#is it because i live in a trailer park sir

[weepingseraphstranger]

Y'all Austin basically just called me a brokie. I can't stand his ass.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝓃ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃ℯ𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒶 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

barrys little sister!reader x rafe, she’s naive, innocent, a bit dumb.

You sat on the chair in front of your desk, looking into your vanity mirror with focused eyes as you applied your lip gloss.

You pocketed it after, your eyebrows furrowed when you heard a knock on the door. Your brother was still selling, and he had always had specific instructions to not open the door when he’s not home.

You jumped when the person began banging now, shouting Barry’s name. You were torn, not sure whether or not to disobey your brother.

He shouted even louder, making you sigh and stand up. What’s the worst that could happen? You went over to the door, opening it so there was a crack.

“Hello?” You murmured, peeking through the crack of the door.

“Is he here?” The man asked, his voice urgent. You opened the door wider now, shaking your head at him.

His eyes widened when you opened the door. You were dressed in a pink juicy jacket, your lacy bra peeking out under along with miss me jeans, all things you had luckily found at some garage sale nearby.

And Jesus, if you weren’t the most precious thing he’s ever set his eyes on.

He stammered as he mumbled out an apology, beginning to walk away before you said something.

“Wait, sir!” You spoke, remembering how he also would never want to lose a customer, especially not because of you.

“Yeah?” He turned around.

“Are you- a friend of his, or something?”

He paused. “Something like that, yeah…” he said, his hands scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if you stay here, just until he comes back. He’s out with some other guy right now.” You said with a small shrug, a smile on your face.

It’s as if you were a siren, because he didn’t know why, but he found himself drifting closer to you, shutting the door as he followed you inside.

“You want… coffee or something? Water?” You asked him as you went over to the counter, grabbing some chocolate milk from the fridge and pouring it into the cup.

“Uh.. no- no thanks.” He said, his hands on his knees as he sat on the couch.

You sat onto the other one, not noticing his staring while you drunk the chocolate milk.

“Uhm… if you don’t mind me asking, I’ve never seen you here before, and I know he never lets his girls stay-“

“Ew! No, no, no.” You quickly protested before he could finish, almost spitting out your drink. “I’m his sister.” You said with a giggle, his cheeks turned a light pink.

“Shit- ‘f course. I’m sorry.” He said with a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay. I live here, but usually I’m just in my room, and he tells me not to come out when people come over.”

“He never.. mentioned he had a sister. And he definitely didn’t mention he had one who was as pretty as you.” He spoke, his attempt at flirting clearly working when he saw your eyes widen and a small smile spreading across your face.

There was the sound of a motorcycle outside, stepping up to the trailer and going to unlock the door when he finds out it’s already open.

Barry furrowed his eyebrows when he opened the door to see you and Rafe fucking Cameron sitting there.

“The fuck is he doing in here? And what did I tell you about leaving this damn door unlocked? What the hell, y/n?” He said, voice booming.

You looked at him. “I’m sorry! He was banging on the door, and I was trying to do my hair. I can’t do that with all that noise!”

Barry sighed, shaking his head before waving his hand.

“Whatever, just- just go back in the fuckin’ room.” He said, making you huff and storm into the room.

“You never mentioned you had a sister.” Rafe spoke.

“I didn’t for a reason, country club.” Barry mumbled out when he noticed Rafe’s staring , already pulling out a bag full of the white powder.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

A few days later, you were walking around the trailer park, simply saying hello and enjoying the nice weather. Rafe came up, presumably going to Barry. But you stopped him.

“Hey, Rafe!” You said with a smile again.

“Hey, sweetheart. He not here again?” He asked, nodding to the trailer..

“No. Out again. I’m so bored. That’s why I’m out here.”

“How long is he gonna be out?”

“I dunno… but he said he’d be a while.” You said with a shrug.

“It’s too late for a girl like yourself to be outside, you know? I think he would want me to bring you back inside.”

You sighed. “He would say the exact same thing.” You told Rafe with a pout, he just chuckled and put a hand on the small of your back, leading you back to your trailer.

“Uh, I should get going, I guess..” he told you, standing in front of the door now. You watched him begin to leave before you spoke again.

“Wait!” You said, stopping him like you did a few days before.

He turned around, eyebrows furrowed.

“Stay and keep me company? I think he wouldn’t want you leaving his little sister all alone.”

A grin making its way onto his face, he nodded. His plan was working.

Rafe and you sat back on the couch now, your legs propped up on the couch as you switched through the cable channels.

Rafe watched your every move with hungry eyes. He knew he needed to have you, and he would.

[a-small-safe-place]

New Addition

Platonic!Yandere Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham w/ Child!Reader

You knocked on the door of the large house Hannibal had picked out for him and Will to live in. It was out of the way from the town, so it was odd to receive a knock. Luckily, it was Will that answered rather than Hannibal. The other kids in town said the men who lived in this house liked to kidnap badly behaving girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. But this man didn’t seem scary. He seemed nice as he scolded their dogs for running out of the house.

“Hello, mister, I’m selling chocolate-covered pretzel sticks for my school and wanted to see if you would like to buy one?” You asked, trying to sound confident but sounding shaky instead. He didn’t seem to mind; he seemed happy you were there. “I happen to love chocolate-covered pretzels, but my husband thinks they are too simple to be a good treat. Let’s see what flavors you have.” He begins looking through the flavors you brought when his husband, Hannibal, silently walks up behind the other man. “Who is this?” He asks Will.

“Oh, this is… uh…” You stop him and introduce yourself and again explain why you are there. “This is quite a ways away from the town; surely you did not walk all the way here.” Hannibal questions. “No, sir, I rode my bike. I knew there were a few houses out this way, and I was determined to visit.”

Your determination pleases Hannibal but slightly concerns him. You’re an innocent child. You can’t be out riding your bike on these secluded roads. Will quits digging in the pretzel box, “I have to go get dog food anyway; I could bring you back to town. We will take the whole box of your pretzels since you came all this way out here.” Hannibal seems mildly annoyed by this. You remember that Will said Hannibal thinks they are too simple. Will leaves you alone with Hannibal to grab some cash. “Would you like to step inside? You’ll get sick out there.” Hannibal asks. You gratefully step in. “Your home is pretty.” You observe, earning a soft approving smile from Hannibal.

“Thank you, not many people your age appreciate style. Though you don’t seem like many people your age.” After he finishes talking, you try to stay quiet, and finally, Will returns, giving you the money for your entire box of pretzels. “Now I’m heading into town; would you like a ride?” Will offers. “Yes, please.” You tell him.

The ride back is quiet until he begins to talk. “Most kids avoid our house for their fundraisers. Do you know why?” You glance nervously, “I think it’s just too far.” It’s an obvious lie. “You don’t have to worry about being polite. I know there’s probably a crazy rumor about Hannibal and me.” You stay silent, but the silence is too loud to handle, “All the kids think you and Dr. Lecter like to kidnap and girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”

“Well, maybe that’s why I needed all those sweet pretzels, so Dr. Lecter and I could finish building our cottage made of candy.” He seems a little sad at the revelation of this rumor. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything.” He smiles and says, “Don’t worry about it. You could make it up to me by telling me how this rumor got started.”

“One of the boys that graduated high school last year told his little brother that he broke into your home on a dare and found human meat in the freezer, but he couldn’t go to the police because he was trespassing and he was high.” You finish explaining. Will smiles a bit, but it has a nervous edge this time, “Do you think we eat bad girls and boys?” You think about it, “no, because you had a bunch of times where you could have killed and eaten me.”

“Are you a bad kid?” Will asks teasingly. “I don’t know. I get in trouble sometimes. My house is in town away, in a trailer park.” Will knew which trailer park. It was “the bad part of town” he knew because he saw the crime statistics for that area and the number of times the cops are called out there. He had seen them the few times he and Hannibal helped with the local law. Hannibal had gotten close with the town’s political figures, and Will had basically been made into an honorary detective with the law enforcement. This town was corrupt to its core, but it was away from the prying eyes of the FBI, and it’s the only place Hannibal and Will could agree on geographically. Will’s only stipulation was that there were good places to fish.

Eventually, you make it to the trailer. Will waits until you make it inside. He cannot help but think about Abigail. He could have had a potential family with Hannibal if things had gone correctly. He was happy with Hannibal and the dogs, but something about you made him want more.

Weeks pass, and he does not bring the topic up to Hannibal. Little did he know Hannibal had been keeping an extra close eye on you. He did it under the guise of getting more pretzels for Will and then special ordering one of the unique flavors that you did not have so he could come back around to "check on the order." Will finds this all out when you see him in the store and give him the order Hannibal had placed.

"That kid from the other day gave me the order you placed," Will says placing the box on the table. "I thought you hated junk food."

"I do; they were a surprise for you. You seem to have taken a liking to the child." Hannibal observes. "They're a good kid. They kind of remind me of Abigail." The room becomes silent for a second too long. Hannibal hates it when Will brings up Abigail. "You seem to like the kid too. You went out of your way to find them to order the pretzels when there were plenty of easier options to order from." Hannibal knows he has been caught.

"They're a well-behaved child, very polite. Like Abigail." Hannibal says somewhat pointedly. "Have you thought about us expanding our family? Not with another dog, but with a human?" Hannibal asks before Will has time to respond to the first statement.

"I hadn't, and then that kid came knocking at the door, and since then, it is all I can think about. But I don't want any kid. Our kid from the trailer park seems to be the best fit; it has to be them." Will explains, hoping that Hannibal will understand.

"Then so be it; they will be our child for us to protect," Hannibal says as if this is a normal conversation.

As the two men begin to work on a plan to add you to their family, their fatherly love for you grows more into fatherly obsession. You're their kid; no one gets to hurt you. Once you're safe and comfortable in their home, no one but them will get to be around you until they know you love them just as much. Hannibal wastes no time putting your room together with all of your favorite things. They were going to make your room the same way it is in the trailer until Hannibal saw the state of your room and became disgusted by the idea of that kind of room being in his expensive house.

Will tries to make a plan to make your transition to their house easier. He finds all kinds of games and activities you are sure to love, even the ones that Hannibal is convinced are bad for your growing brain.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 33

part 1 | part 32 | ao3

Chapter 8

cw: period-typical attitudes/language

"Steve," Robin hisses through the phone, and he can practically hear her nostrils flaring. "I have been trapped at Uncle Bobby and Aunt Deb's house for six. days." She drops her voice to a harsh whisper, the tone somehow even more disapproving at a lower volume. "HOW have you not kissed him yet??"

"It's not like I didn't try!" Steve throws his hands up; nearly knocks his broom to the floor. He's finally sweeping up the shards of glass in the living room, because he's tired of wearing shoes in his own house (and because at some point he's going to have to have the kids over whether he wants to or not. He's kind of surprised Erica hasn't shown up demanding to hang Christmas lights yet; that girl is aggressively festive.) "He was all 'ask me in the morning,' so I was gonna ask him in the morning! Not my fault it was Monday morning and his stupid uncle barged in yelling about how he was going to be late for school."

"You really shouldn't call him stupid," she interrupts, "that man is a saint."

"No, you’re right. Wayne's awesome."

