barb and while Jonathan has helped her get justice from that tragedy he never helped her move PAST the pain of it. One represents moving forward, and Jonathan sadly this last season, represented regression.

Personally, I think it's Jonathan more than anyone that needs to not be in a relationship. It hasn't ever seemed to make him happy. I don't think Jonathan will ever be happy until he's allowed to get away from his family a little bit. The parentification Joyce did to him really fucked that boy up and he needs, in my opinion, to focus on himself more than anyone.

Nancy has expressly stated before that she doesn't want to be alone! Steve has expressly stated he wants love and romance and a family! They're still young they can work out their future later, why can't they find some happiness in coming back together stronger and more fully self actualized? More mature and developed? I think it actually makes for a very fitting end from a narrative standpoint which is, honestly, what convinced me to switch over to the ship in the first place.

Neither Steve nor Nancy have ever been reduced to just love interests. Even in season one when Steve is explicitly introduced as only a love interest, he actually has his own character arc going on. All following seasons Steve and Nancy (whether dating, broken up, or flirting) have all had plots not related to their romance. No one is being reduced to just a romantic interest. Unfortunately, poor Jonathan is the one that got that treatment. He's the one that needs to have something devoted to just him; something that isn't just being a brother or a boyfriend. Giving him a friend was a step in the right direction. Let's give him a dream now and not just something that we hear from Joyce. A real dream from Jonathan's mouth. Because all we've heard from him are the things he DOESN'T want for the future.

Also Stoncy supremacy anyway. Let all three fuck nasty.

(Let's not bring up the whole six nuggets things. I highly doubt Steve is actually going to expect six children from his future partner. It was a reference to the party. It was him lightening the mood and trying to bring some levity to a serious, and frankly, terrifying, situation. It was him trying to make Nancy laugh while laying his heart on the line. He's not expect six literal children.)

#steve harrington #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #stancy #stoncy #stranger things

[alittlebitofloveliness]

5, 14, 15, 17

More outsiders asks? Heck yeah!

5. What are your favourite ships?

a) Curly Shepard x Ponyboy Curtis- idk why other than the fact that fanon Curly seems to balance out Ponyboy perfectly, and that I read a Curly fit on ffn when I was like fifteen that fundamentally changed my brain chemistry

b) Steve Randle x Sodapop Curtis- I don’t like any other within gang ship but Soda and Steve make sense to me and ngl my closeted ass clocked them as gay when I was reading the book because of the ‘pillow fight’ scene. I genuinely answered a comprehension question in class like ‘Ponyboy’s naïveté is shown through the fact he believes soda never drinks and that Soda and Steve were having a pillow fight when they slept together’ and my teacher had to be like oh sweetie no….

c) Marcia x Two-bit Matthews- Not a HUGE fan but they had such chemistry and I wish that could’ve been explored. I’m actually working on a fit about them rn, just because I wanna explore Marcia’s psyche. She was fun :)

14. Five headcanons I basically see as canon

a) Steve is secretly SUPER protective of Ponyboy, partially because he knows Sodapop would never be ok if something ever happened to Pony and he couldn’t stand it if Soda’s spark ever went out, but also because he wants Ponyboy to have the happy childhood he never had.

b) Darry absolutely dotes on Ponyboy, even though he’s strict, he’s lenient about letting Pony go places and works overtime to make sure he can afford to get Ponyboy everything he needs (and some stuff he simply wants), especially after Windrixville.

c) Johnny Cade is scary looking. Full stop. The gang just doesn’t see him that way so it doesn’t show in Ponyboy’s narration

d) Dallas Winston had a good mom and a happy childhood and her death was the catalyst that made him into the hoodlum he was.

e) Sodapop Curtis absolutely drinks, Ponyboy just doesn’t believe he does and Soda is not anxious to correct him because he doesn’t want Ponyboy to see him differently

15. Five headcanons that are entirely self-indulgent

a) Angela Shepard and Curly Shepard have to share a room because Tim refuses to share with anyone. Neither of them actually hates it half as much as they pretend they do.

b) Part of why Curly and Ponyboy became close was because Ponyboy was struggling with getting over his concussion, and the side effects were really stressful for him (dizzy spells, blurry vision, absentmindedness) and Curly kinda helped him with it because Curly spent 90% of his childhood concussed so he knew what Pony was going through

c) Tim Shepard and Sylvia are best friends and would kill for each other but not die for each other. However, they would avenge each other’s deaths.

d) Steve Randle wishes more than anything in the world that Darry Curtis was actually his irl older brother 

e) Two-bit’s little sister HATES Ponyboy Curtis because her older brother spends more time playing older brother to him than he spends actually being an older brother to her.

17. Are there any criticisms or salt you have with the book?

My criticisms with the book lie with the author. SE Hinton has proven to be homophobic and racist, and its written into the book, which is my biggest issue. I love the story of The Outsiders but do not want to support Hinton or her harmful, bigoted ideology under any circumstances. (For anyone out there who wants a copy of the book but doesn’t want to support Hinton, you can find a free pdf online, all you gotta do is google it)

On a slightly lighter note, I would have loved to have seen more of the female characters in the book. Marcia in particular had so much potential, and I wish we’d seen one actual scene with Sandy or Sylvia.

Thanks for the ask!!!!!

#the outsiders #angela shepard #curly shepard #tim shepard #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #sodapop curtis #dallas winston #headcanon #two bit mathews #marcia the outsiders #marcia x two bit #purly #steve randle #stevepop

[majaloveschris]

I need to vent a little.

Even though we had the Page Six article of Chrisba meeting Harry and Meghan and that Mark started following Justin, things had been relativly quiet. No big drama, no something that seemed too important. This morning I woke up to this whole Carlisle and IMDb thing, and I don't know why, but it's usually the Carlisle house and blurry pictures that make me realize how much I hate this whole situation. I'm just tired of it.

I made this account around April 2022, a year and a half ago. Looking back at it, it's crazy how things have changed. How all of us changed. How our view of Chris has changed.

My only goal with this blog was to share my opinion about this and my point of view. In the beginning, I think most people were confused about what's going on here and why everything was so weird. People were freaked out because of her age, and 16 years turned into racism, fatphobia, and people who support nazis.

We all said and still say it's going to get better, but when? I find myself not wanting to talk about this or deal with this whole situation, especially on those days when life feels too much for me. I don't want to argue with anyone; I don't want to argue whether the Carlisle house is his or if they are going to live there or not. I don't want to argue whether he was in a blurry picture or not. I don't want to argue whether they are real or not. I just don't anymore. I never wanted to convince people that I'm right or that I know what's going on, because I'm not. I only want to share my opinion; that's it, and sometimes people here make me want to leave much more than this weird whatevership does.

I'm just tired of them. Tired of their stupid followings, likes, and comments...Of their stupid stories filled with little signs and tired of them tiring to make this believable when they are clearly incapable of selling whatever this is. I'm tired of their games, and I'm surprised that they aren't tired of playing them. I'm tired that now even those who aren't involved are trying to "troll" the fandom for attention.

Whenever we think it's getting better, they just do something even worse, and it obviously has an effect on us. His actually being in love with her and wanting to spend the rest of his life with her (which seems very unlikely when you look at them) would mean he is okay with their values and that he agrees with them. I think I could "forgive" him for this being PR, but if he wants to actually be with her, I don't want to support that with my money and time.

There are always and will always be people who cross the line when it comes to their favorite celebrity, but this situation seems to get the worst out of everyone, of those who are directly and indirectly involved. Since the very first Las Vegas day, we have been shown that if you want to know what is actually going on, you need to look for clues. On videos, on pictures, among somebody's following list, or among those people who liked something, I know that now people say, Why do we even care about whom he dates? I didn't really care that much about them being real or not until her and her friends pasts came out. Up until that point, the only thing that bugged me about this whole thing was that Justin and Alba seemed to troll the fandom for attention, and I didn't like the way they tried to take advantage of Chris and his fandom.

