#like no eddie and i have beef (he is me i am him)

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 3

Thank you for the lovely response to this story, it makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

This chapter is just 2000 words of Wayne and Eddie being sweethearts to Steve.

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie led the way through his trailer to the kitchen past Wayne, who was sitting in his armchair reading the newspaper, a defeated Harrington limping behind.

“What did I tell you about bringing home strays, Ed?” Wayne huffed, a small, gentle smile on his face.

Eddie shook his head, his curls flying. “I’m just watering and feeding this one before I return it back to its owners.”

Harrington blushed and ducked his head. “I got lost.”

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. He looked over at Eddie who nodded his confirmation.

“This is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie introduced them. “This is Steve Harrington, Uncle.”

Wayne’s eyebrows stayed raised. Of all the people Eddie could have brought home, he was pretty sure this was the biggest surprise.

“You got your car?” he asked.

“This dumbass was out running around with his head in the fucking clouds,” Eddie scoffed.

Wayne’s glance at Harrington was far more appraising. He looked him up and down, taking in the sweat on his brow, the limping, the slumped shoulders, and vacant expression.

“You do that often, son?” he asked Harrington, folding up his newspaper.

Harrington just shrugged. “I like running to get out of my head.”

Wayne licked his upper lip slowly, calculating. “Uh-huh.” He looked over at his nephew, who had his hands on his lower back and staring at the floor. “There is some leftover beef from Sunday.”

Eddie jumped excitedly. “Yes! That would be perfect.”

He loped over to fridge and pulled out a Tupperware container. He set it on the counter. He got out two plates and a glass. He filled the glass with water and handed it to Harrington.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he huffed. “Our water comes from the same place as yours does.”

Harrington rolled his eyes. “I’m not worried about you poisoning me.”

“You’d be the first,” Wayne said with a chuckle.

Harrington furrowed his brows and looked between them in confusion.

“Surely,” Wayne said in amusement, “you’ve heard about Ed’s reputation going to that school of yours.”

Harrington shook his head. He looked down at his feet. “I mean, I hear rumors and shit, but I really don’t believe that he chased three freshmen with a hunting knife.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “You would pick the one rumor that was actually true.”

Harrington’s head snapped up. “What? Why would you do that?”

Behind him the microwave beeped and Eddie hurried to get their food out. He piled on the food and handed it to him.

“Because they were trying to buy drugs off me,” Eddie muttered as he handed Harrington a fork.

Harrington blinked at him a moment and then nodded. “Is there an age that you do start selling to high school students?” His eyes went wide and looked at Wayne in panic. “I mean, if you were selling drugs. Not that you do or anything.”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “I am more than perfectly aware of my nephew’s side business, thank you. I wish he didn’t have to do it, but he hasn’t had a lot of choices in the legal employment racket, not for someone like Ed. But sometimes a couple of grams sold is the difference between not having to chose to pay the water bill or the power bill.”

“Uncle Wayne and I set down ground rules when I started dealing,” Eddie huffed. “One of them was not selling to anyone under the age of sixteen.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

Harrington ate his food in silence.

“Do you need to call your parents?” Wayne asked. “Won’t they be worried where you are?”

Harrington shook his head. “They’re going to scream the same amount if I was five hours late or on time. I’d rather just deal with it the once thanks.”

Eddie and Wayne shared a worried glance over his head. Eddie was far too familiar with that nugget of parental discipline, because that’s exactly what Al would do with him.

“You ready to go, Stevie?” Eddie asked as he set their now empty plates in the sink.

“Don’t worry about cleaning up, Ed,” Wayne said. “I’ll take care of it while you take him home.”

Harrington blinked up at Eddie after he used his given name. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Thanks for dinner and the water.”

Wayne nodded. Eddie led the way back out to the van.

“All righty,” he said, pulling his door closed. “You’re gonna have to give me directions, pretty boy.”

Harri–Steve blinked at him for a moment. “I thought everyone had been to my house at one point or another.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, dude?”

Steve just curled his hands on his lap and then mumbled directions.

Eddie cursed himself in his head. He had gotten the other boy to come out of his shell a little bit while they were talking to Wayne, but now the lid had slammed shut.

Because Steve was right. Even though he only invited the popular kids, his parties always exploded way past the original guest list. But Eddie had avoided it when it was Steve’s place though. Dealing at Hagan’s or any of Steve’s former pals was easy enough, his van fit right in with all the vehicles no problem. But in Loch Nora? Yeah... that was like showing up to a funeral in torn up jeans and smelling strongly like booze.

“Let’s just say my van is a little more conspicuous in Loch Nora,” he said after they had driven in silence for a couple of miles.

Steve’s head snapped up. “Oh. Shit. Yeah. My neighbors might not call the cops on any of my parties but they would absolutely be on the horn if they saw your van parked anywhere on the street.” He picked at his nails. “I keep forgetting shit like that.”

Eddie risked a glance at the other boy, whose shoulders were rounded against being bullied.

“Dude,” he huffed, “the whole fucking school saw what you looked like when you came back after tangling with Billy that kind of damage leaves lasting affects. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve scoffed. “Asshole fucking cheated. Took a plate to my head and then just started wailing on me. Probably would have killed me too.”

“So what stopped him?”

“Being tranq’ed by his step-sister,” he snorted. “She was visiting a friend of hers. One Billy didn’t approve of because of the color of his skin. Billy threatened to kill the kid, so I hit him. Would have won, too, if he hadn’t fucked me up with the plate.” He took a deep breath. “Anyways, they had some tranquilizers because one of their parents were having trouble sleeping. She grabbed one and jabbed it into his neck.”

“Pretty brave thing to do,” Eddie conceded. “Sounds like there were two badasses there that night.” Then he shook his head. “So you got the shit beat out of you for defending little sheep and Wheeler still went for Byers? I don’t know, man, sounds like she wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit her in the ass.”

Steve huffed out a breath of laughter before he caught himself. He hid his smile under his fist. “Something like that, yeah.”

They pulled up to his house and Steve let out this strange little pained noise. Like it was relief and disappointment all rolled into one. A sound Eddie was far too familiar with.

“My parents aren’t home.”

Eddie looked over at him in curiosity. “How can you tell?” Because yeah, the front lights were off and the house seemed quiet, Eddie knew these houses were big enough that if there was a light on in the back of the house, it couldn’t be seen from the road.

“The garage is closed,” Steve huffed. “They only close it when they leave. They have to show off to the whole neighborhood the cars they drive.”

Eddie blinked at Steve in confusion. “Aren’t they worried someone will steal their car?”

Steve shook his head. “It’s insured, plus they don’t believe anyone would rob them in their fancy house while they’re home.”

Eddie looked up at the large house, so big it could only really be called a mansion. “Are they stupid or arrogant?”

“Both.”

“Look, Steve,” Eddie said, stopping him briefly. “I need to apologize and every time I see you you distract me. So I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m the one that shoulder checked you the day you hurt your hand.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed dramatically.

“You see, you had this far off look my uncle gets sometimes and the best thing to do is make a noise or bump into him. Just something that reminds him that his not where ever his mind is and that’s in the present. But I heard these assholes saying that they got their kicks out of kicking your stuff and stomping on your hand and I realized that it was my fault that happened and I’m really, really sorry.”

Steve stared at him for a moment. “Oh. Hey, it’s not your fault, you were only doing what you thought would help. I wasn’t spacing out or whatever. I was just feeling sorry for myself over a stupid holiday. But apology accepted, I guess.”

Eddie nodded, feeling a little bit better about it.

Steve hopped out of the van and he turned back to Eddie. “Thanks for the ride, Eds.”

He slammed the door behind him and walked up to his big, dark, lonely, still house and Eddie felt a small pang of something like pity for the guy. And wasn’t that a kick in the teeth.

When he got home, Wayne was waiting up for him.

“Did that boy get into any trouble when he got home?” were the first words out of his uncle’s mouth. Not so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘by your leave’.

Eddie shook his head. “They weren’t home. I don’t know if they went out to dinner without him or if they just went on one of their infamous business trips.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side. “What’s so infamous about them?”

“They leave so often,” Eddie murmured, “that Steve is pretty famous for the ‘rich kid, empty house’ trope you see movies these days.”

“He’s got friends he can stay with, doesn’t he?” Wayne pressed.

Again Eddie shook his head. “He blew up his friends group awhile back, called them all assholes and bullies over some chick. Then the chick broke up with him over the eldest Byers boy.”

Wayne patted the spot next to him on the sofa. “Tell me about this Harrington kid. You used to all the time, ranting and raving about something or another that he did and then you just stopped.”

Eddie flopped down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. “Like there wasn’t anything to tell after that, you know. He just faded into the background. Gave up his title of King of Hawkins High and then Friday happened.”

“And you found out he was being bullied,” Wayne finished. “I see. That’s got to be rough to go from being surrounded by people to not having anyone there for him.”

Eddie threw his head back onto the back of the sofa and let out a loud groan. “Like it’s my thing. Picking up the lost and the lonely. But this one comes with a lot more baggage than the others and I’m not afraid for me or the rest of my friends but...” He buried his fingers into his hair and screamed.

Wayne nodded. Eddie befriending Steve could make things worse for him and not better. But inaction might hurt the boy in the long run.

“Maybe do something for him that he doesn’t know it’s you,” he suggested to his nephew. “That way he knows he’s not alone, but your reputation won’t make things worse for him.”

Eddie frowned for a moment and then his eyes went wide. “Oh! I think I know exactly what to do!”

Wayne smiled at him. “I figured you would.”