It’s true. Wayne walked in on them that morning, like, fully spooning in their sleep — Eddie pressed all along Steve's back with an arm over his waist, their ankles intertwined — and rather than beat Steve's ass and ban him from their house like Steve expected him to, he just awkwardly grunted 'breakfast is ready' and shut the door.

"I'm always right," Robin gloats in his ear.

"You're always the worst."

"You love me." Steve hears shuffling as she adjusts the cord — probably wiggling around to lie on her stomach on the bed and kick her feet up in the air the way she likes — and then she says, "I'm still not seeing how this explains the other five whole days, though."

Jesus. Five whole days. Like she's his unimpressed boss and he’s late with the quarterly reports. "Our schedules kept not lining up! And then he went out of town with Jeff's family for the holiday."

"And you haven't called him?"

Steve glares flatly at the phone; hopes she can feel it through the line. "Literally how would I do that, Robin?"

"Well— I don't know! Maybe..." She hums in thought then snaps her fingers, talking fast. "Ooh! You could ask Wayne for the number? I mean, he'd have to know it in case he needed to reach Eddie, right?"

"Uh huh." Steve loves her solution-oriented brain, he really does, but that's one of the worst ideas he's heard in a while. (And he's including Mike and Dustin's attempted kidnapping last month.) "Yeah, let me get right on that," he snarks, switching the phone to his other ear. "I’ll just call them up and say, 'Hey, Mr. or Mrs. Jeff's Grandparents! This is Steve Harrington, may I��? Oh. Who's Steve Harrington, you ask? Nobody, sir or ma’am, just the kid who stood by and watched while his teammates gave your grandson a swirlie two years ago, so I'm sure he fucking hates me still for that! Anyway, can I please flirt with your house guest now?'"

Robin's whinnying into the receiver by the time Steve finishes his rant, and he begrudgingly laughs along with her, shaking his head as he stoops to pick up the dust pan.

"Okay," she concedes. "You may have a point."

"Thank you."

"But you still have to do something to make up for this when he gets home! Otherwise, he's going to think you're, like, having a straight boy crisis or something and get all weird."

"I'm not having a 'straight boy crisis,'" Steve rolls his eyes. He's having a bisexual boy crisis — at least, according to the three hour phone call he had with Robin the other night (which was humiliating, by the way; he never thought he'd be quietly crying tears of total confusion while saying the words 'I still likes boobies, though' out loud. Jesus Christ. Sexuality is embarrassing.) "And I already have a grand gesture in mind, anyway."

"Oh?" Robin perks up. "Do tell."

"I was thinking we could, like..." Hmm. It's sounding less grand when he goes to say it out loud. "Well, shit, I don't know. I thought we could go to one of his shows together when you get back, but now that sounds kind of lame?"

“No, that's good! That's perfect, actually. We can get a whole group together to go support him, then he'll see that you're not embarrassed to be seen around him with your friends."

"Wait, was that a concern?" Oh, god. He dumps more glass into the trash can; hisses when a little shard gets his fingertip; sucks the wound into his mouth. "Are you sure it’s not-? I mean, I want him to know I mean it in a romantic way, not just a friendly gesture."

"Well, yeah, obviously. But you can't just go by yourself; his bandmates hate you."

Oh, right. “Yeah.” That would be pretty awkward to loiter in a booth by himself all night while Jeff and Gareth and the other kid glare daggers at him. "Do you think you could get a group together? If I do it…"

"…We'll be hanging out with a group of dorky freshman all night?”

"Rude."

"Accurate."

"You know what? Tell Deb and Bobby they can keep you."

"Ah!" Robin gasps. "You would turn to stone like a troll in the sun without me, and you know it!"

Man, he misses her. "Yeah, I know it." He puts the broom back up on the hook. "When ya comin' home?"

"Soon, I hope. I swear to god if I have to hear Deb and Patty fight over the leftovers one more time—!" She cuts herself off with a strangled noise, and Steve laughs at her plight. "Anyway, yes. I'll ask some friends at school—"

"—Is one of those friends Vickie?"

“I can multi-task; shut up."

"I love you," he smiles.

"Love you, too, dingus.” Her voice dips soft and sincere for just a second; there and gone. “Hey, I have to go, Carrie wants the phone.”

“You have too many relatives.”

“Ugh, I know. Okay. Leaving for real now; can't wait to see you for Operation Woo Your Man!”

"Robin, no-!”

“Got to go byeeeee.”

“We’re not calling it that!” He holds the phone out with both hands so he can yell into the receiver. “Robin? Robin!"

The line's already dead.

—

part 34

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[scoops-aboy86]

Epilogue (Secret Admirer pt 10)

The final conclusion! Because there were some loose ends I wanted to tie up. And @hotluncheddie, you got your Polaroids. 😜

wc: 2612 / rated: T / set after season 3 / also on ao3

In the aftermath, they talk. A lot. Especially after Eddie pulls back from their kiss to gasp, “Hell yeah you can be my boyfriend, as long as I get to be yours.”

Eddie tells Steve about how much his life had changed once his dad went to prison and he’d started living with his uncle full time, and how he’d always had trouble trusting good things at first. (Which probably explains some things about the ups and downs of their relationship so far, Steve muses eventually, and Eddie sheepishly can’t help but agree.)

Steve tells Eddie that he likes the trailer a lot actually, because it feels lived-in and well-loved in a way the house he grew up in never quite has. (Which Eddie gets, because Steve had written plenty about how uncomfortable he feels there sometimes, and how he’s never had a voice in choosing the decor or layout in his own bedroom.)

Eddie shows Steve how to roll the weed he bought into pro-quality joints; he’s a good teacher, it turns out, and praises Steve so much as a student that they’re both grinning stupidly at each other well before lighting up together for the first time. 

Steve admits that Robin had spilled the beans about his secret identity. After initially establishing that she wanted to trade the valuable info for something good, the classified information slipping out right after Steve had taken the brunt of the damage at Starcourt (not a lot of details given about that, but it’s fine) seemed fair enough, Eddie can grudgingly agree. And Steve, sweetheart that he is, adds that as soon as she had he’d been struck breathless. He tells Eddie about the loan Robin is giving him and how he’s about to start looking for a place, and that the trailer park is looking more appealing by the minute. 

Eddie explains the nerd stuff he’d spouted off the night before, after manfully holding back on giggling at the garbled version Steve repeats back, and explains what a Shelob is. When it turns out to be from those books that Dustin keeps pestering him to read—which, he now knows, is not exactly the same as The Hobbit. He admits to Eddie that he doesn’t know if he can do books that long; letters are fine, those are only a few pages, but it takes a lot of concentration to stay focused on printed words for that long and, after all the concussions, it tends to give him headaches. Immediately, Eddie starts falling all over himself offering to read to him, promising to do all the voices and “It’ll be just like you’re there in Middle Earth, Stevie, I swear!” Which is cute, and Steve is absolutely going to take him up on that.

For now, he’s content to keep cuddling and talking, with occasional kisses and little squeezes whenever it hits either of them again that this is real, it’s happening. They end up spending the entire day together, haphazardly working together to make breakfast that they share with Eddie’s uncle because, well, they made a racket as well as food and woke the poor man up. Steve is about to fall all over himself apologizing for all of it, for staying over unannounced, for sleeping in his nephew’s bed under his roof which is, like, probably not cool and all… Eddie just snickers next to him while Steve babbles himself into a corner, Robin style, then slips an arm around his waist and says, “Uncle Wayne, this Steve. He drove me home last night, graciously nursed me through the consequences of my most recent poor life choices this morning, and now he’s my boyfriend. Steve, this is Wayne. He’s the best, make sure to pour his coffee in the World’s Best Uncle mug.”

Which Steve does, and Eddie winces a bit when he hands it to Wayne with an overeager, “Here you go, sir!” 

That’s one of his uncle’s pet peeves, being called sir, but he hadn’t thought to give Steve that warning earlier and then suddenly there wasn’t time. On top of that, Wayne doesn’t take kindly to being woken up before his alarm. He’s the best, but he’s also a lifelong bachelor with a regular night shift and a bad back, for all that he refuses to take the bedroom again now that Eddie isn’t a kid anymore.

Still, it could’ve gone worse. Wayne takes the mug with only a mild grumble about keeping it down, which is pretty tame for him. There will be a conversation about this in Eddie’s future, not least of which will probably be a few blunt questions about whether they used protection, because Wayne reads the same news headlines he does and Steve lives on the privileged side of town and still has a lingering reputation of getting around and Wayne doesn’t know him like Eddie does. Which, sure, Eddie has hooked up with other guys, mostly not in the trailer because it’s a shared space and he is acutely aware of how lucky he is to live here at all considering he could’ve stayed a ward of the state if Wayne hadn’t agreed to take him—and with those guys, he definitely put out on the first date. If they could be called dates. He’s going to have to explain to Wayne that Steve is different, that this is a long haul thing and that Eddie trusts him. 

And he kind of can’t wait. 

After breakfast, they hop in Steve’s car and drive out of town and break out the joints they’d rolled, cruising around with the windows down until the high starts to hit Steve and he finds a shady spot to pull over. Somewhere secluded. There’s a blanket in the trunk because of course there is; they spend a few hours out in the middle of nowhere under the trees, smoking and talking more and working their way through the snacks Steve thought to pack before they left the trailer. 

It’s not a first date though, Eddie decides, just like their technical first kiss (that he still doesn’t remember, damn it) wasn’t their First Kiss. One of them has to ask the other on a date. Which, because he’s very brave, he finally does. 

Steve responds by tackling him into the nearby grass and rolling them around in an emphatic yes until they both have green rubbed into their clothes and red bitten into their lips, giddy and laughing and boyfriends, holy shit.

~

Their first official date is a picnic that they each bring their favorites to and share. When Eddie asks Steve in advance what he’s planning on bringing, just to make sure they aren’t, like, putting wildly mismatched levels of effort into this, Steve doesn’t answer. 

He just grins playfully and hisses, “Sssssecretsss,” and waits upwards of thirty seconds while Eddie tries to place why that seems familiar. 

By the time the bottom drops out of Eddie’s brain and he remembers, Steve is already dancing gracefully back from his flailing attempts at a one-sided slap fight, the damn jock. “Steve, get back here! No, you can’t just—You can’t use my own Gollum impression on me and then leave! Where are you going? Steeeeve!”

Next time Sober Eddie sees Drunk Eddie, he’s going to strangle him.

But it’s fine, they both bring their large picnic basket (Steve) and overloaded paper grocery bag that’s so full it has to be carried from underneath rather than by the handles (Eddie) to a hill overlooking the empty fields stretching away from Hawkins at dusk. It turns out they’ve both brought lemon bars for dessert, and spend a good ten minutes playfully bickering over whose are better until it ends with sticky, powdered sugar kisses and murmured agreement to exchange recipes. 

Which means Eddie is going to have to beg the recipe off of old Mrs. Anderson a few trailers down, who is always happy to bake for folks as long as they provide the ingredients. But hey, those lemon bars are worth it. And, obviously, so is Steve.

~

Their second date is a movie night with Robin, who immediately introduces herself as, “Hi, I’m a lesbian and Steve’s unlikely best friend forever, so that makes us friends-in-law. You cool with that? Because if not, we’re about to have a problem.” 