Some people can't seem to understand the actual problem with him being connected to them. I don't want to support someone who is okay with the behavior of Alba and her friends. But it's hard to believe and seems impossible to me that the man we'd seen for 20+ years has never existed. He is not that good of an actor, and I don't think somebody would be able to play a role for decades.

I have a lot of movies with him in them that I love and want to rewatch, but this whole situation makes it really hard for me. I only see him. I see him when I look at Colin, or Andy, or Ransom, or Steve, or any of his characters. I miss that guy who was always smiling and laughing during an interview. I miss the guy who seemed happy and healthy. Right now he isn't even the shadow of his old self.

I don't want this to come across as me complaining. I know that nobody forces me to be here. I know that I could just delete this blog and go on with my life, but I like having my blogs. I like coming here and talking to my friends; I like seeing funny edits; and I like making funny edits. I would love to talk about his projects, make edits, and share photos and videos. I had so many things in mind prior to the whole wedding thing, which may always remain in my gallery and my drafts.

I will still continue with this blog, but I needed to write it down how I feel, because I think a lot of us feel this way. I'm staying; I'm not leaving because I need to know how this whole thing is going to end, and I still have some hope in him.

#maja's random thoughts #cevans-love

[paul-ster]

Why do you hate Steve so much?

Not trying to be mean at all

Just generally curious to what he did to make you despise him?

He’s fugly <3

Jk, but in The Outsiders, he’s never given a proper part. Of course we can see that he’s snarky and all of that. But- that isn’t character. No, that’s just him being a dick.

And I hate how he’s characterized (in fandom) as sweet and all of that when he acts so uniquely with Ponyboy. While I don’t mind much about him, there’s just a certain distaste I get for Steve.

His whole character is just bullying Ponyboy >:( And honestly, while it can be funny- he doesn’t offer anything. We know that him and Soda are best friends and that he might have a heart. (When Dallas was shot and he cried, also when Two-Bit tried pretending to be sad over a switchblade in which Steve gets angry) But that doesn’t define him.

Ive done a character study on him and have come to the fact that he doesn’t have ambitions. He isn’t shown to have goals or basically a reason for being in the book. I don’t hate Steve, but rather the lack of “Steve”

With Ponyboy and Johnny you get character, you understand their goals and reasons. You’re actually able to connects it’s something that’s there. But, Steve’s only ambition is to bully Ponyboy (which in my case doesn’t help because i love Ponyboy. I hate you Steve… 😒)

I feel like I can go on for days about how much I hate Steve. While it’ll feel like I’m going in circles for disliking Steve, it’s because THERES NOTHING ELSE TO HIM! He’s just a random greaser with daddy issues. Like cmon, EVERY GREASER HAS DADDY ISSUES.

S.E Hinton made practically a character that serves no purpose other than to show Ponyboys character development. And I hate how much potential he had. But hates kinda a strong word, THAT FITS STEVE DUDE. He probably doesn’t even know how to spell it man.

Someone put him through character development and I’ll change my opinions. But for now, just understand that I cannot enjoy something that is nothing. And- to be rude- Steve is nothing. Nothing maleable to give a sense to actually like him.

You don’t like Steve. You like what Steve could’ve been. And that’s what pisses me the most off about Steve.

Rant over, what if I said everything above was a joke? ;3

#yap session #I wrote a lot but didn’t mean anything #I just hate Steve Randle #he should go eat a handle 😒 #:3 #the outsiders #ao3 writer #fanfic #se hinton #write #writer #steve randle

[demonsandmischief]

Tipsy

A Captain America Imagine

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

600 Words

Fluffy AU because Steve can't actually get drunk because of the serum

-Tipsy-

In which Steve gets a little drunk at a party.

---

You and Steve Rogers had gone to a party hosted by none other than Tony Stark. You hated parties and would rather keep what little downtime you had with your boyfriend to yourself, but the billionaire had insisted. Besides, it had been awhile since Steve had a chance to be around his friends without work being involved.

Even Thor had shown up.

You didn't drink much, just stuck to your one glass of something fruity and wandered the large ballroom to find someone to talk to.

You were grabbed from behind and you gasped, twisting around to find your boyfriend's broody features to be brighter than usual. His lips quirked up as he pulled you against his chest.

"Steve," you gasped. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," his deep voice said over the music. He took your drink, setting it down on the table next to him. "You just look so damn beautiful in this dress."

His hands slid down from your waist. You had to physically move them back up from your butt, which seemed to amuse him.

"You're drunk," you concluded, never seeing him act in such a way.

"I'm not that drunk," he reassured. "I saw you dancing over there. It was very hot."

"Hot?" you asked, feeling a flush run up your neck. Your typical stoic, reserved Captain would never say that. You bit back your amused smile.

"Come on," he teased. "Show me your moves."

You shook your head no.

"Don't get shy on me now, honey," Steve said. He took your hand, twirling you in a circle.

You laughed, and he bent his head to swallow the sound. His lips meshed with yours roughly, and he cupped your cheeks to hold you in place. Heat flooded your body, and you could taste the alcohol on his lips.

You pulled back.

"We're at a party," you protested, trying to get the words out against his persistent kisses.

"So?"

"So," you repeated with another laugh. "So you can't kiss me like that with people around."

He looked like he was going to protest, but someone called his name from behind. Steve straightened. His features defaulted back to their typical stern position, and he wrapped you protectively by his side.

"Tony," Steve greeted.

You were surprised by the quick change. Maybe he really wasn't that drunk.

"It's been a great party," you offered.

"Right, thanks," Tony nodded, throwing back what was left in his glass with one swallow. "Like the whole room didn't see you try to swallow each other just now."

You felt the blush fill your cheeks.

"What do you need?" Steve asked.

"Nothing important," Tony answered. "I just heard a rumour about some strong Asgardian alcohol that has cost me several thousand dollars."

"What do you mean?" Steve's frown didn't change.

"Thor started smashing stuff Hulk-style. He kept throwing his glass, demanding more drinks. I heard that he had shared whatever he had brought with you, and wanted to make sure you weren't about to start destroying the place."

"I'm fine," Steve said.

Tony walked away, and Steve lowered his head to speak close to you. "I just can't wait to get you home."

You giggled, feeling the heat coil throughout your body. You squirmed away from his moving hands. He kissed you again, pulling you flush against him.

"Fine," you give in. "Let's get out of here before you make a scene."

Steve smirked, taking your hand.

---

-> masterlist to read more Cap fics

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-> requests always open

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#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america x reader #captain america fluff #captain america #marvel imagine

[avengerscompound]

The Recruit - 35. Steve

The Recruit - An Avengers Fanfiction

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Word Count: 2636

Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of rape

Synopsis:  When Sam Wilson is set up on a blind date, he doesn’t expect anything to come from it.  He is already in a relationship after all, and not just with one other person, but a whole group of them. You never expected to end up working for the Avengers let alone be dating six of them at the same time.  Now you’re balancing a new job, a new romance, new friends, and a secret that could destroy a lot of lives if it got out.  It’s a tricky balance to get right at the best of times, but when something happens to Steve Rogers it’s up to the people who love him most to get him back.

35. Steve

Steve took one last look at himself in the mirror.  He’d dressed up.  A gunmetal three-piece suit with a pale blue tie to bring out his eyes. It was probably the most formally he’d ever dressed to go out on a date.  Dating in general had been limited.  He and Bucky had gone on the odd double date.  He’d gone out for drinks with Sam.  He'd taken Sharon out to dinner and dancing a few times.  But no date had been particularly formal or fancy.  And since becoming part of a rather large polycule, dating had been taken right off the table.

It felt strange now to be taking you out to an expensive restaurant.  Risky even.  Things had changed in the few weeks since they’d pulled that sentient black sludge from him.  For so long the group had been keeping what they had secret, and he’d known how much everyone had hated that.  While they agreed with him that keeping the secret was important, it was always him that pushed to keep it, because he didn’t want to upset the public or seem unprofessional.  He’d been more worried about people questioning if they were good enough people to act as heroes, than about the feelings of the people he loved.

