stevesgother

[stevesgother]

does anyone have any good steddie x reader recs where it's kinda like "i want two boyfriends and i want my boyfriends to be boyfriends"??

[stevesgother]

posted this on my personal acct originally but i feel like y'all would really like it hehe

eddie munson post bat bites and vampiric resurrection

[stevesgother]

my gossip accounts are never that serious or worth bitching me out on your blog when you couldve just tagged me directly instead of being a sly bitch about it.

you being butt hurt over them makes you look unhinged. nothing is that serious. its literal gossip. no one is acting like they know joe its all literal opinions and bullshit.

you’re clearly very parasocial if it bothers you.

okay so this? is exactly what i'm talking about.

i'm not entertaining this on my writing blog again after this. you accusing joe, or ANYONE for that matter, of sleeping with minors and younger women, spreading what i would consider to be harmful rumors with no merit, is parasocial and inappropriate. posting a deuxmoi DM to have a little teehee about what joe's like as a kisser or in bed is lighthearted, unserious gossip-- what you're doing is not.

you are over thirty years old. please find employment and do not contact me again.

[stevesgother]

I’m so sorry, where are my manners, please :)

idk which anon this is but it's okay! manners are mostly optional here lol

[stevesgother]

Pretty please give us another dad!steve blurb🙏🙏

i've been wanting to write this scenario for a while :) dad!steve harrington x pregnant!fem!reader

before and after series

The constant nausea finally started to wane once you hit your second trimester, replaced by intense and occasionally bizarre cravings for foods you'd never liked before you were pregnant.

One food in question being tomatoes.

Growing up as a kid and even into adulthood, you hated tomatoes. Even hated anything with the essence of a tomato. Ketchup, tomato pasta sauce, pizza sauce.

So, imagine your disbelief when you wake up one day a few weeks ago, hankering for a fucking tomato.

Now, Steve-- Steve loves tomatoes. He has the opposite problem; eats those wretched fruits on everything, which means they're always in the house.

That morning, sat on the rocking chairs beneath the tree with Steve's coffee and your decaf tea, you ate an entire tomato; Steve looking on in quiet horror.

"Are you feeling alright?" He'd asked, mostly in jest, as he placed the back of his hand to your forehead.

"I'm fine, idiot," you'd laughed, "baby likes tomatoes, I guess. Like you." You grin, poking his chest fondly.

Since then, an entire produce bag of ripe tomatoes has been a staple in your weekly grocery trips, which is what you're returning home from now.

You call for Steve, expecting him to either be tidying the house like he was when you left him or maybe sprawled in front of the television, tired and sweaty from the lack of central air conditioning in your modest home.

But no. He's not anywhere in the house that you can ascertain.

Setting the grocery bags on the floor, you decide to try the backyard:

"Steve?" You call from the patio.

"Baby!" A dirt-covered Steve in his good cargo pants exclaims, meeting your gaze from a patch of freshly tilled soil that certainly wasn't there when you left the house earlier.

"Whatcha up to?" You as casually, but even you can hear the skepticism laced in your voice. Steve's never gardened a day in his whole life; and you've known him his whole life.

"Making you a garden," he says nonchalantly as he continues his digging and planting, "fresh tomatoes are just better than the store-bought ones. Everyone knows that."

"You're..." you trail off, a little disbelieving, "making me a garden?"

"Yes?"

"When did you even...?"

"Your mom had some stuff in her shed," Steve clarifies, reading your thoughts in that stupid charming way he always does, "I called her while you were out. Did you decide yet what you want for dinner?"

You swallow around the awe long enough to answer him, "I was thinking maybe some...grilled chicken salads?"

"If that's what you want, baby." Steve smiles up at you from the ground, like you've hung the moon in the sky for him personally before continuing, "Too bad we can't use any of the tomatoes from the garden. They won't be ripe for a while."

"Yeah, that's-- that's too bad." You murmur, staring.

Steve looks concerned finally, stands up from the dirt, "Hey, you feeling okay?" He asks, shucking off his dirty gloves so he doesn't get you messy.

"Yeah," you grin, "yeah, I'm good. Great. I just can't believe you-- built me an entire garden."

"Well, you better believe it," he says, kissing you on both cheeks and then your forehead, "Ain't nothin' but a thing, sweetheart."

Steve slides by you with a warm hand on your waist, "Wanna start dinner now?" He asks, opening the patio door, "I'm starving."

[stevesgother]

had an extremely vivid and detailed dream that i had a baby last night, so guess what y'all are getting today

[stevesgother]

y'all have me giggling and smiling at my laptop like a fucking loser whenever i read your comments

[stevesgother]

my boss just took a vacation in bermuda and unfortunately, he came back.

[stevesgother]

IS THAT THE CHILD WHO'S AFRAID IN YOU?! STOP, IS THAT YOU?!

Egg might not only be my favorite song on The Crux, but my favorite Djo song period. the line, 'Is that you? Is that the child who's afraid in you? Stop, is that you?' might be some of the most heart-wrenching, relatable lyrics he's written. maybe they just resonate that deeply with me, but i feel like his angst radiates through the song and it lends itself so much to the emotional impact of the track.

i could talk about this album and this man forever.

