#Steve’s cooking

[hello-sweetheart]

The Cat’ Meow pt. 1

After a brutal fallout with his not-quite-boyfriend, Steve’s childhood cat goes missing and he’s left in frantic distraught. Unbeknownst to him, Tam-Tam finds his way into the home of a certain chaotic witch.

“There is no us; there will never be an us. Don’t you understand that?”

Steve’s voice “You're right, I don’t understand. Why don’t you let yourself be happy, for fuck’s sake. Is it really that difficult for you not to be a fucking asshole? You’re an empath, why are you doing this—hurting people? What do you even get from it?”

“I do it because I feel everything and I love it when they hurt. When they feel like shit, humiliated… When they feel like dying. Misery company, baby, and I refuse to the only miserable son of bitch in this american-pie ass town.”

“Billy, wait—“

“Don’t fucking touch me, Steve! And don’t, don’t fucking pity me. I don’t want that, don’t need you to treat me like some hurt fucking mutt for you to nurse back to health.”

“Let me help you, please. This isn’t any way to live. I see you, okay. The life you deserve isn’t this life of-of rotting, letting everything fester like an infection—Billy, it’ll kill you.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Billy, breathing in deeply besides his neck. The cologne he was wearing, the gift Steve gave him for his birthday, a warm scent of amber in nose. For a moment, only just, Billy softened before becoming the stone wall he always resorted himself to be.

“You can’t keeping going like this. Just… Let me help you.”

“That’s not your fucking place,” Billy smirked and flicked Steve’s bottom lip with his tongue, “I tolerated you better when all you did was lay your back and beg for it.”

“You know what? Fuck. You. Go ahead and stay miserable for all I care, but don’t drag me down with you.”

Billy stumbled as Steve pushed him back. “Get out of my house.” In a moment of weakness, regret ached in his heart before he snubbed it out, watching Steve’s quick steps retreat up the stairs followed by a slamming door that resounded throughout the house.

This isn’t the life he’s meant to have. Settle down long enough to put down roots. To be wanted— Loved? How long until Steve found someone better? To have it fade or torn away from him right when he began to let himself hope? Billy would never be able to survive that again.

So he steeled himself turning to the door and opening it just a creek before a flash of white bolted for the opening. Instinctively, he blocked it with his boot and the sentient mop protested up at him with a yowl.

Tam-Tam was Steve’s elderly cat who, despite living a life of pamper luxury, insisted on trying to make a jail break at any given opportunity.

Billy looked down at the white cat, its tails swooshing side to side in irritation.

Steve would probably spend a few days seething but would eventually try to seek him out again. That hero complex of his that made him see Billy like a bird with an injured wing.

And like a weak man, Billy would soften under his whispered promises. Could feel his warm touch already, the persistent nonchalance of his that made Billy want to spill his guts about every grievance like some poor simmer at confession.

Billy was not his to save.

He clenched his fist and bent down to remove its collar. With a deep breath he let the door swing wide open. The stupid cat was out like a bolt of light disappearing between the homes.

He left the collar on the door knob, not bothering close the door, and began his walk to the Camaro.

Steve loved that fucking cat, he’d never fucking forgive him. And that’s exactly what Billy wanted: to be left the fuck alone. To prove that some people are beyond repair. Save your breath, there is no ‘fixing’ me.

Starting the car he chanced a glance down the street. The cat was no where to be seen.

This is what he wants, he told himself with a deep breath. The sound of the engine rumbling to life was deafening loud in the still night.

Come morning, that damn cat will have likely been picked off by a coyote.

Jesus fuck, he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms, he needs a cigarette.

——

The house was a cold tomb in morning.

Steve slipped on a sweater, a baby blue knit, and rubbed his arms as he descended the stairs in socked feet, slowing at the landing.

The door was wide open to a deceptively beautiful morning. On the knob was a brilliant red collar, the pendant gleaming as it caught the soft sunlight.

Billy wouldn’t, he couldn’t have … could he?

His heart, he didn’t think it was still beating.

His hands, they shook as he released the banister.

“Tam-Tam?”

He called out, but he knew.

He knew Tam-Tam was long gone.

But Steve felt like he was the one that was lost.

———

Across town, in a small clearing in the woods by the trailer park, Eddie puffed on his blunt. His notebook laid open in the dirt with a half finished song that was giving him trouble, hoping that a bit of Mary Jane would help it along.