There was something that this whole ordeal had shown him, Sam, Bucky, Sharon, Natasha, Clint, and you had all stuck by him at his absolute worst, trying to help him back to the light, and he couldn’t trust the public to stick with him at his absolute best.  His priorities were all wrong and he needed to put the feelings of the people he loved before the perceived judgment from people who didn’t even know him.

They were no longer going to keep the relationship a secret.  Not that they’d be unprofessional at work, or make a big statement about how they were in a seven-person polycule.  They just weren’t going to hide anymore.  They’d go out together.  If they were out of uniform and outside, they’d show affection to each other without worrying about being spotted.  They’d go on actual dates.  They’d take this relationship in the natural direction that it would go if it was just two people and if that meant they stayed happy in the tower in separate apartments, so be it, but if it meant a commitment ceremony and moving in together and having a family, then he’d be open to that too.

That was starting with you today.  He was taking you to a nice restaurant and splurging, because after spending months, struggling to get to know a version of Steve that was wrong, you deserved the chance of getting the best version of him, and to get spoiled at the same time.  It still felt weird after so long hiding things, but he wanted to do this for you.  He wanted to restart with his best foot forward.

He made his way down to your room and knocked on the door.  You opened it and he felt his breath catch.  You were breathtaking, obviously taking his instruction to dress up to heart.  Your makeup was flawless, and you wore a red A-line dress with a heart-shaped bodice and halter neck.  The halter strap was black lace and the lace traced around the neckline.  There was a matching sash around the waist, black ribbon laced up the back, and black mesh poking out from underneath the skirt.

“Wow,” Steve breathed as he took you in.  “You look beautiful.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said approaching him.  There was a slight hesitation before he leaned down and kissed you.  He had meant it to be just a peck on the lips, but your hand went to his lapel and you held him there, one foot kicking out behind you.

It felt good.  Right.  Yes - he had spent months and months connecting with you with a dark passenger inside him twisting his thoughts, but he’d still been there.  The real Steve had still gotten to know you.  He had kissed you many times - this was just the first time he’d done it since that day in the hot tub where there hadn’t been a voice trying to turn it into something dark.  This kiss was familiar but different and it felt more right.  It was real and it was him connecting with you.

You pulled back slowly, sucking softly on his plump bottom lip.  “Mmm… that was nice.”

He hummed in agreement as he looked at you.  You seemed a little dazed and you took a moment to shake it off.  When you did, you patted his chest and gestured for the door. “So where are we going?”

“Tony pulled some strings and got us reservations at the Polo Bar,” Steve said as he stepped outside.

You paused as you pulled the door closed behind them and you started laughing.  “Oh boy.”

Steve wasn’t sure what had just happened.  Was there something wrong with the polo bar?  “What’s the matter?” he asked.  “Bad choice?  Tony said it was the place to be.”

You wrapped your arm around his elbow and leaned into him again. “It’s fine. I’m sure the food will be really good…”

“But?”

“But,” you said.  “My first date with Sam was at a really expensive, fancy place too.  And we were both awkward and uncomfortable in it until we left and did something more relaxed.”  The two of you arrived at the elevator and got on board and you turned to look at him.  “See the thing is, he was trying to impress me instead of get to know me.  Honestly, I think he specifically didn’t want to get to know me, because he was dating you and he didn’t want to fall for someone else.”

Steve smiled affectionately.  “He did anyway.”

You laughed and dropped your gaze.  “He did.  Because we ditched it before we ordered and we just walked around.  We got to know each other and we had fun just being us.”  You touched his chest again and looked up into his eyes.  Steve smiled and put his hand on yours as he gazed down at you.  “You don’t seem like a fancy restaurant type, Steve.  If you are, then I’m happy to be corrected, but we’re going on this date because we need to get to know each other.  We should do something that will let me do that.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile.  You were totally right.  He’d already won you over.  Now you just needed to get to know each other.  He nodded.  “You’re right.  Scratch the Polo Bar.  What can we do instead?”

The doors opened into the lobby and the two of you stepped out. “That’s really up to you.  Who is Steve Rogers?  Is he going to the theater?  Does he like to dance?  Bowling?  Ping Pong?  Amusement Parks?  Boat rides?  Ball games?  Live music?  Dinner and a movie?  The great thing about New York is that there’s always something happening.”

He nodded in agreement and stopped you before you went out the front door.  “Let’s walk for a bit while I think.  But before we step outside, that’s going to be a little crazy out there.  How do you want to do this?”

You looked out where the usual mill of paparazzi and fans were hanging around and seemed to consider things for a moment before returning his gaze.  “Can I loop my arm with yours and stay close?”

He smiled and offered you his arm.  “Of course.”

The two of you walked outside.  There had been no official statement about any of the team dating yet, and so this was the first time anyone had been out publicly together.  The reaction to Steve stepping outside with you was instantaneous.  People started calling out Steve’s name and they swarmed in.  Security tried to hold them back and make a path for you to escape through, but you were planning on walking.  Steve quickly altered the plan.  He held you close to him and stepped out into the street, flagging down the first cab he could get, and the two of you climbed into the back.

“Where to?” the driver asked as he pulled back out into the street.

“Just drive around for a bit.  We haven’t quite decided that.  We just need to get away from that crowd,” Steve answered as he buckled up.

“You’ve got it, Cap,” the driver said.

Steve turned his attention back to you.  “A lot of what you suggested sounds good.  I love musicals and I haven’t seen one in so long.  But it’s not great for getting to know each other. I would love to go swing dancing, but you know what?  I think I’d like for that to be something we all do together.”

“Oh yeah,” you agreed.  “That would be amazing.”

“I have to admit, I’m really heavily drawn to a ballgame.  I loved going to the game when I was younger.  We always sat so far back.  But even if there was a game on tonight, it’ll be a cold day in hell that I support the Yankees.”

You snorted and pulled out your phone.  “You, Steven Rogers, are in luck.  The Mets are playing the Phillies.  The game starts in ten minutes, so we’ll be about twenty minutes late, but that’s okay.  What happens in the first twenty minutes anyway?”

“You’re really fine with that?” Steve asked. 

“Totally fine.  Sitting in the stands, talking, watching a game.  We can get a hotdog, a lobster roll, and some kind of spiked lemonade.  It��ll be fun.  And who knows, maybe you’ll have a new team.”

“That’d be nice,” he agreed.  “Because I can’t support the Dodgers now they’ve defected.”

You laughed and nudged him. “See, I’m already learning more about you.”  You leaned over and tapped on the glass. “Citi Field please.”

On the drive to Queens, you bought the tickets.  Steve tried to argue but you said the site was already open.  So Steve said he was paying for the food.  He even placed the orders for that via the app, so within forty minutes not only were the two of you in the stadium, but you were seated with your food and drinks.  Steve had gone a little overboard.  Well - he needed the extra food, he burned calories like a furnace burned paper.  Things had changed in the world of ballpark food since he was a kid, and he no longer had to worry that buying a hotdog would both eat up all his money and make him violently ill.  So when he saw the huge variety of things available on the app, he decided to let loose.  The box of food that Steve had carried to their seats was huge and contained a lobster roll, a chopped cheese sandwich, a fried chicken sandwich, two spiked lemonades - one strawberry and vodka and the other blackberry and tequila, and two classic Nathan’s hotdogs with sauerkraut.  He set the box on the ground between the two of you and you each grabbed something from the box.

“I might just take bites from everything if you’re cool with that,” you said.

“I’m very cool with that,” he agreed.  “A little sampler for you.”

You took a bite of the sandwich and leaned in against him, as you stared out at the game in front of you.  “Do you think we can talk about it?”

Steve had talked about it so many times now, he was honestly getting sick of it.  But he owed it to you.  He took a bite of his hot dog and sighed. “Sure.  Of course.  I guess there are things you need to know.”

“What was it like?” you asked.