****

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rom com au

[babybluebex]

looking | joseph quinn x reader

summary: joe catches you looking and rewards (punishes?) you for your efforts pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: smut (MINORS DNI), squirting, oral (m! and f!receiving), mostly dom!joe but surprise sub!joe at the end, praise kink, no condom, creampie, cockwarming author's note: yes i have a lecture this morning. yes i am writing this at work. no i will not apologize. enjoy <3 // follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post a new story! (also big ole thanks to @freckledjoes for making this gif for me!! thanks a bunch!)

You heard his feet on the landing of the stairs, and then gentle padding as his bare feet sounded on the carpeted hallway as he made his way to the bedroom. These nights were your favorite— Joseph had made you dinner, cheesy pasta with garlic bread, then you had watched an episode of Succession before getting ready for bed. You could tell that Joe was in a sort of mood that night, the kind of mood where he lit a candle at dinner and kissed you and put on Al Green on his record player. He had asked if you wanted to join him in the shower, but you had declined; you had work in the morning, and a randy shower didn't exactly entail an early sleep.

But then, he rounded the corner and darkened the doorway, and you gulped. He looked good; wet curls on his forehead, singlet covering his beefy build, and those underwear, clinging to every curve just right. And he didn't even seem like he knew what he was doing. Joe rubbed his hair dry on his towel as he came into the bedroom, and he went to his dresser, rooting through the top drawer for some pajama bottoms. The silence was deafening, and damning, because Joe turned to you with an amused look on his face.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked. "Cat got your tongue?" He added a dramatic pout to his plush lips, and, fuck, you just had to kiss him.

"You just look really good," you said softly. "Can't I just look at you?"

"Oh, you want to look?" Joe asked teasingly. Oh. So he was in that sort of mood. "I thought it was rude to stare."

"I'm not staring," you told him. "I'm... Appreciating. Admiring."

"Admiring, eh?" Joe laughed. "What exactly are you admiring?"

"Well..." you started, holding out your hand and tracing the shape of his body in the air. He was certified grade A beef that day, finally having regained the weight he had lost to play Eddie, and you loved his plush hips and thick thighs. "And..." You made a cupping motion with your hand, and Joe let out a sputtered laugh.

"So you're staring at my dick," Joe said, shaking his head mirthfully. "I knew I was nothing but a piece of meat to you."

"No!" you exclaimed. Even though you knew he was joking, you didn't want him to think you were doing that for even a second. "I'm just... You just... Y'know? Just admiring every part of you."

"You're drooling," Joe cajoled. He hung his towel on the back of the door and made his way to the bed, and you watched as he grew closer, finally until he was lingering right next to you, his cloth-covered dick inches from your face. God, he smelled so good, you just wanted to take him then and there.

You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his bulge, looking up at him through your eyelashes to see his reaction, and you were overjoyed to see him slowly close his eyes and take a deep breath. "You gonna suck it or what?" he asked in a low voice, and the hot pressure of need slammed inside you belly. You loved when he got like this.

You readjusted yourself in bed, sitting on your knees to reach him properly, and you tugged him forward by his hips to get him closer. Carefully, you pulled down those black briefs, and his half-hard cock spilled forward. He was thick and heavy, beautiful, and you chuckled lightly at the sight before you. "You trimmed," you giggled, and Joe peeked his eyes open.

"Is that a crime?" he asked, and you slid your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your nails up.

"No," you said. "I just like your bush."

Joe shrugged. "I'll grow it back out," he said. His hand smoothed your hair back, gathering it all up in a loose grip before he flattened his palm against the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You put an end to your games then, taking the head of his uncut cock into your mouth, lightly sucking, just enough to give him a little bit of pressure. Joe made a quiet noise, a sort of hum of appreciation, and you took him further into your mouth. He tasted good, musky but clean, and you moaned around him as your tongue lavished the thick vein that ran along the bottom of his cock.

"That's it," Joe whispered. "What a good girl... You love sucking my cock, don't you?"

You fluttered your eyelashes at him as an answer and took him deeper, then pulled back and suckled at his head for a moment, just to get a reaction out of him. His hand gripped your hair as he moaned, and he gritted his teeth. "Fuck," he whispered. "I knew you liked what you saw."

You pulled off of him with a gasping breath, letting your hand stroke him from balls to tip. "Did you do it on purpose?" you asked.

"Do what?"

"Dress like this," you asked. "Look so goddamn delicious. You know I can hardly resist you."

"That was the plan," Joe admitted. His stomach flexed when you reached up to cup his balls, and you leaned back in, sucking him down again. You didn't usually like giving blowjobs— you hardly ever went down on past boyfriends— but there was something special about Joe that made you want to swallow down his cock every single day, no matter what. "God, you look so hot like this, darling. Love watching you like this."

You moaned softly, then broke away from him, panting to try to regain the breath that sucking him off has made you lose. Joe didn't hesitate to lean down and kiss you, holding your face as his tongue swirled in your mouth, tasting himself off of you. You scrambled backwards to lay on your back, and you tugged Joe in by his shirt, urging him to lay on top of you. He did exactly as you expected, following you and nudging your legs open as he messily kissed you, and he broke the kiss to look down at you. Panties and a t-shirt (his t-shirt), nothing else.

"Fuck," Joe whispered, and he chuckled. His eyes were stuck on your covered pussy, and he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue when he spotted the damp patch on your panties. "Is this all for me?"

"Yeah," you told him. "F'course it is."

"Jesus, I'm a spoiled man," Joe whispered, kissing you deeply again. His hands scrambled to tug down your panties and expose you to him, and his greedy eyes watched as you opened your legs for him, showing him your wet pussy. Your blood was thrumming in every vein with desire, you needed him so badly, and he flicked his eyes up to yours, those lips of his falling open gently. He kissed you once more, then leaned down to kiss your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before trailing his kisses downwards. Ever downwards he ventured, until his warm breath was fanning across your cunt, and he did not waste any time before he licked at you.

The stubble on his chin and cheeks roughed up your thighs as he ate you out like he had never learned how to do anything else. He sucked at your quivering clit and made you cry out in pleasure, his tongue danced on your hole, he even added his fingers to help open you up. By the time the knot in your belly was straining, he was sucking lewdly and shaking his head, making sure that you felt every inch of his fingers and tongue on you. It was so good, it felt so fucking amazing, and you let the knot snap and come undone. You grabbed hard at Joe's hair and almost cried as you came on his fingers; it just felt so fucking good.

"Jesus!" Joe laughed, and you panted as you looked down at him. Something wet was in his beard, and you laughed when you realized that it wasn't just your regular juices. "Good fucking girl, do that again, baby."

"I-I didn't even know I could do that," you laughed breathlessly, letting your head fall back. Joe wasted no time in pushing his fingers back into you, thrusting hard into you and making your toes curl with the sensitivity, and you yelped when the sudden knot burst again, and you were able to watch this time as you squirted quickly on Joe's face. He seemed to love it, smiling up at you and panting, and he pulled out his soaked fingers. He looked at them in awe, wet and glistening, before he touched them to his lips, licking them clean.

You leaned up and stripped off your shirt, and you reached out for him, pulling his hips between your legs again as you shoved his singlet over his head. You discarded it across the room before you kissed him again, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he didn't wait a single second before he grasped his cock and pushed inside you. You were so fucking sensitive from cumming so hard, and you grabbed hard at his shoulders as he instantly started up a pace. He was quick, thrusting messily into you and holding down your hips to keep you where he wanted you, and you hid yourself in his neck. Jesus, he was insatiable tonight; he had made you fucking squirt, and now he was fucking you so hard that you were worried you two might break the bed.

"Baby," you whispered in his ear. "Easy, honey, we have all night."

"I almost came when you squirted," Joe told you. "Fuck me, I'm so close already. Let me cum, and then we can go slower and nicer, but, right now, I need to— Fuck!"

His cock throbbed inside you as he fucked you, and you knew that he was right. He was dangerously close to his release, and you to yours, and you could have sworn that you heard him whimper when you clenched down on him, tightening around his cock.

"Please, baby," Joe whispered. "Let me cum inside you, please, fuck, I need it."

"Fuck, yeah," you breathed. "Cum inside me, please."

Joe's nails dug into the flesh of your hip, and you gasped as Joe moaned deeply, and he filled you. You could feel it inside you, so much thick cum— your poor boy really needed to cum. He moaned in your ear and panted heavily as he tried to catch his breath, and you pulled yourself from his neck to smile hazily up at him. "Was it good?" Joe asked, and you chuckled, brushing back his curls.

"Yes, my love," you told him. "So good. I didn't know I could squirt, that was interesting."

"A surprise, for sure," Joe laughed. "But it was hot. Can you do it again?"

"I don't know how I did it the first time," you chuckled. "I don't know if I can do it again."

Joe huffed out a laugh, and he leaned up on his elbows, rocking his hips into you again. Your nerves were so scorched and sensitive that you instantly let out a yelp, and Joe said, "Well, let's see."

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn smut

[seecarrun]

He admits to being in love with Eddie during an interview with Out Magazine.

He doesn’t say so by name, exactly, but it’s obvious, and if Eddie reads the interview he doesn’t bring it up, which Richie is super grateful for, as the rest of his shitty friends have no problem talking to him about it and frankly, it gets old.

But Eddie plays it cool.

Until he doesn’t.

They’re on the phone, Richie has him on speaker while he’s browning ground beef for tacos and telling him about the big wig party he went to at Bill’s over the weekend.

“Yeah, this director said I might be perfect for this part in some slasher movie he has coming up. I might do it? I can’t act for shit, but I think I’ll get killed pretty early on in the film so—”

“So are you hanging out with Bill a lot?” Eddie interrupts, and Richie blinks down at the phone quickly in surprise.

“Uh yeah? I guess? When he’s actually in town. You know how hard it is to keep that asshole in one place.”