It’s not a problem. Eddie had a decent opinion of her before and likes her immediately based on that opening shot alone. They quickly settle into a friendly argument about movie genres while Steve sits back, beaming at both of them with a happiness almost rivaling that first morning of being boyfriends. 

Not quite, but almost. 

And after, when Steve comes back after dropping Robin off at home, he leads the way to Eddie’s bedroom with a finger looped through a belt loop on the metalhead’s ripped jeans and proceeds to test out some of the things Eddie had described in his letters. Apparently going down on a girl and giving a guy head aren’t as different as Eddie would’ve thought, because Steve only needs a little guidance on what to do (or not do) with his teeth, but when it comes to fingers, lips, and tongue? Twenty out of ten, Eddie has no notes. 

He barely has a brain by the time Steve is done with him. Not that he needs it to tug his perfect, rosy-lipped, keyed-up boyfriend up to show him what a musician’s hands can really do. 

~

Wayne takes a bit longer to come around to Steve. A chance comment about some sportsball game or other gets them talking and… suddenly Eddie might not be Wayne’s favorite anymore. 

Not really, he knows somewhere behind the ridiculous grin he’s wearing, because his uncle is nothing if not loyal. Eddie’s never been interested in that stuff, and he finds watching them bond over it incomprehensible yet fascinating.

At least, until Wayne gets up to dig out the old scrapbook, saying, “Think I’ve still got some photos of the summer Ed here tried to play T-ball.” Then Eddie jumps up and hustles a very amused Steve the hell out of there, insisting that they have a schedule to keep to and Wayne is gumming up the works. 

“Aw, but Eddie, I wanted to see,” Steve teases, pretending to brace himself in the front doorway while Eddie pretends to bodily shove him through it. 

“Next time,” Wayne promises with a self-satisfied air. He never gets to do this, none of Eddie’s friends have ever shown this kind of interest and god knows he’s never brought anyone he’s attempting to date around to meet his uncle—not that there’s ever been anyone who fell in that category, before Steve. 

“Never,” Eddie hisses, trying to sound threatening. And fails, mostly because he’s busy goosing Steve to get him through the door and laughing about the affectionately affronted look it gets him. 

~

Both Eddie and Robin come with Steve when he looks for a place, and a very pleasantly surprised Eddie pays up the five dollars he owes her when by the end of the summer Steve really does pick a small trailer on the other side of Forest Hills. And sure, Steve kind of de facto shares it with one of his kids—Billy Hargrove’s little step-sister, whose mom Eddie only really saw around while they were moving in across from the Munsons, so. Yeah. But Mad Max is a cool kid, and doesn’t give them shit for being so close. He knows that Steve has always wanted younger siblings, and that one’s just the temperamental tip of the iceberg.

Which is cool, because it sounds like the boys are shoe-ins for Hellfire and Eddie has a binder full of half-formed one-shot ideas that he’s itching to whip out and take for a spin. A sentiment that, when he mentions it to Steve, somehow ends up earning him his first chance to prove just how good with his hands he can be. 

And after, when Steve shyly opens up about the six little nuggets in a Winnebago daydream he’s had ever since his parents started leaving him alone more and more often, the collection of mildly feral younger teens makes sense. They lay on the double mattress liberated from the Harrington house—currently on the floor because Steve is determined to make himself a new bed frame, the crazy bastard—with sweat cooling on bare skin and Steve’s gay cherry well and thoroughly popped in every way either of them could think of, Eddie realizes something. 

Steve’s new room features zero plaid. The curtains match nothing, not even themselves, because he let Robin pick them out and she got a little whimsical with it. There are a few band posters—some of the bands Eddie covered for his second mix tape to Steve (which he know knows was the catalyst for them getting their shit together, even though he still doesn’t really remember that part), and one of the Corroded Coffin posters that Eddie designed himself—and some movie posters that Steve can get for free once Family Video is done with them. 

Mostly, though, it’s Polaroids: of Steve and Eddie, Steve and Robin, Steve and the kids, and various other combinations. 

Eddie never expected any of this to turn out the way it had. Hadn’t felt worthy of Steve, who has generally floated through life surrounded by the finer things and white picket fence dreams. It had never occurred to him that Steve didn’t care about having nice things, he wanted nice things. Kind, supportive, good things, regardless of what they looked like on the outside. Things that make him happy. 

And the handful of candid photos Eddie took of himself for when, for whatever reason, their schedules don’t line up? He knows those make Steve very happy because they have pride of place, tucked secretly between the mattress and the wall by the head of the bed. 

~

Life is great, which is saying something considering they’re still in Hawkins, Indiana. 

Eddie’s van is all fixed—the auto shop even offered him a part-time job because he’d identified the problem just fine, just hadn’t had the equipment to fix it on his own. The guys in the band are coming around to the idea that King Steve is actually kind of a dork underneath it all, helped in part by the many, many, many stories that Dustin, Lucas, and even Mike have unloaded on them before and after the summer one-shots that constitute their trial period in Hellfire as incoming freshman. He’s got Robin, who’s sworn to be his study buddy until, as she’d once cheerfully put it, either Eddie graduates or they strangle each other. 

But mostly, he gets to be Steve Harrington’s boyfriend. They sleep at Steve’s more often than not, letting Wayne have the actual mattress instead of that shitty old cot, falling asleep tangled together and waking up the same way. (Sometimes Steve still has nightmares, still occasionally radios Robin in the middle of the night on the walkies the kids gave them—Eddie doesn’t ask, just holds Steve when he needs it. He’s letting Steve come around to telling him what happened in his own time. Even though Steve keeps assuring him, so earnest it’s a little disconcerting, that “it’s over.”)

1985 had some major ups and downs. He wouldn’t trade any of it for the world, but this coming one is going to be different. He’ll start it with a boyfriend and, goddamn it, he will finish it having finally snatched his diploma and flipping Principal Higgins the bird. From there, who knows! 

He just knows one thing’s for sure… 1986 is going to be his year.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @steviewashere @cryingglightningg @theresebelivett

@sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @swimmingbirdrunningrock

@yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites @ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr

@cheesedoctor @whalesharksart @thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging

@imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva @nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson

@greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister @dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck

@pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @kurofuckingshi16 @bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich

@the-tenth-mus-e

[mystic-orb88]

HAZBIN TRAILER OBSERVATIONS!!

Okay, so this shot tells us a lot about the geography of The Pride Ring. We see that the Hotel’s wayy out, really sending the message that the sheer concepts of hope, redemption, and everything it stands for is outcasted and rejected by the rest of the city. The Clock Tower is in the heart of the city, showing how it is the main cog in the machine. The Porn Studios building on the left, poooossibly the Cannibal Colony or Rosie’s Emporium on the lower right. There’s also a lovely balanced distinction of modernity shown in the absence or presence of neon lights dotting the buildings throughout various districts. This shows that the Sinners prefer to live in conditions similar to those of when they were alive. Heaven, as well as a weird red moon are also visible.

This looks like Cherri’s attacking the Hotel with one Hell of a pyrotechnic display (Seriously, how does one attain such a massive singular smoke bomb??) Possibly because she is aware that Sir Pentious is taking sanctuary there. Luckily Alastor’s Radio Tower looks like it came through unscathed.

Looks like Alastor and Charlie are taking a stroll in the same park in the Prequel comic.

I love how everyone looks so fake and nervous and then Razzle and Dazzle, Charlie’s lil’ protectors/assistants/plushies are just looking so pure and adorable. Actually zoom in on their faces, do it. Also, as soon as you see Husks face, the frame can officially get worse. Also there’s a bag of drugs or.. something on the table, I’m guessing PCP knowing Angel. It bears resemblance to the bag in the pilot.

It’s also here, on the right side of Lucifer. So we now know some sort of celebration was at the Hotel, and Lucifer visited. Decorations are still up.

Travis. What the Hell’s he doin’ there?? Love to see him back for a gag. Also, someone try and read that script. There’s a memo or mail box on the side that is overflowing. This building looks similar to a setting in R2NinjaTurtle’s Valentino Board Animatic. Same with Vox’s Tv Screen Lair Thingy.

Nice shot from the ‘Happy Day in Hell’ Song number of the Cannibal town with a lovely late 1800s-early 1900s theme. Bring back this fashion, or like a cool, modern-inspired version. Please. Also, there’s a lil’ Chimney Sweep who looks like this very Dick Van Dyke-inspired O.C. I drew a while ago (maybe it is him, you decide).

Alastor took the trouble of talking to this nice overlord chap while filming this nice man who is in the process of committing unspontaneous combustion.

This shrunken voodoo head is here, while Alastor and a nice lady with a dead fox scarf and an oversized version of Voldemort’s wand repurposed as a cane are in the background.

Just appreciation for how perfectly this frame captures their personalities.

Charlie: You’re doing awesome, my script is great, isn’t it? I’m so happy at this moment.

Vaggie: I’m too tired for this crud.

Angel: I’ve read some real interesting scripts in my time but none as terrible as this one. Also someone get me outta this coat, it’s filthy an’ it reeks of the 40’s.

Niffty: *gremlin* Seriously, stop looking at him like that girl.

Husk: How the f*** did I end up here?? It’ll all be over soon.

Alastor. How to sit like a sir while plotting unavoidable carnage.

Pentious: Lollypop, lollypop oohh lolly lollypop, lolly pop, lolly pop- WHERE DID HIS HAT EYE GO?? WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT IT?? IS IT LIKE AN EXTENSION OF HIMSELF, LIKE HOW ALASTOR CAN MAKE HIS MICROPHONE DISAPPEAR UP HIS SLEEVE??

Nothing much about this one, it’s just one of my favourite frames in the trailer. I absolutely love how expressively and awesomely animated Alastor is here. Really captures his theatrical tone. And we get a snippet of Rosie’s voice!! Also the song is FIREE. It will hit so hard when it comes out and further context is given.

[artiststarme]

Van Vandalism

The not-so-long-awaited van vandalism fic based on this snippet! I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any title ideas, please let me know in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Eddie was having a rough time. While the events of Spring Break were in his rearview, he was still facing the consequences of being branded a freak murderer by the police in a small town. The overzealous Christian townsfolk, now aware of his glaring differences and eccentricities, seemed to make it a goal to make his life as hard as possible. Eddie could hardly leave his trailer without being chased with metaphorical pitchforks. Whether it be by threatening to kick his ass at school or vandalizing his van in the grocery store parking lot, the people of Hawkins were relentless. Eddie didn’t really care about the threats to his own safety or even some minor beatings, he’d gotten used to it through his years of high school. 

However, when the townsfolk started to come after Wayne is when Eddie got concerned. Wayne had lived in Hawkins his entire life and now the people that he grew up with, the people he was friends with, were turning on him because of Eddie. They were spray painting nasty words on the trailer, slashing the tires on the van, and smashing the windows on Wayne’s truck. And Eddie and Wayne? They were losing their patience. They didn’t have the extra money to fix the windows or keep replacing tires. Wayne was pulling doubles at the plant to try to bring in some more money and Eddie was picking up shifts at the garage but they still weren’t bringing in enough to cover for the damages. 

One day after school, Eddie came out of the building to find all four of his tires slashed. He couldn’t even safely walk home either because old Herbert Green and his son had threatened to jump him the day before. So, he stood on the curb staring at his van for three minutes before tears started to drip down his face. 