“To begin with, it was almost like being drunk but without the thoughts being impaired.  It was like all my inhibitions were taken away.  When I slept with you, it was me that wanted to do it, but it was a kind of primal part of me that’s usually pretty quiet.  I was already attracted to you, but this me, the me without that thing in there needs more than that to let go.  I need to know you,” he explained.  “After a while, it was like another voice was there that I couldn’t seem to resist.  And the longer it went, the more it convinced me to do things that I would never do.  It was like it was pulling my ID to the surface.  Sometimes I was fine.  If things were calm and I was just hanging out with you all, I was just me. But if something annoyed me, it just took control and where I might normally just be annoyed, I would be furious.  I was taking it out on anything near me.  If it was sex, I was the most animalistic it could make me.  The things I did - I do when I’m asked, and it’s not that I don’t enjoy them, I enjoy making my lovers feel good.  But that wasn’t me.  That was it using my body.”

Your brow furrowed and you took his hand. “Oh god, Steve.  I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head.  “No… it’s… I don’t feel violated.  At least not sexually.”

“Are you sure?  Because it sounds like it did.  That we did,” you said, looking deep into his eyes.

“I promise,” he said.  “I never felt like my body was being used to sate someone else’s desire.  I felt like someone was just changing the way I enacted my desires.  I don’t know if that makes sense.  Like I said, I do those kinds of things and I want to sleep with all of you.  I enjoy being rough.  But it made me want them in a way that removed the whole reason I normally enjoy them.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes, and if anything, I feel like I violated all of you.  Or it did… or…” he shook his head.  He couldn’t even figure out how to describe this voice in him that wasn’t him but changed him.  It hurt.  He hurt.  He felt guilty and angry about everything.  “I feel like you were all sleeping with a stranger.  And I feel worst for you because at least the others knew what they were seeing was my bad days amped up to a thousand.  They could see me and they were humoring me in the hopes that therapy could get under control.  They were trying to help get the man they loved back.  But you - you were falling for this monstrous version of me.”

He turned away from you, and you reached up, turning his cheek so he was making eye contact with you again. “I need you to listen to me, Steve.  I told everyone I loved them.  All of them.  But not you.  There’s been something holding me back.  I don’t know what that thing was making you do or not, but talking to you now I can guess. There were times I think I was turned on by that darkness.  And there were times that darkness scared the absolute shit out of me.  But the whole time I kept thinking; ‘When would I get to see that sweet man I spent time in the hot tub with.’  I think I haven’t told you I loved you, because I knew I wasn’t seeing you yet.”

Steve’s gaze softened, and he reached up, caressing your cheek. “You are so special.  I hope you know that.”

“I feel special,” you said.  “I have five people who all love me.  And I think one more who is on the way to.”

Steve smiled and nodded.  He leaned in just a little. “Oh, well on the way,” he said, and he kissed you.

// NEXT

#avengers #marvel #avengers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #sharon carter #natasha romanoff #clint barton #avengers fanfic #clint barton x bucky barnes x sharon carter x steve rogers x natasha romanoff x sam wilson x reader #reader insert #smut #polyamory #fanfic #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #sharon carter x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #the recruit

[steventhusiast]

What if Steve and Eddie knew each other and were dating before everything happened with the Upside Down, but no one knew? What would the aftermath of Eddie’s death look like for Steve?

Also on AO3

It had been two days since their fight with Vecna. The fight that they’d won. But Steve didn’t feel like he’d won.

He felt like he’d lost everything.

“This is Slingshot. Come in, Babysitter, are you still driving us to the school today? over.”

“I don’t think Steve’s on the supercoms right now, Lucas… Over.”

“Hey! You were the one who said we had to use codenames, use your codename, Gold Leader! Babysitter, do you copy? Over.”

“Right… This is Gold Leader. I haven’t heard from Babysitter in a few days. Over.”

“What crawled up your ass, man? Over.”

The kids had been a source of non-stop chatter on the supercoms pretty much from the moment everyone had separated a day and a half ago. Dustin was definitely more subdued than usual, but Steve understood that on a level none of the kids were aware of. He knew he should reply, let them know he was in fact alive and ready for their plans later in the day, but he just couldn’t.

For the past twelve hours he hadn’t moved from his spot in bed; he lay on top of his sheets, still topless and coated in grime and bandages and dried blood, curled in on himself in an attempt to find comfort in the fetal position. In his hands, he gripped onto bloodied denim that he knew well. He hadn’t actually managed to let go of the denim vest since everything happened. It was either being worn, or being caressed, or being cuddled, or just held.

There was familiarity in holding it, even when its owner was nowhere to be found. Steve found himself thumbing over the uneven stitches at the edge of patches, just letting his hands fidget with what used to be his favourite piece of clothing Eddie owned. It just had so much of him in it. It was haphazard and rushed and focused more on cramming as many pins, cutouts and patches on as possible than on laying things out nicely. It was a little much, just like Eddie was. Steve didn’t like the addition of blood to it.

With a sigh, Steve closed his eyes, let his grip on the jacket tighten slightly, and imagined Eddie was still there, still wearing it. In his imagination all the dried blood was gone, and the only grime to be found were sauce stains. He imagined that Eddie was lying opposite him, curled onto his side too, hair splayed out on the pillow under his head and his arms curled up to his chest. Eddie would always lay like that, letting his eyes drink up Steve’s appearance every time like he’d never seen him before, occasionally ring-covered fingers coming up to trace over the freckles and moles that littered Steve’s face. But Eddie would never do that again.

Steve’s lips, that had slowly formed into a ghost of a smile, dipped into a frown again. His lips pursed without his permission, and he felt the traitorous stinging behind his eyes again. He told Eddie not to be a hero.

He opened his eyes, and slowly dragged his line of sight to the left pocket. His hands shook a bit, and his eyes started to blur, but he didn’t pay that any mind as he fumbled with the jacket to look at the inside of it, fingers searching for the back of where that left breast pocket was. Where he knew there was pink thread embroidered, the outline of a heart with a little ‘S’ in the centre– his pointer finger found it, and his vision blurred even more as a tear escaped. (“Gotta put the key to my heart over my heart, Stevie.” Eddie had said when he’d first shown Steve the messy stitches. He’d been smirking proudly, even as Steve rolled his eyes. “Okay, milady. Pretend you hate it, I see that blush.”).

Steve sniffed harshly, and let one hand come away from the denim to wipe at his face.

He had two hours before he had to leave to pick up Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Will. He hoped they would be fine cramming themselves in the backseat, because Robin was coming with them too. No way would Steve be able to get through the day without his birdie there at least.

She had a way of just knowing when he needed her unwavering support. She’d be there for him, and not ask questions if he told her not. Even if she didn’t know what was going on, or why he was being the way he was.

None of them knew, really.

As far as the party was concerned, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson first officially met that night in the boathouse, when Eddie held a broken bottle up to Steve’s neck. They’d never had a chance to really become friends. But that wasn’t the truth.

The truth was Steve and Eddie had properly known each other for about a year.

(Steve’s hands shook slightly as he drove toward the quarry. After a gruelling nightmare that left him feeling wide awake and wired, he gave up entirely on sleep and decided to go and watch the night sky until the sun rose.

The quarry and its quietness had always been a source of peace for him, and at—he glanced at his watch for a split second—three in the morning, he didn’t expect anyone else to be at the quarry.

So imagine his surprise when he pulled up next to a beat up van, and glanced out toward the cliff’s edge to see someone laying back with his legs carelessly hanging over the edge, a half-smoked joint in hand.

He sighed, but got out of the car anyway. Those moonlit dark curls looked somewhat familiar, so he felt safe doing so despite the time. He always had the nail bat in his car if the person ended up being not so friendly.

The sound of his car door shutting meant suddenly there were eyes on him, the curly haired man tilting his head back on the ground so he could squint at him.

“Harrington..?” The figure mumbled, squinting a little harder, “Why’re you upside down, man?”

Steve couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, and he walked closer to sit down cross legged by the stranger. He finally got a better look at him, the moonlight and lit spliff held up to the man’s face letting him recognise him. Not a stranger after all, but Eddie Munson, the school’s resident drug dealer.

“Ohhh you’re rightside up again, haha..” Eddie spoke to himself, relaxing back into the ground and letting his eyes go back to the sky.