Eddie hums. “And it’s not…awkward?”

“Why the fuck would it be awkward?”

“The interview,” he says, slow, syllable by syllable, like Richie is an idiot.

He rolls his eyes. Guess they’re finally talking about it. Goodie. “Why would I care what Bill thought of my interview?” he asks.

Eddie is quiet for a moment too long before scoffing out an annoyed “Because you’re in love with him?”

Richie tries not to laugh, he really does, but he definitely snorts, like, loudly. “Bill?”

“Yes.”

Richie bites back another snort. “Biiill?”

“Yes Bill!” Eddie snaps back stubbornly. “You said you’re in love with your best friend who is short and handsome and brave and a little dumb. That is literally Bill.”

“Dude,” Richie laughs, “I also said anxious and angry and the only person I know who might be funnier than I am, which is very much not Bill. Or did you just ignore that part?”

Eddie is quiet again before finally clearing his throat. “I didn’t read that far,” he admits.

“It was literally in the same paragraph, you dingus.”

“Hey, fuck you! I thought the guy I love was in love with someone else, okay? I was distraught! Why would I keep reading that shit?”

Richie opens his mouth, about to tease that maybe he should have said he was ‘really dumb’ instead of just ‘a little dumb’, when Eddie’s words finally register.

“Wait, Eds… You’re in love with me?”

The line is quiet, until Eddie squeaks out a little “Fuck.”

#car’s fanfiction #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter 2 #it 2019 #aaand that’s all I got in me for this one lol #just imagine a lot of denial and eventual confessions on both sides lol

[carolmunson]

you keep me without chains | em.

this is a re-post of a ramble fic of me processing some stuff i've been through and am struggling with in my own healing. if you're familiar with my 'bad at feelings' series, it's in a similar vein of writing except eddie is incredibly soft and sweet to reader who is going through her own stuff. eddie sucks here, i don't think it's a correct characterization of him but it's just me using him as a placeholder.

originally, i didn't want to put this story in the tags because it's sad and explores the mindset of someone in a non-physically abusive relationship. however, since it is DV awareness month, i wanted to make sure to express that if there are people reading this who are struggling that they aren't alone and there are people there that understand and support them. and also that if there are younger readers reading (still eighteen plus!) who aren't sure if they are in an abusive relationship they are maybe able to get some context via fiction. my inbox is always open. DV Hotline US: 800-799-7233 DV Hotline UK: 0808 2000 247 tw: 18+ mindors dni, references to emotional and psychological abuse, minor threats of physical violence.

he left this morning with a kiss on your cheek and your lips, a nuzzle against your temple when you gave him two thermos's, one with hot black coffee and the other with the beef stew you made last night. hot hot hot. the way he likes it.

you made bread, so crisp on the outside, pillowy soft on the inside. he groaned when he popped it in his mouth at the dinner table, soaked in broth and butter. you warmed some in the oven when you put his lunch together, wrapping it in foil to trap the heat -- maybe it'll keep until his lunch hour. he might eat it all before his lunch hour. he never eats breakfast really.

you clean the counters and do the laundry while he's away. no kids to take care of, not yet at least. you mend his spare coveralls, treating the grease and oils stains, resewing his name tag stiched in red thread. you shine your mary janes and stilettos, shine his doc's just to be nice. you fix his patches on his vest from the last show he went to. you clean the stubble out of the sink in the bathroom.

he has the car so there's nowhere to go.

you shower, you do your hair, put make up on, go through the motions while he's not home. he hates to wait for you to do it but you hate looking tired when you're out and about. better to do it when he's busy doing something else.

next door neighbor is heading to the library, knocks on your door to see if you wanna come with. she just wants you to get out of the house for once, stop playing wife to a man who hasn't married you yet.

you hesistate, wanting to be home in time to make dinner, but you can't imagine the library taking too long so you go. she looks at you with a strained pity that you can't stand. he doesn't hit you, so why does she even look at you like that? he'd never do that. he just got back from all that shit with a few screws loose. he never knows what he means when he says it.

he's always sorry. y'know? he's always sorry. sorta.

doesn't hit you but you know how the day will go by the way he says good morning. by the way he wakes up with you -- or without you. know how the night will go by the way he breathes when he comes in through the storm door. by the cadence of his steps on the metal stairs. by the way the van pulls in.

sometimes things break and that's fine cause he just replaces them. he knows he shouldn't have thrown it, he knows he shouldn't have tossed it, he knows. he knows. that's why he gets it the very next day. new plates, new house phone, new coffee pot, new records, new casettes, new picture frames, new flower pots. he doesn't throw them at you. he's only punched the wall twice. he slams his head against it all the time. cause he knows he's not good. he knows. you go to the library and check out some books, laugh at your neighbors jokes, tell her about your weekend in the city visiting his friends. he held your hand in front of everyone and pulled you onto his lap, he joked with you and you laughed the whole time. you went to see a band play that you'd never heard of and he got you a t-shirt and the next morning you all went out for hot chocolate and breakfast and he kissed the whipped cream off your lips and ran his thumb over your engagement ring over and over. he never stopped calling you baby. so charming. so perfect. you don't know what you did to earn it, but you've been chasing it ever since. modeling that week's behavior into this one. tip toes through the tulips of the trailer. jagged. shell like.

you get home from the library and lunch, she even stops with you when you mention you have to go to the grocery store. out of eggs for meatloaf, needed some canned string beans for one of the sides.

it's the best dinner you've made in a while and the mashed potatoes are double whipped and extra buttery because he can never get enough of them. you know that it's little things like that. you love the smile he gets when you tell him you do some things just for him, so blushy and boyish.

'that's so nice, baby,' he gushes, 'thinkin'a me.' and god he gushes. cries when he can't contain it. saw you in a new dress and wiped his eyes. new hair cut sent him into orbit.

so pretty.

you're so beautiful, i don't deserve you.

you're gorgeous i -- i can't even like, think.

presents on your birthday. handwritten notes with tear drops washing over the ink in a wave, blurry letters blue and black, black and blue. he'd never hit you. too in love. too bursting with affection when he looks at you. too nervous when you look at him when he takes you out. when he plays a show. when he sees you get dressed into your pjs at night. you're so good to me. especially when you hold him through those nightmares. when you calm his anxiety, those deep breath panic attacks. the ones that the meds miss when he misses them. you're patient through the mood swings and he always says thank you. he always says it -- you're the only one that understands him. that sees him. sometimes you don't get it. that's what he says at least. you don't get it and that makes him upset. but you're not sure what there is to get. and you try not to get sad about it -- 'bout anything really 'cause you're not the one who got a few screws knocked loose. nothing bad like that happened to you. i mean, sure, maybe some bad things happened to you but not like the way bad things happened to him, right? you wouldn't get it. but he gets you, he tells you all the time. he gets you so well. symbiotic. the only person who knows you, the only person whose been in your skin -- right? at least that's what he says, and he's said it so long you can't help but believe it.

your eyes fall on the newly vased roses he bought you two days ago from the florist near the shop. bright red petals opened and fat, contrasting against the pea green of the walls. you smile at them while you pour gravy over each plate, extra on his mashed potatoes. he kissed you this morning, he was almost late leaving the house -- couldn't stop kissing you. couldn't stop looking at you with those brown eyes, sparkling with a mischief saved for tonight.

the van rolls in as you set the table, still in your outfit from earlier, the books you checked out on the counter need the flowers. the storm door opens off kilter, your throat constricts. you know by the way he doesn't say anything when he comes in the house. work boots kicked off with loud thumps. his jacket swishing with a thwap when he throws it with a grunt to the ground. something bad must've happened at work. 'hey honey,' you say quietly, 'got dinner for you.'

you know better, watching him turn the corner into the dinette, looking down at you from where he stands and you sit. you hold a mug full of orange juice on the table, fingers tapping on it silently while he holds his gaze. 'you goin' somewhere, dressed up like that?' he asks, there's nothing behind those sparkling eyes now. dulled out to hollow brown.

'no,' you shrug, you know how to coreograph your responses now -- still stepping on his toes sometimes, 'went to the library with gina, she just wanted a friend for some errands.'

'you know gina doesn't like me,' he nods, walking to the fridge to grab a beer, 'she doesn't like us together. she hates me.'

'she doesn't hate you, ed,' you assure, voice still calm, mediating, 'no one hates you.'

'your folks hate me, your sister hates me,' he nods, curls bouncing while he takes a swig, like it's normal conversation. so steady, 'you think they like that i got you ever here in this trailer park?'

'my parents don't ha--'

'they do.' and that's final. you don't argue. and he's right. your parents don't like him and that's why you don't call anymore, and they stopped calling you too. so did all your friends from back home.

'so what'd gina tell you about me today, then?' he presses.

'nothin'," you shrug, 'we didn't talk about you.'

'of course not,' he laughs but it's one that sends a chill under your skin, a laugh to not seem so mean when you know he's about to be, 'she was prob'ly tryna set you up with someone. that's why you got all dressed up right? anything to look good for other guys out there.'

's'cuse me?' 'you heard me,' he nods, voice still steady like nothing's wrong, 'that's why you wore all those tight jeans in the city last weekend, right? those dresses? tryna show off to harrington and the guys. don't act like i didn't notice.'

'what are you talking about? why didn't you say anything when we were there?' you heart rate quickens, you try not to get mad.

'i shouldn't have to. but that's how you are, y'know?' he shrugs, another swig, another chuckle, 'makin' dinner and everything, you must've been out there makin' eyes at everyone if you made my favorite.'

'i wasn't doing that,' you urge, voice raising, tears threatening to pool, 'i just made it cause you like it, cause it makes you happy.'

'so you just do anything to make sure i don't get mad? do you even know why you do stuff like this for me?' he asks.

