#fic: tuesday's gone with the wind

[thisapplepielife]

Submitted for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Funko Corroded Coffin

Day #26 - Tour Date A diorama of a tour date for the Funko Pop versions of Corroded Coffin.

Info: We haven't had many "other" entries for CCF, so I decided to snap some pictures of my little custom Corroded Coffin display for fun, just to add something different to the event.

Road Manager Steve has his red milk crate to stand on, and is carrying a bag of cash. Gareth's drum set is a real Funko one, I just added the Corroded Coffin logo to it. (It's definitely Tuesday's-coded by including Di and the red milk crates.)

As for the figures themselves, Eddie is the only standard-issue Funko. Gareth, Goodie & Jeff were all custom ordered to be painted like themselves from S4. And I made Steve and Di myself by doing some head-swapping, lol.

And, yes, I felt like I was playing Barbies moving them all around to take pictures, haha.

[thisapplepielife]

This is absolutely gorgeous! ❤️

And I cannot thank @steddieas-shegoes enough for commissioning this amazing gift to celebrate these characters that I love so much. Thank you for loving Tuesday's as much as I do. 🥹

And just look at Road Manager Steve on his milk crate with Eddie loving on him!! 😍🥰💖

These characters mean the world to me, and it's awesome to see them brought to life here. ❤️

I 1 MILLION PERCENT FORGOT TO POST THIS COMMISSION I DID A MONTH-ISH AGO FOR @steddieas-shegoes AS A GIFT FOR THE AUTHOR ( @thisapplepielife ) OF A FIC: Tuesday’s Gone With the Wind

[swifterthings]

don’t read the soulmates fic by helix_stomper, don’t do it don’t do it DONT DO IT

[thisapplepielife]

Oh, thank you so much for taking the time to rec Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. 🥹

It thrills me beyond words. That fic is so special to me, and whenever I get to hear that someone else enjoyed it (even if it fucked you up, lol, sorry about that!) it really makes me very happy to know someone else connected with it.

I loved writing it.

And I still think about those versions of the characters, and often. I miss them.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. ❤️

THEME: Steddie Fics that fucked me up (so you should read them too)

There Are No Incurable Ills by indigofudge (ao3)

T | wc 28,486 | cw depictions of wounds/blood, illnesses, infections, sepsis

Summary: /Eddie blinks rapidly. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes. His chest heaves in panting breaths. “Dustin,” he says, jagged as it leaves his mouth.

“Dustin’s safe.” Steve’s thumb swipes at his cheek, brushing away the tears as they start to fall. “You did what I explicitly told you not to do, but he’s safe.”

Eddie just stares, shiny eyes searching Steve’s face with pupils blown wide. Then he breaks out into a soft grin. It’s tender, almost shy.

Fuzzy static pinches at Steve’s chest. He swallows distractedly, unable to pull his gaze away from Eddie’s. “Just let me- let me finish patching you up, okay?” /

OR

Steve secretly harbors Eddie in his house while Eddie recovers. Unfortunately, battling blood poisoning and sepsis without antibiotics is not as easy as it seems - which is, granted, not that easy. And Steve, in the proper Harrington spirit, has decided to shoulder this burden all by himself.

Honestly I think this is one of the first Steddie fics I ever read and I still think about it.

Post season 4, Dustin begs Steve to go and get Eddie’s body. Steve wants to say no, not wanting to go back to the Upside Down, but if it makes Dustin feel better, he’ll do it. By Lady Luck herself, Steve finds Eddie — alive but barely breathing. He knows he can’t take him to the hospital, so he takes him to his house where he attempts to nurse Eddie back to health. Steve does his best to take care of Eddie while lying low from the law, Eddie’s still a wanted man.

But is the antibiotics he’s giving eddie good enough to heal Eddie back to health?

Hands Where I Can See Them by Solarmorrigan (ao3) @solarmorrigan (tumblr)

T | wc 29,177 | no cw

Summary: Eddie thinks that he and Steve have a good thing going; being friends with benefits is honestly a pretty sweet deal. Steve is a great friend, the sex is great, everything is great. Except for the fact that Steve hadn't realized they were only friends with benefits

Except for the fact that Steve thought they were in a relationship

Except for the fact that Eddie doesn't realize how much he'd valued that relationship until it's gone (and he's trying his damnedest to get it back)

When I say crying, screaming, throwing up, I mean it. This fic hurts so fucking good 😭 Miscommunication to the fucking T. When this was being posted on tumblr in parts I almost couldn’t read it because of how much my heart ached. Eddie Munson is a fucking dumbass and he better be kissing the ground Steve walks on.

Of Space and Time by Appledagger (Ao3) @appledaggerst (tumblr)

M | wc 56,372 | cw MCD, drinking to cope

Summary: In 2073, the world is still moving forward despite arid climates and the quick relay race between man and machine. Within the walls of the hospital center at Vecna Labs, Steve Harrington has just woken up after an accident inside the depths of the classified sections of the lab. Stricken with amnesia, he is brought to Edward Munson’s home to recover and to be observed during his recovery after experimental treatments had brought him back from the brink of death.

In Edward’s home, Steve finds question after question. Why does Eddie seem to hate him so much? What do all the observations have to do with his accident? What exactly is going on with his malfunctioning mind, and what does this all have to do with Creel and Vecna’s tech monopoly? All the while, Steve struggles with the feeling that there was something more to his relationship with Eddie that he can’t quite understand.

What the fuck.

Okay for real, I fucking love this. I don’t read much sci-fi but this is so fucking good, Philip k dick is in shambles. It’s hard not to hate Eddie in the first half of the fic, but slowly you understand why he’s so cold to Steve.

This also got Sleeping Sickness by City and Colour on my Spotify and I fucking cry every time it comes on shuffle. Thanks for that 😭🖤

Tuesday’s Gone With the Wind by thisapplepielife (ao3) @thisapplepielife (tumblr)

E | wc 184,150 | cw drug abuse, airplane crash

Summary: Corroded Coffin's leased plane went down on June 13th, 1995 in the woods of Louisiana.

Ten people on board died.

Eddie Munson survived.

Before he survived, he really lived.

First off: I’m going to be 85 in a nursing home talking about this like it actually happened. My grandchildren will know about this fic and believe that corroded coffin was a real band.

This AU goes back and forth between the present (a documentary) and the past (1989-1990s). It follows Corroded Coffin as they’re doing small Midwest tours and looking for a road manager. Steve Harrington happens to fall into Eddie’s lap, and after much persuasion, Steve joins the crew. As the story goes on, the band grows in popularity and their little crew grows larger and larger.

Please read the author’s note before starting! This fic is dear to me but it aches so much. This is a love story, but it’s so fucking real with real struggles and it’s painful but so is life. I don’t know how many times I’ve cried reading this fic.

The Perfect Loving Nightmare by purpleweekend (ao3)

E | wc 95,344 | cw memory loss, internalized homophobia | spice 🥵🥵🥵

Summary: He laid back first onto their couch, deciding he just needed to sleep it off. He had plenty of time before Eddie would be home. He could take a shower and hide the evidence of his own stupidity when he woke up.

He let his eyes slip closed, head throbbing all the while.

Everything would be fine.

Okay technically this is part 2 of an amnesia series, but somehow I found this one first and read it and cried. I read Living the Unknown Dream afterwards. I don’t think you have to read these in order, I kind of liked reading this one first then going to the second one and going “Oh! That’s what happened!”

By the title of the series, you guessed it, it’s an amnesia fic! Steve hits his head and lays down. When he wakes up, there’s someone in his house, checking on him. Trying to manhandle him off the couch and — oh, there’s blood. Steve wants nothing to do with this stranger, he wants his parents. The stranger, nearly in tears, convinces Steve to go to the hospital. At the hospital, Steve finds out that the stranger is Eddie Munson. His supposed husband.

And the head injury he got is one of many, and with the previous brain damage (that he doesn’t remember receiving), they’re unsure if he will ever get his memories back.

Smut is peppered in between the angst and it’s very good, and very hot. You’ll cry then read smut and cry and read smut and — you get it.

You’re Divine by Oonionchiver (ao3) @azrielgreen (tumblr)

E | wc 259,565 | cw suicidal ideation, read the tags | spice level: 🥵🥵🥵 again, read the tags!! Not gonna be everyone’s cup of tea

Summary: ‘Blood?’ Eddie says again.

Eyes black but for the slice of iridescent white in the centre. His teeth are sharp, his hands are weapons and Steve thinks maybe he’s made a mistake doing this without telling Eddie first. Eddie’s focus lowers, it moves to his left hand which is…

Oh fuck.

It’s dripping blood onto the floor.

‘Shit,’ Steve says, takes a single step back, swallows. ‘Eddie, I’m so sorry, fuck.’

Eddie can’t seem to look away, can’t bring his ethereal gaze back up where it belongs. Steve thinks he should run, he should flee. A tiny part of him knows Eddie will chase him. Eddie will catch him, outrun him easily.

It's more than a little fucked up how that thrills him.

Azriel’s bio on Twitter at one point read “wrote that fic that fucked you up,” and holy fuck they weren’t kidding. I think about this all the time.

After season 4, Eddie’s gone. Or, so they thought. Steve finds Eddie outside his house, covered in the grime of the Upside Down. He seems … off. Wrong. But Steve is more than happy to have him back and will do anything to keep him. Steve comes to terms with Eddie’s other, willing to do anything to keep Eddie here. To keep Eddie with him. Eddie … well, not so much.

There’s a lot of lovely scenes and scenes that I cherish fondly. Then there’s the quarry scene that makes me want to cry my heart out. The smut is not even exempted to the angst, please be warned.

Azriel has a companion fic going on right now with Eddie’s point of view. It won’t make sense unless you read You’re Divine first.

Please remember to leave kudos and comments on the fics you read/enjoyed! Support your writers 🖤

Prev fic rec: my favorite fucking idiots

[sungiescheotluv]

falling dominos ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 3.1k

tags/warnings: angst, fluff, minor swearing, jaemin being the best

summary: after one particularly cruel lesson, you swear off anyone in order to protect your mending heart. in comes jaemin, who's kindness must run out someday, right?

notes: hii there! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა this is my first official post on here! this fic was honestly a very in the moment thing i scraped together, so if this doesn't make sense, i do apologise. it's 3 am here, and i can't be bothered to edit now lmao 😭 also, jeno makes a little cameo in this! (i'm sorry for making you an asshole in this T_T) i'm not totally sure if i'll be posting a lot on this blog, but i did want to contribute just a bit of comfort the dreamies are able to give me <3 thank you! much love! (˶˃⤙˂˶)

The first domino fell a while ago. 

Summer is drawing to a close, the smell of freshly-cut grass and sunscreen gone with the autumn winds. It’s to be expected -  things change, nothing lasts. Like your four years at university, they come and now, they’ve gone. It’s strange, adapting to a world that doesn’t revolve around 9 am lectures, that doesn’t include being within walking distance to your best friends, the always crowded student bars and bustling clubs. It feels like you were losing touch with yourself, a version you’ve bloomed into that’s brought you so many blessings. Friends to cherish, knowledge that takes you everywhere and a partner you’d do life with in a heartbeat.

Meeting Jaemin, like most social interactions, is unexpected. The bar you and your friends is unusually deserted for a Tuesday, disgruntled groans and beer bottles slamming against the bar at the ice hockey game broadcasted across the space. You have some interest in the puck movement, having been dragged weeks ago to the campus ice hockey arena for an exciting game against your university’s rival. The roof was moments from being blown off, the energy and screams so palpable you felt it in your frozen fingertips. You thought (naively so) that your night ended when the buzzer blared, ears ringing to commemorate your team’s 5-2 win. That couldn’t be furthest from the truth, your friends somehow convincing you to join them at a house party. Looking back, you should’ve declined - you had deadlines within the week and exams soon after, the smart choice would’ve been to bury your head in books and gain feeling back in your toes - and yet, there you were, tucked away in a dark corner, speaking in low whispers with a boy who was as troubled as he looked. 