“Munson, right?” Steve checked. He got a half smirk in response, and a raised eyebrow.

“The king knows who I am? Colour me flattered.”

Steve scoffed.

“Hardly a king anymore.”)

Talking to Eddie was easy, especially at night with the help of some weed. They were fast friends. And for about six months, Steve and Eddie had been more than friends. They became SteveandEddie. Inseparable. But different to how Steve and Robin were SteveandRobin. In his head, Steve had started to call Eddie his soulmate. He didn’t even think he believed in that kind of stuff, but he felt it deep within himself that he and Eddie were meant to know each other. Had always been fated to know each other like that.To love each other.

He wished he’d gotten over himself and told all his friends. Wished the new, tentative part of himself he’d discovered eight months ago hadn’t terrified him so deeply he couldn’t even talk about it with his platonic other half. Robin didn’t even know he’d had a sexuality crisis, let alone that he was mooning over Eddie Munson. She didn’t even know Steve knew Eddie Munson! But Steve wished Robin got to see his goofy smile that was strictly reserved for Eddie, wished she’d gotten to know Eddie because he just knew in his heart they’d be great friends. Just like how he knew in his heart that none of the party would care that he was dating a boy, and hadn’t told them anyway.

And now he was well and truly alone. No one knew he and Eddie had been together, no one knew they’d been friends, no one knew Steve was being eaten alive by grief. They all just wanted him to continue on, business as usual. Didn’t and wouldn’t understand that he wasn’t doing okay.

He huffed as his two-way radio came to life again.

“This is Birdie, I’m on my way to Babysitter HQ. You better not leave me hanging, dingus. Over.”

At least it was Robin this time, not one of the kids. He willed himself to sit up and reach over for the device.

“This is Babysitter. I copy, Birdie. See you soon.” His voice sounded rough and dull to his own ears, but as soon as he stopped sending, the radio lit up with noise again, so he held the push-to-talk button down again for a moment, “Over and out.”

And then he turned the radio off, because he had about twenty minutes before Robin got there, and his room and his person was a mess. He glanced down at the vest he still held with one hand and wondered if he could shower without letting go of his piece of Eddie.

(He couldn’t, not if he wanted to keep Eddie’s smell on the fabric, but he could keep it in his sight the whole time.)

-

Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.

Robin did their stupid secret knock on the front door just as Steve decided he didn’t have the energy to go through his hair care routine. He ran a hand through it, sighed, and went downstairs, vest in hand still.

As he got to the bottom of the stairs, Robin started up again, harsher this time.

Knock. Knock. Knock-knock–

He narrowly avoided getting punched in the face as Robin went to finish the knocking pattern. She blinked at him, taking in his appearance, and then promptly squinted at him in suspicion.

“What gives?” She asked, gently pushing on his chest so that he walked backwards and she could enter the Harrington household.

“What?” Steve frowned at her. He hadn’t even said anything to her yet, and she was already asking questions.

“Your face is all-” She gestured at him nonsensically, “-wrong.”

With a sniff, Steve shrugged and attempted to stand a little taller, hoping she hadn’t noticed the bundle of denim hanging from one hand.

“Trauma response, or whatever.” He explained half-heartedly, but Robin just levelled him with a look that said ‘I see through whatever you’re trying to do right now’.

“Even after being tortured by Russians you still did your hair everyday. What, now you’ve been… Now you’ve been attacked by a couple of bats, you can’t do your hair anymore? This was like, way less individually traumatising than last time. And you’re not even concussed this time! So what gives?”

He looked at the floor, shifted his grip on the battle vest in his left hand, and motioned with his head toward the living room.

“Hey, is that Eddie’s–”

“Sit down, Robbie.” Steve cut her off, sitting on the loveseat couch stiffly and gesturing next to him. He didn’t want her to ask like that, wanted to tell her instead.

Evidently, he wasn’t going to get through the day without anyone knowing what was going on. And Robin should have known long ago.

“I’m bisexual.” He blurted out, his thumb finding the sewn on heart again in the fabric.

“Okay.” Robin drew out the word, looking at him as she clearly tried to figure out why he looked so broken up about it, “Did you discover that over this last week or something? You look like you’re not doing so hot. You know that being bi is, like, fine, right? I can find you some zines if you drive me to Indi some time, there’s a bunch of these little stores that sell–”

The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth. He loved Robin’s rambles. But he had to cut her off before she talked herself into a whole new conversation.

“I.. Figured it out about,” He paused, thinking back to when he first had a breakdown over the fact he wanted to kiss Eddie, “Eight months ago.”

It was quiet for a moment, and then Robin made an offended noise.

“You didn’t think you could talk to me about it?” Her voice was quiet, and she leaned into his side a little as his expression stayed somber.

“No, I just.. I don’t know. It was new. We were gonna tell you eventually, but…” He trailed off, and Robin raised her eyebrows.

“We?” She parrotted. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“Me and Eddie.” His voice had practically reached a whisper at that point, and his grip on the denim tightened as he looked down at it. The Motörhead patch was suddenly a lot more interesting to look at than Robin’s face was.

He didn’t even need to look at her to know the expressions she was going through as she processed his words and what they meant.

“You two were…?” She hesitated to ask, and Steve’s throat suddenly felt extremely tight. Like if he tried to get a word out, a scream would escape instead. He nodded.

“Oh Stevie,” Finally, she fully leaned into him and wrapped both arms around him from the side, “I’m so sorry.”

She was whispering, but it didn’t matter. Because his birdie was there, not asking any more questions because she knew it would break him. Because her head was on his shoulder, and she was rubbing circles into him the way she always did when they hugged, and Steve finally found it easy to let himself feel the emotions he’d been pushing back since he saw Dustin crying over his boyfriend’s body and gripping onto his guitar pick necklace. His vision was blurring again, and his throat felt unbelievably tight, but Robin was there to hold him together as he broke apart.

He just wanted his Eddie.

He finally let go of the vest to wrap his arms around his best friend and grip on for dear life. He finally let himself cry.

#steve harrington whump #steddie #(technically) #stobin #platonic stobin #stobin friendship #eddie munson #steve harrington #st #st4 #stranger things #haven't written in a while #sorry if it's shit #mywriting

[gunsandspaceships]

FAQ

I see this post is needed.

What is the purpose of this blog?

Analysis of the MCU and its characters, with a main focus on Tony Stark. Why? Because he is the most misunderstood character in the MCU. Sometimes I write/reblog about Comics versions too. This is not a "pure fun" blog, it's a meta blog about a fictional universe. I use sources, facts, educated guesses, all that scientific stuff.

Are fandoms just for "pure fun"?

No, they are for people. People like different things, not just "fun" ones.

"Fun" varies from person to person. My fun is science.

Are Comics Universes and characters the same as the MCU and its characters?

No, they are not. See this post and this one. Examples from different comics universes: 1610 Tony had a "tumor" in his brain, which was actually an Infinity Stone. 616 Tony never had tumors or Infinity Stones in his brain. 9810 and TRN591 Tonys are Sorcerers Supreme, while 616 or MCU Tonys are not. 1610 Nick Fury is African American. 616 Fury is white. I can go on forever.

Does Comics Canon apply to the MCU?

No (see previous question), unless the traits shown in the MCU are the same as in the Comics. Example, Tony Stark has 3-7 PhDs in 616 Universe, but in the MCU he has 2 (see this post). Another example: Steve Rogers had a smoking habit in the comics, but in the MCU he doesn't smoke.

MCU canon is canon only for the MCU. 616 canon is canon only for 616 Universe. 1610 canon only canon for 1610 Universe. The canon of your favorite fanfic is the canon of that fanfic, etc.

Am I anti-Steve?

No, I am not. Do I criticize him? Yes, when there is something to criticize for. The same applies to any other character: Rhodey, Pepper, Wanda, etc. It is science. Deal with it.

Do I hate anyone?

No, I don't feel hate. Can get angry and annoyed though. In this case - sorry if I bite you.

Do I ship Tony with anyone?