'what are you even saying?' your voice raises again, a mild yell. you're frazzled now, heart racing, head already scrambled.

'don't yell, what're you -- fuck babe, see! this is why gina doesn't like me,' he grits through his teeth, 'cause you're always making a scene over nothing. you're over fuckin' reacting.'

'i --' your voice catches in your throat, quieting, 'i'm sorry? i'm sorry.'

'd'you even know what you're sorry for?' he nearly sneers, 'always sayin' your sorry over nothing. y'know somethin' babe, sorry loses it's meaning when you're sayin' it all the time. it doesn't mean anything from you anymore.'

you nod, losing your resilience, too confused about how quickly you got here -- and he's right. you're always apologizing but half the time you don't even know what you're apologizing for. just that you feel like you need to be sorry. like you need to say sorry.

he holds that stare on you like he's waiting for you to speak again. daring you to say something. you stare down at the wood grain of the table, blank and empty -- numb, even. the mug between your hands is warm from how hard you were gripping the ceramic to keep you grounded.

's'what i thought,' he nods, voice a low rumble while he makes his way to the bathroom.

he'd never hit you.

the slam of the bathroom door makes you flinch.

sometimes you wish he would. maybe it would hurt less than this. at least that physical pain fades, right? at least it wasn't the same dull ache on a bruise that won't go away. are you hemmorhaging? do you just not feel it yet? will it be too late when you do?

he slides into bed with you at night after spending the rest of the evening out back with the other couples and families that were smoking ribs, having a little fire out in the brush. he smells like cigarettes. you could hear his grizzly laugh through the windows while you laid in the dark of your bedroom. too tired after the way he spoke to you to do anything else. everyone's favorite mechanic loverboy in the park.

you feel his fingertips on your shoulder, one of them gliding down the slope of your arm. he presses his lips to your shoulder blade, your eyes shut -- blearing with tears from that dull ache.

'dinner was really good, baby,' he says softly, a whisper.

you try to get out a thank you but it becomes a choke, a sniffle, a gasp. then a cry and then a harder one, remembering how he rolled his eyes at you two weeks ago when you cried after he threw out the love letter you wrote him for your four year anniversary because 'you didn't mean any of that shit anyway'.

he sits up, shushing you softly while his hand smooths over your bicep.

'what is it, sweetheart?' he asks, 'are you mad at me?'

you shake your head no. looking up at him, lying flat on your back. he looks so handsome in the moonlight, concerned eyes and tilted head peering down at you. 'n-no, ed. m'not mad at y-you,' you push out, head still scrambled. you feel guilty about last weekend, about going out today. what if guys really were looking? you know you weren't looking at them but what if they got the wrong idea? gina doesn't know what she's talking about, she's always hated ed. ever since they were kids.

'you just havin' one of your moments?' he asks, soothing voice, 'yeah?' one of your moments. always just one of your moments. couldn't be him, you're just -- maybe you're over thinking it.

'yeah,' you nod, 'm'sorry i went out with gina, baby i -- she didn't say anything bad about you.'

'it's okay,' he smiles, 'm'not mad at you. never mad at my girl.'

'no?' you ask, swallowing hard -- your heart leaps. he's not mad. maybe he just had a rough day.

'no doll, m'never mad at you. you always think i'm mad at you,' he says, thumb brushing away the tears that threatened to roll down the sides of your face to your hair line, 'you need me to kiss it better?'

another sob rips through you, nodding, because you do. you need it. and you sort of hate that you need it. you hate yourself for needing it. but he kisses you and it does feel better. he knows how to kiss you just right, he always has. he knows just where to put his hands. just how to pull away and brush his nose against yours. how to kiss your forehead between affirmations. smooth and understanding, like a movie scene. his kisses are his apologies. his sorry. you accept it every time.

because he doesn't hit you and he never would. in the morning, when the bathroom door slams so hard the walls vibrate, you flinch.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #dark!eddie munson #dark eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction

[morganski-19]

The One with the Trifle Pt 2

part 1 here

A little while later, Robin and Eddie return, bringing the trifle with them. Argyle, thoroughly stoned, walks over to it, leaning down to stare at it eye level.

“Looks great, dude. What is it?”

“English trifle. I found this old cookbook in a thrift shop and thought it looked good. And there was no oven involved, so nothing is burnt this year,” Robin points the last question at Steve, glaring at him.

Steve presses his lips together, trying not to say anything bad. “Yep, nothing looks burnt.”

“Just wait until you taste it,” she excitedly goes on. “I tried everything separately and it was so good, so I’m excited to see what it tastes like all together.”

“What’re the layers?” Argyle asks, still staring at the dessert.

“Lady fingers, then jam, custard, that I made from scratch, raspberries, more ladyfingers, then beef sauteed with peas and onions. More custard, a layer of bananas, and then some whipped cream. Weird right?”

Nancy chokes on her drink. “Weird. What’s weird about it?”

“The beef. Everything else is so sweet it just seems out of place. But then I was like, there’s a mince meat pie. And pies are sweet, so this is just normal for them I guess.”

Eddie claps his hands, getting everyone attention. Totally not nervous about all of this. “Yeah, so normal. Is the rest of the food ready? I am starved.”

They all sit down at the table and have their dinner. The rest of the food is very good, no complaints there. They play cards and talk in between dinner and dessert, after everyone helps clean up of course. Eddie might convince Argyle to give him a joint, just to prepare a little bit. Also, he hates Thanksgiving, so it helps.

“Remind me again why you hate Thanksgiving,” Nancy asks after crushing them all in a round of poker.

“My dad liked to think that you couldn’t get arrested on holidays, which isn’t true. When I was nine, he stole a car, immediately got caught, then got arrested. Happened again when I was twelve. And then I think again when I was fifteen, but I was living with Wayne at that point. Every year, people get together to be thankful, while I get reminded of my dick of a father. Who is probably in jail again for doing something stupid.”

Jonathan winces. “That sucks, man.”

Eddie shuffles the cards. “Yeah. But my uncle’s great though. More of a father to me than my own father was. Would have invited him if he didn’t already have plans.”

They play a few more rounds, Eddie able to sneak in win when Nancy gets dealt a bad hand. Jonathan even wins once, even though he’s a bit confused at what game they’re really playing.

Then it’s time, and Robin starts to plate the trifle. Taking a big spoonful of all the layers and handing them to everyone. Finally sitting down with her own piece, with a huge smile. Steve takes a deep breath in preparation. Nancy gives Steve one last dead glare. One that says both “this is your fault” and “if you mess this up, I will kill you”.

Jonathan pokes around the plate with his fork, inspecting it. Argyle looks actually excited to eat this and Eddie is just twirling the fork around in his hand waiting for someone else to eat it first.

“Steve, I want you to take the first bite,” Robin says, ever so sweetly. With just a touch of malice in her voice. “Since you always doubt my cooking so much.”

Steve nods, pained. “Right. Yeah, of course.” He takes a forkful of the trifle, skirting around the beef.

“You missed a whole layer there. I want to make sure you eat all of it.” Robin smirks at him. Steve can’t tell if it’s because she’s hiding something or because she’s made about his earlier comments. Mind too filled with the anxiety over eating this.

Steve stares at the dessert before his eyes, taking a deep breath before giving Robin a pained smile. Then eating the trifle, trying his hardest not to gag. “It’s great, Rob,” he says, trying to swallow. “So good.”

“Alright, now the rest of you.”

Nancy takes a breath before just shoving a forkful in her mouth. Looking like she barely chews before swallowing it. Jonathan eats it like anything else, looking partially confused, but taking a moment to register what all the flavors are. Argyle just keeps eating it.

Eddie doesn’t eat it at all.

“Steve’s right, probably the best thing you’ve made,” Nancy acts better than Steve did. “You should send me the recipe.”

“Yeah, dude,” Argyle says, plate now half empty. “This is really good.”

Robin bursts out laughing, causing the rest of the table to look at her. “I can’t believe you actually ate it. Oh my God.”

“What?” Steve says, half choking on the water he was drinking.

“I didn’t actually think that beef belonged in the trifle. Do you all really think I’m that dumb?”

Jonathan looks up from his plate, eyes squinted. “What’s going on?”

Argyle leans over. “Not sure but Robin’s laughing a lot.”

Robin stands up, taking her plate and throwing her piece in the trash. “Hold on a second.”

Eddie stands after she leaves, taking his own plate and throwing out his untouched piece of the trifle. “I need you all to know, that I had no idea about this before today. And if it weren’t for Nancy making fun of the way I slice green beans-.”

“Because no one slices green beans that way,” Nancy exclaims.

“I do,” Eddie says dramatically. “Wayne has done it for me that way since I was a kid and wasn’t the biggest fan of green beans. If you want them cut a certain way, you should tell people.”

Nancy pauses. “That is a good point. I’m sorry for getting mad at you.”

“Thank you.” Eddie sees Jonathan and Argyle still eating the not real trifle. “Oh guys, you don’t have to eat that. It was a prank.”

“What?” Jonathan asks, still not sure what’s going on.

Argyle leans over again. “This was a prank, we don’t have to eat this anymore.”

“But it’s dessert.”

“Yeah, but not the real dessert.”

Jonathan is not putting the pieces together. “Where’s the real dessert then?”

“Don’t know, man. It isn’t here yet.”

Nancy stands, taking the two plates in front of them. “I’m just going to move these.”

“Jesus, dude, how much did you smoke?” Steve asks, finally throwing his food away.

Robin comes back into the apartment with another trifle in her hands, this one beef free. She places it in the center of the table, smiling maniacally. “This is the real trifle.”

The real trifle looks exactly like a picture of one would. Layers of lady fingers, jam, custard, and fruit. All perfectly even, with not a speck of beef in sight.