You couldn’t blame yourself, once Jeno - or he who shall not be named - flashed his moon crescent smile and made a joke about no jeans fitting him from all the hockey he played. You were already a few drinks in, more approachable and less wise, so you gave in to your desires, let him put you through the mattress in a way that made your eyes roll and toes curl. Of course, he maintained his nice guy image throughout, checking-in with you every step of the way, cooking you breakfast the next day and kissing you in front of his housemates in a sealed promise on his doorstep. You weren’t the type to get your hopes up about men, because they always found a way to disappoint you, but the glimmer in Jeno’s eyes on his doorstep, holding your hand like he didn’t want to let go, you couldn’t help it. You texted a few times following that night, the rose-tinted glasses fading as time stretched on, him never finding the time of day to text you, much less meet up. You’d even gone the extra mile of watching his favourite pro-league teams’ games, becoming a fan of the game yourself. The nail in the coffin was right after exams, when your friends and you squeezed into a stuffy local bar to celebrate, so close to everyone you could hear whispers between lovers. In a familiar voice, you heard word-for-word what Jeno said to you, only to find him staring down at another with the same look in his eyes he gave you.

How foolish you were. Thinking you were anything more than a notch in his bedpost. And in all his audacity, Jeno catches your eyes, a polite nod sent your way before he reverts back to his other, like you didn’t kiss the breath out of you two weeks beforehand. It took you an embarrassingly long time to recover from the shock, the hurt - the whole Christmas break actually - and when you returned to campus, you vowed your friends only mattered because through your two years together, at least they didn’t disappoint you. Unlike the game playing.

Jeno’s favourite team was up against their fated rivals, a team you’ve switched to support out of spite. Unfortunately for you, they were trailing 3-1, and things were looking bleak. A heavy sigh empties out you, arms bracing yourself against the polished bar as you wait your turn to be serviced.

“Sounds like you’ve got the world’s weight on your shoulders.”

You cast the source a sidelong glance, an air of disinterest clouding you before you spare him a sliver of your attention, heart ceasing in the process. He’s a couple inches taller than you, chiselled face highlighted by the dimmed neon lights of the bar. His chestnut brown hair is shades lighter than the brown in his eyes, a twinkle so kind to them that you’re oddly at ease. He’s got an easy smile too, one full of a life you see together years down the line. He’s beautiful. Surely, there’s a catch? Maybe, this is the universe’s way of testing you. Seeing if you’ll make one and the same mistakes again. You wouldn’t, not after how discarded you felt after Jeno. But in the low chatter of the bar, you feel nudged towards him. Like if you take this chance, maybe you’ll rewrite your fate. End the curse of selfish interests and find someone worth loving.

“Hockey will do that to you,” you shrug, averting your eyes because you can’t stand how intentional he looks at you. “Something I’ve recently discovered.”

He laughs, hearty and genuine. “Comes with the territory, unfortunately. Planning my team’s cup parade has been an on-and-off thing since I can remember.”

“Leafs?” He nods and you snicker, recognizing his pain. “At least we’re in the same boat.”

“Misery loves company, I’ve heard,” he smiles, a stutter in your chest the after affect. “Well, since we’re gonna be subjected to this torture for the next two periods, might as well get to know each other. My name’s Jaemin.”

He offers his hand, a formal act that takes you by surprise. You simper regardless, accepting the handshake with a burn against your skin rivaling the sun, telling him your own name.

“Could I interest you in a drink? That usually helps with the sorrows.” he offers, a teasing grin amidst his charming features. As if you could say no to him. 

Jaemin flags the bartender over, two drinks placed before you two. You glance back at your table nearby, catching your friends huddled together on the edge of their seats watching the interaction unfold. The sea of nods and thumbs up makes your eyes roll, a gesture Jaemin catches onto as he looks over his shoulder. He’s playful enough to be amused, politely waving to your group who waves back, falling into a series of audible chatter afterwards.

“They’re not usually that uhm…forward.” You reason, gazing down into your drink.

“I don’t mind forward. It’s funny, if anything,” Jaemin says, running his fingers through his hair. “Do you?”

There’s a hidden layer to his question, nothing to do with them and everything to do with you. Would you like me to be forward? Let you know how much of my interest you hold?

 “Not at the moment,” his eyebrows raise slightly. “Depends on what’s in store.”

Jaemin hums, the corners of his lips lifting which he shields taking a swig of his beer. “I can think of a few things.”

You curse at yourself, opening the door for something that’s already led you down a treacherous path. However, to Jaemin’s credit, those few things conclude at casual brushes of the hand, warm smiles accompanied with heartfelt compliments and his number. He even gets a round of shots for your friends when you part ways, lending all the power to you who is quickly surrounded by squeals and eager looks from your friends. You try not buy into the hype, because you know how this story ends, but you can’t help but hope you’re wrong. 

How wrong you are unfolds the weeks following your encounter, texts sent back and forth at the speed of light like you’re the exception to his day, more encounters following. Jaemin shows up as who he is - warm, insightful and stupidly kind. You’re waiting for the sheep to shed its clothing, but the moment never happens. He treats you like you spin his world around, finding every and any excuse to speak, to see you. You bond over the very thing you started to resent - hockey - and turn it into something more. A topic of conversation, an excuse to spend time together, a date idea you toss around, all until other things fill in the gaps. Become the glue that joins your hearts together, beating in sync. 

You’d promised yourself you’d never fall for another selfish guy again, and you didn’t. Jaemin gives you every bit of himself, devoting himself to being the partner you deserve. A partner that remembers the little things, that picks you up when you’re feeling low, the one person who despite the constant change in your life remains constant. It’s refreshing having his stability in your life, particularly when that first domino falls. When you graduate and have to face the real world.

Jaemin accustomizes himself to the new change relatively quickly, finding a job and apartment before you even graduate. Some people are lucky that way, like some of your friends. You, on the other hand, struggle beyond your graduation day, your smile unnerved in your portrait because you’re so unsure of your future. Friends and family alike assure you you’ll find better luck as the sunny days go by, but when the leaves turn from green to yellow-brown, when they start to fall to the ground, your worries set in.

Another domino falls when the friends you could see on an given whim take over an hour to see, the end of university dispersing you back to hometowns or big cities that promised adventure. You’re holding yourself together, appearing unaffected when you have to move back in with your parents and take up a job you left to go to university. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is, especially when you’re gathered at a cocktail filled table with friends glowing from their new lives polished by elite jobs and new experiences (new friends too). All you can contribute is how many customers have nagged you about the ice cream machine not working.

It isn’t all bad, per se. Since you’re living with your parents again, you save more money which you direct to a travel fund. Ever since you’d met, Jaemin and you always talked about traveling. He’d capture you in front of famous landmarks with his camera, but also capture you in candid moments - pleased that everything ended up working out. It was something you were working towards, a goal you’d taken concrete steps towards but soon, they had to crumble.

A string of bad luck begins to permeate your life, nothing too worrisome at first, but after spending more than necessary to fix your car, being publicly humiliated at work and watching your friends live their best lives online, your patience wears thin. The straw that breaks the camel’s back is the necklace Jaemin gave you early in your relationship breaking. It would’ve been fixable if it weren’t for it falling in between machinery at work that couldn’t be moved in case of a casualty and at this point, you’re no longer strong. You’re not bracing the dominos with all your might and as a result, they crush you, falling against your back and trickling down all the way until the end. 

It’s a wonder how you make it to Jaemin’s apartment for your at-home date and when you step inside, the scent of your favourite meal wafting in the air, you shed a tear. Or a few. Sniffling while you’re taking off your shoes, and of course, the shoelaces somehow get tangled and you’re suddenly fighting a battle you can’t win. Every tug of your laces a test of your willpower.

“Baby love?” 

Your bottom lip quivers, bitten down into as you turn your head to your boyfriend. Bathed in soft lighting, he wears a pink ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron across his My Melody pajamas that match your Kuromi ones. He looks as charming as he did the first day you met, even kinder than you’d known. Luna’s circling around him, her tail curling around his leg and it makes your poor heart burst, the tears overflowing.

He’s at your side before you blink them away, collapsed on the entryway ledge with you as his warm hands cup your face.

“What’s wrong, love?” he calls, gentle like he’s always been. “Please tell me so we can solve it together. Your heart’s too beautiful to be crying like this.”

You sob harder, his thumbs not fast enough to dry the stream from your eyes. “I’m so lost, Jaemi. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“With what?”

“I’m so far behind,” you sulk, looking at him through tears. “Everyone’s got their shit figured out. Life is happening for them, not at them.”

“Oh, baby,” he coos, bringing your body closer as you cradle into his arms, letting your heart break into a million pieces. “Life’s no race, no one knows where they’re going.  There’s nowhere you need to be right now. Everyone moves at their own pace, right?”

“But-”

“Don’t make yourself the exception. Life’s never easy, but you’re making the best of your situation. Yours is the only one that matters, because it’s your story,” Jaemin rasps, a soothing hand caressing your back. “It may not go according to plan, but if there’s anything I know, it’s that you have it in you. To pick yourself up and do the hard things, because you know you deserve more. You know you deserve better.”

A kiss atop your head. “And I’ll be there to support you, each step of the way,”

Another on your forehead. “I’ll remind you as many times as you need, okay?”

Your last tears absorb into your eyelashes, peering up at Jaemin, who on your worst days, looks at you like you hold all the secrets to the universe. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And you mean it. With every fiber of your being.

The collapse of dominos seems to wear you out, surrendering yourself as you go limp in Jaemin’s arms. With a kiss on the forehead, he shuffles to the edge of the doorway ledge, scooping his arms underneath your legs and supporting your back as he stands to his feet. Instinctively, you cling to him, Jaemin providing that same stability he’s given you from the moment you two met. Venturing further into his apartment, he plots you down on the living room couch, all his three cats coming to rest alongside you in his absence. You hear the bath start to run and sink into the couch at the thought, being lulled to the sounds of soft purs and fur.

In your sleepy daze, you don’t realise Jaemin’s finished running the bath until the cats are launching off you, cradled in his arms again as he hums his way to the bathroom. The only lights hat occupy the space are scented-candles, lavender filling the air as Jaemin steads you to your feet, your shared chill playlist blaring a speaker nearby.

Working at the buttons of your blouse, your eyebrows furrow at the shirt he removes. “You’re getting in with me?’

Jaemin offers a sweet, reserved smile, hands picking up where you left off. “Of course. Who else is going to wash your back, hmm?”

He kisses your nose once done, shedding his own share of clothes before slipping into the bubble-filled tub. He makes a comment about how much you’d enjoy the temperature of the water, his flinching a clear indication as he pats against his chest for you to lay. Somehow, with your body sagging with prolonged exhaustion, he draws a simper out of you, tensions dissipating from your muscles as you turn your brain off and simply be. 

Head against his chest, Jaemin’s heart sings to you at a slow and soft pace, his hand overlapping yours as he massages the pressure points on them. It’s as if you’re transported to another world, all you know being quiet and serenity as your problems melt away for just those few moments together. 

“Thank you,” you croak, a sleepy film blurring your vision. “For everything.”

“No need to thank me,” he murmurs, fingers intertwining with yours. “I’ve got your back - forever and always.”

You give his hand an affectionate squeeze, turning your head to give him a peck, only to find his jawline lathered in foam. Jaemin does his best Santa impression, moving his chest with his laughs. It’s lame, but it does the trick, filtering laughter out of you with the shake of your head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You still love me though,” he presses a kiss against your cheekbone, bits of his foam beard left behind. 

“Unfortunately.”

“Must be feeling a lot better if you’re speaking like that,” he squeezes your hand, a series of kiss down your neck making you giggle and splash around the tub. 

