#steddie timeloop

[cuips-not-cute]

There's a sound of breaking glass. And a boy pressed against him. The momentum with which Eddie always shoves him back falters. Stops completely.

Steve doesn't even touch the wall.

Eddie'd dropped the bottle. And his hands are on Steve's face, caressing, touching, feeling.

"Steve."

He doesn't move. Eddie does, though, pulling him into the hug of all hugs, his lithe body shuddering.

He remembers. Eddie remembers.

"You're okay." Eddie breathes. "It restarted. You're okay."

And then Steve's hugging him back. Clutching at Eddie's leather jacket, fingers digging in. Eddie's skin is warm beneath it. His pulse thrumming in his throat, a steady beat against the edge of Steve's nose.

Steve doesn't have to do this loop alone.

excerpt from ch9 of my fic, cyclical❤️

[beverlykitkatz]

anyone else thinking about timeloop steddie + hozier’s francesca or is my brain rotting all by its lonesome

[sp0o0kylights]

Still working on the BB fic but have another snippet of that Stobin Timeloop AU. This can be read as stand-alone.

Steve Harrington snaps on a completely random Friday.

Well--not completely random. It's both the day of the Big Sportsball Game as well as Hellfire’s grand finale--but neither of those things should matter to Harrington.

Not that he needs a reason to lose his shit--Eddie’s long used to being threatened, insulted or outright attacked out of the blue. 

It’s the whole reason he built up the persona he had--because the scarier he was, the more people left him alone. 

Unfortunately it would appear that Hawkins fallen king hadn’t gotten the memo, given he seemed hellbent on kicking Eddie’s ass. 

"Come on Harrington, we can talk about this." Eddie says, as he’s shoved back, scrambling for a way out, as the former jock gets up in his face. 

The guy had called out his name the second he pulled into the parking lot (sans Buckley or any of the freshman they shared, which has Eddie's back up instantly) but Eddie had simply ignored him.

It was too early to deal with whatever had Harrington sounding like his ass was on fire.

Pity Steve had charged over instead, a look in his eyes that said whatever happened next was going to hurt.

Eddie carries a switchblade, but hes never had to use it before. 

Had instead made an entire production about having it, including cleaning his nails with the blade or stabbing it into the cheap wood desks when a teacher stepped out of the room. 

Had shouted that he’d pull it even when Harrington had charged him, but the guy didn't even blink.

Thus forcing Eddie to confront the fact that he really doesn’t want to stab someone.

Particularly not someone whose family has the police in their pockets (or did with Chief Hopper, though Eddie doesn’t doubt that the Harrington Hoard won’t immediately grab onto the next pig to get promoted.) 

His panic leaves him flailing but somehow, (and unfairly Eddie may add) Steve seems to expect this. 

Knows how to navigate it.

Eddie's back hits the metal of the van and he winces, expecting the hit, the pain. 

If he can duck, if he can make it so the first punch only grazes him, he can grab his fucking knife and wave it around, see if that gets the asshole off him, except--

Instead of hitting him, Steve reaches past, to yank one of the van’s passenger doors open. 

Herds Eddie inside, slamming the door behind him before snatching a fistful of Eddie's shirt and hauling him forward. 

"What--" Eddie asked, confused, right before Steve smashes their lips together. 

It's a hard kiss, practically a claim. 

Steve kisses him like a drowning man gasps for air and Eddie can only fall into it, stunned. 

(The stunned portion only lasts long enough for Eddie to blink before he's kissing back, hot and heavy.

He's been horny for Harrington since the asshole did a trick shot that showed off his ass and involved flipping Hagan off at the same time, sue him.) 

Thinks as he does, that this is probably a trap.

That even if it isn't, then whatever it is Steve will make him regret it--even if he started it. 

(Not like Eddie can claim he wasn’t enjoying it, either. He’s giving as good as he gets, dick quickly overwhelming any rational thought in his brain. 

He clings to Steve like a lifeline, gasping when the jocks takes his bottom lip between his teeth and lightly drags it out, begging to be let into Eddie's mouth. 

This isn't reality.

 Cannot be reality, must be the start of a wet dream or some…vivid hallucinations because when Eddie grinds himself upwards into Steve, cock chasing friction, Steve presses back.) 

"Fuck." Eddie moans when Steve finally releases him, panting up at the ceiling. 

"Do I have your attention now?" Steve asks, voice raspy and Eddie finds himself able to die happy, because that tone is downright possessive. 

"Yeah big boy, you have me--it." Eddie corrects himself fast, the words practically blending together. 