He didn’t deserve any of this. He didn’t hurt anyone. All he’d ever done was try to create a safe space for outsiders, the people that couldn’t feel safe anywhere else, and now he was paying the price. He wasn’t a murderer! He was just a gay metalhead kid who liked nerdy shit and couldn’t focus in school. But in the minds of all the townspeople, everything about him was grounds for a lifetime in prison. 

He was still staring at his van when he felt a hand wrap around his upper arm. Eddie didn’t even think before spinning around with a fist in the air. 

“Woah,” Steve said as he ducked out of the way of the punch. “Jesus Christ, Munson! I can’t get another concussion, do you even know what Robin would do to me?” 

Eddie sighed in response and sagged against his van, Steve’s hand still wrapped around his bicep. “Sorry dude, you scared me. I wasn’t expecting Sir Steve to be back at his abandoned castle. Which quest hast summoned you to return to your former dwelling?”

Steve’s eyes squinted like they always did when he tried to translate Eddie’s language into modern English. God, it was one of Eddie’s favorite things about him. After a moment, the squint left his eyes and his mouth opened in understanding.

“You, man. The kids called and said the basketball team fucked up your tires. Thought you could use a ride,” Steve said and shrugged. He was still wearing the ugly Family Video vest over a gray polo that hugged his shoulders in all of the right places. “Eddie?”

He shook his head to snap out of it. No straight guy wanted their gay, albeit still in the closet, friend checking them out when they’re trying to do them a favor. Or so Eddie would imagine. 

“Um, yeah. Yes please. I do need a ride. This is the third time they’ve pulled this shit and I won’t be able to afford new tires for a good three weeks. Fuck, how am I going to get to work now?”

Steve hummed before lightly smacking Eddie’s shoulder and ignoring his affronted glare. “I know! You can use my car! I mean, you’ll have to drop me off at work before school and pick me up after but other than that, I don’t really go anywhere anyways. You can just take the Beemer to work, school, and wherever else you go.”

Eddie was absolutely dumbfounded. Sure, he and Steve had become good friends after Spring Break but he was going to inconvenience himself by letting him take his car? “Stevie, I can’t take your car. What if you need it? It’s too much-”

“Eddie. Look man, you can use it for however long you need to. If I need it back, I’ll call you for the keys, okay? Just give me rides to work and pick up the kids if they need to go somewhere. The little shits aren’t riding their bikes anymore.” Steve told him and pressed his keys into the palm of Eddie’s hand. “Now, leave the van for now and give me a ride back to the video store, I still have 6 hours left on my shift and if I’m not back by the end of my break, Keith is going to lose his shit.”

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. He still couldn’t believe that Steve “The Hair” Harrington was actually a good dude. He’d dragged his sorry ass out of hell, lied to the cops to be his alibi, and now was loaning him his car just to make Eddie’s life easier. How’d he get so lucky as to have Steve in his life? Now if only he could get him to switch from the Tears for Fears moaning from the speakers to Metallica. 

When they pulled up to Family Video, Eddie made a move to get out but Steve just grabbed his arm with a, “hey, wait. Where are you going? Your shift at the garage starts in 20 minutes.”

“Yeah so I have to go. If I start running now, I can make it before my lungs give out and kill me.” Eddie said, shaking him off.

“Dude. I was serious about you taking my car, I wasn’t just going to have you go out of your way to drive me to work in my own car. Take it and be back to pick me up at 11:30, okay? Have a good shift,” Steve murmured, patting Eddie’s hand and running into the store. 

And then Eddie was left in the car alone, utterly bewildered and still reeling at Steve’s generosity. But he did have to go to work so off he went. Driving in the Beemer was a lot different than driving in the van. Firstly, there were no weird banging sounds coming from underneath the hood or any screeching noises of the brakes. The ride was silent aside from the horrendous pop music squealing from the radio station Steve had left on low. Next, the ride went smoother. Eddie didn’t have any jocks tailgating him or blonde-haired mothers glaring at him from the curb. He did receive a couple of double takes when other drivers realized it wasn’t Steve Harrington driving his signature Beemer but Eddie enjoyed the looks of shocked befuddlement. Huh, maybe Steve was onto something.  

(What Eddie didn’t know is that everyone that took a double-take wasn’t wondering why Eddie Munson was driving his car but instead, when had Steve gotten back together with Nancy Wheeler?)

When Eddie finished his shift at the garage though and made his way to pick up Steve from work, goddamn Officer Callahan pulled him over. He hated this fucking guy. He especially hated how cocky he looked as he strolled up to the driver’s side window and leaned against it. 

Eddie could only glare at him completely unimpressed as he asked, “can I help you, Officer?”

“Why, as a matter of fact, I think you can! You see, all day we’ve been getting calls of a curly-haired imposter joy-riding around in Steve Harrington’s BMW. Can you explain that?” Officer Callahan was smirking as he explained himself, obviously finding joy in interrupting Eddie’s peaceful night. 

“I’m not joyriding, I went to work and now I’m picking him up from work. Steve lent me his car because someone slashed my tires for the third time this month. You’d know about that though, right? You know, considering I’ve tried to file a report each time. You ever going to do anything about that by the way?” Eddie rebutted. 

“You expect me to believe that Steve Harrington let you, Eddie Munson, borrow his car? How much grass have you smoked?” 

Eddie just sighed in frustration. “Look Callahan, I’ve tried to be nice but you’re pissing me off. Here I am, a law-abiding citizen, and you’re just accusing me of these heinous crimes? Grand theft auto, drug use, what’s next… murder? Oh wait! We’ve been there and I was found innocent of that too! Let me leave or next time I see the Chief, I’m going to tell him that his least favorite deputy was harassing me. Do you want Hopper mad at you? Is that what you need in your life?”

“What… um no. You don’t have to do that. Just, just get where you’re going and make sure Harrington gives us a call at the station about his car. Um, have a good uh night,” Officer Callahan said while awkwardly ambling back to his car. 

Then, Eddie was off again. This time with heavy metal blasting through the Beemer speakers and through the open windows into the wind. He was going to pick up Stevie and treat him to a night full of movies, weed, and junk food like he deserved.

@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @trippypancakes @straight4joekeery

(@anzelsilver you're the only person who reblogged the snippet so here's a tag to the whole fic!)

[verdemoun]

Hiii I wanted to ask what you think happens to Micah in the timewarp au cause modern Micah is such an enigma and it's so funny to me. Do you think he's coping well with modern times? Or does he just respawn and immediately tries robbing a mc Donald's or smth. Could def see him doing Florida man throwing an alligator through a Wendy's window type shit or just being the Wendy's employee getting the alligator thrown at him.

Also speaking of Florida man do you have an idea of what state they live in currently in modern au? (I love hearing peoples takes on where in America they think rdr takes place, especially when they're talking about where they'd be in a modern au)

i am so conflicted because like. gang with memories and knowledge of what happens in the future.

arthur wants to kill micah. yes he's been thriving and has a happy life with hosea and bessie and the boys and being a part of isaac's modern life but imagine the guilt he would feel knowing he was dying anyway but if he'd killed micah in 1899 it would've literally saved lives and it might have meant the bureau never went after john in 1911. the absolute arthur 'blames himself for everything that ever happened' morgan would consider himself personally responsible for every life micah took/destroyed post 1899. and arthur has 8 years to plan. 8 years.

but i did let dutch live so why not micah. gotta give rat bastard man a of love

micah respawned in a denny's parking lot to the sight of arthur morgan with a baseball bat. no context. no understanding what's happening. it's late evening. there's street lights and neon signs and who fucking cares they immediately pick up where they left off in 1899 which is beating the living shit out of one another.

cut to them both bloody and bruised in holding cells at the local jail still hurling insults at each other while hosea is just standing there wondering what the actual hell he is meant to do.

said incident immediately landed micah on a list of people not allowed to be sold guns and it is like neutering a feral dog. the first time micah cries in his life is at a walmart being told he isn't able to buy a gun. even if the gang want nothing to do with him like they are getting a phone call sorry to interrupt your evening sir but there's an adult man throwing a tantrum on the floor

the gang are forced to admit it isn't morally correct to a) let micah loose unsupervised in modern era or b) leave him to fend for himself and die. micah ends up living in a trailer park. he embraces redneck culture. he eats so much fast food the servers will call for a welfare check if they haven't seen him in more than three days. he gets a job at a paintball center because damnit if he can't have a gun he will have gun-adjacent. he is the conservative dad-bod southern hick hero of teenage boys everywhere

what's really funny is isaac morgan's best friend (other than jack, obviously) is malachi bell who is a direct descendant of amos bell. because he has known isaac since elementary school: and young isaac did not understand his experiences of being murdered and reawakening in modern era were not universal: kai is fully aware of how the timewarp works ie sometimes he goes with isaac to visit grandpop hosea and there will be a very confused freshly warped outlaw sitting on the couch. the fucking phone call of 'hey remember how my family was super weird around you at the start because you look scarily like your grand uncle who kind of killed my dad and was murdered by my uncle GUESS WHO JUST TURNED UP'

micah is the best terrible uncle a kid could ask for and is honestly super attached to kai even though kai is his polar opposite in every way out of spite. kai goes to micah's trailer for dinner. says he's vegetarian. goes again and micah went through the effort of getting tofu. says he's allergic to soy. inherited all the bell snark and none of the tendency towards evil

micah and arthur in a fistfight at a barbeque while kai and isaac are both just standing there 'i'm sorry about my family'

an underappreciated micah fact is how much he cared about baylock. he would get the exact same level of giddy as the rest of the gang being around horses in modern era. while living in a trailer is not ideal for having a horse he does have a massive black 'looks like he could kill you but is actually a giant cuddle bear' bully-breed dog because as much as he was afraid of dogs (fight me) he is actually more afraid of being alone. his dog eats at the table with him. micah eats mcdonalds while his dog gets lovingly pan-seared steak.

his dog is a kill-shelter rescue named baymax and micah has no idea about disney movies and doesn't understand why people giggle at the name.

to the second point i am not american and have no idea wheeze but i think texas?? texas is where most people seem to think new austin is based on?? in rdr terms they're probably on the northern side of modern day blackwater like there's the bay to the east, mountains to the north and desert to the west. pls if there are any americans what fast food place would micah bell III dedicate his life to and what state should they be in

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Alone on Christmas

1986 wasn't kind to Wayne Munson, even after the strange phenomena following the earthquake settled down and life slowly returned to Hawkins. It didn't matter where he was, if the house was new, if the street was vastly different from the trailer park - he would still see Eddie standing in his kitchen, boiling water for any leftover tea bags they had because the heating wasn't exactly willing and they would wrestle for the last pair of clean warm socks. He would catch a glimpse of a head of dark curls outside and lose his breath, his mind conjuring up an image of his nephew's mischievous grin before it dissolved, revealing a foreign face. A song on the radio that Eddie loved and used to blast throughout the trailer, a leather jacket in a shop window, a forgotten poster calling for Eddie's lynching...the town was unforgiving, even if there was nothing to forgive. Any grieving was difficult, Wayne was no stranger to it, but grieving while not being to talk about who you missed because people refused to believe the person Eddie was...it was a new and imaginative kind of torture. Wayne wasn't a social creature, but he'd never felt so utterly and thoroughly alone.