“I am,” you admit, an instinctive hand going to clasp against your necklace, only for there to be none. “My necklace - it broke off at work.”

“Aw, shit. I’m sorry baby,” another squeeze. “Is it in your bag?”

“It fell between some machinery at work, I couldn’t get to it,” a lump of emotion wells in your throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Accidents happen, it’s okay,” he reassures you, steady and calm to ground you. “Wanna know something?”

“What?” you ask.

“I actually bought you another necklace earlier today,” he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. “There’s this store on the way to work that had one with your birthstone. It was going to be your Christmas present but,”

“Santa came early this year,” you chuckle, the tilt of your head giving you access to kiss his jaw. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“I ask myself that every day.”

You spend the rest of your night like this, basking in the boundless love Jaemin and you share, wrinkles forming against your skin before you climb out the bath, sitting in your matching pyjamas while enjoying your favourite meal and Leafs hockey game. It’s a bit different from your normal date nights, but it works for you two. Like how everything leading up to your meeting - good or bad - led you here, in the arms of a man who loves you like no other. A man who proved you wrong at every turn and never turned away, staying with you until all the dominos were in place again.

[reidingandwriting]

Lover (Steve Harrington’s Version)

Chapter One: It’s Nice to Have a Friend

“Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand”

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Fem!Reader, some cursing throughout, references to Steve and reader having not so great parents.

A/N: I have churned out this entire series within a week LOL. Shoutout Stranger Things brainrot for returning, I think I’ll be writing a lot more Steve centric fics.

Next chapter

You weaved your way through the crowds, the cool not-quite-spring air hitting you as you walked further from the school. You smiled as you heard your name called, and you immediately turned in his direction to wave. You walked a little faster, apologizing when you brushed someone a little roughly as you passed them, and you beamed up at Steve when you were close. Wordlessly, the two of you began to walk towards his car.

You lived on the same street as Steve Harrington, so naturally the two of you became close during your childhood. You were only a few months younger than Steve, but he had gravitated towards taking on a protective role towards you as you grew up. During middle school, he walked you home every day and now that you were in high school, he continued taking you home- just in a car this time.

“Are we going to mine or yours?” You asked as you tucked your hands deeper into your jacket pockets. You had overslept this morning and forgotten your gloves in your rush to get ready, and you were regretting it as the wind picked up.

“I was thinking yours? If that’s cool. My parents are supposed to be home tonight,” Steve said with a slight frown and you nodded. Steve glanced at you and dug into his pockets before he held his hand out. You eyed the bundle of brown fabric in his hands and you smiled graciously at him as you took the gloves.

“Thank you. And mine is perfect. My parents are on some trip so I’m alone for the rest of the week.” Steve frowned when he realized it was only Tuesday. He didn’t like the idea of you being alone that long, but his and your parents were similar in many ways- they were both fans of the absent parenting method. You and Steve were both happier with your parents gone, as fucked as it was. “Wanna stay over tonight?”

“I should go home,” Steve drawled as he opened your car door. You climbed into the seat and shut the door behind you as Steve went around to the driver’s side. “You sure you don’t mind?” You hummed your affirmation while Steve settled into his seat and you leaned forward to turn up the heat. You laughed as Steve swatted at your hand before you pouted.

“It’s freezing!”

“You’re so dramatic,” Steve said as he pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive home.

“Not all of us are human furnaces.” You huffed and Steve scoffed, turning up the radio and you grinned as you recognized the song. “Ooh, love. Ooh, lover boy. What to do tonight?” You sang along with the radio and missed how Steve rolled his eyes fondly, humming along with your singing. Later that night, you and Steve sat on the couch, pizza boxes discarded on the coffee table as a movie played on the television. You had a book in your hands, and you groaned as you closed it.

“Need a break?” Steve asked and you fell to the side, hitting Steve’s shoulder with an ‘oof’ and Steve shook his head. “You’ve been reading for a while, movie’s almost over.” You looked at the screen, watching for a moment until you recognized the scene. The Shining, one of your favorites. You didn’t answer and Steve poked your cheek. You turned your head, lazily pretending to bite at him and Steve felt some of his worry start to fade away. “You okay?”

“Stressed,” you said simply and Steve sighed as he leaned back against the couch.

“Yeah, me too.” Steve ran a hand through his hair and you watched, tempted to run your own hand through the luscious brown locks. A beat of silence passed until Steve spoke again. “Have you been sleeping okay? You look kinda tired.”

“Dick.” You scowled but your word had no heat to it. “Not really,” you admitted after a second. “My parents have been fighting more lately. College. Dad wants me to stay in Hawkins, but Mom wants me to go somewhere else. Somewhere… bigger.” Better had been the word she used, which had led to an argument where your dad accused you of thinking you’re better than Hawkins and the life he gave you wasn’t good enough, blah blah blah. You didn’t understand why you had been brought into it when you were literally sick in the bathroom, but whatever. Everything was always your fault when it came to your dad.

Steve worried about you. Your parents may have been more physically present than his, but they emotionally were just as absent. They only cared about you when it came to their reputation, and as long as you weren’t ruining the family name, you didn’t exist in their eyes. Your mom… she tried to be better, but with how your dad was, she chose to silently support you with money snuck to you when they’d be gone on long trips. Quietly slipping you information about colleges far from Hawkins, far from Steve. And you deserved better, you deserved to leave Hawkins and accomplish things no one in this small town could ever dream of achieving. But selfishly, Steve wanted you to stay. You were his best friend, he needed you home. When you were little, you had always joked about running away together. Now, he honestly considers it every day.

“Have you decided what you want to do? For college?” Steve asked and you blindly reached for his face, patting until you found his mouth and covered it while you loudly shushed him. “Mature.” Steve’s words were muffled by your hand and you squeezed his face before dropping your hand.

“Don’t wanna think about it. Don’t wanna think about anything,” you said. Steve leaned his head to the side, your hair brushing against his cheek. “How are the kids? We still taking them to the rink Saturday?” Steve welcomed the topic change and he hummed.

“If you still want to go, yeah. Dustin will probably be all pouty if you can’t make it, but he’ll deal.” Dustin had taken a strong liking towards Steve, so naturally he had grown closer to you as well. “Still can’t believe this is how I’m spending my Saturday.”

“You love them,” you said and Steve didn’t have time to defend himself before you yawned.

“Come on sleepyhead, you’re delirious now. Bedtime.” Steve carefully moved you off him and you fell back over with a whine. Steve said your name and you huffed before you sat up, groaning like the task was the hardest thing you had ever done. Together, the two of you took the pizza boxes to the trash and turned all the lights off. You double checked that your door was locked before you turned to Steve.

“Stay?” You asked as you and Steve walked towards your bedroom and Steve nodded. “Thank you. I don’t, I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

“No need to thank me.” The nickname that fell from his lips made your cheeks feel warm and you were grateful for the darkness to hide the smile on your face. You settled into your respective sides of your bed, the moonlight illuminating your features just enough for you and Steve to see each other. “Goodnight.” Steve whispered and you smiled as you closed your eyes.

“G’night, Stevie.” Steve watched you for a minute after you had drifted to sleep, the tension in your body finally melting away. Steve felt himself start to fall asleep and he slowly reached out, brushing his hand against your own as he slept. Neither of you had slept that well in ages.

-

“I need a break!” Steve called as he less than gracefully skated towards the exit of the rink and you passed him quickly, giving him a double thumbs up as you continued to skate. Steve was grateful when he sat down in the booth and Nancy looked over at him, amusement in her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing! Just enjoying seeing them happy.” You had all been through hell and back and it was moments like these that Steve remembered that Dustin and all his friends? They were just kids. Kids who had saved the town twice already, kids who had fought things Steve never would have imagined could be real. Watching the group of them skate, playing games in the arcade… he hoped they would have more moments like that. Steve busied himself with retying one of his skates as Nancy spoke again.

“You should tell her. Before graduation.”

“Not like it matters much,” Steve scoffed. “I didn’t exactly have colleges fighting to have me. I’ll be in Hawkins for god knows how long. But,” Steve trailed off as he watched you do some trick that had his heart leaping into his throat. You caught his gaze and you thrusted your fist into the air as you skated by, proud of yourself. “I can’t let my feelings change her decision.”

“Shouldn’t that be her decision?” Nancy asked, voice gentle, but things otherwise fell into a comfortable silence between the two of them. You came by a minute later and you took a seat beside Steve, grabbing your soda from the table and chugging it.

“Dude, slow down! You’re going to make yourself sick.” Steve scolded and you stuck your tongue out at him once you had set your drink down. “Cool trick out there.”

“Scared him to death.” Nancy added and Steve glared at her. Nancy shot Steve a smug look before he looked back at you.

“Dustin said I was bluffing about being able to do it, and I can’t lose a challenge to a child.” The three of you looked at the rink, seeing the kids all waving you over, and you turned to Steve. “Do you want to skate some more? Or is it break time?” You looked between Steve and Nancy.

“I’ll be back out in a minute,” Nancy said and Steve agreed. You started to stand back up and Steve grabbed your hand. You both froze and Steve swore the touch was electric, his hand tingling from the contact.

“Be careful, yeah? Between you and Max, I’m going gray.” You smiled and saluted.

“Scout’s honor.” And with that, you were off back towards the rink. While Nancy teased him about his ‘mother henning’, Steve missed out on the teasing you were getting from Max.

“Just friends, my ass.”

“Do you want to walk home, gremlin?”

[thisapplepielife]

Happy 1st Anniversary, Tuesday's Gone With the Wind.

Twenty-nine years ago in fictional history, Corroded Coffin's plane crashed into the woods of Louisiana.

Thanks and so much love to anyone and everyone that has given this fic a read over the past year. Thanks for braving beyond that opening author's note. Thanks for the love you've given it. Thanks for making me feel seen. You made me feel like this thing that I spent months solely focused on, deep in research, was worth the time invested. You made me feel that it was a story worth telling.

It's my favorite thing I've ever written, and the one that still occupies my thoughts on the regular.

One year ago today, I finished posting it. It's not my most popular fic, not by a long shot. But I don't think it needs to be. It might not be for everyone, and that's okay.

It was for me.

And if it was for you, too, please know how much I appreciate you for reading it, recommending it, or championing it in any way. The audience it found may not have been huge, but the response from those that did read it, was so beyond overwhelmingly supportive and positive.

I said in the beginning that this was a love story. I'll double down on that now, with a year of distance and the continuation of their story in Wildflowers, under my belt.

It's many love stories.

And I miss these versions of them, and the love they all shared.

I miss Eddie Munson, with his big heart that fell fast and hard and forever. I miss Sweetheart and Dragon Slayer. I miss the Eddie that loved wholeheartedly, and despite all the problems he had, that never changed. Steve Harrington arriving in his life was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he knew that, from the start. He was all in.

I miss the young and flawed Gareth Jones, and his love for Di that he sometimes squandered like a goddamn fool. I miss his ride or die friendship with Eddie, that feels as real in my heart, as anything I've ever seen on screen. Gareth has changed how I listen to music, fundamentally. The drums snap to the forefront, now. And sometimes, I'll smile and think, damn, Gareth Jones would play this like a motherfucker.

I miss Jeff and Goodie, and their lifelong friendship, from the cradle to the grave. Jeff, for his even keel and ability to be part of the solution, instead of part of the problem, and Goodie for being exact opposite. The dry-witted, fanner of flames, that often made things (and let's be real, Gareth) a little bit worse, just because he could, for fun.

I miss Road Manager Steve Harrington, with his red milk crate and his unwavering competence and love. If love could have kept that plane in the air, Steve's love for them all would have been enough to do it, without a doubt.

If you haven't read it, and might want to, amazing, thank you. You don't have to read it unspoiled, and I'll even answer spoilery questions by DM if you want me to, but I'll always stand by the option to read it unspoiled existing, for those that do want to just dive in, and see where it lands. Or crashes, as it were.