[stevesgother]

having a pair of glasses sitting on my face constantly turns me into the equivalent of an irate chimp but i literally cannot see without them

[stevesgother]

i can def cook something up for you queen but i'd also love to see your take on it as well!!

unfortunately i'm thinking a lot about steve who has this thing where he can literally only finish if the person he's fucking tells him that they love him because he needs the intimacy to get off which is why you're now telling this really charming stranger you just met tonight on tinder that you love him while he's positively pounding you into your mattress and you don't even mind

[stevesgother]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMAepHYaK/

this is so dad steve coded icb 😭😭😭

YES i truly feel like that man would let his baby do anything she wanted to him so long as she wasn't harming herself LMAO

[stevesgother]

dad steve has 100% done the ‘you get in the car i’ll get the baby’ and then gets in the car without the baby and is confused as to why youre looking at him weird. then he gets dad guilt.

he would totally do this like, right after libby is born and he's just so tired but he know's you must be exhausted and he just wants to help UGH dad!steve harrington x mom!fem!reader

before and after series

"Where's her, um--" you snap your fingers, simply trying to grasp the word you're thinking of, "her swaddle-thingy that she likes?"

"I had to wash it last night after she puked on it." Steve replies, voice groggy.

"Right, that's right..." You mutter to yourself, heading for the tiny room you'd managed to shove your washer and dryer into years ago.

The day for your newborns first checkup couldn't have come on a worse day. You're actually not even positive what day of the week it is right now.

Libby's a colicky baby, you'd noticed it from the moment you brought her home four weeks ago, almost to the day. You and Steve take turns with her all night, resulting in the two of you getting maybe a combined four hours of sleep in total. You had to admit, it was starting to wear on you. A lot.

"Don't worry about it, honey," Steve calls you back from the kitchen, "Why don't you just go put the diaper bag in the car and start it? Make sure it's warm for her."

You know he's only offering as an excuse to give you a mere ten minutes of peace and quiet, even if he doesn't say it in layman's terms. He knows you'll refuse it that way; always needing to be doing something, to be helping.

"Alright," you concede, "love you." A peck on the cheek and you're starting up your old shitbox of a car that doesn't even run well in the cold anyway. It would take this thing at least an hour before it was even remotely warm.

Inside, Steve dresses Libby in her favorite swaddling blanket, the double-sided plush one with the yellow ducks, and places her snug in her car seat. She fusses and wriggles, like she always seems to.

"S'okay, sweetheart," Steve all but pleads. He doesn't know who he's trying to convince: Libby or himself. He runs a mental checklist of everything he needs to bring to the appointment, and only heads to the car once he's satisfied he as everything.

He settles into the driver's seat only to be met with a furrow between your eyebrows.

"What?" He asks, checking his surroundings as if he's missed something.

"Steve."

He widens his eyes in question, very nearly annoyed but not quite, "Yes?"

"What are you missing." You press.

Steve's tired. Steve's so tired, and he's at a loss. He loves you, god, he loves you-- but he's nearly at his wit's end.

"Baby, for Christ's sake, can you just tell--" He freezes. "The baby."

"The baby." You repeat, nodding solemnly as not to laugh at him

Steve nearly eats shit with the haste in which he exits the car, and then again when he runs to the front door; playing roulette with the sheen of ice on the driveway that the salt hadn't managed to melt.

He's walking comically slow, however, when he returns with Libby in tow. Steve places her car seat into the holster and doesn't close the door until he's sure it's clicked in and won't move during the drive.

Steve looks positively dejected once he resumes his place behind the steering wheel. You're barely stifling giggles.

"Why are you laughing?" Steve asks, incredulous.

"Because it's funny?"

"It's not funny!" He exclaims as loudly as possible without waking the baby, which isn't very, "I'm an awful father."

Your laughing ceases almost instantaneously, "Hey. You are not an awful father, Steve."

He rests his head against the steering wheel, sighs harshly, "I am! I left her-- I can't believe I left her in there!"

"Steve, listen to me. You're tired. I'm tired. I just as easily could've done the same." You tell him, firm but not unkind, squeezing his hand in yours.

"But you didn't, I did."

"And nothing happened! Probably didn't even notice you were gone." Steve huffs a wet laugh. "This doesn't reflect your ability as a parent. You're a great dad, Stevie."

"You're a great mom," he rolls his head to look at you, eyes a little wet.

"Thank you, baby," you reply, petting a hand through his unusually disheveled hair. "Libby's doctor won't think so if we're late to this appointment, though."

Steve shifts the car into gear, mutters incoherently to himself yeah, well I'll give her a piece of my mind... as he reverses down the driveway.

[stevesgother]

hi!!! how are you doing ??? can we have some angst with mama reader and dad steve plz... it's okay if not i'm just doing so bad and i love reading your fics

of course! i love a little angst, and i'm so sorry to hear you're doing bad :(( i hope my silly little stories can bring you even a little bit of comfort

is there anything in particular you'd like to see? or dealer's choice?

[stevesgother]

what if... hear me out... steve and reader as summer camp counsellors........

i'm currently working on a steddie summer camp au (haven't updated it in ages bc i've hit a road block) but i'd def be open to writing an x reader one in the future!!

[stevesgother]

what if i told y'all i've been reading the ever loving fuck out of d/s dynamic steddie fics and i have thoughts

[stevesgother]

this is soooo steve oh my fucking gooooood

living with steve is finding hair EVERYWHERE.

shower? black curly hairs everywhere. the tiles, the floor, even stuck in the towels?!

bed? hair from his head and his body littered across your white sheets.

that man moults like a dog but you wouldnt have him any other way.