I ship Tony with Happiness. If he is happy with Pepper - great. If he is happy with Steve - I ship it. If he is happy with Stephen - I ship it too, and so on. But if they hurt him - I don't like it. Do you expect me to like it? What would be weird. The ideal option is when everyone is happy, loves and cares about each other.

How to react if I wrote a comment on your post/reblog of my post?

If you're open to discussion, great, that's what comments are for. If you are overly sensitive, can't stand other people's opinions, or deliberately ignore the facts, then it is your right to ignore my comments. And it is my right to write them. Remember that. It is called "communication", and that's what Tumblr and other social networks are for. If you cannot communicate with other people - talk to yourself.

Will I come to your post to write a comment about how wrong you are?

Am I so terrifying? If I see something is wrong, like 2+2 is stated as 5, and not 4, I will probably tell you about it. But I don't do it for headcanons. Headcanon is your HEADcanon. You can have any headcanon you want. It is your right 100%. But if your statement about CANON is incorrect and I can prove it - I can come to you. Remember, it is my right to do so.

Examples:

You have a headcanon that MCU Tony is of Italian descent. I will not correct you because the MCU never mentions what his origin is.

You stated that MCU Tony has a drinking problem. I will come to correct you, because this is not true and I proved it here.

If you said 616 Tony has a drinking problem, I will not correct you because it's true.

You said that in fanfic N a kitten was saved by Clint, but it was actually Natasha. If I read that fanfic, I will come to correct you.

I think it's fair.

Do you have any questions?

Ask anything - my doors are always open. And I don't block people if I don't like what they say.

#tony stark #iron man #marvel #mcu #the avengers #steve rogers

[thestobingirlie]

Yesterday you were talking about let Steve like sports.

I'd take it one further, and say let like Steve like his stuff.

So much fic (Steddie especially) won't let Steve like his clothes or his room. They're always things forced on him by his parents.

Sure, his room is a little bland, but that's more on lazy set design.

But his clothes were in style for the time! Why wouldn't he like them, because he's not shown to have the 'alternative' interests like some other characters, so he's not going to dress super alternative.

And striped/checked/plaid wallpaper as fairly common in the 80s, so not massively out there. And Nancy had striped wallpaper in s1&2, and that never got made fun of.

And the music. There's not much on what music Steve listens too, but there's not much on what anyone listens to. I've seen fics have Max making fun of Steve for listening to Madonna. Max, who has canonically listened to and sung along to Madonna in s3.

Everything is just about shitting on Steve.

yeah <\3

everyone wants to hate on the pretty girl!!!!! stevesad!!!!

literally the music thing actually pisses me off lmao. because canonically steve listens to rock music. he listens to queen. but people write him listening to the top 40 and pop music solely so the other characters can mock him and put him down for it. and it’s like…

you don’t fucking like steve. just leave him alone. make an oc so i don’t have to see your bad fucking hcs and fics.

#steve harrington #stranger things #asks #anon

[jadewritesficshere]

The Hunt

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Reader

Synopsis: Eddie is out on the hunt trying to determine who to feed on. You catch his eye

Contents: depictions of violence, blood, panic, general vampirism (turning, biting, etc.), weapons, alcohol (at a college party), predator/prey (in relation to vampires), gender of reader is not specified but there are descriptions of outfit (combat boots, ripped jeans, and a dark coat)

18+only

Eddie's eyes searched out everyone at the party. He slowly sipped his soda, watching every person. Looking for his next target. He hated who he had become. Hated this thing he had become, not quite alive not quite dead.

Eddie remembers when it happened. Eddie had been invited by Dustin to some celebration. Something about his old babysitter getting a new job. Eddie had scoffed but shown up. It had been fun actually. Eddie, Steve, and Dustin were walking outside for a smoke break- well Steve and Eddie were, Dustin just wouldn't stop talking. They were having a great time.

Until some man had tried attacking Dustin. Eddie watched as Steve tried to pull the guy away, but had gotten thrown into the opposite wall. Steve had groaned as he landed on the ground. Eddie remembers Dustin screaming, the guy kicking his leg with such force it broke. He had never been a hero, always saw himself as a coward.

But Eddie had tried tackling the dude. Slicing him with his pocket knife. The guy's lifeless eyes staring through him as the guy growled at him. He remembers getting pushed into a wall. Seeing a row of teeth. The feeling of pain where his neck and shoulder met. The sight of blood drenching his shirt. Dustin screaming from pain and fear. Steve yelling, coughing from broken ribs. The guy running off as sirens went off and bathed the scene in red and blue.

Eddie remembers the world starting to grow dark. Dustin crying and holding his hand. Hearing Hopper yelling commands. He remembers his head feeling fuzzy. Eddie felt like he was floating in a river, headed to the great beyond he wasn't sure he believed in. Then he remembers the feeling of getting dunked under the water, being enveloped by it. Trying to scream as it filled his lungs and burned him from the inside out.

When Eddie's eyes had snapped open, he was alone. He wasn't sure where he was, but he was lying on a gurney with a sheet covering him. He was distantly aware something was wrong. That something had changed. But it was like hearing a voice call in a crowded room with hundreds of conversations. The only coherent thought he had was feed. Eat.

Eddie came to crouching over a deer, hands greedily stuffing something into his mouth. He remembers the lifeless eyes staring back at him. His stomach turning as he pulled his hands down and saw them covered in blood and viscera. The immediate emptying of his stomach. The crying. Cradling the deer. The panic. The urge to feed still there.

A woman stumbled into Eddie, sloshing her drink on him. Eddie scowled at her. No, she wouldn't do because she had multiple girlfriends helping her walk. He could take one person, not a whole pack.

Like a predator, Eddie waited for the perfect prey. He felt like a creep, but he had to survive. It was simple, grab someone who was inebriated. That way, they wouldn't remember much in the morning. Eddie would take them somewhere alone, somewhere safe for them both. He would feed. Never enough to hurt anyone, but enough to satiate the bloodlust for a few more weeks.

Eddie hated how Steve had offered to be his own personal blood bag. Eddie never wanted his friends to see him feed. It felt weirdly intimate.

It didn't help that whoever was fed on would feel a rush of euphoria and become blissed out on endorphins. They would struggle at first but then succumb to the pleasure, making it easy to drink every last drop.

Steve didn't know that. He didn't need to know that. And he never would. Eddie just needed to find someone who would work for tonight. That's why he went to the big city. Rumors would swirl around Hawkins, but someone getting freaky and having an apparent biting kink in the big city? Well, that could be anyone. Plus, college town, plenty of parties and wild stories galore.

There was a guy in the corner who was drunk, but the dude had muscles bigger than Eddie's head. He would absolutely put up a fight. Sure, Eddie was stronger than a normal human, but it had been awhile since he last fed. He knew he was weak and not on his A game. The guy would eventually relinquish control, but it would take enough time for Eddie to get punched and have to rebite him.

There was a girl who was crying. She had been here earlier with the dude currently making out with someone else. Eddie winced slightly, feeling bad for the girl. He wasn't going to make her night any worse.

Eddie's nose twitched as the smell of blood hit his nose. Some people had a stronger...allure to them. Their blood called to his tainted soul. This was one of those moments. It was like a siren song pulling him in.

Eddie looked around the room sneakily, holding the cup to his lips but not drinking. He tried to pierce the location of the person, but it was hard in the crowded room. He could smell whoever it was getting distant, so he trailed in the general direction. Eyes searching but not finding.

Until the people shifted and parted, leaving only you standing there. You were laughing and twirling without a care. You stumbled a few times over your combat boots, but always caught yourself. A dopey grin was across your face. You had a dark coat on reminiscent of a trench coat. Big buttons held the coat closed, no zippers in sight. Ripped jeans tucked into your boots. Eddie's lip twitched into a smile. Must be fate for you to have a similar style to him.

Eddie watched as you went to take a sip of your drink and frown, tilting the cup completely upside down over your mouth. Empty. Your neck was exaggerated, tilted back to get every drop of your drink. It was the ultimate tease, beckoning for Eddie to bite. Your tendon flexed like a signal saying "here, bite here!"