I can only hope that you get, or have gotten, something out of reading it, because I absolutely got something out of writing it.

They changed me.

Thanks, boys.

Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day.

[thisapplepielife]

Thank you so much @steddieas-shegoes and @wynnyfryd! ❤️

You're both too kind to me, and to Tuesday's. But it makes me so happy to hear that others enjoyed it and still think about it. Because I do, too.

I think about those characters often, still. Gareth Jones is never leaving me, apparently. My music playlists often feed me a "Gareth" song (ie: drum heavy) and I'll think about that kid out of nowhere. I know I've said it before, but Tuesday's, and Gareth, changed how I listen to music. Drums, drums everywhere. 🤣

(And Sweet Home Alabama is very over played, you're not wrong there. I never imagined I'd feel so moved by a doc about Lynyrd Skynyrd either, lol, trust me. 😂)

@thisapplepielife wrote the fic of all time. idk if I even have anything else to say.

read Tuesday’s gone with the wind everybody. open the tab. Consume that media. Become absolutely obsessed like I have. Send love to Apple about it.

— @steddieas-shegoes crying about Gareth and Eddie’s friendship always

the fic of all TIME!!!! apple literally got me to watch and fall in love with a documentary of lynyrd skynyrd, a band i refused to listen to as a kid bc of how often i was forced to hear sweet home alabama growing up 😂 (to be clear, skynyrd’s a fucking jam and i was a stubborn teen)

seriously though that fic is stunning there’s no other way to describe it

[steddieficrec]

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind by thisapplepielife

(9/9 I 184,150 I Explicit)

Corroded Coffin's leased plane went down on June 13th, 1995 in the woods of Louisiana.

Ten people on board died.

Eddie Munson survived.

Before he survived, he really lived.

(ya'll! ya'll! listen. this fic. it is still running through my head. just. I can't believe it isn't better known. It's got everything. Slow burn, jealousy, pining, angst! fluff!! Ev-ery-thing. Please read it and leave kudos. And also go to @thisapplepielife and tell them how they have actually changed your soul. not your life. your actual soul. Or don't. If you hate joy. (no but really, really such a great fic.))

[bicarbonate-blues]

Heatless Flame

Stardew Valley- Sebastian x Female!Farmer

Summary: Sebastian coming to the farm asking if you have any herbs to help with the rock crab wound he got in the caves and you help patch him up. He's silly goofy in love with the you. Fluff

notes: I'll typically try to do a gender neutral farmer but I'll specify when that isn't the case like with this fic. I use Y/N in this fic.

Tag: @victorylr

The ticking of the clock was far too loud as Sebastian lay in bed, eyes wide and locked onto the ceiling. His hands were folded on his chest but his fingers twitched with frustration and impatience. His skin was crawling as he tried his best to lay still and fall into sleep but it wouldn't take him and he knew that he'd have to get up and do something before his unsettled bones could rest.

That day had been nothing short of miserable. Work had been tedious, boring, and a general waste of time if it weren't for the paycheck. He'd gone upstairs to grab some lunch and instead had retreated right back down the stairs when he'd heard Demetrius and his mom start to bicker at one another. That had been a can of worms he hadn't felt like opening over a reheated slice of pizza. Everyone knew he'd pick his mom's side for whatever asinine thing they were at odds with and Demetrius would give him the stink eye like he shouldn't have been born. A regular Tuesday, really.

Since then he had remained in his room. Normally he wouldn't regret the reclusive day he had made for himself but as the clock ticked further into the night he was dying to do something fun. If it weren't for the brakes on his bike needing maintenance, he'd already be halfway to Zuzu City. Finally, his eyes locked onto a frozen tear that the farmer had gifted him last week for his birthday.

The frozen tear sparked an idea in his mind and off he went, tugging a beanie over his head and tugging on his favorite boots before he left his bedroom. He did his best to be quiet while he searched the dark garage for a leftover pick axe and a flashlight, courtesy of his mother. Snow crunching underfoot, he made his way to the haphazard wooden plank that pretended to be a bridge to the right of his home and he crossed it. It wobbled slightly, his stomach doing flips, and he wondered how it hadn't broken beneath the weight of the horse you rode across it every couple days.

Flashlight at the ready he walked to the back of the mine to where the elevator was poorly lit, like a beacon saving him from his boredom.

Pressing the button going down, Sebastian took a steadying breath. Immediately the metal doors slid open for him, with a slight groan and a loud creak. The impatience flooding his veins was gone now, replaced with excitement. Before the doors slid shut he wondered if he could find something pretty to gift you in return for your gift to him.

_

About five levels down and a backpack full of odd stones he found pleasant to the eye, Sebastian was wondering how in the hell you spent the entire week running back and forth to the mine. Not that he ever could truly complain about you stopping to say hello while he was out for his nightly smoke. You would wrinkle your nose if the wind blew towards you but never in disgust or judgment at his habit, however negative he knew it to be.

It was a secret he kept locked inside his heart but those were his favorite nights. Standing beside you at the lake while you recounted your day's events to him. The glow ring you had lit up the space around your hands as you waved them in the air happily. You were so full of life that it ran over your edges, seeping into him and filling him with a new vigor to do something. Those dreams of escaping to Zuzu City permanently once he had the means seemed so much smaller after meeting you. Without knowing it, you had given him so much, and he'd be damned if he didn't try and repay the effort.

Resettling his bag on his shoulders he climbed down the next ladder he had found. It had been nestled at the end of a long cave, right beside a line of tracks that led to a mine cart full of coal. He had pocketed some, maybe you could use it or Clint could buy it off him.

Nearly immediately after dropping into the cave he saw a curious looking stone that reflected back the beam from his flashlight in oranges and yellows. The cave seemed to glitter, like a heatless flame and he knew immediately that he needed to get this for you. The grin he was imagining you'd have was so brilliant he nearly stopped breathing. I might actually die if she smiles at me for real... He thought in passing as he took to working the stone. What was it?

Sebastian searched his head for thoughts that didn't scream you, you, you. It was hard when you had come to consume him. With a smile he pocketed the stone, the topaz. That's what it is, Topaz. The way the topaz had lit the room up reminded Sebastian of the way your glow ring sparkled off of your eyes when you shared your late night talks.

You were his heatless flame. Never there to hurt him or leave him burned or scarred, but always there to warm him and fill him with a new life he hadn't had since it was just him and his mom, playing pool every Friday even if he hadn't been quite as tall as the table.

In his reverie, Sebastian had lost some of the caution he had practiced the first few levels of the mines. He had cut through slimes and avoided any bug he came across but now he was tripping over a larger than average rock and that rock was beginning to crawl at him.

"Shit!" Sebastian muttered, scrambling back on his hands with his eyes locked onto what he knew now to be a rock crab. They were quicker than he thought and it got it's pincer around his calf before he could mutter another curse. He jerked away from it in panic but all that accomplished was the rock crab strengthening it's grip. The hard edges pulled at his skin and he winced before grabbing the damn thing and ripping it away from his calf.

His heart pounded forcefully in his chest and his head swam momentarily before the rushing in his ears calmed down. The terrible rip of his skin had filled him with adrenaline and he used it to pat his pockets and reassure himself your topaz was tucked safely away before bolting to the ladder and then to the elevator. Sebastian had gotten what he had come for and maybe a little more than he had bargained for.

_

Once Sebastian was safely out of the mines he sat heavily down onto the snow just outside the entrance. With heaving lungs, he let the chill of the snow seep into his scraped hands and dampen the legs of his pants. The cold was grounding, calming. His calf gave a painful twinge and he snuck a glance at the offending wound. Blood dyed the snow beneath him scarlet but the flow was not fast nor terribly bothersome. There was an ache that wouldn't go away and he knew he should get it tended to but Harvey was long asleep and he wasn't about to face his mother's wrath or invasive questions.

Robin's anger wouldn't be half as frightful if he told the truth but then she'd look at him with searching eyes and say, "The farmer, huh?, like it wasn't obvious that he had fallen for her this last flower dance when she had danced with Alex of all the people in town. She had danced with the man who shared the least in common with him. Did that mean something?

His heart gave a sharp tug almost as painful as the rock crab wound. Sebastian knew damn well Alex had invited you to dance just to catch Haley's eye, but you had said yes. You were more than arm candy and he had spent the next week in the worst mood wondering why. It wasn't until he saw you again that that feeling had eased and then he'd been faced with the knowledge of having fallen in love.

You had just shrugged when he'd asked how the dance had been with Alex. A sly smile played at your lips when you'd then asked, "How was dancing with Abigail?", like you knew something he didn't. Like you knew Abby was a childhood friend he tried to put distance from as often as possible and had since become a placeholder for inconveniences such as the annual dance. Like you knew he was wishing for her to be you.

Shuffling around on the snow when his hands began to sting with the cold, he realized that he needed to get up and care for his wound. He could walk on it well enough so he hobbled even more cautiously this time over the wooden bridge and back into his garage. Eyes peeled and flashlight at the ready he searched for where his mom kept her first aid kit for when she worked. Spotting it on Demetrius' workbench, he opened up only to be filled with disappointment. Sebastian's wonderful, loving, intelligent mother had not restocked the first aid kit in Yoba only knows how long.

Where would he even-?

Sebastian's thought was cut off with your name, as much of his thoughts were. You were always around town with bandaged fingers and poultices to offer to Evelyn for sore hips or to Vincent for scraped knees. You would have something to help.

He supposed it was wishful thinking that you would answer the door, and the walk to the farm wouldn't be delightful this time of night let alone with a bum leg but Sebastian pictured your smile once more and that heatless flame you gave off warmed him just enough to spur him to action.

_

Sebastian's head swam uncomfortably as he took the route to your farm but he used what adrenaline he had left in him to carry him all the way to your porch. Thankfully, torches lit the way and he didn't stumble or otherwise agitate his calf. Knocking on the door one, two, three times he let his fist fall before settling into the rocking chair you had set up for when George came to see you.

You had confided in him once that George enjoyed watching you work and was comfortable with letting you help him into the rocking chair. It reminded him of his childhood and Sebastian thought it was so sweet he could fall apart. He chuckled for a moment, even if Alex wasn't interested, he was sure that George hoped you would take a liking to his grandson just so he could claim you as family.

"Y/N!" He called, not too loud but none too gently either. He'd be thrilled to get something to fix the damn ache in his leg and close up the wound but if you were sleeping there was a part of him that wanted you to keep on dreaming. Your welfare mattered greatly to him, nearly over his own. He let his eyes close for a moment. Maybe it'd be alright if he just rested here for a second and then he could be on his way. He'd see Harvey tomorrow.

"Sebastian! What happened?" You gasped, jolting Sebastian back to reality. You held three jars of mayonnaise in your hands and at the sight of him you dropped all of them.

His throat was suddenly dry at the sight of you.

"Y/N, I-"

"Inside, right now," Your scolded but your voice was still so warm and even as your eyebrows knit together in confusion he could see the concern in those gorgeous eyes while they traced down his figure to the tattered jeans and blood on his leg.

Sebastian pushed himself up from the rocker and nearly giggled when your hand pressed firmly against his back. If he thought hard enough he could imagine your hard-earned callouses against his spine and he suppressed a shiver. Maybe he had bled a bit more than he'd thought.

You pulled a chair out from a table, your farmhouse being much larger than when he had last visited. Rather than the single room your first year, you now boasted a kitchen, three upper level rooms, a cellar and basement. You put his mom to good work and good work she had achieved.

And here he was, getting blood on the hardwood.

"Sit and speak," You demanded and Sebastian fixed his eyes onto yours. You were already shuffling around in one of your cabinets, retrieving an armful of supplies. He knew you'd have just what he needed.

"Got bored. Went to the mines and didn't see a rock crab."