“That,” Nancy starts, still in shock, “looks really good.”

“I know, right.” Robin sits back down in her seat. “And it really wasn’t that hard either. The only thing that I had to make myself was the custard, which was actually pretty easy.”

“I knew that’s not how cookbooks worked,” Steve says annoyed, glaring at Eddie.

Eddie shrugs, “It was part of the bit.”

Argyle stares at the new trifle. “I think you’re missing a layer there, dude.”

“No, she added an extra layer before,” Eddie explains. “This one is the correct one.”

“If you say so.” Argyle leans back into the chair, still skeptical.

The real trifle is dished out and eaten pretty fast. Everyone apologizing to Robin for doubting her. She sits with a smug look on her face for the rest of the night.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

#morgan's friends au #friends au #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #pre relationship #steddie #ronance #jargyle #recreational drug use #recreational marijuana

[deluweil]

Totally with you on the Tommy-thing. Fandom makes me dislike him so I am not reading things about him any longer. This entire storyline is good for representation, yeah but so fsr not really showcasing a good relationship. Tommy let Buck stand there because he was fed up but he knew Buck is new to this. What did he expect?

And yeah, Lou is a totally different story there. I like sseing his view on things.

Btw do you think JHL will get as much flack for following the transphobe on IG now as Ryan did a while ago? Guess not huh?

I have resorted to blocking all bucktommy groupies, they make me dislike the fandom experience.

I have no beef with the actors, I love all of them, my problems are ever with the writers and showrunners that handles themselves in a very idiotic way when it comes to Buck and Eddie.

It's like they only know how to develop characters that are in established relationships or how to develop a character within a relationship only, and even that they do poorly because they haven't even decided after 7 SEASONS where they want the boys to end.

And by the way, since the only way they know is how to develop the characters only inside a relationship is also why Buck and Eddie are so intertwined, because if you notice, they are only growing when they are written together! The writers wrote themselves into this corner.

Anyone watching other shows knows that best friends are not written that way, that they have their own individual stories and they come together for a good beer hangout or heart to heart, or relationship advices or rooming together (Casey and Severide) because their roommate and best friend died (Severide and Shay) or their house burned down chasing a story with the reporter LI (Casey and I can't remember her name atm but she was good for him).

There are so many ways to write best friends without them being mistaken for endgame, but that is not what is happening in 911 and Oliver confirmed it himself, neither Eddie nor Buck are written in a straight manner and the actors know that, the question is, will the showrunners catch up eventually?

Lou is awesome, I like him, I like him in any show I 've seen him, lately that was SWAT. He's a good actor and seems like he's fun to be around, in a way, they kind brought Ryan/Eddie 2.0 to the cast, I find it very amusing lol.

LOL no, Ryan has been controversial even before Chrysti-Ann brought him down with her, he's poc, he's not Oliver, he speaks his mind and he doesn't cater to stupid and demanding hetero-normative showrunners. How dare he? lol

People were #TeamEvan even before #buddie came into our lives, Lou being added is the perfect excuse to tarnish Eddie so they can put him out of the picture - the haters of course - it's pretty clear that Tim is very fond of him.

And Murphy brought him in without an audition because he knows how good of an actor he really is.

JLH, like Oliver, is a fan favorite, and a beautiful fun white woman, no way would she get any blowback as Ryan. Toxicity in this fandom brings about a lot of hypocritical aspects, but that is a lot of reflection of the lives we live today outside of the fandom.

All we can do is curate our dashes and filters and make for a fun and safe environment to enjoy our time in.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 spoilers #oliver stark #ryan guzman #JLH #I really like Lou #toxic fandom makes me dread bucktommy #toxic fandom issues #again don't rb this with an opposing opinion just block me if you don't like my opinions save me the trouble of blocking you in return #not addressed to the anon here #I have been having pesky toxic groupies problems lately until i block everyone this is going to be regular tag #911 cast #911 ask #911 speculation

[kkpwnall]

wine & dine

or: the quickest way to a man’s heart (and parts beyond)

((edit: now on ao3))

[ @corrodedcoughin laid down a reverse uno card, and i am extremely susceptible to gentle persuasion. i know you asked for headcanons, but apparently i have lots of thoughts about eddie taking a cooking class to wine and dine steve so this one got a bit away from me. anyway, hope you like it, and hope your day got better. ]

“Shit!”

Steve’s steps up the trailer stairs falter when he hears Eddie’s shout. He balances a tray of cupcakes and a bouquet of red daisies in one hand and knocks on the door.

“Fuck!” Eddie shouts again, followed by a loud banging and clanging.

“Eddie?” Steve knocks again. He’s been here often enough since they started dating that he knows he doesn’t have to knock, that he’s welcome to just walk right in. But it’s their date night, and he wants to do this right.

More banging, more clanging, more cursing. Then the alarm starts. That’s enough for Steve.

“Eddie!” He bursts through the door and skids to a stop halfway to the kitchenette. The trailer is full of smoke and Eddie is right in the middle of it, waving a dish towel in front of the screaming smoke detector. Steve drops the cupcakes and the flowers on the small kitchen table and grabs a flaming pan of… something off the burner, moving it to one of the empty burners further back on the range and cutting the gas.

Eddie gives up trying to fan the smoke away, and climbs up on the counter to rip the alarm out of the ceiling instead. Steve grabs his abandoned towel and flings open the kitchen window, fanning the smoke out as Eddie manages to get the thing off the ceiling without bringing the tiles crashing down on their heads.

He rips the batteries out of the back of it and turns to look at Steve, panting like he’s run a marathon. Eddie’s thighs are eye level with Steve, who has to drag his eyes up and away from his favorite gray sweatpants, the ones that always make him a little crazy, past the old sleeveless band shirt cropped above Eddie’s waist, to finally look up at him. Eddie’s curls are spilling loose from the bun he’d tied them up in, framing his flushed face and wild eyes.

“You’re early,” is all he says, looking Steve up and down. He suddenly feels over-dressed, standing there in the middle of the tiny kitchen with his maroon button down securely tucked into his best pressed khakis. He even wore the leather shoes with the little tassels on them.

Steve tugs self-consciously at his shirt and looks around the kitchen. “It’s date night,” he says simply. “Thought I'd see if you needed any help with dinner.”

It looks like Eddie’s used every dish in the house. Twice. He’s crouched on the kitchen counter now, looking like a wild animal that might bolt at any sudden movements. Steve slowly reaches out a hand and tucks some of those stray curls behind Eddie’s ear. “Seems like you’ve got it handled though.”

Eddie sighs and flops down so he’s sitting on the counter. He puts his head in his hands and mumbles, “this isn’t how this was supposed to go.”

“What are you talking about? I’m here, you’re here, you made us…” he looks over at the softly smoldering pan, trying to figure out what exactly Eddie’s been making, “dinner? Sounds like the perfect date night to me.”

Eddie just groans and shakes his head, hiding behind his hands and his hair.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad, it’s only a little burnt. We can still salvage it.” He throws the towel on his shoulder, and unbuttons his cuffs, starts to roll up his sleeves. “What are we having?”

“Beef stroganoff,” Eddie mumbles through his hands.

“If you’re going for medium well, I think it’s done.”

Eddie just groans. “Steve…”

“Hey, hey,” Steve puts his hands on Eddie’s wrists, gently pulling them away from his face.

Eddie looks close to tears. Steve brushes Eddie’s bangs out of his eyes with one hand and cups his cheek with the other. “I’m sorry. You just surprised me, I didn’t know you could cook like this. I thought we were gonna have Macaroni a la Eddie tonight.”

Eddie makes a face, and looks away, mumbling something so quietly, Steve wouldn’t have known he’d said anything if he didn’t see his lips move. Steve dodges down and around, trying to catch Eddie’s gaze again as he plays keep-away with his eyes.

“Didn’t catch that, Eds.”

Eddie sighs dramatically and half shouts, “I’ve been taking a cooking class down at the learning annex!”

“Oh…” that pulls Steve up short. That’s time, that’s effort, that’s… serious.

“The head chef at Enzo’s has a class every Thursday night, and it went fine when I made it there! I don’t know what happened tonight!”

“Well there’s your problem, you’ve got an Italian chef teaching you a German recipe.”

“Pretty sure it’s Russian, dude,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “And it’s not just Italian, she teaches a different recipe every week.”

“Ok so, let’s figure this out. Where’s the recipe?”

Eddie looks around and fishes out a slightly singed, very crumpled piece of paper from under the corner of the cutting board with a half-chopped onion on it. It’s less a recipe and more doodles and half-written thoughts in Eddie’s chicken-scratch. Some of the ingredients don’t even have a measurement next to them, just ‘brandy,’ ‘Worcestershire,’ ‘beef’. Nothing like how Steve bakes, with everything carefully measured out and plotted before he even starts mixing.

It also becomes rapidly apparent that Eddie doesn’t have half the ingredients the recipe calls for, as Eddie directs Steve from his perch on the counter, translating his hieroglyphic scrawl and making substitutions on the fly. But together they manage to cobble together something that might resemble a technical definition of beef stroganoff. It’s got beef at least, all the burnt parts scraped off, and noodles. Steve figures it’s close enough.

Eddie rinses out an old coffee grounds can to put the flowers in while Steve plates their dinner. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve catches Eddie holding the bouquet to his nose, a soft smile on his face.

When they sit down at the scratched and dented and much-loved table, Eddie quickly scarfs down several bites. He chews thoughtfully and makes a face. Steve’s barely got the fork halfway to his mouth when Eddie whisks his plate away and throws the whole thing in the garbage can.

“Hey, I was eating that!”

“No, you’re not,” Eddie says fiercely. “You’re not getting poisoned tonight.”