And if the year itself was painful, Wayne's first Christmas without Eddie hurt beyond belief. The traditions made no sense with Eddie gone, just empty gestures, sparkle with nothing underneath. Of course, Wayne knew that Eddie would have wanted him to celebrate, the boy was kind and ridiculously fond of Christmas even at his age. But even after the kid from Eddie's club, Dustin Henderson, visited Wayne and kept him company before excusing himself for a Christmas dinner with his mother, Wayne just couldn't conjure up a single spark of the festive spirit. After fighting to keep down two mouthfuls of store bought turkey and leaving his hot chocolate untouched long enough to go cold, he gave up. Grabbing his jacket and car keys, Wayne walked out of the door.

He didn't exactly plan where to go, but his body had known the destination long before his brain did. The drive itself was a blur and yeah, it wasn't really safe, the streets of Hawkins were covered with snow and it was already dark, but everyone who had something to live for was inside, sharing food and laughter, so the town might have looked deserted had it not been for the twinkling lights in the windows.

As for Wayne, he found himself in front of the Hawkins cemetery.

With the unbelievable amount of tragedy Hawkins had seen in previous years, it was no surprise that there were candles lit up on the graves, flowers, small presents. For the better or for the worse, people of Hawkins remembered, came to see their loved ones before retreating into the warmth of their own homes. In the dark, the cemetery was quiet and deserted.

Or almost.

At first, Wayne thought he must have been imagining things, but the closer he got to Eddie's gravestone, the more obvious it became that he wasn't the only one who decided that Christmas cheer just wouldn't do it. In the quiet of the snowy evening, the walkman hung over the slab of stone with Eddie's name sounded much louder, almost like a speaker. He couldn't tell the name of the song, but the voice sounded familiar - Dio, he recalled, one of Eddie's favorites. And in the front of the grave, on a thin blanket that must have done nothing to protect from the cold, sat a familiar figure. Steve Harrington.

Wayne knew Steve well enough, he saw him at the graveyard, at the relief center, driving the kids around. He also found him once knocking on his door past midnight, on one of Wayne's rare days off, and spent one of the strangest nights of his life sitting down with him, talking, Steve fidgeting and looking around with panicked eyes. But the boy was determined and slowly, almost apologetically, he told Wayne what exactly happened with Eddie, with Hawkins. "I know it sounds insane, I know it's too much and I'm putting both of us in danger, sir. But you deserve to know. Not some kind of a cover up story they will eventually tell you. You deserve to know what happened to Eddie. I used to think keeping everyone safe was a priority, that maybe it would help if we didn't think about it, but...yeah. You can stop me any time and I'll leave, no questions asked." But Wayne never stopped him and now he knew everything. It was a small consolation and the truth did nothing to soothe his anger and grief, but at least he had the full picture.

And now Steve Harrington was sitting in front of Eddie's gravestone - not a grave, no body to be buried, yet another stake through Wayne's heart - as Dio's voice broke through the silence of the night. He was grasping a mug of hot chocolate, another one leaning against the cool slab of granite, and somehow he even secured a tiny plastic tree, with small baubles and a tiny star at the top. Wayne's throat suddenly felt even tighter.

Steve's shoulders jerked when he heard the crunching of snow under Wayne's feet. He tried to get up, but his legs must have been cold and he fumbled with the fabric, almost crashing into Wayne in the process. "Shit. Sorry, sir, I just-!"

Wayne's large hands grasped his shoulders, stabilizing him. "Easy, boy. And I've told you before, it's Wayne. You happen to have a free spot on that blanket of yours?"

The boy still looked shaken, but he quickly nodded and smoothed out the blanket to allow both of them to fit. It was uncomfortable, way too cold and frankly depressing, but the silence between them felt right. Steve unscrewed the cap off his thermos flask (so that's how he kept the chocolate warm!) and handed it to Wayne. Unlike the cup still waiting on his table at home, Wayne sipped this one and actually enjoyed it.

After a few more minutes of shared quiet and listening to the finishing tones of Holy Diver, Wayne cleared his throat. "Nice tree you got there. You even got the colors right. Eddie loves...loved," he corrected himself, one of the worst habits he'd picked up recently, "the red and gold combo."

"I know." Steve's voice was strained, quiet. "I mean, I didn't know, originally...but I talked to Gareth. You know, the guy who played drums in Eddie's band? He told me...a lot. Well, I also asked a lot, so it's fair. I wanted..." his words trailed off, uncertain. "I guess I wanted to do something nice for him. Even if it's too late."

Wayne smiled into his hot chocolate. "My boy would still appreciate it. I sure do." Looking at the small twinkling tree, he sniffed, maybe not from the cold. "Hell, you did more for him than I did today - I just wanted to see him, easy as that, but you had the whole thing planned. I didn't...I didn't even get him a present."

The shuffling next to him surprised him enough to suppress the bitterness creeping up his throat. When he turned to Steve, the boy was holding a tiny wrapped package. "It can be from you then," he said, dropping the present into his gloved hand. "I didn't know where to set it, thought the snow would ruin the paper, but...maybe you can unwrap it on Eddie's behalf?"

Fucking depressing indeed. But also warm, so terrifyingly warm.

Steve watched as Wayne removed his gloves with his teeth. "Okay, Eddie. Let's see what Santa brought you," he muttered and tore off the paper, revealing a red D20. He glanced at Steve and they both started chuckling at once, finally easing some of heavy atmosphere.

"Dustin said this was like, Eddie's thing. He'd carry them in his pockets all the time" said Steve and swept aside some of the snow so Wayne could set the die down, under the tree.

"Oh you have no idea." Wayne was putting the glove back on and returning to his hot chocolate. Stupid December. "He'd leave those things lying everywhere. Ever stepped on one of these when you've just woken up? That hurts."

They were laughing again, watching the steam rising from Eddie's cup of hot chocolate. It would be cold soon.

But eventually, Wayne had to ask. He turned towards Steve, touched his shoulder. "Not that I don't appreciate the company, Steve, but...why are you here?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, clenched his jaw. But Wayne knew when to push and when to wait.

Eventually, the silence got to Steve, made him desperate to break it. "I told you. I wanted...I wanted to do something nice for him. So I came here."

Wayne shook his head. The grip on Steve's shoulder never wavered and the boy didn't shake him off. "I get that. You're a good kid, Steve. But no one should be alone on Christmas Eve."

He didn't have to look to tell that Steve's lips were trembling, his breathing uneven. "But Eddie is," he whispered. Then, louder, more stubborn. He met Wayne's eyes. "You are."

If that truth didn't hurt. But Wayne couldn't bring himself to be mad, to flinch at another stab into his heart. Twisting on the blanket, he pulled Steve into a hug. He didn't give many and received even less, but maybe Steve needed it. Maybe they both did. By the ease with which Steve let himself be pulled forward, with the firm grip of Wayne's arms, it was hard to dispute.

"I know, Steve," he muttered against his shoulder. "We're both alone and it sucks, it sucks so much, but there's nothing we can do about it. And you don't have to tell me why you're not with your parents, girlfriend, friends, anyone...but making yourself miserable won't bring Eddie back. It wouldn't make him happy." Patting Steve's heaving back, he continued, staring into the night sky. "You know, if he was here, he'd probably yell at us both. And then he'd have us both drive home and warm up before we lose a limb or two."

Steve chuckled into his thick winter coat. "Not sure about it. He wasn't my biggest fan...until the last week. But even then, I think he'd enjoy watching me squirm a bit."

"Maybe so," said Wayne and glanced at Eddie's name on the gravestone. "But there's one thing I know about my boy, Steve. He saw people for real, how they felt. He just had a knack for it, he could see when you were lonely and that was when he was the loudest, most annoying. If he saw you like this, I don't believe for a second he'd enjoy it. He'd probably annoy the hell out of you to snap you out of it, then adopt you like a puppy or somethin'."

They were laughing again, the sound so foreign that Wayne couldn't believe it was coming from his own mouth.

They would have probably stayed there much longer, but the cassette finished playing and clicked loudly, drawing their attention. Wayne let Steve go, but not too far. He might have not been able to save his own boy, but maybe the adoption thing ran in the family. "Hey, Steve. Could you help me with a thing?"

The boy nodded immediately, not taking a single second to think. "Sure thing, sir- I mean Wayne. What is it?"

Wayne took a good look at him. Even in the darkness of the graveyard, in the flickering light of a candle he kept lit on Eddie's grave, he could see the circles under Steve's eyes, the haunted look he'd seen so many times in Vietnam and after. The lines in his face that weren't supposed to be there. "I have a turkey at home that needs eating. It's not good, mind you, but I hate wasting food."

Steve's mouth hung open. "I...I couldn't possibly..."

But Wayne was already rising to his feet, extending his arm to help Steve up too. "Na-ah, Steve. You already agreed. Now help this old man. I also have some more hot chocolate at home, pretty sure what we have here is still chocolate, but definitely not hot."

He saw how Steve's eyes traveled to the gravestone, the tree, the die underneath. The nearly cold mug. He took a deep breath, then another one. And nodded. "Of course. Let me just pack the blanket."

Wayne smiled and pulled him upwards. "Let me help, son." The word slipped from his mouth, almost automatic, but it wasn't just a phrase. Like this whole meeting, it felt right.

As they shook snow off the blanket, the baubles on Eddie's Christmas tree gleamed, like his smile.

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Beach Baby (Eddie Munson x Female Reader)

A short, fluffy summertime drabble based on this text post by @sunflowerdaydreamer

Word Count:701

Authour’s Note:I even went to the trouble of looking up beaches in Indiana for this one lmao. Also we’re ignoring the canon that Eddie died in 1986 because of course we are and that he lived long enough to see Baywatch.

Masterlist

“Alright, you kids got everything you need, now?” Wayne asks just as you and Eddie are about to head out the door.

“Yeah, I think we’re good, right babe?” Eddie turns to you, a wide smile stretching across his lips.

It was a warm summer day and Eddie decided that instead of being cooped up in that hot tin-can trailer he called home, he was going to treat you to a day out at the beach.

“Yeah, we’ve got everything, Mr.Munson” 

“How many times do I gotta tell you, call me Wayne” he tells you, a soft smile pulling at the older Munson’s features. “Alright you kids go have fun now” he shouts as he waves you off, before quickly pulling Eddie back for one moment “..and son, you look after her, take good care of your girl, now, you hear me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, now be off with you” Wayne laughs as he ruffles his nephew’s hair and gently pushes him out the door.

Eddie opens up the passenger side door to his van, offering you his hand as you step in

“Your chariot awaits, M’lady” he jokes, bowing in a grand gesture as he helps you into your seat.

Eddie rushes around to jump into the driver’s seat next to you, before turning to you with a smile.

“TO THE BEACH!” he cheers as he twists the key in the ignition.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at your boyfriend’s antics. He never failed to make you laugh.

_______

The drive to the beach, although filled with comfortable silences, soundtracked by the sound of one of Eddie’s Metallica tapes playing on low in the background, was a lot harder than you had first anticipated. A lot harder. Eddie was sitting there, one  hand loosely gripping the steering wheel, the other hand resting on your thigh. His long, dark, unruly curls tied back in a little bun at the nape of his neck. He’s wearing his Black swim shorts that have the little skull and crossbones on them (which you had told him you found  incredibly adorable) and an old loose fitting Black Sabbath t-shirt which had been on the receiving end of Eddie and his scissors, turning the t-shirt into a crop top. He looked so good like this, in your eyes he was so effortlessly handsome, with his dark sunglasses perched up on his head, and a growing cluster of freckles spreading across his button nose and rosy cheeks. 