Sebastian nearly rolled his eyes. He didn't mean to sound so....apathetic. He had spent so long playing it cool that he didn't know how to take himself out of it even when internally he was aching to shower you with gifts, affirmations, and if he was lucky enough, affection.

The pinched look of your face didn't exactly disappear but it eased some as you knelt before him, eyes wide and perfect as they took him in. He always felt exposed around you and at first it had made him uncomfortable. He had tried pushing you away because of it, but now he relished the feeling of being seen.

"My, my, Seb," You scolded against, this time warmly and without the nervous energy you'd had before when you hadn't known what was wrong with him. His heart leapt jerkily at the words you spoke. Yes, yours, all yours actually just ask me-

"It was dark," He mumbled, cheeks bright pink from the cold and something more.

"Typically in an unlit mine, things are dark," You agreed playfully, hands carefully but steadily rolling up the torn leg of his jeans. He really had liked him but he couldn't find it in him right now to mind the loss with your fingers prodding gently at his skin.

"Oh shut it," Sebastian laughed but the last thing he wanted was for you to stop speaking. Regrettably, you grew silent for a moment but he knew it was in concentration as you took a wet rag and wiped the blood and dirt away from the edges of his wound. So careful not to hurt him. Always so careful.

"Does it hurt?" You whispered, tilting your chin up at him. Sebastian drank up your appearance, the light from the fireplace casting gentle shadows against the side of your face. You were kneeling before him, hands carefully prodding at his leg and lips stuck out in a pout. He wanted run his fingers through your hair and pull you to him.

"Nothing hurts right now," He said a bit too honestly, not having time to question the words before they were out. You looked alarmed for a second, hand coming to press against his forehead.

"Don't joke so much, you sound like you're dying and meeting Yoba,"

"Oh yeah, because a scrape from a rock crab would-"

"Stop being sassy Seb, let me clean you up."

Sebastian couldn't help the dumbfounded grin that surfaced. There was something about the way you commanded the room, commanded him, that left him weak in the knees with no defenses.

You hummed softly, even when you applied alcohol to sanitize the wound and he hissed, jerking roughly away from you. You had gripped his thigh to keep him from moving too much and he stilled the second you squeezed. He stopped moving, let alone breathing, after that. Soon you were securing his calf with a bandage and looking at him with a satisfied but curious smile.

"You know, you're lucky I forgot to get the mayo from the coop earlier or I would've been in bed and you would've bled out on my porch,"

"I thought you might be awake," Sebastian answered honestly.

"Your mom could've helped,"

"Her first aid kit was empty,"

"Harvey-"

"Sleeping, and I wanted to give you something anyways,"

That look like you knew something he didn't played at your features again and his stomach did a somersault. To get away from the dizzy feeling you were giving him, he stood up and walked almost normally to his bag that had been left by the door.

"You didn't have to get me anything,"

You said it airily, with no real conviction. He knew you liked presents just like everyone else in town except you didn't receive them nearly half as often as you gave them out. For god's sake Pierre gave you seven potato seeds at the feast of the winter star last year. Sebastian was praying Lewis would let him be your secret gifter this year.

He pulled out the Topaz and extended it, eyes darting to the ceiling but then dropping back down to you. No matter how vulnerable he felt right now, in your home in the middle of the night, he wanted to see you light up at the sight of your present.

It was only when you held the topaz in your hands and looked at it oddly he thought you must have gathered plenty for yourself and he felt momentary regret. What could he give you that you didn't already have?

Taking two steps closer, you raised your chin and he noticed with shock that your eyes had grown glossy with tears.

"How did you know I love topaz?"

Sebastian couldn't help but let out an abrupt chuckle. "I honestly didn't, but it reminded me of your glow ring when you leave the mines and we talk and so I couldn't help but-"

You had put an end to his rambling by throwing your arms around his waist, topaz still held protectively in one of your hands as you tightened your arms around him and snuggled your head against his chest.

The air had definitely left him, never to return, and he was in fact going to die on your floor.

"Y/N..." Sebastian had nothing to say but he felt compelled to speak your name. The way it sounded off of his lips felt like finding a missing puzzle piece.

"Sebastian," You whispered in response, not releasing him from the hug.

"Y/N," Sebastian teasing said back. You huffed in amusement and began to pull away, thinking the moment was over but Sebastian kept you in his arms and you stopped trying to move away when he didn't let go. You stilled even further when he brushed a barely-there kiss to the crown of your head as if possessed by the need to feel your hair against his lips.

"Thank you for helping me, I'm sorry it's late,"

"Thank you for giving me a gift, I'm sorry it's late,"

He rolled his eyes at your parroted words but held you closer. He couldn't feel the cool wetness from his snowy pants or the ache in his calf nor the sting in his palms anymore. His heatless flame with her healing touch had removed all of his ailments.

Sometime later, after you had got him a towel and a warm cup of coffee to sip at while you talked on the couch, you let your head fall onto his shoulder and rest there. Even longer after that, the sun had come up and you had begun your work for the day with the promise to take a nap, Sebastian was on his way home with a skip in his step and warmth in his chest (and two new jars of mayonnaise in his pack).

Maybe you did know something he didn't know but maybe he was starting to see that his feelings for you weren't so different from how you felt about him.

[wynnyfryd]

Steddie comfort read rec list <3

i asked y'all to tell me your most re-read fics and once again got tupperware avalanche.gif-ed, so. for your viewing pleasure, please find below the cut in alphabetical order because i will apparently not being doing any actual work at work today the full rec list thus far:

a special privilege for the resurrected by theopteryx E | 56k | recced by @pennyplainknits

Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts (@paradimeshifts7) E | 28k | recced by @thefreakandthehair

baby what's your blood type? (is it mine?) by cheatghost T | 5k | recced by @steddie-island

bear hugs by steddieas_shegoes (@steddieas-shegoes) E | 41k WIP | recced by @thefreakandthehair

butter, sugar, and northern mockingbirds. by througheden (@thefreakandthehair) E | 17k | recced by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

call me sunshine, send me to space by steddieas_shegoes (@steddieas-shegoes) E | 90k | recced by @mugloversonly

carve your name into my chest by hexiewrites (@hexiewrites) E | 43k | recced by @thefreakandthehair

Critical Hit by AidaRonan (@aidaronan) E | 7k | recced by @steddie-island

Cut and Changed and Rearranged by AidaRonan (@aidaronan) T | 11k | recced by @pennyplainknits

Date me instead by Zhuletta E | 44k | recced by @thefreakandthehair

Dustin Henderson and the Lovebirds by pukner (@pukner) G | 10k | recced by @steddie-island

i come back to the place you are by pizzabones E | 212k | recced by @mugloversonly

i don't know, you figure it out by wynnyfryd E | 61k WIP | recced by @steddie-island

i've been having a horrible time pulling myself together by deadratz (@munsonkitten) E | 75k | recced by @thefreakandthehair

Keep it Steady, Eddie by outofmygourd E | 105k | recced by @mugloversonly

laughing at the broken glass by mustlovesteve (@mustlovesteve) M | 151k | recced by @bumblebeecuttlefishes

No Fairy Tale Ever Started This Way by ElliottRook E | 7k | recced by @steddie-island

Pas de Deux by Malikat22 (@malikat24601) E | 90k | recced by @br0ck-eddie

relax (lay it back) by wynnyfryd and Gorgeousgreymatter (@gorgeousgreymatter-x) and podfic by flintandfuss (@flintandfuss) E | 12k | recced by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

Saltwater Prayer by Asgardian_Pirate E | 54k | recced by @thefreakandthehair

Sanctuary by SpicedSage E | 47k | recced by @pennyplainknits and @messessentialist

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours) by steddieasitgoes (@steddieasitgoes) M | 61k | recced by @thefreakandthehair

so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey by pricklywhicket (@messessentialist) E | 14k | recced by @steddie-island

Someone who cares by Just_my_latest_hyperfixation (@just-my-latest-hyperfixation) E | 84k | recced by @mugloversonly

start by pulling him out of the fire by pricklywhicket (@messessentialist) E | 85k | recced by @steddieas-shegoes

The Shire is NOT on Fire by kissesforcas (@kissesforcas) E | 54k | recced by @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind by thisapplepielife (@thisapplepielife) E | 184k | recced by @wormdebut

wouldn't it be nice (if we could wake up) by kissesforcas (@kissesforcas) E | 130k | recced by @pennyplainknits

Your Biggest Fan by LexiRoseWrites (@lexirosewrites) E | 47k | recced by @mugloversonly

[inthedarknessofnight]

24 Steddie favourites of 2024

*sighs* Well, it only took me about a week to finalise this list (I'd hoped to have it ready by New Year's Eve, but here we are). To be fair, I had to go through my entire 2024 history on AO3, and I've read more Steddie fics this past year than ever before (escapism/coping mechanism and all that *cue nervous laughter*). Some of these are newer fics, some are older, some are fandom staples that I only just got around to reading in 2024 (and, listen, if you're gonna come for me with "BuT WhAT WeRe YoU dOiNg iN 2022 AnD 2023", the answer is... mind yer damn business). Oh, and I've decided to sort these alphabetically because actually having to rank them would be like asking a parent to choose their favourite child... impossible.

So, without further ado, here's the list of my top 24 fics of 2024 (only COMPLETED works btw):

"The A is for Ally" by sleepingoffyourdemons

Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts

call me curious by ghosttotheparty

call my bluff when I roll the dice by gayjinkies

Desperado (You better let somebody love you) by ParadimeShifts

Dog Days of Summer by WabiSabiPapi

Forever is the Sweetest Con by HairMetal666

honeymoon phase by Ayes, coincidental, itskleo

I know I've kissed you before (Can I try again) by ChristinMKay

Lovesick in Loch Nora by red0aktree

Petals in a Storm by inairbinad

Roommate Wanted by Lihhelsing, tinkerbclla

seeing daylight by Ayes, itskleo

start by pulling him out of the fire by pricklywhicket

Skull Rock Era by chattrekisses

Summer '86 by how_about_no

the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you by greatunironic

Take the Money and Run by thisapplepielife

The Shire is NOT on Fire by kissesforcas

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind by thisapplepielife

Without You I Am the Last of Our Kind by twiceasfar

You Make It So Easy To Love You by MysteriousMidnight

You Put Out Heat Just Like the Morning Sun by thesurefireway

Yours (all along) by ohstars

[last-herondale]

Everyday

Jacob Black X FemReader

hurt/comfort, slight angst, some fluff

It’s the day before your wedding and you are lost inside your thoughts. Having doubts about your true love?

A/N: Helllooooo. Sorry for being MIA for a bit, but here is the second to last fic for this Wintered series. I really appreciate all of y’all’s support and comments. 🫶🏼

The beach was beautiful in the moonlight. The dark looming water in the distance crashed against the cliff sides, like haunting bursts of energy echoing all around you. It was late—too late for the locals to enjoy their fires and surfing. For anyone else, the eerie quiet of the beach and the chill wind that blew through the fall night would have been too much. But It was perfect for you.

You dug your feet into the sand a little deeper, wiggling your toes slightly to let as much of the grainy feeling between your skin. As you looked out to the water, you tried to let your breathing match the movement of the waves, inhaling slowly and breathing out even slower. Still— your heart felt as if it was cliff diving. As if the water was coming towards you a million miles an hour. You shook your head, and buried your forehead into your crossed arms.

This wasn’t how a bride should feel a few hours before her wedding.

You felt warm tears fall down your cheek and you silently cursed yourself. Why the hell were you crying? Most people could only hope to marry their soulmate—you were one of the few that got to be 100% certain. You thought of him—your soulmate, your imprint, your partner, your everything— you thought of Jacob and your heart tugged on a million strings. The tears fell down quicker and you caught a sob in your throat.