Steve takes the bite on his fork defiantly and stares Eddie down as he chews. It’s somehow both over-cooked and underdone. He chews and chews and eventually swallows, and does not make a face.

Eddie stares back, hands on his hips, working his jaw back and forth. Steve twirls his fork in the air. “I came hungry tonight. I’ll eat it out of the trash can, don’t tempt me.”

He holds Eddie’s gaze for a beat longer, then he’s up and out of his chair, pivoting around Eddie like he’s on the basketball court. He just manages to stick his fork in the trash can before Eddie jumps on his back.

“At least let me get the plates out of there!”

“No!”

They wrestle for a few minutes, knocking things off the counter, and making a bigger mess than the one Steve walked in on tonight. Eddie grapples for his hands, but Steve’s arms are longer so he gives up and puts his hands over Steve’s eyes, making him stumble backwards into the refrigerator. The cereal boxes on top fall off as Eddie gives a small “ooft” and slides off his back.

Steve whirls around and pins Eddie to the fridge with his hands on his hips. His lips find Eddie’s and he kisses him fiercely, already breathless. Eddie holds out for a moment, just for a beat, then he winds his arms around Steve’s shoulders and sinks his hands into Steve’s hair with a deep sigh. His mouth parts and Steve deepens the kiss, titling his head just so, tongues brushing, hot, desperate, feverish. He drags his hands slowly up Eddie’s waist, toying with the raw edge of his cropped shirt, thumbing over his ribs. Just as slowly, he drags his hands back down, plucking at the waistband of those stupid sweatpants. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips along Eddie’s jaw, down his neck. He drags his tongue over Eddie’s collarbone and scrapes his teeth over the spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

“Why have you been taking cooking classes?” Steve breathes into his neck, trailing his nose back up under his ear.

“Don’t make me say it…” Eddie says with a groan.

“Eddie…” He sinks his teeth into Eddie’s pulse point, and soothes the bite with his tongue.

Eddie growls, he actually growls. Steve feels it rumble from Eddie’s throat under his lips as Eddie gently tugs on his hair in frustration. It sends a thrill of electricity straight down Steve’s spine, making him press closer. “Because I wanted to learn how to make fancy recipes for you! You deserve better than box mac and cheese!”

Steve pulls back, just slightly, just enough to see Eddie’s eyes, just enough so Eddie knows he’s serious.

“I love box mac and cheese. Especially when you cut up the little hotdogs to put in it? With the hot sauce? That’s what makes it Macaroni a la Eddie.”

“You’re Steve Harrington,” Eddie says desperately, “you deserve to be wined and dined. And I—”

“Hey,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hips in his hands, shaking them gently. “You’re Eddie Munson, if anyone deserves to be wined and dined it’s you. I’ll get dressed up and take you out every night. Candlelight, roses, you name it.” He can’t resist, doesn’t even try to resist, diving back in for another kiss, gently dancing his fingers from Eddie’s hips to his waist, then smoothing them back down. “I’ll hold your hand and shout about it from the rooftops. ‘I’m dating Eddie Munson and we’re more in love than you’ll ever be!’”

“Always a competition with you jocks,” Eddie rolls his eyes and grouches, but his tone is fond.

“It is, and I’m winning.” Steve pecks a kiss on Eddie’s nose.

Eddie catches his lips, draws him back down for another kiss. It’s less frantic but just as heated. Until Steve’s stomach growls and Eddie breaks away laughing.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I came hungry,” Steve laughs, pressing his forehand against Eddie’s.

“Yeah, well… sorry I messed up dinner. I think my cheffing days are over. Glad you like box macaroni, ‘cause that’s all we’re having from here on out.”

“No way,” Steve says, shaking his head. “I just got used to fancy home cooking, I need to taste your other recipes. And you need a sous chef.”

Eddie looks at him skeptically. “Steve, I almost burnt down the trailer tonight, you really want to try that again?”

“Absolutely,” Steve says immediately, kissing him lightly again.

Eddie still doesn’t look convinced though, so Steve says, “let’s make a deal, ok? You can experiment as much as you want in the kitchen, try anything at any time, as long as you let me help. And, if it’s truly inedible, which I do not for a single second believe is possible, I’ll buy us a pizza. Deal?”

Eddie’s eyes flick between both of Steve’s as he thinks it over. He bites his lip and nods. “Deal.”

“Good,” Steve kisses him again, sealing the deal. He pulls Eddie away from the fridge and nudges him towards his bedroom with a wink. “Go get changed, we’ve got a date tonight.”

Eddie laughs, “what, you don’t like the sweatpants?”

“I love the sweatpants,” Steve says with feeling. “Which is why you need to get changed right now. Otherwise I won’t be able to keep my hands off you for the rest of our date.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a cheeky wink of his own.

Steve playfully slaps at his ass and starts looking for the phone book. “The Works?”

“No olives,” Eddie reminds him.

“Extra olives, got it,” Steve says, picking up the phone.

Eddie sticks his tongue out at him, backing away towards his room.

Steve quickly dials the number and fumbles through the order. They’ve got at least thirty minutes before the delivery shows up. If he hurries, maybe he can take those sweatpants off with his teeth.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steveddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #red daisies for devotion #idefk what happened here #obviously not beta read #barely even spell checked #i just disassociated into my notes app and… #it’s been a terrible day and i just needed some fluff #it's angst hours in my wip so nobody's having a good time rn #so here's 2k words i *didn't* write on my wip today #kk writes #cringe and free #writing #do i dare post this on ao3? #idk i’ve never posted there before #i usually just share the doc with friends #anyway it’s one in the morning and i have to work a double tomorrow so i’m just going to yeet this out on the dash and go to bed

[theshippirate22]

do you have any h/c steddie fic recs? perf where steve’s just insanely traumatised like my bby has hella ptsd

thanks!

omg fam you have come to the right place. literally all i read is hurt/comfort ESPECIALLY when it’s all happening to Steve I eat that shit up.

I’ve gotta start with @infinite-orangepeel’s like entire steddie profile because every fic dynamic is like:

steve: i am broken beyond repair and utterly unlovable nothing can fix me

eddie: mmmm what if we tried letting me fuck you into oblivion

which is 👌👌 but it’s also built on

eddie: i’m a monster and unforgivable and nothing will help

steve: mmmm what if we tried letting you fuck me into oblivion

so always always check out her stuff especially if you want some really good comfort smut (especially it’s rotten work that’s my favorite)

okay as for individual fics *cracks knuckles* listen. you’re about to see a pattern that is very telling about me and i want no beef about me because i just want to read the same fic but a little to the left let me be 😭

pulled from the grave by multi_fandom_help_me (completely out of it steve looking for eddie subconsciously supremacy>>>)

crybaby by purplekingdom (ah yes. steve convinced he’s completely unlovable. no i’m not projecting. don’t look at me like that.)

broken by cappuccino (wouldn’t be hurt/comfort without the Harrington Parents: Asshole Extraordinaires™️)

eddie munson and the dreamboy by pukner (insanely good. also baby steve makes an appearance and eddie is there to help him in ‘84 and stuff)

like i always do by AidaRonan (literally one of my favorites of all time this changed my brain chemistry)

take your silver spoon, dig your grave by fangirlandtheories (Harrington Parents: Asshole Extraordinaires Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. also one of my favorite eddie lines of all time “this sandwich is fucking orgasmic harrington”)

so let it out and let it in by fangirlandtheories (this one has the kids!!! maybe i’m still projecting too. whatever.)

picking at grout as i softly grieve by dropsofjupiter314 (i read this every single time i have a bad day)

you are sunshine by YouMakeMyHeartHowl (agonizing. i love it)

Gently, by TheDeathsWish (i read this probably twice a week)

drugs and candy by multi_fandom_help_me (thank god someone is addressing the russian torture thing that the show just. forgets about.)

five little things by ahappylittlehermit (once again addressing the trauma that the show just pretends doesn’t happen)

the world is a lonely place, you’re on your own by Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan (this has not once left my brain one moment since i first read it. also wayne is adorable)

You’re not bullshit by Roady_Roadster (fixes the soul crushing stancy breakup)

screams of the night and soothing songs by steviemunson (established steddie and they live with blind max <<3 my heart can only take so much)

wow that got long fast. maybe i have a problem. anyway thank you for asking because i always want to talk about my favorite fics and i hope you find some that you like!!!!! have a great day!!!

#steddie #steddie hurt/comfort #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fic recs #anonymous asks

[chronicowboy]

temptation tuesday

tagged by @try-set-me-on-fire (i have such a big fat creative crush on you btw) <333

so i am trying to focus on my original fiction (my queer (mainly wlw) pirate novel, my play called GENDERENVY, my sitcom about my evil hellhound of a dog) for my last summer before i graduate but obviously fic is an unmoving parasite on my brain so you can have a little extract of the fic i most want to write but absolutely cannot continue for some reason:

Somebody sits down beside him. A woman of around his age who is beautiful—no other way to put it—and only vaguely familiar like an itch in the back of his skull. She's short, probably wouldn't even reach his shoulders if they were to stand, pale skin and a freckled face, piercing green eyes and red hair so dark it almost looks purple until the sunlight catches it. She smiles at him when she catches him looking, something searching on her face like she's trying to place him just as much as he's trying to place her.

"Oh, you're Buck, right?" she asks with a dazzling moment of realisation. "Christopher's dad?"

Ah.