Wether or not he was aware of the effect he had on you, he had you slyly squeezing your thighs together to ease the tension.  

You finally reach the warm soft sands and welcoming ocean breeze of Whihala beach, and despite there already being a handful people there, it wasn’t overly busy. Eddie pulled up his van into the car park just outside the beach, and then you both made your way down to the beach.

Setting your towels and bags down on the perfect spot, you shimmy out of your high-waisted denim shorts and throw off your baggy white t-shirt to reveal a perfectly fitting red one-piece swimsuit.

Eddie rarely found himself lost for words, but he was not ready to see you, every inch of soft skin and delicious curves perfectly covered by a bright red swimsuit. He felt his mouth water, and his swim-shorts tighten ever so slightly. If you asked Eddie, Pamela Anderson had nothing on you. 

His idea of spending a fun-filled beach day with his girl, turned into him thinking of all the ways he could get you alone. To spend some quality, one-on-one time with you away from prying eyes. How he so badly wanted to hold you close to him whilst he showed you just how sexy he thought you were.

He’s immediately brought out of his daydream of beach sex with his girlfriend, by the sound of your voice.

“Eddie! Are we getting in the water or not?” you laugh.

He immediately tugs you by the hand towards the sea.

“C’mon Sweetheart, the sea’s waiting for us!”

Yeah this was a good idea, Eddie thinks to himself. The perfect way to cool down on a hot summer’s day.

______

@mcbeanzontoast @munsonology @penguinsandpotterheads

[capriciouslyterminal]

46 for the love prompts!

Thank you for the prompt! I kind of went off and wrote a whole thing so now it's on AO3 and here it is as well. I've become tempted to try and answer all of these.

Prompt: "You can go first."

Eddie had always assumed that when Wayne had first put his down-payment on his trailer (exactly ten miles from his childhood home) he hadn’t really investigated the bathroom before agreeing to cash up front. It’s the only logical solution for his uncle who can mount frames and change oil and caulk to accept a bathroom like theirs.

Sometimes he imagined a Wayne like Springsteen, born to run with the sleeves shorn off his flannels and hair that was tickling his neck, positively bursting at the seams for a place to call his own. Without his father and brother hooking him into their schemes, leaving their evidence under his bed because if anybody was likely to get off on morale alone it was Wayne. Community college drop out with his head on straight, nothing worse on his name than a parking ticket, looking out and seeing only horizons.

New job at the plant, new lumpy bed to call his own, and too delighted at Carol from the office calling him “Sir” to realize that the shower was practically a squat little spigot with lukewarm water no matter which way you turned the handle.

Just a jumping off point to get him through trade school at nights, a home to trade up for one day. And then that Hawkins mud got around his ankles, and there was no moving. And then there was Eddie with a backpack and a prayer.

Even on his first night (he wouldn’t have been crazy enough to say it) Eddie had wondered why Wayne had chosen to hitch his life, his mug-collection and MVP award from basketball and his old dog, to a one-post little box of a building with a shower that was only better than a hose because it had a bit more privacy.

Now though, now Eddie got it.

If you’d told him that all he had to pay to get out of Hawkins was to have to lower his head and limbo his body around a bit to get clean then he’d trade that easy.

But it was nice to learn, in Max Mayfield’s trailer, that apparently piece of shit showers were the unifying design feature of the park. The same way suburbia seemed to be playing fast and loose with the same brick floor plan, each trailer had a shower that was designed to foster scoliosis and wash either your hair or your body. At least Mrs. Mayfield had apparently splurged for a clover-green floor mat and a pale blue curtain that didn’t match the mat but did remind Eddie of her daughter’s eyes.

The mat was already soaked through, so the curtain wasn’t apparently very effective. Or maybe Nancy and Robin had just been too tired to care, too kind to want to take any more time than they had to leave Eddie and Steve dripping in lake water and muck in the kitchen with a litter of children who were starting to get a little too uppity about helping to save them.

The lake water had only just started to dry crusty while Eddie sat in the kitchen and he had been oddly grateful.

It wasn’t the weirdest thing about the so-called “Upside Down” (Eddie was sure that he would’ve found a more creative moniker for the place if he’d found it but he’s too tired to formulate anything good now) that they never dried all the way out from the dive. If you asked him for the weirdest thing Eddie wasn’t sure what he’d say, but he’d get you an alphabetized list once he had some sleep. 

But Eddie was gonna feel the cup of wet denim around his legs, silt in his sleeves, in his nightmares if he’s not careful. And that was before the gunk and the blood and the mold and the fear-sweat made the feeling even heavier.

Needless to say it wasn’t the weirdest part of the Upside Down that made them all smell like a compost pit, a mosh pit, a pig carcass, and an old gym bag left in the rain had a nightmare baby. But it was currently the best reminder of a new chapter in the worst story Eddie thought he’d ever live through.

The kids, after the hugging and Henderson wiping a single relieved tear and Mayfield dumping the contents of her sparse cabinets out for them on her kitchen table as their legs all but collapsed back on ground that was finally the right-side up and Nancy Wheeler telling them how the world was going to end, eventually demanded they shower before considering rest or their next step.

Eddie, hoisted up on a kitchen counter as he jammed an entire pack of saltines in his mouth, was immediately drawn to walking across the way to use his own shampoo and Wayne’s Irish Spring before realizing that being naked down the hall from a tear in dimensions would probably be a bad idea.

Max hadn’t even looked put upon, just gestured down the hall and pulled exactly four towels of different faded colors out of a cabinet.

“Just don’t get gunk on the towels,” Max had said, head completely stationary beneath her headphones in a way that Eddie had never mastered. “My mom’s got a thing about the towels.” Instead of crawling down her spine, jangling in her elbows, it was like Eddie could almost see the music tethering her to the ground.

Apparently she was floating earlier. That was the end of a long list of things Eddie’s almost buzzing with questions about, almost shoving his hands into his mouth to stop. But did you feel it?

He also wondered what constituted as gunk, and where else it would go other than the towels or the shower drain. They’d each already tracked footprints all over Eddie’s living room. If there wasn’t already a huge hole in the ceiling he might be worried about how Wayne would react. Eddie saw Wayne sitting in his recliner in the way he does when Eddie has bad news, after the school’s called or a squad car’s dropped him back home, like a lighthouse in the dark when he was biking down an alternate version of a street. He’d felt like he’d crawl on his knees through broken glass just to have lived through everything to tell Wayne what had happened.

Granted, Eddie might have just put his head on Wayne’s thigh and cried like a little kid. All this time getting Wayne to see him as a man, to see that Eddie could handle it all, and once Eddie saw him again he knew he’d just bawl till he was empty.

Maybe that was how Mrs. Mayfield would react to seeing bat guts on her towels.

At this point Eddie was glad that the trailer was empty when they had burst in with a suddenly conscious Nancy Wheeler just because watching somebody’s mom blow a gasket about towels might have given him an aneurysm.

“Seriously, if you don’t shower soon we won’t live to see tomorrow,” Dustin had said, shoving Steve Harrington away from him but not so far that he would have been out of reach.

For a second nobody had moved from the kitchen, teens ravenously shoving anything they could find into their mouths and kids looking at them like if they blinked for too long they might flicker away, but of course it was Steve Harrington who got shit moving.

He was apparently one of those let’s hustle kind of guys, who probably woke up early on Saturdays to get shit done and started a light jog as soon as a crosswalk told him to use the crosswalk. 

He’d distinctly, in fact, told Eddie to hustle when he was trying to extricate himself from an outcropping of Skull Rock that was laced with a spider-web of living roots. Like Eddie wasn’t clearly trying for stealth here, Steve.

“Ladies,” Steve had said almost imperiously around a spoonful of peanut butter that he was demolishing by the jar around bites of a not entirely ripe banana. Eddie supposed it was post-workout food, just another day in the life of a jock who had somehow been involved in saving the world three separate times before now.

The purple lash about his throat bobbed oddly as he swallowed, Eddie was trying not to watch it go. Trying not to think about Steve Harrington, shirtless and covered in hair that definitely wasn’t there in fourth grade P.E., and dripping soupy black blood from between his teeth.

“Oh, chivalry isn’t dead?” Robin Buckley from band’s leg was jogging beneath the table but she still had a sour twist to her lips around the sandwich she’d made with Harrington’s peanut butter and half a sticky jar of marshmallow fluff. “Steve, ladies first is not–.”

“A good way to show I respect girls I know, I know. Girls aren’t objects I remember. All I’m saying–,” Steve Harrington popped a fourth of the banana (all that remained of it) into his mouth and finished his thought around a mouthful of mush. “–iz tha’ id’ll take less time.”

He gestured at his own hair and then Eddie’s, which was beyond rank and drying crunchy at this point before sucking peanut-butter off the flat of his palm.

Eddie, in the middle of a genuine crisis, couldn’t help but stare. At this point he would take what he could get. On one hand, Robin Buckley looked like she wasn’t buying it, but on the other she also looked like her principles were quickly losing the fight to her physical discomfort.

But Eddie also had a feeling that what Steve wasn’t mentioning was the way Nancy Wheeler hadn’t stopped shaking since she’d come back, that she looked like it was February and she’d run out to get the mail in just a long sleeve and no shoes. That she’d been demolishing the remaining half of a bag of shredded sharp cheddar mechanically, far-away, but had perked up slightly at the prospect of a shower.

And so Nancy and Robin had gone off together, nobody choosing to go anywhere alone, and the familiar kick-thud of the shower running almost made Eddie want to lull to sleep while the sight of Steve Harrington putting away a whole pack of baloney by himself kept him awake.

They didn’t talk much other than Henderson, who proceeded to talk about any and everything because apparently it had been a while since he’d updated Erica on his cat.

Eddie learned in no uncertain terms that Dustin’s first cat had apparently been eaten by a multidimensional slug that had become quadrupedal and the size of a pretty big dog. He also got to hear a play by play about Steve Harrington protecting three of the gaggle before them in a junkyard from a pack of the things.

All Eddie could consider was the fact that he had seen Dustin Henderson every Friday for a whole semester, he’d called the kid Weird Al for a month straight to haze him after his fucking t-shirt, and before any of that he’d given a real monster that gap-toothed smile and named it after a musketeer.

When the girls had come back (Nancy in a robe of Mrs. Mayfield’s and Robin left in an oversized pajama shirt of Max’s that fit her like normal), they were more pink than they had been with hair that had been toweled to fluffiness and a warm mist practically hanging off their shoulders.

It had looked beyond nice, and proved that any kind of shitty shower was worth its weight in gold.

Eddie had followed Steve Harrington to the bathroom in some sort of trance, his life a swirl of exhaustion and strangeness, and that didn’t improve when he and Steve Harrington faced each other in the yellow of the bathroom. Eddie fully clothed, Steve’s chest still peeking out from between Eddie’s own vest and half of Nancy Wheeler’s shirt.

“Do you think this shit’s infected?” Steve asked poking his makeshift bandage like they were making small-talk that didn’t mean anything over the counter at Family Video.