“Damn it all,” you muttered to yourself as you wiped away at your tears. Your eyes lingered on the simple silver band on your ring finger. It had been Jacob’s mothers ring. He had proposed to you on a random Tuesday. The two of you had gone swimming at one of your favorite spots, and in between playful kisses he had asked you to marry him. At the time there seemed to be no choice. Why would you ever say no? He was your imprint— your soulmate. Where else did this road lead?

You felt his presence as soon as he stepped on the beach. Your body was drawn to him, and you whipped your head around to see Jacob slowly walking to you, his feet bare in the sand with his hands in his pockets. You buried your head in your arms in shame. You cursed silently to yourself as he sat beside you.

“Trouble sleeping?” He asked. His voice was so soft and tender that your heart was on the edge of shattering. There was no hint of anger, not a single tone of judgement— only compassion. You bit your lip and just shivered.

“I went to sleep easily enough,” he continued on, his voice even against the sound of the crashing waves, “but strangely enough I kept dreaming of the beach. I could smell the ocean, and almost feel my toes in the sand…”

You lifted your head a little, seeing him look out to the waves as he too dug his toes in the sand. He turned to face you, his deep brown eyes were dark in the moonlight. They pulled you in, reminding you how safe you were with him. His expression was sympathetic as he tilted his head slightly, studying your distress.

“What’s wrong baby?”

Your heart melted inside of your chest. You gave up trying to hide your feelings. You knew he could sense your pain, sense the reality of your feelings no matter how much you wanted to push them away.

“I’ve just been thinking… about tomorrow.” You finally choked out. You kept waiting for disappointment or hurt to cross his face, but it never did. He just sat beside you, waiting patiently for you to go on. You gathered your courage and looked out towards the water.

“I’ve never given much thought about what it would be like to be married. As a kid I jumped around, living where I could— always looking for my own place to belong. I never found that place. One where I was accepted for all of who I was— even the parts of me I didn’t realize existed…” you said softly, letting your fingers trace the pack tattoo on your arm.

You turned to Jacob with a soft smile, “And then I found you.” Jacob returned a loving glance, a soul shattering tenderness that made you turn away once again.

The memory of your first meeting was all too clear. It happened on this very beach, when a wandering soul met a group of scraggly La Push boys with long hair and a busted up truck. One look and your life had been altered forever.

“Suddenly my life was something more than I could have ever imagined. I found my family, my friends, myself… It all happened so quickly that I think I got lost in the wonder of it all. Now that we aren’t fighting any monsters… now that we are safe— I’ve just been thinking about everything…” tears blurred your vision.

“If it weren’t for the imprint… I just wonder… would you even love me?” The words were finally out and with them your resolve. You became a mess and turned to Jacob.

“Oh— Jake…” your voice cracked. “Please—“

He immediately pulled you in, wrapping his arms around you in his warm embrace. You gripped his muscular arm, letting tears fall down your face as he ran his free hand in your hair. Immediately you were comforted by his touch. He whispered soothing words in your ears as you cried against him. “I’m so sorry Jacob…I feel so stupid and naive and selfish—“

Jacob cut you off by pushing you away gently, being mindful to keep you in reach as he looked into your eyes with burning sincerity. “Do not ever apologize for your feelings. You are not stupid for how you feel. Sweetheart listen to me— I love you. I have loved you long before the day I imprinted on you.” Tears began to peak from his eyes.

“Come here,” he murmured as he pulled you close again, letting your head rest on his chest. You shuddered a breath, letting the sent of him calm yourself as he ran his hand down your back. “Tell me,” he said gently, “did you love me the day you imprinted on me?”

“No,” you said immediately, remembering that day. “I was infuriated with you. I had just met you, and yet my whole world view changed in the drop of a dime. I wanted to know why you had such power over me. That’s why I stayed in La Push, to figure out enough to confront you.”

You felt Jacob chuckle under you and you couldn’t help but smirk. “I was so mad and confused that day. I thought about leaving, moving on to the next town like I always did… but fate intervened. My emotions were a wreck… and then later that night I was angry and alone in the woods and I shifted for the first time. Sam found me and suddenly I had no choice but to be around you.”

“It wasn’t until I learned more about our ability— about the tribe legends that I figured out what had happened. I just never understood why you didn’t imprint as I had. I didn’t tell anyone— and the others couldn’t read my mind so I had decided that it was me… I was the anomaly. The freak.”

Jacob’s hands tightened around you as you whispered the last word. You smiled and gave his neck a quick kiss. It was moments like this that he eradicated the doubts in your mind. His small gestures of affection that he made unconsciously brought you out of your thoughts. “So, no, my love. I did not love you when I first imprinted. But as you often do, you captured my heart.”

He had become what you needed most. Your friend. Someone who could understand the changes the pack life made. Someone who could still have fun and laugh even in the midst of facing vampires. Someone who saw you for you, even when you weren’t sure who that was. It seemed impossible, imprint or no, that you wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.

He kissed the top of your head. “I knew I loved you— truly and unconditionally— the night before Bella’s wedding.” Your mind went back to that night— he had been drunk and in pain over the thought of losing her. “I didn’t think you’d have thought of me at all that night,” you whispered.

“A lot of things became clear that night.” His voice took on a more serious tone, but his hands still held you in a gentle embrace. “I had hit an all time low. I thought my world was ending. I thought I wanted to be alone in my sorrow, to drown out the heartache and pain, but somehow my soul knew to call out for you. You came for me that night, in the pouring rain and cared for me in all the ways I wanted Bella to. Even when I was at that point— drunk, destructive, and in love with someone else… you still showed me the same care and tenderness that you show everyone. You walked my sorry ass back to my house, tucked me into bed like a child, and laid there with me, humming me to sleep.”

Tears fell down his cheeks and landed in your hair. He sniffled and held you a little tighter. “I realized that night that I couldn’t live my life without you. That I loved you… in the most selfish way possible. Never in my wildest dreams did I think you could love such a mess like me.”

He took a ragged breath.

“I know our story is a complicated one. One filled with so much confusion and heartache—“ his voice wavered a bit, “but it’s ours y/n. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It took me thinking I would lose you— forever— for this stupid imprint to finally figure out what I already knew. That you are the most important part of my life. Without you— well… I can’t even imagine what I would do— who I would be…”

You pulled away from him far enough to look at his face. His hands cupped either sides of your face and held you gently, his eyes soft and shiny with tears.

“You and me. That’s all that matters. That’s all that will ever matter. I don’t care if we get married. I don’t care if we live in La Push. I don’t care if the rest of the world falls into oblivion, as long as I have you— my life will be complete. I promise, for as long as I live, to show you how much I love you, everyday for the rest of our lives. Even if you decide you don’t want me anymore—I will be there for you, in any capacity you need me. I will love you, the way you have loved me all this time— forever.”

You smiled, tears spilling down your cheeks as the waves crashed behind you. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your heart felt at ease. Those doubts, those silly little thoughts dissipated with every word he spoke. “Are those your wedding vows?” You teased, brushing your fingers on his skin, making him shiver. He laughed between his tears and tilted his head against yours. “Baby— the wedding vows could not even begin to compare.”

The two of you laughed together. The sound was beautiful in your ears. You pulled Jacob in for a kiss, soft and tender. The sun began to peak out from the horizon, and the soft shades of daylight warmed your back as you kissed the love of your life. You broke apart, turning until the the two of you sat facing the rising sun. You closed your eyes and let yourself be whole in this moment. Could the rest of your life really be this beautiful? You opened your eyes and turned to kiss Jacob’s cheek. Yes. As long as you were with him… it would be.

“What do you say?” You asked playfully, nipping at his ear. “Feel like getting married?”

Jacob couldn’t hide the joy from his expression. He smiled and in a blink of an eye he was picking you up and swinging you around, peppering your face with dozens of kisses. You giggled like a gleeful child as he gently put you on your feet.

“If you’ll have me,” Jacob said, holding out his hand.

You took it without hesitation.

“Always.”

Taglist: @steverogersgirlfriend-blog-deac @milesquaritchh @sugaraddict301

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

"In the night, I am real..." // [Part I]

Pairing | Alpha x reader

Word count | 1.8k

Warnings | Ghouls sent back to the Pit, ritual gone wrong, rite here rite now spoilers, canon divergence, f!reader - no y/n

Chapter Summary: You decide to see if the "silly book" you found is more than it seems. Heartbroken, you follow the ancient book's instructions to perform a ritual, hoping to bring Alpha back on your own. However things don't quite go according to plan.

A/N: The biggest S/O to @sister-nyx for giving me the confidence to post this, for proofreading and for all your help along the way 🖤 This is my very first Ghost/ghoul fic! I'm new to writing, but I had this idea and had to roll with it. One chapter will be released every day at 10am EST.

I hope you enjoy!!

[Next]

To any other member of the Ministry, today was just a normal Tuesday. Nothing grand or exciting was happening. No special visitors, no spontaneous events. Even the members of the band got the day off from practice on Tuesdays. Copia had a well known dislike for this particular day of the week, ‘Why can’t every day be Friday? I like Friday’s much better, don’t you?’ he always said. 

It was just quiet. Simply, quiet. The midday sun was peeking through the break in the clouds that donned the blue, late summer sky. The rays shining down on the Ministry, engulfing the structure and its grounds like a warm hug. The sisters were excitedly finishing up with their daily chores before making their way outside to enjoy the shortened workday, and the nice summer breeze. Even some of the Ghouls and Ghoulettes left the den to partake in their shenanigans outside instead. The Sisters were so delighted when Copia introduced this new schedule. While it may seem a bit unconventional, this was anything but a conventional convent.

For one Sibling however, it was just a normal Tuesday. You quietly finished up your chores in the library, returning borrowed books of all sorts back to their correct shelves. Making your way through the towering bookcases as you expertly place books titled, ‘How to Care for Worms’ and ‘Maintaining Nutrient Rich Soils’ back into their rightful place as part of the gardening section. Normally the Sisters in the gardening club take care of the grounds. However these books in particular, you knew, had a different audience. 

“Swiss must’ve finally asked Mountain if he would still love him as a worm. Oh Swiss, you’re in great hands. Don’t you worry,” softly chuckling to yourself.

You made your way around the large library. Putting away books about the ‘Pop Music Explosion of the 2000s’ (that was probably Copia), ‘Majestic Rivers of the World’ (you wondered if Rain is feeling okay with all this sunny weather), and ‘Silly Sentences: Handwriting Workbook’ (now you knew where Phantom came up with all those random words).

You paused once you reached the last book in the pile. This book was a very strange one indeed. 

You didn’t seem to remember ever seeing this one before. It was quite large and heavy. The cover was expertly bound in black leather, adorned with once bright gold symbols. You estimated it to have been at least 100 years old. There was a large latch on the side with a hole, showcasing where a lock would have been. 

“What harm ever came from reading a book?” 

Ultimately curious, you flipped back the latch and opened it. You didn’t know what you were expecting, a large spooky gust of wind perhaps? Unfortunately nothing of the sort happened. As you flipped back the front cover, the pages inside looked like metal the way they reflected the sunlight that shone through the large stained glass windows. It was almost like they were coated in gold. Yet they were quite worn and tarnished on the edges, proudly showcasing where the previous owners had often flipped through its pages. In their prime, you thought, this would have been beautiful.

The ancient Latin that covered the glistening pages was not printed like most books of the modern age, but written by hand. There must have been over 1000 pages, all meticulously created by some unknown author. As you flipped through, you found every single page covered in a seemingly everlasting black ink that had not begun to fade in the slightest. 

Let it be said that you were not overly fond of your Ancient Latin classes. Often opting to ignore the day's teachings, doodling in your workbook instead. You grabbed the strange book from the cart and sat along the back wall of the empty library, slowly deciphering what the author wanted to so desperately preserve.

After about 3.5 hours of (quite roughly) translating a whopping 4 pages of text, you concluded that this book was at its core, about death. More accurately, it spoke about the process of bringing people back.