"Oh, um, no, not exactly," he mumbles. "I mean, yes, I'm Buck, and I'm here for Christopher." He wrinkles his nose at himself, squinting slightly in the glare of the afternoon sun. "Not, like, here for him here, you know? I'm not, like, kidnapping him. And I'm not-not his dad?" He clears his throat and glances back at the entrance, checking his watch as his leg starts to bounce. "I mean, I'm not his dad. I'm his dad's best friend. And Christopher's best friend too." She tilts her head at him, eyes narrowing with a scrutiny that only makes the words keep coming. "But, uh, not in, like, a no responsibility way. I'm also kind of his guardian? Or, well, not yet. That only ever happens if Eddie dies. Which, um." He swallows loudly, fear bitter as bile and thick as mucus in the back of his throat. "Fingers crossed that that won't happen." There's an awkward laugh as Buck rubs at the back of his neck. "I'm..." He sighs, shoulders drooping. "I'm Christopher's Buck."

When he turns back to her, he's expecting her own awkward smile or amused laugh; that's normally how these things unfold. Although Buck has never quite beefed it that spectacularly before. Instead, when he returns his attention to her, there's a dazed sort of understanding on her face. That's when he sees a glimpse of her with one of Christopher's friends at the last bake sale.

"You're Charlotte's mom, right?" he asks, immediately cursing himself when her cheeks turn red in much the same way he's sure his did at her own assumptions.

(Ass = you and me, Buck thinks.)

"I'm, um, Dina." She introduces herself with a nervous nod, folding her arms over her chest. "Charlotte's mom's best friend," she clarifies with a meaningful look. "And Charlotte's best friend. And, also, a kind of co-parent, I guess?" She bites her lip and looks over at the school doors just like he had. "Legal guardian in the event of Morgan's death too." She nods once again, short and sharp and final, turning to him with something scared and hopeful on her face. "Are you in love with Eddie?"

Before Buck can even splutter in reply, the school bell rings and the doors fly open on a crowd of over-excited children ready to go home and watch TV or play video games until their heads hurt. Buck should probably be looking for Chris, but he can't tear his wide eyes away from Dina's anxious anticipation as she waits for an answer.

"W-what?" he breathes out. For all of these misunderstandings he's been through, even outside of the school, nobody has ever called him out on it before. "I'm not... Why would you... He's not... We're not—"

"Oh, thank God." She sighs happily, a sad grin stretching across her face. "I'm in love with mine too."

tagging my usual lovely legends @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz @diazass @danielsousa @alyxmastershipper if u have anything to share <3

#sami rambles #the idea of this was so crystal clear like 2 months ago i shouldn't have left it but all my deadlines were coming up #i think i have 2 other scenes written after this and i do actually have the whole thing planned #temptation tuesday #buddie wip #tag game #mutuals<33

[lolahasmoxie]

Friendsgiving (E.M.)

Sequel to "Thanksgiving"

This version of Friendsgiving is based on my college days. In 1999, during my first year in college, my friends and I had "Poor Students Thanksgiving." About 7 of my friends arrived at my house the day after Thanksgiving with all their leftovers. We pigged on food and watched "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" and "Meet the Feebles." We did that for a couple of years, and I loved how it grew every year. These gatherings are, to this day, some of my favorite memories from my early twenties.

(p.s. I'm immediately going to write filth after this because balance. Specifically, it's about how Eddie's cums too much in you.)

WARNINGS: fluff, casual intimacy, implied sexy times (sexual talk because I can't write just plain fluff anymore, it's gotta be dirty.)

"Bye everyone, see you boys for Hellfire next weekend!"

Eddie smiled as he listened to you usher the last of your guests out of your home. Since Steve hosted last year, the two of you offered to host Friendsgiving this year.

Your first guest arrived at noon. Dustin came with his mom's beef stroganoff, smiling as he and Eddie greeted each other. Eddie was planning to do a quick dungeon for the boys, and you had heard the two laughing and teasing as they prepared for the group while you put the pies in the oven.

The dinner had been a smashing success. Everyone feasted like kings and queens before moving to the living room. While Eddie and the kids did their dungeon crawl, you caught up with Steve, Nancy, and Robin while eating pie.

You closed the night out with movies, Monty Python and Elm Street, before everyone clambered into cars and returned to their homes. The weather was frigid, leaving no doubt that snow would be coming soon.

"Great evening, huh, babe?" Eddie asks as he joins you in the living room to help you clean up.

"It was perfect. It's always nice when we can all get together."

"Listen, I want to talk to you about something."

"Look, if it's about the other night, it's normal to sometimes finish faster than usual. So you had a hair-trigger night; I was flattered and still had a good time." You glance back at Eddie, who looks confused, cow eyes wide with shock. Whoops.

"Uh, not at all what I was gonna say, but we will circle back. It's about Thanksgiving." Eddie approaches, and he takes your hands when he stands before you. He runs his thumbs over the backs of your hands, brow furrowed as he thinks about what he will say.

"Hey," you tell him quietly. You can't help smiling when his gaze meets yours. "You're scaring me here."

"It's good, I promise. It's just that Thanksgiving is when you're supposed to tell the people in your life that you're thankful for them, and I need you to know that I am. You make my life so much better by just being here. You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I'm thankful that I get to call you mine every day, and I'm sorry I don't say it more."

"Oh, Eds," you say before leaning up and kissing him softly on his plush lips. Eddie responds by cupping your face and tilting your head so he can savor you more. When he pulls away, he leans to rest his forehead against yours.

"Love you, Princess."

"Love you too, babe. But you show me every day you care even if you don't say anything."

"What do you mean?"

"You show me all the time. You show me by filling my tank when you notice I'm low. Or how you get up super early to warm my car before work. You have dinner ready on the nights I come home late. You picked up the newest book by Stephen King for me when I was stuck at work!" Eddie chuckles as he pulls you into a hug.

"Of course I do that; I want my girl safe and happy."

"And I am. I'm thankful for you, too, and I hope we get many more holidays together." You kiss him again and then return to cleaning the living room and kitchen.

When Eddie returns from taking out the trash (and probably leaving leftovers for the raccoons), he finds you putting the last dishes on the drying rack.

"Hey Princess, is that everything?"

"Yes, sir, our castle is now more or less back to normal."

"Good." You shriek when he comes barrelling at you, and with a strength you sometimes forget he possesses, hauls you over his shoulder and starts walking down the hallway.

"Eddie, you're gonna drop me!" His response is a quick slap to your butt, which causes you to let out a whimper which is music to his ears.

"I'm about to show you how thankful I am for you, doll. I also need to make up for the other night. Can't have you thinking I'm some two-pump chump." He drops you onto your bed and immediately begins undressing. You feel your heart catch in your throat as he climbs on the bed and crawls to you, pressing you back until he's hovering over you.

"Eddie, I said it was ok."

"Nah," he says with that panty-dropping smirk. "Ok isn't good enough. In honor of the holidays, I believe I'll start by spending the next 20 minutes or so feasting on my favorite piece of pie."

"20 minutes!" you say with a start as Eddie's hands begin pulling down your skirt along with your panties.

"And that's just to start. Don't worry though, if you're a good girl for me, I'll give you your own cream pie at the end of the night. More than one if you're really good."

"Whatever you say, Eds."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

[apomaro-mellow]

Ep 3

The Caricature Car

Lucas let out a shudder as they exited a door and came to the outside of the car. "Can we take a moment to look around before falling headfirst into something? That was the grossest thing I've ever experienced."

"I tripped", Steve rolled his eyes. "And it wasn't that bad."

"Not that bad?!", Lucas' eyes bugged out.

"Didn't realize you had such an aversion to jello", Eddie grinned.

"That was not jello, that was aspic. Which is just one of the many crimes your people have to eventually answer for", Lucas said while walking the bridge between the cars.

"Who's people do you think he means?", Steve asked.

Eddie patted his shoulder. "I'm gonna wager he's bemoaning the cuisine that many suburban white moms seem to favor. The fact you didn't flinch at beef suspended in gelatin tells a lot about you."

Lucas got to the next door first. "Just watch your step next time."

He opened the door and immediately walked through a scanner. Lucas groaned at his luck while Steve let out a big and smug 'Ha!'.

"What sort of contraption be this?", Chadwick walked in next, but moved around the scanner, as did Steve and Eddie.

All four of them watched in awe as a giant printer sounded and a paper flew from the output. It fluttered until it landed right in front of Lucas. A life size drawing of him with exaggerated features.

"Hey, it's like one of those things you get at an amusement park", Steve snapped his fingers in recognition.

"Honestly not the worst thing to walk into", Eddie put his hands in his pockets as he leaned in to take a closer look at the drawing.

"What are you looking at, freak?", the drawing said, making Eddie jump back, nearly into Steve's chest.

"What the...?", Lucas took a step back.

The drawing stepped off the paper and Chadwick drew his sword. "Stand back, villain!"

"What's he supposed to be? The Tin Man?", Caricature-Lucas said with a sneer.

"Wow, it's like looking at twins", Steve said sarcastically.

"You're taking this so well, it's almost attractive", Eddie said.

Steve would've replied with something he hoped to be clever, but he was caught on Eddie's words.

"Okay, granted, this is probably just as weird as everything else we've seen, but it's still majorly MESSED UP!", Lucas shouted.

Chadwick began to panic. "What evil! I can't tell which is which!"

"Oh give me a break", Lucas groaned and started to walk. The door to the other side wasn't far. It was visible in the distance. Caricature-Lucas followed.

"Why am I going along with these two? A has been and a wannabe?"

Eddie leaned over to Steve. "Am I the has been or the wannabe?"

"Is either good?", Steve asked, tolerating the drawing because surely they'd be able to leave it once they left the car. Then again, Chadwick was able to come with them.

"Steve and Eddie are my friends", Lucas said. "And you don't look anything like me!"

"You're friends with them? I thought the whole reason we joined the team was so we'd stop being bullied. Isn't that why we're doing the basketball camp?", Caricature-Lucas pressed. His paper limbs make crinkly sounds as he walked.