“Probably,” Eddie said, and found himself turning away on instinct when Steve started peeling the makeshift bandage back. That’s when he took note of the clover mat and the blue curtain, suddenly feverish with the need to look away from Steve Harrington’s glorious bod and its slightly squelching wounds.

It’s fine, Eddie had told himself, thinking of skinned knees and fake blood pouring up from a guy blowing on a blood tube under Kevin Bacon’s bed and the time he’d gotten his head cracked open from falling on a bleacher and needed staples. You should be fine to look.

And yet he found he couldn’t turn around. There were two sets of shampoo and conditioner in a little shower caddy. A strawberry shampoo and a nondescript white bottle that boasted treatment for dry hair. A strawberry conditioner and a similarly slim white bottle of conditioner. One cake of lavender soap and a loofa. A hair-trap bound up with red curls like copper wire in the drain.

There were heavy chunks of…something in the hair trap like pebbles speckled along the bottom of a fish tank.

Eddie looked back at Steve before he could take stock of the qualities of the chunks, and found Steve Harrington looking at him in the mirror.

“You can go first,” Steve said with a hand in his hair that was clearly tugging at something that had only just stopped bleeding based off his face. The ruin of Steve’s hair would almost be a comedy if Eddie hadn’t almost died earlier today.

“Aw, Buckley was right about chivalry,” Eddie cooed around a smile that had suddenly appeared. “But shouldn’t you…deal with that?”

“It’ll take too long. Better I go last just in case, yeah?”

Eddie fanned seductive fingers against the curtain of his bog-weed hair. “With these curls? You’ll be lucky if the hot water’s not gone.”

“I’ve had worse,” Steve Harrington said in a way that was radiant for how strange and heroic it was. For how suddenly almost an action hero he looked. Guys who kept going and going because they had to. “What about you? Anything to deal with?”

“Few scrapes,” Eddie said with a catalogue of aches to his name. Scrapes and achey muscles and a few times he’d got honest to God gnawed on. But none of that stopped him from fluttering his eyelashes and smirking. “Why? You offering to help me with them?” 

Again Eddie sees the movie-like picture of Nancy Wheeler’s field medicine over Steve’s heaving chest. He imagines himself, hands splayed across the planes of Steve’s body.

Steve Harrington huffed out a breath like finalizing a decision. “I would,” Steve said easy as anything, almost in a daze himself. Almost offended, like he was pissed Eddie wouldn’t assume that yeah he would help with the wounds in the way Eddie’s gut suddenly dropped at the thought. “I’ll be right outside. Say the word if you need…help.” 

And then he went to stand outside, like a guard. Like a promise. Like Christmas Eve as you fall asleep, the lure of it just outside your bedroom door. And Eddie didn’t have to wonder about why Steve didn’t just leave. Why nobody wanted to be alone.

And as Eddie shucked off his pants, as he cringed at the strange bruising of his body and the thought that once he got out of the shower nothing would have changed, he tested the water with his hand and found it to be slightly warm.

It was only once Eddie tilted his head back, curled up like a pillbug with his arms close to his chest, to let the water sluice through his hair that Eddie considered Steve Harrington’s willingness to help in abstraction under a cottony layer of exhaustion from being a wanted man to leaving reality behind.

Under the relief and the wonder of warm-ish water that wasn’t from a lake there was a thought about sharing water for efficiency’s sake. Beneath the pool of pink strawberry shampoo in his palm there was the consideration of somebody else’s fingers rubbing it in. Lathering soap that stung on his scrapes, the idea that if he could only remember the words to one he would be singing Steve Harrington a song. In the chill of his face, suddenly devoid of warmth as he scrubbed at his shoulders, the wonder that it was Steve Harrington of all people who would come if he called.

Who would cram his body into this shower of his own free-will and gently wash Eddie’s wounds.

Who let Eddie shower first.

And it was Steve Harrington for whom Eddie made sure there was still hot water. Steve Harrington, for whom Eddie left his towel on the sopping floor because the mat was kind of useless.

It was Steve Harrington that Eddie bowed for, bid him enter the bathroom, and for whom Eddie planted his back against the wall just in case he needed help. Just in case he called for Eddie. Just in case he needed him.

(AO3 Link if you need it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43846077)

[dalyntha]

Why is it always like, “well, you can just get back on the horse you rode in on”? Why didn’t we keep updating this saying, not only for accuracy but because it’s far more hilarious.

“Listen, Mister, I don’t know who you think you are, but you can just get right back into that carriage that you rolled up in on, and go right back to the grisly streets of London, where you came from!!”

“Hey is there a problem here? Because you know, you could just climb right back into that big rig cabin that you drove in on, and trucker your little ass right back to Cincinnati!. I dont care if you have sixteen wheels and a bed in the back!”

“Ahem!! Listen, people, if there’s going to be an issue, you all can just climb right back into the clown car that you and your fifteen coworkers came in on, and take your creepy job back to the circus, I’m sure they have noticed their fifteen weird ass clowns are gone “

“John, I told you once, and I’m not going to say it again. I don’t like you disrespecting my wife, so you can just climb right back onto that unicycle and meander away back to your own crappy marriage”

“UH UH, I don’t think so—you can’t be dipping your toes into the river Styx while I’m crossing l it. You people can’t even hold it together while I get you to the frickin afterlife. I can just turn this thing around and you can get right back onto the funeral pyre you came in on, and here’s your stupid eye coins, this currency does nothing here, ugh.*i hate this job, I can’t believe I didn’t finish trade school, ugh *

“Mindy, you are a liar and a cheat! I think you should just tie your lying feet right back into the roller skates that you rolled in on before you stole my boyfriend, and just keep on going till you get back to the trailer park!”

“Well, good sir, I’m of good stock, I nearly perished during the long journey here, but I persisted. You, however, should just get right back on the Mayflower, and have them take you back to England where you belong. I hope you catch your death of scurvy!”

“Amelia, I know you just got back, I mean we were looking for you FOREVER, but if you’re going to be a snarky bitch because (mimics Amelia) I can fly a plane and you casaaant…..! Then you can just fly back to the Bermuda Triangle and get lost again”

“And then I was like, ha, look grandma—you may not make me pay rent, and you may let me sit on the furniture without the plastic covers on them, but honestly if you think I’ll just stand around and take it while you make fun of my gaming schedule, you can crawl over to your electric wheelchair, hoist your wrinkly shit into the seat, and just leave. I’ll open the front door even, and then I can play World of Warcraft any time i damn well please. My girlfriend is on there, she lives in Abu Dhabi—but she’d love to see Iowa in the spring”

“One small step for man, one—-oh hell, wtf? JIM I SAID I GET THE FIRST WALK! I had my special phrase all ready to go and you just come out here in the middle of it, all giggly, floating around like this is a damn game! This is serious! Grr, just get back into the stupid space ship we came here in and go back to earth. Maybe if you leave me here I can finally get some peace, if it’s not you people it’s the wife, nagnagnag!”

“Lucinda. Did you seriously take my last newts eye and toad spit? How the hell am I suppose to reanimate a corpse if you’re off taking my important ingredients to make love potions to give your dumb friends?! Here’s your broomstick, straddle that stick, will ya, and let it magic you back to your apprenticeship, because you never should have passed!”

“Omg. No one is getting along, there’s just blood and chaos every where. Is this war even worth it? Over a woman!!?? Helen can’t be that great! *man nearby overhears* HEY DID YOU JUST SAY HELEN ISN’T THAT GREAT?! bro, get your friends, load up into that wooden horse you came inside of, and stop blaspheming Helen!”

“Donkey! Fiona just told me you said she needs to go on a diet? Ogres don’t diet, you idiot! Just climb back onto your dragon wife and have her return you to your terrible family, it’s not my fault they left you and the sheep took you in, leaving you with no donkey friends and trauma you deal with by making jokes! Jokes that now have my wife breathing fire up my green ass hotter than ANY dragons breath! This time when you are getting a lift try not to impregnate her again, you have like eight donkey dragon babies already and they’re a terrible example for Fergus, farkle and Felicia!”

“I thought you were going to propose, you know… the romantic ride here, the picnic on the grass, us dating for ten years…. But if you’re just going to tell me you’re not ready yet, you can climb back into that hot air balloon basket and let the thing take you back to your dumb Subaru. I can not believe it was a five hour ride here and I thought I was at LEAST going to end up with a decent rock on my hand!”

“Yay you’re here! I’m glad your mom brought you to the playground! You what? You want to play with ben instead? But I waited all week!!!! I’m going to tell Ben you pooped under the slide, so you can just get back into the little red wagon that your mom pulled a mile to get you here, you big meanie!”

[stranger-dreams01]

Innocent until proven guilty

“No Sir.”

“Did your accomplice Edward Munson have anything to do with the murder of Chrissy Cunningham on March 21?”

“No Sir.”

“Are you in any way being coerced into giving these answers? Have you been threatened or promised anything in any way by another person in order to conceal the truth?”

“No Sir.”

(Y/N) clench your bottom jaw so harshly you’re sure your teeth will shatter as you stare into the eye of the new Sheriff, recognising him as the previous deputy, one of the deputies that showed up the day you were dragged from your home.

“See, we have reason to believe that you and Edward co-conspired to murder Miss Cunningham in cold blood as a part of this ritualistic cult you take part in.” He gestures towards the Hellfire logo on your chest from the borrowed shirt from Munson and it takes everything in you to bite back a sarcastic remark as you maintain the deathly eye contact, almost threatening him to look away first.

“I barely knew Chrissy, I just got back into town that day. I’m sure you remember why I was gone Sheriff? My father Mr Harrington is a good friend of yours as I remember. Eddie, not Edward, did not kill Chrissy. I did not kill Chrissy. Neither did we kill the others, we were too busy trying to hide from Jason Carver who was trying to kill us along with his loyal puppy dog friends on the Hawkins High basketball team.” You spit words like they’re laced with fire, leaning forward in the uncomfortable metal chair now, fists balled so tightly in your lap that she was sure your nails would draw blood from your palms in the confines of the handcuffs.

The sheriff remains unmoving in his chair, leaning back slightly with arms folded across his chest almost nonchalantly.

“Other murders? It’s interesting that you would bring them up. The second murder of Fred Bunson right outside the trailer park where Mr Munson lives and Chrissy Cunningham was murdered. Don’t you find that suspicious Miss Harrington? That there are two murders within walking distance of Mr Munson. One of which took place in his very home. Or the murder of Patrick McKinney at Lover’s Lake where you were also seen by officers and civilians with Mr Munson, Mr Harrington, Ms Wheeler and Ms Buckley.”

You already knew exactly how it sounded, if you hadn’t been there when Chrissy died you’d be sure that you wouldn’t believe what your saying either.

“You’re not listening to me. How could we have killed Fred if we were out by Lovers Lake in Rick’s house? We left the trailer park before the investigation even started. So why would we come back to kill someone with the police crawling all over the place? And with Patrick we were in the middle of the lake, unless Eddie is the second coming of Christ I don’t think he can walk on water. Now I’m done talking to you, so arrest me or let me go so I can go back to the hospital because my boyfriend was attacked. He isn’t a killer, he’s a victim.”