That night as you laid in bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you read in that strange book. You wondered if it was something that Swiss ordered. Using the incantations to scare Phantom by pretending to summon the Hat Man. Or if the tellings in it really were true. Was it actually possible to bring people back from the dead?

For many years now, you have been a bit lost. You put on a strong front for the Clergy and forced convincing smiles, but anyone who knew you, knew you just weren't the same as when you first arrived at the Ministry. 

You used to jump at the chance to help Alpha and Omega with cleaning up the practice room after rehearsal. Or running to get guitar strings when they broke. You would help Zephyr with his back pain, and even sometimes help Earth practice his eye makeup. When Terzo took over shortly after you got settled, he helped you cope and understand your parental trauma. He became like a father to you. No one knew what was coming though. No one except for Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator. 

It was a shock for everyone when they all disappeared. But for you, it was like your entire world collapsed. The Ghouls that helped you have fun, the Papa that proved to you that you wouldn’t have to be scared anymore - all gone. It was devastating.

It took about 3 months before you would allow anyone to speak with you outside of the Siblings you worked with. Copia was always so nice, you felt guilty for purposely avoiding him. The two of you had some pretty good times during his previous role as a Cardinal. You just couldn’t stand to call anyone else Papa, that was reserved for Terzo.

When the new band first started rehearsing in the practice room, you happened to be walking by. Hearing the iconic riffs and melodies, you excitedly skipped towards the door, looking through the window. Only to find absolutely no one you recognized. All these Ghouls were new.

You didn’t know whether to be sad or angry. This was Terzo’s space. This was Alpha and Omega’s space. What you didn’t notice, as you walked away in tears, was that there were still a few of your Ghouls left. Aether and Dewdrop were still here. While you never really hung out with Dewdrop all that much, you ran into Aether in the infirmary a couple weeks later, and everything just boiled to the surface.

“Hi.” Aether said softly, with a sympathetic smile. “Copia noticed you weren’t doing so great, so he asked me to check in on you. He thought a familiar face might be easier.”

All you could do was just stand there and stare at the Ghoul, expressionless and in silence.

“I’m really sorr–”

“Why are you here?” You spoke in an audible whisper.

Aether blinked and stood there, stunned. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here?” You spoke, with a bit more conviction.

I don’t think either of you expected such hostility. Aether thought it would be best if he talked to you instead of one of the new Ghouls. It was actually his idea. He knew you were hurting, and you had been hurting for a long time. He just wanted to help - but what did he miss?

Aether started second guessing whether getting Rain or Mountain to chat with you would’ve actually been a better course of action. He gazed down at you, at his friend who looked at him like he was the sole reason a part of you died that day.

You were shocked at yourself. Shocked at the pure anger you were expressing towards him. You didn’t really understand where it was coming from, but it was taking over every logical thought you had in that moment. Apart from just now, you thought Aether had been sent back to the pit with everyone else. You thought that you lost him too, but here he is. Standing in front of you after all this time.

“I don’t understand,” Aether pleaded softly.

“Why are you here?” 

And then the floodgates opened.

“I mean, why is it you that’s still here? What made you sooo special that Copia decided to keep you? I thought you were DEAD, Aether. I thought I had no one left. That Sister and Nihil wiped the slate clean for her new prize pony, Copia, and his new Ghoul entourage. I’ve been suffering by myself for months!”

The tears started to well up in your eyes as you composed yourself and continued. 

“I actually walked by the practice room the other day. I heard the songs they used to play and I thought, ‘they’re back!’. But when I looked through that window, all I saw was a bunch of Ghouls pretending to be you. Pretending to be him.”

Aether knew you had a close connection with Terzo, and seeing Copia in his place must have been really hard for you. When he first stepped in to replace Omega, he could feel how sad you were about the change. But it was different then.

When Aether and Ifrit stepped in, it wasn’t like Alpha and Omega just vanished. They were still around to help the new Ghouls learn the songs, and give tips on stage presence (although Ifrit quickly navigated that aspect of the job). The two Ghouls were just taking a break from touring for a little while. It was physically and mentally demanding, and they weren’t the youngest kits on the block by any means.

However Aether knew that Terzo wasn’t who you were referring to.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spoke. “I really am. I’m sorry that it’s me and not Alpha who got to stay.”

The Ghoul knew better than to say any more after that. He was often at the receiving end of your late night chats. You would come by to tell him about how you thought Alpha was ignoring you because he hated you. When in reality, the poor fire Ghoul was just scared of this new emotion he was experiencing called ‘caring’.

A mention of his name was all it took before you sank to your knees and wept, while Aether just stood there and watched. Not out of indifference, but out of sympathy. He knew you had bottled this up for so long, pretended like everything was fine. He was simply allowing you to release the pressure that was eating at you from the inside out.

Aether slowly walked the few steps over to where you knelt on the ground. Sitting beside you, he ran a cautious hand down your back.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “Aether, I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m still going to be here for you, even if you hate me.”

[Next]

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: thisapplepielife! @thisapplepielife has 37 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 24 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @thisapplepielife:

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind

Take the Money and Run

You Oughta Know

Never Not Mine

Let the Boy Be Merry

"They are my favorite Corroded Coffin writer. I found by accident their fic “Tuesday's Gone With the Wind” and loved everything they wrote since!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @thisapplepielife answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Steve Harrington. I found myself not connecting with S4 when it premiered, and decided that I probably just needed to rewatch the other three seasons again first, since it'd been a while between seasons. Well, Steve was always my favorite, but I left that re-watch with his voice fully lodged in my brain. So, I had to write something for him, just for myself. That was You Oughta Know. We all knew Eddie identified as a runner, and that just felt like the story to tell. Then somehow, for some unknown reason that I still cannot possibly explain, I decided to actually post it. I still don't know what possessed me to do that, honestly.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good second chance fic: A divorced couple that eventually rekindles. A missed first chance that they get to take another crack at, later in life. I also like a good heartbreaker of a fic. I know, I know. Don't get me wrong, I still love happy endings, but I don't require them. Break my heart. Do it.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Slice of life? Is that considered a trope? I know I like to write about things we all deal with in real life, from the small and inconsequential: a mattress with a bad spring. The delight of clean sheets. Or the bigger: the real life heartbreak of unavoidable loss and grief.  And older Steddie is my favorite, I think. I love to spend time writing for them. These boys that turned into men, who made a full life together, and it's great. Maybe not perfect. But they wouldn't trade it for the world. That makes me happiest.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting by badpancake is the one I think of that grabbed me first, and did not let go. I still need to read the final part of the trilogy! My fic TBR is so, so long because I definitely struggle with writing and reading at the same time. I know there is amazing work out there that I've just never read yet. But I look forward to it, absolutely. It's just something I've never figured out how to manage well. Joining Tumblr has helped that immensely, though! Reading the shorter fics here has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed it so much. There are amazing things being posted every single day! And I gotta say that don't start (too late) by Ark is one of the best "first time" fics I've ever read in any fandom. Eddie's inner voice is wonderful. I believe every word he thinks while he experiences this brand new thing with Steve.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

It's not brand new to me, but there's a found family one that I've been tinkering with for a very long time, and that excites me.  And I do love events for tossing me situations or prompts to write for that I may not have thought of, independently. @steddiemicrofic especially has been so, so fun. I think it was the very first event I wrote for on Tumblr, and the challenge of having a very limited amount of words, but still trying to make it feel like a whole story has been told, has been a blast. Thanks to @wynnyfryd and @steddieas-shegoes for challenging us all each month!

What is your writing process like?

I don't outline or anything. I just write, and edit, as I go. And I'll edit obsessively. I'll tweak and change small things over and over, ad nauseam. And even then, I know I still miss mistakes. But my mistakes are my own, I have no beta, because I kind of like being solely responsible for anything I write. Right or wrong. Here it is, take it or leave it. I also talk things through things in my own head a lot, especially dialogue, or I'll open a document, and just see where that takes me. And if I'm writing a long fic, like Tuesday's, I write totally out of order when scenes come to me. I wrote on every single year of that fic all at once. Then kept writing until they'd stitched themselves together into a full story. That's my last part of writing. Putting in the transitions from one scene to the next, when needed.  Sometimes ideas are more fully formed before I start putting words to the page, and other times I literally just start and figure it out as I go. There's one fic I wrote for Steddiemas last year where I sat Steve down at a mall food court and then just started writing. I had no idea what that was going to be. (It was Eddie turning up as the Mall Santa.)  Also: Research, research, research. I love the research aspect of writing. I'm curious in general, and if I can even think to look something up to see if it's true, or of the right time period, I will. And I like to add mixed media to my fics. That was a huge part of Take the Money & Tuesday's. All the newspaper articles and such. I felt like they were needed to make it feel like this really happened to these characters we all love so much. I did newspaper articles all throughout writing Tuesday's. In fact, I think that main article, the one at the top, was written and designed very early on in the writing process. They weren't all done at the end, they were done as the story needed them.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Short paragraphs. I love 'em. You'll pry them from my cold, dead fingers. Also see: Long sentences.  Honestly, I do like to throw out the rules, a bit. I write by feel. How does it sound, to my own ear? If it works, for my character, my fic or just me in general, I'll use it. "Don't use two "ands" in a sentence." Okay, but sometimes I'm gonna when that flows the best. Or: "That's a run-on." Okay, but I like the way it reads. "You don't need a comma there." But, I like the way that it breathes, so it's getting one. All this is especially true if writing from someone's POV. I know I don't always think in proper grammar, and I don't expect them to either. I don't want things to feel hard to read, but I do want them to feel natural. If that makes sense. I walk around, pacing as I write or edit on my phone, as if the moving somehow lets me see it differently. I think it does! And I don't know if this is a quirk, but some of the characterizations formed while writing Tuesday's have stuck, hard. Gareth is Gareth Jones, and where you find him, you'll probably find Di. Freak is Goodie. Jeff is Jeff Williams. These things have been decided in my brain, and now I feel compelled to take them with me, fic-to-fic. I didn't intend to build a headcanon I wouldn't be able to shake, but here we are.  I feel like I can transplant Steve and Eddie anywhere, into anything, and be comfortable changing things up. But the Corroded Coffin boys are cemented, as they were created, for the most part. Maybe that's because I did have to do so much shaping for them. Steve and Eddie, we know. We're all working off a decent amount of canon content. Corroded Coffin only had a few moments on screen to help flesh any of us flesh them out into real characters. And now that I've made my choices, for good or bad, they're here to stay.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Finished, definitely. My three long fics were all mostly written before I started posting, and I still struggled to get the last part of All of Across the Universe out in a timely fashion. Tuesday's was posted over one week, one chapter per day, and I really enjoyed that fast schedule. It didn't give me any extra time to overthink the finished product. It was going out, and that was that. I had to trust that I knew what I was doing when I deemed it finished.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. I truly thought I was done after Take the Money and Run. And then this idea slapped me in the face, and I spent five months just lost in their world. These versions of the characters came so naturally, and they are still with me today. I feel like most of what I've written since then is shaped by those versions. Also, that was the last fic I wrote without anything else coming down the pipe. The last one before I joined Tumblr. The last one that had my full, and utter, undivided attention. It's really special to me, and I'm beyond grateful to everyone that has embraced it and recommended it to friends. I know it's got some scary warnings, but for those that have dove in and let me know that it spoke to you in some way, you've made me so happy. It spoke to me, too.

How did you get the idea for Tuesday's Gone With the Wind?