"He's doing the camp because he wants to get better at his game, right Lucas?", Steve said coming up beside him.

"Yeah, I do...But what if getting better means I turn into that?", he asked while gesturing to his paper self.

"I'm what you wanna be", Caricature-Lucas stood in front of him, blocking his way. "Jason was crazy in the end, but you looked up to him. He has everything you want."

"Not everything. And I didn't want to be anything like him."

"Good as basketball, popular, he was able to get the whole town to rally behind him. If you stood up in a crowd and tried that, I don't even think your friends would get behind you."

"Hey, back off", Steve said, pushing the drawing. It felt exactly like shoving paper, ineffective.

Caricature-Lucas continued. "I bet if Jason had shot you that night-"

Eddie roared and took Chadwick's knife, slicing through Caricature-Lucas. Steve took one of the halves and started ripping it into even tinier pieces.

"Fuck that guy", Eddie spit on the lifeless shreds. Then he turned to Chadwick with a low bow. "My apologies for taking your blade without permission.

"None taken, Sir Eddie. I only wish my own hand had been much quicker. How dare he question Sir Lucas' honor and worth?"

"You guys...just ripped me to pieces", Lucas said, looking at what had been himself, all over the ground.

"Lucas, that wasn't you", Steve said. "It was literally a caricature."

"Yeah and a bad one", Eddie added. "Your ears aren't that big. Now if it was my talented hand, I would bring the attention to your strong brow and perfect row of teeth, but that's just me. We can't all be skilled artists."

"Skilled artist my ass, I've seen your doodles", Steve said, stepping over the shreds, towards the door.

"You wound me, good sir!", Eddie exclaimed.

Lucas watched as his number dropped and let out a sigh like a weight had been lifted up from him. He followed behind the two and Chadwick brought up the rear.

Steve’s number: 159

Eddie’s number: 257

Lucas’ number: 25

Next Episode: The Introductions Car

Tag Team

@affablevixen

[yanderefairyangel]

But don't you know, Rafal is a male dragon therefore he ain't human and a beast unlike emperor-chan who's a pure human girl uwu. But seriously, hypocrisy is a fitting look for Eddiestans.

Look, if they don't like Rafal I have no problem with it. Really.

My beef with that person is that they allowed themselves to take a screenshot of one comment regarding Eddie I made while I was talking with a friend about writing in general and made a whole fuss about it, to the point some people got mad at ME for responding to THAT PERSON who meddled into a conversation that DID NOT concerned them and WASN'T about "Eddie bAd" because how dare I flood their TL by responding to someone who doesn't even have the decency to simply respond in the thread or QRT me.

If I can respect that some people don't like my favorite character for X or Y reason, then I expect them to be able to do the same, but what happened instead ? They made idk how many post to defend My lady Shoujo Kakumei Eddie and people managed to accuse me of misogyny. I swear, those people would have then proceed to try to convice me that I suffer from internalized misogyny the moment I would tell them I am a girl.

And trust me it's very easy to actually debunk their argument that Rafal is literaly Hitler and a bloody monster, I just don't do it because it's not my role to change someone's opinion on Rafal. If they don't understand his character and instead reduce him to one of his facets, their loss. Guy is a complex character who has an actual redemption arc and I can write 1000 of essays about him.

[flareythecat]

The Great Electromagnetic is being written

for now most of me art is on Deviantart(I KNOW. bad ) or Toyhouse (slightlybetter) butt once i cann be fucked i'll revisit that old neocities. :D

Hi! Eddie here, i am 19 he/him and like to draw. HELLO! loveyou ..I decided to make a new introduction and directory for this project because I think i could have made the previous one a lot more readable. this’ll be updated as I post more and new tags come up. i’ll try my best to keep it as clean and understandable as possible!

character directory

#eddie #irvine #sadie #carrie #guy #needlegirl #marco #rodger #morgan #cook #levythan #beefs #willis #stuart #diavlo #marcohuman #rodgerhuman #turky

chapter directory

#chapter 2 #chapter 3

miscellaneous shitttttttttttttttttt=D

#eddietune <-songs i make usually and only so far on beepbox.

main comic tag

#the great electromagnetic

treat this page like a collection of concept art or something. my character designs are forever evolving and my (posted) writing details mostly moments out of context. (i assure you, there is context- it’s just writing it like this isn’t the best medium for it.) in the future i plan to do something even bigger with this story… for now i write… giggles uncontrollably like a fucker being tickled with a feather

#blog intro #comics #writing #animation #HIIIIIIIII #peace #andloveonplanetearth #communism

[canongf]

OK ADDING ON TO MIGUEL HE HAS SO MUCH BEEF WITH A 15 Y/O ITS UNREAL it makes sense in the plot but I love him he’s just a little traumatized but it’s ok I can fix him <3 anyways I finally remembered what I wanted to mini vent about (not so much advice actually 🙇🏻) and that is I’m trying to get art of him x me because I cannot draw at all and I see the artists with artstyles I wanna order from saying they don’t draw muscular charas and I’m like ok there goes my dreams and it’s PAIN🥲 -🌃anon

what's a fictional man without a little trauma!!! am i right!!!

you can fix him, i have no doubts. it's also sooo funny to me that he has beef with a 15 year old but you know what!!! i'm sure he has his reasons!!! me and eddie are around 15 year olds a bunch, we know what it can be like. we get it.

i'm so sorry that you have had no luck with your art search!!! it can be. a process. to find the perfect artist match but!!! i know they are out there for you!!! i am sending you luck and i am hoping you find them soon so you can get the art of your DREAMS!!! 🖤

#HANG IN THERE #YOU'LL FIND THEM #also this is not a diss to our 15 year old friends #me and eddie love them very much #we just like messing with them <3 #ask liv #🌃 anon #other ships #character - miguel o'hara

[eddieschains]

i had a weird ass dream and i didn't know who else to tell it to but then i remembered harry was in it and knew i had to tell you.

at first i was with robin, steve and eddie and we were at a supermarket taking things for the upside down battle but robin and steve kept taking food instead and eddie and i were so confused that bc we're about to face the apocalypse and they're fighting over food then eddie bought cigarettes and left and i followed him and lit his for him and asked him for one but he said no bc it's bad for me and i was like "ok then watch this" and pulled A LOAF OF BREAD from my pocket and started smoking it and he laughed for the first time and i was like fuck yeah mission accomplished i made him laugh! but then the dream took a weird turn and i was with camila cabello and she was showing me baby dinosaurs corpses that she discovered but they were fake but i didn't have the heart to tell her it's fake so i just said dinosaurs have been through so much let's leave them alone then eddie came RUNNING with my phone telling me to check out the beef between harry styles and britney spears on instagram and i was like wtf we're in the 80's why is eddie munson holding an iphone 8 and how is harry alive he's not even born yet and how does eddie even know what BEEF means?? but anyway i took the phone and saw that harry is releasing a new album called "about time" and he's laying naked on a couch on the cover. i'm talking DICK AND BALLS naked and britney was mad bc she's saying that he copied her new album cover and saying he should apologized to her then i asked eddie which album cover he liked better and he said harry's bc... big dick.

CHERRY I AM CRYING CHOKING SCREAMING CACKLING

WHAT THE FUCK DID U SMOKE BEFORE BED TO HAVE A DREAM LIKE THIS 😭😭😭

like why was camila cabello there?? and harry and britney having beef?? the most random duo ever but also… i kinda wanna see that happen

and let’s not skip over the fact that not only did you have an entire LOAF of bread in your pocket but you pulled it out and… smoked it 😭😭

#angel answers #cherry 🤍 #gonna read this whenever i get upset today #thank u 😭😭

[strangelykorryn]

I cooked for my boyfriend and step daughter today, but made myself something else and was so surprised I actually didn’t eat what I cooked for them.

Made them fancy French dips with fresh sliced beef, au jus, and provolone. Melted the cheese/toasted the bread in the broiler and warmed the meat in the au jus. Gave them Mac n cheese on the side.

I ate sautéed mushrooms and a very small avocado (my favorite lately). Oh and an orange later on. After fasting (other than like 3 tiny pieces of food at work but I’m not counting it because I do not feel like a glutton for punishment tonight)for just under 24 hours.

I’m not big in real person standards, but I can already see a change after of few days of hopping on the restriction bus. No bloat, much less tummy, and just feeling much better though I am so far from where I hope to be in a week or two.

My boyfriend got me a bunch of books today and it was so so sweet and thoughtful. I am almost done with “Water for Elephants”, and so far I can feel it building to a horrifyingly sad end, but it is masterful. I am a huge Twilight nerd since back in the days when the books came out and in my head I keep seeing Eddie Boi as Jacob Jankowski the main character since he starred in the movie. I am not mad at this and will continue to picture him this way :)

My page isn’t really geared towards books but with my book challenge I am doing I think I might try to compile a master post of all the books I’ve completed so far this year, and hopefully some sort of short review on the off chance anyone else sucked into my preferred side of tumblr like books too. Trying to will a bookish friend into my inbox, so I have someone to gush over books with eventually.

I’m off work tomorrow and I think I’m gonna take a long walk in the woods with my darling pittie mix Mu-Moo. She loves to see squirrels dart on the paths, and there’s a picturesque dock midway through the trail that I love to walk down and look at the water and sky. Maybe tranquility will catch up with me there while I try to walk off some fat and calories.

Ps I’m telepathically sending all of you thoughts of encouragement on your journey wether you suffer ongoingly or are in recovery. May the world take you (and your body) in the way you desire.

Xo, K.B.

#anamia #not ana just using tags #weightloss #skinny #skinnytumbler #ana stuff #tw ana relapse #tw ana shit #anarec1a