Close by a bush rustled with a pathetic yowl, catching his attention enough to snuff the remainder of his blunt.

Creeping closer, he approached cautiously.

Stray poofs of white had remained caught in the branches and underneath a stark white cloud peered at him with intense suspicion.

“Hey, kitty. Got yourself into some trouble, huh? Come here, sweetheart.”

In his knees, bit of rocks digging into his skin from the hole in his jeans, he bent down to get a closer look.

Eddie tried clicking noises, baby talk, kisses, and the good old ‘pstpstpst’.

In the end, a last ditch effort of Eddie trying to mimic the mewling of a kitten is what made the cat creep out from the bush and give his extended hand a inspective sniff before deciding to crawl right in his lap.

[myfandomprompts]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON 2 OUTFITS

[runraerun]

Hopper: Are any of you straight?

Will:

Robin:

Max:

Steve:

Steve: [Raises hand slowly]

Eddie: [Grabs Steve's hand, interlocks their fingers, and brings it back down]

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

THE CAST OF ‘HOUSE OF THE DRAGON’ REACTING TO HELAEMOND'S THEORIES

AEMOND is the father of helaena's kids.

PHIA: ‘how do you feel about that?’

TOM: ‘it pisses me off, actually. i'm so protective over my children. that would be so sad for aegon. he loves them so much.’

[cressidascowper]

OLIVIA COOKE & EMMA D'ARCY for MTV Movies

[eviesqueezie]

steve randle died on a tuesday, his father’s fist red with his blood. he died in a house he never belonged in, with a man he wished he could hate.

sodapop curtis cried for the whole tuesday, wednesday. then on thursday he was silent, friday he punched darry in the chest over and over to stop the aching in his lungs. saturday he screamed and threw all the plates in the cupboard on the floor, sunday he hugged ponyboy so tight he couldn’t breathe.

it was like life pressed fast forward, until the day of the funeral. on the day of the funeral sodapop curtis drank half a bottle of vodka and chugged as many beers as he could before he threw up. on the day of the funeral he bought as much candy as he could with the pitiful amount he had in his wallet and ate until his sugar crash finally hit. anything to stop that pain in his bones that dragged throughout his body on repeat.

at the funeral he sobbed, fixing steve’s hair the way he would’ve wanted, slipping a dime into his pocket and placing his hand over his heart. he still had a black eye and a busted up lip from his dad, but that’s what made it all the more real.

steve randle died on a tuesday in june, his car sat out in the lot until a thursday in december. it was wrecked by then, mouldy and missing parts- stolen by thieves and starving children. the classic story of the east side.

he died on a tuesday morning and was found dead in the afternoon, bled out over the carpet. staining it for life, the thick smell of pennies filling the air for the rest of eternity.

[daenysthedreamer101]

The Iron Throne is the most dangerous seat in the Realm

masterlist

[stanpinesfan0410]

hello. wings of fart inanimate insanity dump. I shall bring more soon. goodbye 🤑

[hotluncheddie]

‘No.’ eddie says, standing from the table and puffing his chest out. Clenching one fist and holding the other up like a freaky Halloween version of a traffic warden. He brings the outstretched hand to his chest, closing his eyes for a moment. ‘Allow me.’

Steve stares at him. Stack of plates in hand, half up from the table and confused. ‘Uh’ he manages before Eddie steps over and takes the plates from Steve, their fingers brushing as eddie squishes his thumb into a leftover dollop of sauce and grips them tightly. He then hip checks Steve back into his chair and waltzes over to the sink.

‘Munson’s on dish duty I guess.’ Robin says, smirking at Steve and finishing her soda.

Steve schools his slack jaw expression, closing his mouth and going to stand again. ‘Eddie, it’s fine, really.’ But Eddie’s sudden outstretched palm stops him, has him sinking back down onto the dining room chair.

‘Stevie, please.’ Eddie says from the sink, eyes closed and head bowed. ‘You cooked, therefore, as your humble knight, I will conquer the dishes.’ And he brings his hand back to his heart again, looking up at the ceiling with reverence and verve. Side on from the table and Steve thinks he looks like a painting he saw at a Chicago art gallery Robin dragged him to. Heavenly in his light and shadows, cut from glass, shrouded in sun rays and glowing with a quiet, broken sort of intensity.

Steve clears his throat. Feels a blush run up his neck and he readjusts the legs of his jeans. Scooting his chair so he’s sitting back flush against the dining room table; he avoids Robin’s eye. ‘If you like.’ He rasps, fiddling with his used napkin, tearing off a corner and letting it flutter onto the tabletop.