Eddie slowly strode over to where you glared at the empty cup. You glance up at the man who suddenly stood next to you. A lazy smile spreads across your face. Eddie mimics the smile. That's who he is now. Someone mimicking humans. Pretending to be alive and not this thing.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, shifting to glance around. To you, it would appear as though he was concerned for you. The reality was that he was glancing to see if anyone was paying attention. The others in the room were just as sloshed as you, not a single care in the world.

You giggle and try and pat Eddie's arm," Totally grand man! Just a lil..." you trail off and shrug. Eddie's eyes dart back to yours. You sway where you're standing, his arm darting out to hover at your side in case you fall. "I'm gonna get another." You smile at the man and attempt a step forward.

You were totally out of it. Eddie felt a trickle of unease in the back of his mind as you fell into him. But your tantalizing scent shut off his rationality. The urge to feed would always shut down the guilt. You stumble away from him and give him finger guns, chuckling to yourself.

Eddie trails after you, "You should probably get some air." You pause and look over your shoulder at him," Huh?" You blink lazily at him as he gently motions to the door.

"Outside. You need some air," Eddie's voice is dripping with faux concern. Your eyes stare into his, sending a shiver down his spine. There was something off about making eye contact with you. "Okay!" You hold out your hand for him to take.

Eddie feels bad, it's almost like you are making a deal with the devil. He takes your hand in his, noting how soft your hands are compared to his own. You are rambling something about movies, Eddie halfheartedly humming his agreement.

You mumble the theme to the Jaws movie as you follow Eddie outside. Eddie shakes his head at how spot on the tune is. He can't wait to get his jaws on you, to bite you, to utterly consume you.

Eddie leads you to the alley between the buildings. He pushes you against the wall, your knees buckling slightly. At this angle, he is peering down at you. You smile sweetly at him. Eddie trails a finger down the side of your face,"So sweet."

Eddie leans in, lips barely brushing yours. He can feel the warmth of your shaky exhale. "Sorry," he murmurs before capturing your lips with his. He deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping into your mouth. He can feel your body relax as you sigh, one of your hands rubbing the back of his neck.

Eddie breaks away from your lips, trailing kisses to your jaw. His lips barely touch your neck. His hand grabs your coat, fingers slipping between the buttons. His fangs sharpen, barely touching your skin, when he feels something cool and metallic brush against his finger.

The sound of a gun cocking causes him to pause before the cool barrel of a gun is pressed to the underside of his jaw. Eddie pulls back in surprise, but your hand on his neck doesn't let him get far. You smirk up at him.

Oh, Eddie had it all wrong. Eddie wasn't the predator out for prey; no, he was the one being hunted.

You dig the gun into his jaw, causing him to wince. "Pity you're one of them. Too bad I have to kill you...again," Your gaze stares into Eddie's. That's what was off, your eyes were too clear to be drunk. And Eddie had thought he was growing more of a conscience.

Eddie clears his throat," I'd hate to die...again." You snort a half laugh out before catching yourself," Yeah, no. Can't let your kind go around. Kind of my job."

Eddie cursed. A hunter, defender of humans. Luring vampires and other monsters to their death like a siren luring poor sailors. Eddie felt kind of stupid for falling for it- but, this was your job, you had to be good to do this full-time.

"You wouldn't. You're too...sweet." Eddie falters at the glare you give. The barrel leaves his chin for a second to fire in the air. The noise hurts his ears and he flinches. The metal is now warmed from firing and stings his skin when you place it back under his chin.

"Sweet huh. You like my smell? Not really me, it's the pennies. Sewed them in myself. It's like catnip to you guys," You grin. Ah, the metal he was feeling against his fingers were pennies. Eddie wasn't sure how it worked, but the metal must enhance the scent of your blood. Or the metallic scent mimicked blood. Or-

Eddie growls as you cock the gun again. He is used to thinking fast, but even he knows there are some situations you can't get out of. Eddie closes his eyes, accepting his fate.

Except fate must have other plans. Because Eddie can see the flashes of red and blue even with his eyes closed. He can hear the loud whoop of a siren. Just like the night he turned.

Eddie's eyes snap open to see you falter and look towards the alley entrance. You drop the gun slightly, but it's all Eddie needs. He slams his knee up into your gut and slams your arm against the wall. His stomach turns at your yelp of pain.

The cops are yelling something, but Eddie is focused on your eyes. Memorizing them. They're beautiful. He nods once and darts off, unnaturally fast. He can hear the cops yell in surprise and you yell in anger.

Eddie feels partly bad you have to deal with them. You did try to kill him though. Or did you? Eddie had thought about it and you had plenty of chances to pull the trigger. You didn't even have to talk to him, but you did.

Hours pass and Eddie has fed off some other human. But it wasn't the one he wanted, no. And as he sits in the tree outside your house, he knows he will have you. Soon.

#Gently sets this fic in front of you and then rushes off like a cat who has zoomies and bumps and fumbles into things #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Vampire!Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson/reader #Eddie Munson/you #Vampire!Eddie Munson/reader #Stranger Things #Jade is Talking

[strangerqueerthings]

Meeting the new "King."

He didn’t like parties. Not the kind that came to mind when someone mentioned “high school parties,” anyway.

His idea of a good party was a small group of friends deep in the woods or overlooking the quarry at night, shooting the shit around a bonfire, music playing from the speakers of an open car door or a portable boombox, with a cooler full of beers and Mountain Dew, a few pizzas, bags of chips, and a few well rolled joints.

Good, close, safe company. Like-minded friends, with shared interests and compatibility based on trust.

A party with music so loud that it’s impossible to hear, mixed with the equally loud shouts of people fighting to be heard over it, in rooms packed with dancing bodies, couples doing everything but fucking in corners, and meat heads over-estimating their alcohol tolerance and yakking all over the floor- or in the bushes outside if they make it that far- was not his idea of a good time.

Eddie Munson was rarely, if ever invited to these kinds of parties- and even if he was, it’s not because anyone wants him there.

When Tina approached him between classes- after everyone had vacated the hallway, because she couldn’t be seen actually socializing with him- and handed him the flier, it wasn’t because she wanted him there. She wanted him to bring his product.

“Think you have enough for most of the senior and junior class?” she asked, only half-way joking.

He studied her for a moment, considering his options. He hated parties, he really did. He could say no, that Rick was in jail and as his main supplier, he simply didn’t have that kind of stock. He didn’t want to go, but the prospect of that many sales was too much to pass up.

He was so close to getting the last hundred bucks for that gorgeous guitar he’d seen in Chicago, and sales of that level would not only get him that last hundred, but enough for the gas to Chicago and back- and even some leftover for new picks, maybe, if he was lucky, even enough for a new amp.

The shopkeep told him he could only hold the guitar for him for so long, and Eddie was pushing that deadline to the very edge.

The truth was, he did have the stock- Rick had shown him where he grew the stuff, told him how to care for it. The cops hadn’t found it, and now the crop was his. At least until Rick got back.

So he’d told Tina he’d be there, but because it was late notice, his prices would be higher. Tina had reassured him she’d let interested parties know, and told him what time to be there, and where to “set up shop.”

So here he was, in the back yard, just on the edge of the light and dark from the back porch’s flood lamp, exchanging bud for bucks, grateful he was outside where it was nice and cool, and not nearly as loud and overwhelming.

He was vibrating with nerves and excitement. Nerves, because he’d seen Jason Carver, Tommy Hagan, and Steve Harrington- and he never could trust if they’d rat him out or not. Excitement, because he had sold over half the product he’d brought, and his pockets were full of cash.

He’d made close to two hundred bucks tonight, and he wasn’t sold out yet. That guitar was as good as his- he just had to finish selling and get the fuck out of dodge.

“Hey Freak.”

Eddie’s heart sank. He knew that voice. Hagan. Bully. Hot-head, obsessed with his girlfriend, and butt-buddy to Harrington, who was right beside him, approaching with Hagan. Great. Harrington. Goody two-shoes who lived in Loch Nora in a fucking brownstone with a heated pool, drove a BMW and wore designer clothes with his perfect hair.