By watching the documentary "If I Leave Here Tomorrow" about the band Lynyrd Skynyrd. As I was watching it, there was an interview section where one of the band members spoke about their assistant road manager, saying: "He was like a bartender roadie. Where he took care of us really good, you know? Anybody who was sick, or needed a little more attention, he was just there for you. He was like the big brother, and sister, and your mama and everything." My brain whispered, Steve Harrington.  And that was that. Corroded Coffin were going to get Road Manager Steve Harrington, and he was gonna take care of them as they headed towards this unavoidable disaster. I wrote like 5k words the first night. It was just in there, waiting to spill out, somehow. And I think it's also an anomaly for me, but I'm fairly certain I started that fic with what turned out to be the opening. That first bit of Eddie's first interview section. I think that's where I started telling the story, and it held throughout. That's pretty rare for me. (Fun fact: I wrote all the interview bits in a separate document, and then just fit and tweaked them into the story, as needed. But not that opening. That was the launch pad into everything else.)

When writing Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, what was something you didn’t expect?

It's not exactly a Steddie answer, but - Gareth! Gareth Jones, my beloved. I wasn't on Tumblr when I wrote Tuesday's or any other social media in a fandom way. I was in my own bubble, doing my own thing. So, I didn't know the fandom had given him a fanon surname. I chose my own, and now he's just Gareth Jones to me, and always will be. He's also Eddie's best friend. I've pondered on more than one occasion on if Take the Money and Run would be different if I knew that first, lol. Just exploring my version of a character that had so little screen time to work off was incredibly fun. And has remained fun. Gareth is definitely gonna show up again in my future works. He's to Eddie, as Robin is to Steve in my head now and forevermore.

What inspired Take the Money and Run?

These lyrics from the song "Me and Paul" by Willie Nelson: Almost busted in Laredo But for reasons that I'd rather not disclose But if you're staying in a motel there and leave Just don't leave nothing in your clothes I had a literal shower thought that made me laugh. And thought, well, why are they even in a motel? Oh, they must be on a road trip. So, I wrote that little scene mainly in my head, but jotted it down, just in case, and assumed that was the end of it. But then I just kept writing it. Until I was knee deep in maps and mileage and research trying to figure this road trip out from a logistics standpoint. All because I thought it'd be funny if Eddie left weed in his pants and Steve got all put upon because of it.

What was your favorite part to write from You Oughta Know?

I loved getting to include all the fun 90s things, since that's when I was a teen, and can remember a lot of it very distinctly, first-hand. And I loved getting to use El's powers to look in on Eddie, so while they might not know where he is, they did know that he seemed to be doing okay out there in the world. Also, if I could go back and change one thing about it, I'd fix that I said Eddie's never had an acoustic guitar. I didn't notice his acoustic in his room until my re-watch. Oh well. This version of Eddie didn't, I guess, lol. (This might be from the second part, Eddie's POV. But still. It's my Roman Empire. I think of this mistake at least once a week and beat myself up. If I'd been on Tumblr at the time, I feel this would have never happened, because someone would have blogged about it, drawing my attention to it, surely.)

How do/did you feel writing Never Not Mine?

This one is heavily inspired by the Taylor Swift song imgonnagetyouback. It was fun to dig into a slightly angstier world for a bit. Because things don't always work out, or if they do, not always the first time around. I like to think they'll find each other again, in any universe, but they might not take the easiest path. They aren't perfect, and that's realistic.

What was the most difficult part of writing Let the Boy Be Merry?

Crying while writing it. This one slapped me around a little while writing. Life isn't always as romantic as fic leads us all to believe which, the audacity, honestly, lol, but the kind of love and relationship in this fic? That feels real to me. Old, and familiar, and even as well as you know a person, you can't read their mind. You don't always get what the other needs immediately, you don't get how important things can be to them, but figuring out how to compromise is love. Real, lasting love.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This question was hard! I'm gonna pick two from Tuesday's: For the first, I cried while writing and then cried again while editing the scene where Eddie and Steve hash out how serious their relationship is, and realize they've kind of been on different pages. There are two scenes in Tuesday's that got to me, and made me cry while writing them, over and over, and I don't even know why. (The other is Gareth picking that fight with Steve. Yeah, yeah, I know. Neither of these parts are the saddest parts of Tuesday's. But they stripped me raw, for whatever reason.) And a second, more fun, favorite: I'm gonna go with the scene where Eddie's naked and tripping on mushrooms in the backyard while Steve hangs out with him, and Eddie thinks they've written "Tom Sawyer" by Rush. That was so fun, and just a feel good write, if that makes sense. That whole summer they spent at the lake I look back on writing fondly. They are so in love there. They are all happy. And this scene is carefree in a way that they won't always be, due to circumstances coming down the pipe.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I run @corrodedcoffinfest and I've got a whole list of planned pop-up events coming up over the next few months for that. Steddie is absolutely welcome, so if anyone would like a little more Corroded Coffin works in their life, consider coming to join us! I also finally updated my masterlist, so everything I've written for Stranger Things is finally gathered together. There's a lot that's still only on Tumblr and not on Ao3 at this point.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thanks so much for including me and my works in this! And to the person who nominated me, thank you, thank you! You really made my day. It was fun to think about these fics again, and answer these questions. I've really enjoyed writing for Steddie, and I've also enjoyed making friends in the fandom. Thanks for welcoming me. Thanks for showing my fics love, and commenting or leaving kudos or reblogging. Just, thank you all so much. And I'm sorry if these answers were too long, lol. As a habitual "end notes" kind of writer, that's just the way I roll. 

Thank you to our author, @thisapplepielife, and our anonymous nominator! See more of thisapplepielife's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[steddieas-shegoes]

you belong in a boat out at sea

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event prompt 'sloth'

rated e | 1313 words | no cw | tags: gareth and di established relationship, masturbation, vaginal fingering, gareth does his favorite thing in the world: eats his wife out

You guys. If you know me at all, you know how much I fucking LOVE Tuesday’s Gone With the Wind. You may also know how much I love Gareth, and especially in this fic and all fics within this universe. I also super love his wife in this universe, Di, who is maybe my dream wife also. I have never wanted to be a third for a fictional couple more than these two. Di is the OC of all time, brought to you by @thisapplepielife herself.

I got permission from her to post this because ultimately this is based on those two within the Tuesday's universe. It can certainly be enjoyed without knowing anything about that universe, but it's just them. I am so happy she let me "play in her sandbox" as she likes to say. I hope I've done both of them justice!

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

He’s not moving from this spot all day.

“I’m not moving from this spot today,” Gareth groans as he pulls the blanket over his head.

He’s in a hammock on a dock of the private home he’s renting for their tenth anniversary and Di’s standing in the doorway watching him. He can’t see her but he knows she’s smiling. She hasn’t stopped smiling since they got here.

“Might be hard to enjoy the water from there,” she’s definitely smirking. He can picture it. He smiles to himself because he knows she’s gonna make him move from this spot.

“I can enjoy the water tomorrow,” he says anyway, because he likes pushing her buttons just a little, just enough for her to push back.

“Might be hard to enjoy me.”

Gareth opens his eyes and shoves the blanket off his head. He can feel his hair sprouting off in every direction, looking ridiculous.

Di is standing next to the hammock with a hand on her hip, her other hand playing with the hem of the beach coverup she bought at the airport when they landed. He must’ve missed when she snuck off to change.

“I can enjoy you anywhere.”

Which is sweet, but probably not completely true. He’s a little restricted in a hammock, even though he’d be willing to give it his best go. He’s not sure what the weight limit is on this thing, actually, so maybe he should-

“Enjoy me in the hot tub, then.”

He wants to be lazy, he wants to take a load off after a long flight. The longest he’s taken since- well. Since. He desperately wants to eat out his wife, make her come in every private space they have here. But he really wants to stay in this hammock for a while.

“You’re not getting up, are you?” She asks, but she doesn’t sound upset, just amused.

She knows him. She’s had a lot of time to know him.

“I can get up,” he says, not moving.

“I didn’t ask if you can, I asked if you are,” she’s laughing now, and it’s sweet and loving, even though she’s teasing. That’s one of the best things about her; She can keep him on his toes while keeping him grounded.

“I am.” He pauses for dramatic effect, something he probably got from Eddie at some point over the last two decades. “When I have to.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

And she will. She does.

She’s waited for him before, for longer than he deserved. She’s waited for him at doctor’s appointments and physical therapy and regular therapy. She’ll wait for him to be lazy now. This is nothing compared to the waiting she’s done.

But Gareth’s thinking about what she’s doing while she’s waiting.

Di likes to get herself going, more than any other woman Gareth’s ever been with. She almost likes it more than when he does it for her. He doesn’t complain. Watching her touch herself, arch her back, get herself wet, it’s all perfect. And she loves when he watches, when he’s touching his own dick while she’s stretching herself open on three fingers.

She’s probably doing that now, alone in the hot tub, the heat making her glisten with sweat while she teases her entrance, circles her clit. She likes to take her time, she likes when he takes his time. She’s a romantic at heart, even when they get hot and heavy.

She likes to bask in the feelings. Gareth does too. How can he not when she looks and sounds the way she does?

He decides turning his head won’t take too much energy. He can see the hot tub from the hammock. He sees her head leaned back, eyes closed, lips parted. One arm is resting along the side of the hot tub.

Her cheeks are flushed pink and he knows exactly where her other hand is.

Today was supposed to be a lazy day, he’d already said so. She knew he’d be tired when they got here.

She’s an evil temptress sent from the depths of hell specifically for him.

Or she’s an angel sent from heaven and he did something out of this world to deserve her.

She lets out a moan and he decides being lazy could just mean she sits on his face while he licks her pussy for an hour. As long as he’s horizontal, he would actually prefer that activity.

He gets up slowly, carefully. He didn’t think about how hard it would be to get out of the damn hammock.

When he looks back at her, her eyes are open and she’s smiling lazily at him. She knows exactly what she’s doing and he loves her for it. He can’t even complain about his ruined plans when she’s looking at him like this, like she’s desperate for his touch instead of her own.

She’s damn good at making herself feel good, but Gareth’s better.

He takes his time getting into the hot tub. The last thing he needs is to fall and hit his head. Steve would never let him hear the end of it.

“Decided to join me?” She asks breathlessly. He realizes quickly she’s close and he doesn’t know how she got there so fast.

“Here to take over,” he says as he closes in, gets in her space so he can feel every muscle jump when she moves her fingers deeper inside her. “Even though I’m supposed to be lazy today. Sleep in a hammock. Sleep on the couch. Sleep on the bed.”

He pulls her hand away as he speaks and replaces her fingers with his own. She throws her head back and laughs around a groan as he curls his fingers and starts rubbing his thumb against her clit. She’s not gonna last long.

“You can sleep later.”

She’s moving her hips in circles, making sure he gets to the right parts of her, as if he doesn’t know where they are. As if he hasn’t had every inch of her body memorized for so long it’s a part of him.

She’s clenching around his fingers before he can respond, smiling at the sky as he watches her climax.

“Was it that good or did you work yourself up too much?” He asks without pulling his fingers out. He’s not done yet, and he knows she isn’t either.

“Both. Always both, babe.”

She pushes his hand away and stands. He whines pitifully because he just got out of the hammock to be here. He wasn’t ready to get out of here yet.

She doesn’t go far though.

She sits on the wider edge of the hot tub, spreads her legs, and pulls her bathing suit bottoms to the side. Gareth licks his lips.

He could spend days just doing this, worshiping her while the sun kisses their skin, making her feel good, loving her the way he was always meant to. He’ll never stop loving her in the way she deserves.

He leans in and licks a teasing stripe against her cunt, smiling when she yelps. She’s still sensitive from her last orgasm. It won’t take much to get her there again.

He wouldn’t care if it took forever.

His tongue may get tired eventually, but for now, he’s willing to work her over until they’re both numb and shaking. Nothing makes him happier than tasting her, feeling her pussy flutter around his tongue when he finally breaches her entrance, watching her chest move faster.

He’s was supposed to be lazy today. They both were supposed to. It was almost a direct order from Steve and Eddie.

But if he were lazy, he wouldn’t be able to feel Di tremble through a second orgasm from his tongue. If he were lazy, he wouldn’t have her riding his cock on the lounge chair.

He’d rather not be lazy today.