With a raised eyebrow the Sheriff finally shows a spark of surprise. “You have your fathers fire, I’ll give you that much (Y/N)”.

That was the last straw, you stand from her chair now, the metal of its legs screeching against the floor. “You call me a murderer but you turn a blind eye to what he did to me! We didn’t hurt anyone!”

*a snippet from my unfinished fic*

[xtrafluffyteddy]

Okay this might sound weird but can you do a series or one shot of steddie x reader where we get hurt on the upside down and one finds out body while the other finds out when they get back up into hawkins? Like for example:

We got bit in the neck by a demo bat and end up passing out from the blood loss and pain. And eddie ends up finding our body and drags her with dustin back into his trailer and later steve comes and finds out by seeing a note because eddie and dustin brought us to a hospital. Ansgt/fluff whatever you choose.

Sorry its complicated, do this if you want. Have a good day darling<3

Maybe I’ll make us a vampire who knows anyways this is a great idea chickeedee

Pairing: steddie x reader

Mentions: blood loss, hospitals, possible vampirism?

“Fuck” you groan as you stare at all the demobats that had fallen around you, you could feel the blood bubbling up in your throat as you held your hand on the large gash on the side of your neck “please” you choke out “please hurry” you beg before succumbing to the pain and blood loss vision becoming fuzzy as you pass out

“There she is!” Dustin shouts noticing a lump among the demobats “shit shit sweetheart hang on” Eddie slides down next to you taking in your injuries “we gotta get out of here” he shouts to Dustin who nods “but what about Steve and the others” he questions as he helps eddie start carrying you towards the gate “we’ll leave a note if she stays here any longer she’ll die”

When Eddie had lifted you through the gate he followed closely behind rushing out of the house to back the van up to the house so they could lay you in the back Dustin keeping tight pressure on your wounds “she’s fading we gotta hurry Eddie” Dustin shouts as he tries to keep you in the land of the living “fuck hold on tight” he shouts and with a screech of his tires and the kicking up of gravel he’s speeding like a bat outta hell towards the hospital

When he reaches there he just parks on the side walk and rushes to the back to help Dustin carry you inside “stay with us sweetheart stay with us” Eddie pleads as they get rushed into the hospital the doctors immediately rushing into action taking you towards the OR. “It’ll be okay Eddie she’ll be okay” Dustin comforts rubbing Eddie’s back as he cries

When Steve had climbed out the gate he expected to see you and Eddie waiting for him only being met by a note that was hastily scrawled with the words ‘hospital’ he felt his stomach dropped as he took off towards his car leaving a confused Nancy and Robin behind “fuck please be okay” he almost crashes a couple of times from the wall of tears blurring his vision pulling up to the hospital to see Eddie’s perilous parking his van covered in tickets

When Steve rushes inside and he looks around for any signs of Eddie and Dustin his eyes find the pair curled up in the farthest corner forlorned looks on their faces, Eddie looks up at him immediately hugging him tight as they both sob not knowing if they’d lose you tonight or not.

It was hours before they heard anything from the doctors by that time the rest of the gang had shown up all of them waiting with baited breath for your results. When the doctor calls for your group it’s Eddie and Steve who rush up immediately bombarding the doctor with questions “is she okay? Where is she? How bad is it?” The doctor silences them with a hand “slow down sirs, it was touch and go for a while but she’s stable now if you’d like to see her” they nod rapidly as follow the doctor towards your room.

“Your okay” Steve cries seeing your awake and sitting up neck wrapped in layers of bandage and gauze covered and hooked up to different tubes and machines “like I’d let Vecna take me down he’ll have to try harder than that” you rasp sending them a shaky smile. Immediately they are sobbing and at your side clinging to you “we though we lost you” Eddie sobs pressing his forehead against yours hot tears rolling down his cheeks “when I found you there I thought you were dead for sure” he sniffs fingers caressing the gauze on your neck “I thought we were gonna lose you and I couldn’t even tell Steve” he looks over at Steve who just keeps kissing your hand over and over and mumbling about ‘don’t scare me like that again and I’m so glad your okay’ “Eddie, Stevie I’m okay just in a bit of pain is all but they gave me the good shit so I’m on cloud 9 especially with two hotties next to me” you joke causing them to let out watery laughs and smiles “I’m okay boys I’m okay” you all hug each close finding solace in the comfort the others bring.

[fastlikealambo]

The Blizzard: Eddie Munson x Fem Sinclair! Reader Drabble

Summary: The first blizzard of the year strikes for the newly married couple but you’ll always find your way home to Eddie. 

Word Count: 880 words.

Trigger Warnings: Worried Eddie, use of she/her pronouns, but other than that just pure fluff.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding, who is a booking a vacation in the middle of a snowstorm?” Eddie said, watching you get dressed for work while the snow was just beginning to fall.  

His own boss had called earlier to tell him the garage was closed for the day but not the travel agency.  Your boss didn’t even live in Hawkins but has informed you that the agency had to be open for business just like all the other locations. 

“I’ll be home around seven, I’ll call you before I leave, promise.” 

Eddie tugged on your scarf, bringing you to him for a kiss that warms you from the inside out.

“Be careful, angel.” 

There was already snow covering your car by the time you got outside to leave and the roads were all but empty when you pulled into the travel agency, the only open store in the tiny strip mall. 

An hour or two into your shift, the snow had started to get thicker and it was getting more and more difficult to see out the window.

You hadn’t had a single customer.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is Mrs. Munson.” Your boss said when you called to ask if it was possible to close up earlier. 

“Have you ever been to Indiana during the winter, sir?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to tough it out. Please make sure to get all snow off the sidewalk out front, we wouldn’t want our customers to get hurt, now would we?”

“ It’s getting really bad out baby, I’ll come get you.” Eddie’s voice crackled through the phone.

“No, I’m fine, you put snow tires on my car, remember?”

“You sure you’re okay there?”

“I’m okay, I promise. “

“Call me if you want to come get you baby, okay?” Eddie’s worried voice filled you with unease.

“I will, I love you.”

30 minutes later, the storefront goes black, the howling of the wind the only sound. You wait for the backup generator to kick in but it doesn’t, the cold begins to seep in through the cracks in the window so job or no job, you lock up and head to your car.

By the time you manage to dig your car out, the blizzard has gotten into full swing and you can barely see in front of you, pulling out of the parking lot as slow as possible.

Your car runs into a snow drift not far from home and that’s when panic starts to set in. Too far to walk back to the store, you do the one thing your mother told you never to do which is to leave your car during a blizzard and walk home.

What should have been a 15 minute walk was not and by the time you’re weakly banging on the trailer door, you can’t feel your fingers.

“Did you walk here, are you crazy baby?” Eddie’s voice fills you with relief and you all but toss yourself at his warm body.  Your husband begins to multitask, taking off your wet clothes as quickly and as gently as possible all the while yelling and answering his own questions.

“ I told you I would come get you if it got bad and what did you do? Go outside!” 

“You could have froze to death, you’re halfway there!”

You nod somewhere in his neck, your face pressed against his warm skin, managing to kiss his neck while your teeth chatter.

“No kisses, I’m trying to be mad at you!” He said exasperatedly, throwing blankets over you and wrapping you up tightly before transferring you to the couch.

“No kisses?”

“Maybe just one because you’re currently a popsicle.” Eddie concedes, kissing you on the forehead and retreating to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, the power went out while I was at work and my car got stuck in a snow drift on the way here.” You said, teeth slowly starting to cease chattering.

“ Then you stay inside the car and run the motor but what did you do?”

“I went outside.” You both said at the same time, Eddie returning to the couch to slowly wrap your hands around a mug of hot cocoa and turn the tv to a random movie.

“ Small sips, angel. ” He said. 

You took one sip before shuffling across the couch to put your blanket wrapped head on Eddie’s lap.

“No cuddling until you finish your cocoa.”

“Ugh, fine.” You said, sipping the cocoa while he wraps you in another blanket.

Heat slowly but surely starts to creep in as you finish the drink and you don’t even have to ask before Eddie pulls you in close.

“ Feeling better?”

“I’m warmer, practically sweating under here.”

“Good, you had me worried baby.” 

“I know, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry. I just wanted to get home to you.” You said, turning your face to look at him. 

“And you did.” 

You two fell into comfortable silence, watching the movie while you started to fall asleep on his chest. 

“Hey Eddie, guess what?” You asked, drowsily

“What, angel? ”

“It’s our first blizzard as old married people.” You said with a little laugh.

“ Well, the next one you better be naked under a blanket for a completely different reason sweetheart.”

[munsonology]

I love this!! It’s so accurate! Eddie sees in the fridge that ‘Wayne’ has dozens of robots cooling and waiting to strike.

Eddie has to know for sure if Wayne is indeed sent from Skynet so he takes the robots and puts them in the microwave.

Wayne comes in to see his microwave smoking right before it catches fire and Eddie is holding a frying pan faring Wayne to take a step closer. “I ain’t John Connor!”

Wayne pushes Eddie out the way to get to the fire extinguisher he keeps under the sink. After the muffin incident of ‘79 Wayne doesn’t trust Eddie near a butter knife.

He puts the fire out and turns to Eddie. “You’re gonna wish I was skynet when I’m done cleaning this mess up son. Now sit down!”

“Kyle Reese—”

Wayne lunges at Eddie, frightening him off to his room. After wayne is done cleaning the kitchen, he checks on Eddie who’s fast asleep in his bed.

I think wayne didn’t know how to discipline Eddie at first because he’s not his son, and they didn’t know each other too well when he first took him in. He didn’t wanna be Eddie’s friend but he did look the other way when his nephew would start his antics and act out. Now that they’re all each other has, Wayne tries to teach a lesson each time he has to discipline him.

So the next morning when eddie comes into the kitchen, Wayne is already waiting with his morning coffee and breakfast on the table.

Eddie grabs for the pancakes and Wayne pops his hand, “where’s your manners son? Get a plate and a fork. We live in a trailer park not a zoo.”

When eddie starts eating, Wayne clears his throat alerting eddie Wayne was serious. “There will be no next time you are high as a kite in my house. I mean it Edward. You scared the daylights out of me. Can’t imagine what your little lady was going through. I’m sure we’ll be hearing from her parents,” Wayne grumbled.

“The edibles were from her parents,” Eddie says quietly.

“What?”

“The brownies. Her mom sells Avon on Friday and Saturday nights for some extra cash and the brownies were for her Avon group,” Eddie reveals.

“Well I’ll be…who she buy from?”

“You’ll never guess.”

“I’m not playing wheel of fortune with you ed.”

“Janice.”

They stare at each other for a minute before cackling so loud the Lowery’s rooster crowed, waking up the other strays in the trailer park.

“If you and little lady wanna get high you come to me first. I don’t want y’all just trying anything and it better not be nothin’ beyond the tree Eddie.”

“Yes sir.”

Eddie and you doing the whole “you hang up, no you hang up” thing except it’s just him sitting in silence because he’s so goddamn high that he straight up forgot he was on the phone with you. Meanwhile, you don’t want to hang up because you’re afraid you might miss something if you do. Like what if he starts talking right as you go to hang up and you just completely cut him off? You can’t have that. So you two just sit silently on the phone with each other for nearly four hours, only to be interrupted by Wayne coming home and telling Eddie to “get off the damn phone and go to bed, boy.”