Eddie had heard what Harrington did to Jonathan, and he wasn’t keen on letting him know what mattered to him, or what his hobbies were, lest the jock decide to do something similar to him.

“Tina invited me to sell, so don’t start shit, Hagan,” Eddie warned. “I’m staying out of sight, so I’m not tainting your precious party.”

Hagan gave him a shove to the chest, lifting his brows when Eddie kept his feet planted and didn’t budge. When Eddie knew he had every right to stand his ground, he did, and wouldn’t move- and he knew he had every right to be there in the capacity he had been invited for.

“Still peddling for Rick?” Hagan sneered. “Is it that garbage he sells for stupid high prices?”

“If you’re trying to get a sample, it isn’t gonna work, Hagan,” Eddie shot back. “You can pay like everyone else- it’s fifteen bucks per quarter ounce, cash only, no receipts, or fuck off.”

Harrington rolled his eyes as Hagan stepped closer.

“Tommy, it isn’t worth it, just leave him alone.”

Ignoring him, Hagan stepped closer, almost chest to chest with Eddie- who refused to back down.

“How about you give me enough for a joint, and I don’t call the cops on you, you little shit.”

“Yeah, call the cops on an entire house of folks drinking underage, ruin the party, make Tina mad at you, and end up in the doghouse with Carol. Don’t be fuckin’ stupid, man,” Harrington said, shaking his head. “If you want some that bad, pay the dude.”

“Level headed intelligence from you, Harrington?” Eddie asked, unable to stop himself- even if his tone was tinged with gratitude.

“Don’t push it, Munson,” Harrington shot back.

“Make way for the KING!” roared a very drunk voice, and Harrington immediately walked away as a shirtless guy in a kilt- whose name escaped Eddie- approached.

Hagan grinned wolfishly.

“Have fun dealing with the new King of Hawkins High, Freak. He probably won’t be as gentle and understanding as I am- not someone who does nearly a full minute keg stand.”

He followed Harrington back into the house, and Eddie turned his attention to the guy approaching him- the guy in the kilt had sat down hard on the stairs, too drunk to keep going.

Eddie felt his mouth go dry.

The new “King of Hawkins High” was probably the prettiest boy he’d ever seen in his life.

Golden skin and flaxen hair, sharp blue eyes and a chest and abs left bare under a black leather jacket, with his jeans practically painted onto his sculpted thighs, he looked like a gilded Rob Lowe, or a fairer, tanned Richard Marx.

A modern day Adonis, and Eddie felt his knees tremble a little before he remembered to lock them.

“So you’re the guy who has the good shit. Eddie Munson, right?” the gorgeous boy drawled, white teeth flashing brilliantly in his golden face, his grin wide, dangerous and gorgeous in equal measure with a Marlboro dangling carelessly from the corner of his mouth.

Eddie swallowed, hoping his throat didn’t give him away as he nodded.

“Yeah. Grow it, dry it, cure it, and sell it myself.”

“Folks say your supplier is some guy called Reefer Rick,” the boy said.

“He was. He’s in jail. I’m tending his shit until he’s out,” Eddie replied.

The boy nodded, his face serious.

“I get it. Gotta fill the void, make a buck, skip the middle man. Good business, if a bit risky.”

“You buying, or looking to invest?” Eddie joked, and his heart skipped a beat when the other boy laughed. It was like the pealing of a bell during a rolling clap of thunder.

“Invest? No, no, too much time involved. I don’t plan on staying in this shithole after I graduate- I’m just wanting to buy and enjoy a buzz to distract me from the misery that is being in a podunk like this pit.”

His blue eyes glittered, staring directly into Eddie’s like a wary, hungry wolf’s, and he felt pinned under that predatory gaze.

“So. What’s your rate?” he asked casually, flicking the butt of his cigarette with his tongue to move it from one side of his mouth to the other.

“Fifteen per quarter ounce,” Eddie replied, and the other boy pursed his lips, the cigarette flicking upwards as he reached into the impossibly tight back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. He rummaged through it, frowning.

“All I’ve got is a twenty. Got change… or willing to do a special for a new customer?”

Eddie wanted to tell him he could have half an ounce for free if he’d tell him his name, but he swallowed his stupid star-struck feelings that would have him driven out of the state.

He put on a show of considering, frowning, putting a hand to his chin and rubbing at his lower lip with his index finger for a few moments before dropping it with a shrug.

“You’re new…. And I believe in good first impressions… so I can be generous,” he finally said, shrugging his bookbag off and opening it. He rummaged through his stock and pulled out a pre-packed and weighed bag containing half an ounce of weed.

“Twenty for half an ounce- but if anyone asks, you paid thirty for it. Can’t have anyone coming back for refunds,” he said, holding it out.

“Thanks,” the boy said, taking the bag and placing the twenty in his palm.

“Good doing business,” Eddie said, shoving the twenty into his pocket. “Just uh… go easy with that batch- that particular bag is pretty heavy. Don’t smoke any unless you don’t plan on going anywhere for a while.”

The boy grinned again.

“Just what I need- especially since there’s nowhere to go in this shithole.”

He put the back in the pocket of his leather jacket, and before Eddie could lower his hand, he grabbed it, shaking it. His grip was warm, firm, the tendons of his hands feeling like whipcord under the calloused skin.

“Name’s Billy Hargrove,” he drawled. “And I will likely see you again.”

Eddie sure as hell hoped he would.

He was no longer regretting coming to this party.

#mungrove #billy hargrove #eddie munson #sqt drabble #this is actually my audition to play Eddie in an RP server #but I'm hella proud of it so I'm posting it here

[kennahjune]

Idea Idea Idea Idea—

I really wanna write a fic where it’s all the jocks of Hawkins High and their fucked up personal lives.

Maybe this is an excuse to write Tommy Steve and Carol being friends, maybe it’s an excuse to write Steve stepping in and telling Jason off for being a shitty bf to Chrissy, maybe it’s an excuse to write about a really sweet Steve and Chrissy friendship. You’ll never know.

(It’s actually all of the above + being able to add my own favorite hc ever!!)

I have a really really favorite headcannon where the whole “King Steve” thing started as a joke when Tommy got really drunk but it kind of stuck around at school. After a while Steve starts to actually hate it and Tommy, feeling bad cause he started it, tries to take the pressure off a bit by calling Steve “Princey”. But that sticks throughout the friend group and Steve loves it sm more than King Steve.

But basically I want to go into unusual depth with the jocks. Give them oddly fucked up backstories just for my (and your) amusement and entertainment cause that’s what writers do right??

Like Tommy’s birth dad being in jail for drug abuse and his step-dad being a lazy drag like Ted Wheeler but so vocally abusive it’s a fucking wonder the neighbors haven’t called the cops.

Or like Carol’s mom dying in a car crash when she’s 7 and her getting a new step-mom but her step-mom being a literal witch and turning Carol’s life into an upside-down Cinderella story.

Or looking more into Chrissy’s bulimia and her relationship with her mom and maybe doing something with her dad not being in the picture whatsoever.

And ofc the infamous “big house no parents” Steve Harrington but with more drama and angst.

Then throw them all into a friend group together and viola!

I think it’d be really neat and I love writing wholesome jocks idk why.

And also I love the idea of them all just getting each other in ways others can’t.

I want to write about how the Party doesn’t get something with Steve’s parents and don’t understand and don’t really try to understand cause he has to be exaggerating right? And Steve runs into Tommy and Carol later on during this mess and they all sympathize because yeah they get not being able to tell your parents no and having to be shown around like a decoration rather than an actual human being.

I love the idea of them getting each other in ways no one else does and it opens up for sm Steddie angst at the same time because of the Munson Doctrine and how that probably would reflect on Steve and his high school career and how wrong Eddie it about all of them.

It’s something I really wanna play around with.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #tommy hagan #carol perkins #chrissy cunningham #jason carver #i need more of tommy steve and carol plz and thank you #the jocks of hawkins high >> #jock angst :P #I need this religiously pretty please