Eddie does like. He turns the tap on, pouring dish soap into the filling basin before pulling Steve’s Marigolds on slowly, one at a time, as if he really is a knight - gearing up for battle.

‘Love the new look.’ Robin heckles and Eddie flashed her a grin before going back to serious; pulling at the gloves one last time and tuning the tap off with a flourish. Then he stalks back over to the table, Legs long and striding, arms bowed slightly from his body with adrenaline filled tension.

He steps up to the side of Steve’s chair, looming over him, tilting Steve’s head up slowly with one bright yellow, slightly damp finger under his chin. ‘Rest now, my leige.’ He murmurs lowly, reverently, gazing down at him before dipping to place a slow, soft kiss on Steve’s lips.

A embarrassing, needy, wounded sort of sound, whine, extracts its self from Steve’s throat. Chest heaving and throat bobbing as Eddie smiles at him softly, stepping away again to scoop up the remaining glasses and utensils in his capable, rubbery, hands.

‘…Your boyfriend is weird dude.’ Robin says from across him, eyeshrows raised and the corners of her mouth dropped in pinched distaste. Her eyes dancing with glee.

‘Yeah.’ Steve breaths, voice reedy and he blinks a few times, his fingers feeling tingly and numb, all of him syrupy and slow moving. His boyfriend is a freak.

And Steve has never once felt so loved.

(Tag list (open): @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @scoops-aboy86 @tangerinesteve @marvel-ous-m

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots )

[melonalemonade]

@steddie-week day 5: “established relationship“ 🏡🐕

[faerieriddle]

Eddie finding out that Steve is Italian-American and asking him to speak Italian. Unfortunately Steve only knows the Italian he learned from his Grandmother while cooking with her when he was little. Steve’s lack of knowledge doesn’t seem to matter much because Eddie’s face turns a blotchy red when Steve starts reciting his Grandmother’s bolognese recipe.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Mama Munson cannot cook.

She cannot bake.

She can barely make a grilled cheese without burning it.

But Wayne can cook.

He can bake.

He makes grilled cheese with tomatoes and garlic butter.

Eddie is raised with Wayne’s superior cooking and baking skills, and until he’s a teenager and goes to other friend’s houses, thinks that the “men of the family” are responsible for cooking and baking.

Wayne’s gotten aprons, and cooking utensils, and baking pans for Christmas and his birthday as long as Eddie’s lived with him.

Up until he’s too old according to his friends, he helps him in the kitchen.

Mama Munson watches the shift, but her and Wayne agree not to push.

They watch his diet do what most teenage boy diets do: turn to cereal and sandwiches at all hours of the day and night, some pizza sprinkled in when money allows.

Wayne still cooks, but his shifts turn into overtime hours, and then doubles, and he spends most of his time at home sleeping.

Eddie doesn’t seem to care, or at least not visibly.

His lunchbox is never stuffed with any food anyway, his mama isn’t dumb enough to not notice what he’s doing after school two or three days a week.

And then she almost loses him because the town turns upside down, almost literally, and everyone shuns them even more than they already did.

Not Steve Harrington, though.

He shows up every day after his volunteer shift with a grocery bag or two of fresh produce and jars and boxes and gets busy cooking. Nothing is ever that lavish, but there’s always a pop of flavors coming through even in the most simple dish.

She pretends she doesn’t see the way Eddie’s eyes widen after the first bite of whatever dish Steve’s made, reminiscent of when Wayne used to be able to cook for them almost every night. She pretends not to see the way Steve watches, waits for Eddie to show he likes it, relaxing into his chair and taking his own bite only after Eddie takes a second one.

She looks at Wayne, who’s pretending the same thing, but not hiding it well behind a knowing smirk.

Eddie starts spending more time in the kitchen with Steve, helping cut up vegetables and stirring as they talk, like he did with Wayne when he was younger.

Wayne goes back to work, but Steve always has a lunch packed for him with the leftovers so he doesn’t feel completely left out, blushes when Wayne hugs him on his way out the door. Eddie watches with a fond smile, and Mama Munson doesn’t say anything even though she should.

She’s seen what happens to boys who like straight boys firsthand, can’t be completely certain Steve’s a safe bet yet, even with the looks he throws and the care he gives. She thinks maybe he’s just a nice kid who loves his people.

But she wakes up one morning to whispering in the kitchen, and she knows Wayne isn’t home yet from his shift, so it has to be Eddie and someone else.

She sneaks out of her bedroom to see Eddie sitting on the counter, sweatpants on without a shirt, and Steve standing between his legs, cupping his face in his hands.

She’s certain that Steve left last night after she went to bed, she heard the front door open and close. But she looks closer and sees Steve’s wearing one of Eddie’s band shirts and the Christmas flannel pants Eddie got last year in his stocking.

So Steve didn’t leave, maybe wouldn’t leave ever if she was reading their faces right.

She decided not to interrupt them, sneaking back into her room and getting ready for work.

There’d be plenty of time for her to question Eddie about it, about Steve, about his feelings and if he was happy.

When she did finally go out to the kitchen, Steve was frying bacon and flipping an omelet in a pan while Eddie was sipping on a cup of coffee.

She kissed the top of Eddie’s head, then pulled Steve down to her level so she could kiss the top of his.

“Guess it’s about time we try your breakfast since you’ve been spoilin’ us with dinner for so long.”

Steve and Eddie’s matching red faces told her everything she needed to know.

[fantasynmicrochips]

Well, it's technically tomorrow for me so why not

Curtis Gang Valentine's Day HCs 💗

Darry makes Pony and Soda a special breakfast of strawberry pancakes. Their momma made them every year and he couldn't not

Darry doesn't go out for Valentine's Day normally, but on the rare chance he does happen to get a date, you can BET the rest of the gang will not shut up about it

Johnny's favorite holiday!! He doesn't care about the dating stuff, just the fact that there's a holiday focused on love touches his love-starved heart

He also loves all the strawberry/cherry candy that comes out at this time of year. Dallas and Two-Bit always make sure to steal him some

Soda really likes Valentine's Day as well, because to him it feels like the one day where everyone's happy!! No drama, no fighting, just focusing on the folks you care about

Two loves getting to steal the fancy candies and flowers to give to Marcia (MARBIT SWEEP)

He also loves going around and asking random socs if they'll be his valentine just to piss them off

Steve saves up money to take Soda to do something nice for Valentine's Day, usually to a stable so they can horse ride together

(Darry gives Steve some money for it too, just as long as he gets Soda home before 10)

Dallas spends his entire Valentine's Day being a "where my hug at" guy to EVERY chick at Buck's (he gets smacked silly)

Pony misses giving out valentines like how they did in elementary school, so Soda made one for each of the gang and made them give them to Pony to make him smile. He knows Soda made them because of the chicken scratch handwriting, but it's the thought that counts

Mrs. Curtis used to keep a journal of pressed flowers that her husband gave her every Valentine's Day they were together. The Curtis bros started adding to it after they passed to keep the tradition going

[myfandomprompts]

The cast of HOUSE OF THE DRAGON arriving at the Paris Premiere (in order of arrival)

Source: me

[soupinaboot]

Fuck it. Every Steve Harrington headcannon I have because I've been rotating that boy in my head like a pig on a stick

- Has had glasses since he was young but mostly wore contacts throughout high school due to being bullied in middle school for looking like a nerd

- Plays the piano or the violin, your pick

- In addition to the piano, he mostly plays jazz cause thats my favorite genre and I think it would be his too

- Has ALWAYS had horrible migraines but have since been a lot more difficult to deal with due to you know all that other shit that's been going on

- Does not know popular culture, I know it's very popular within the fandom that he only listences to what's on the radio or watchs only the recent released movies but that boy could barely name a single movie he does NOT know popular shit (this also goes with my jazz headcannon that he mostly just listenes to jazz in the car or at home)

- Surprisingly amazing at chess, no one in the party has managed to beat him

- Horror fan(books,shows,movies,etc)

- His best subject in school was math and I will die on this hill

- Between him and Eddie, he is the black cat

- Bisexual obviously, but a really do like the headcanon that he kinda knew he liked boys when he was younger and doesn't need Robin or Eddie to tell him(he was the one telling Robin that Vickie could like both just saying)

- Also asexual maybe

- Can cook

- SMOKER!!! He smokes in the first season, and in the third he makes a reference to smoking marijuana, he is NOT new to this

- Has really bad bedhead

- I can see him as having some form of OCD or ADHD

I'm forgetting most so be prepared for a part 2

Part 2

[daenysthedreamer101]

The cast of HOTD during the promotion for S2

masterlist