Steve gives a strangled sort of laugh at that, and instead of getting up, presses his face down onto Munsons shoulder. 

Eddie expects him to spring up at any moment. Declare insanity maybe, or far more likely threaten him about telling anybody.

If past bar hookups were an indicator, he'd  throw a few slurs in for good measure. 

(And those men had been at a gay bar, not Hawkins high school parking lot.) 

It's nothing Eddie can't handle, but Steve…isn't doing any of them.

Instead his breathings gone weird, body trembling--and Eddie can see how Steve is holding himself up.

Like he's worried about Eddie taking his weight.

Slowly, carefully, he raises a hand to the back of Steve's hair.

He presses in slow, waiting to be yelled at, waiting to be rejected but never is. 

"You can lay on me, Harrington, I won't break." Eddie tells him and knows his voice is too sweet when he says it.

Too lovey dovey, too awed. 

Too late, for him to recover into a normal voice but fuck it. Not like Eddie was known for making smart decisions. 

Nothing could have prepared him from the wounded noise Steve makes in return. 

"Hey--hey." Eddie says, in rising panic. "I've got you." 

"I know." Steve raises, and head coming up at last, cheeks red and tear stained but his eyes are clear.

Clear and fucking haunted.

 "I know you do, Eds, but we don't have time. Which is why I need you to listen to me, because I'm not the Steve Harrington you know."  

Utterly reeling from being called "Eds" it takes Eddie a moment to digest what was just said. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Steve sighs, a blast of frustration, and Eddie finds himself automatically scritching at Steve's head. 

For some reason that seems to help. 

"Your D&D finale’s tonight, right?" 

"Yes." Eddie says slowly, his mind spinning uselessly, every coherent thought derailed by something new. The moles on Steve's neck. The way he shifts, how his leg is tangling with Eddie's, awkwardly because it's cramped as shit back here. 

"I'm way past this. I've lived this. More than once." 

Aha. 

So it's a mental breakdown Steve's having. 

"I'm still waiting for you to make sense, Harrington." Eddie says to buy himself time to think. 

"Steve." The younger man corrects and he's holding Eddie's gaze. "And I'm not making sense because saying it sounds stupid." 

Eddie can't help the little derisive laugh that breaks out of him. "I hear a lot of stupid things, one more won't kill me." 

"I know, you're famous for your rants about them." Steve snarks back, but it's teasing. 

Friendly and familiar, like he's used to bantering. 

Not just that, but bantering with Eddie, specifically.

He doesn't know what to do with that, so he tugs a little on Harrington's too perfect hair. 

Demands an explanation with that little jolt--and somehow, Steve doesn't haul off and punch him for it. Instead a shudder rollers through him, eyes closing just a touch and--Oh.

Oh, Harri-Steve, likes it.

"I'm from the future." Steve says, which does indeed sound stupid. 

Eddie blinks. "What?" 

"Robin and I are stuck in a time loop-- we keep living this week over and over." He continues, only now he's leaning his head against Eddie's arm. 

"Every single time, you take the longest to get on board and buy in, and every single time I fail to get everyone out alive so fuck it. Fuck all of it--I'm speedrunning this part." 

Oh this is beyond breakdown. 

This is 'took something he shouldn't have and then some' and Eddie knows how to trip sit. 

He just…doesn't want to get punched for being the first person Steve released his repressed homosexual urges out on, drugged or not. 

(The fact Steve's still letting Eddie pet him like a cat absolutely does not have anything to do with it, no sir.)

because his mouth bypasses his rational mind most days and today is no exception. 

"Okay." Eddie says. "Let's say you are from the future and not shot up with what I'm assuming you were told was steroids and was very much not."

 Steve rolls his eyes. 

He never bothered to dry his cheeks and Eddie does it now for him, with the hand that's not in Steve's hair.

Steve leans into it, which somehow feels like the craziest part of it all.

"Prove to me that you're from the future." Eddie challenges.

"Oh the kissing wasn't enough? Fine." Steve bitches, before rattling off facts like he's blowing through answers on Jeopardy. 

"You call your guitar sweetheart and apologize for cheating on it anytime you use your other guitar, who is named Arwin. Your favorite mug in Wayne's collection is the Garfield one and you can play Master of Puppets by heart even though the album came out last month."

"And this is coming from the future and not one of the freshmen we somehow share custody over…?"  Eddie says, even while alarm shoots down his spine.

Had he told the kids about his Garfield mug? 

That his acoustic was named Arwin…?

He suddenly couldn't recall but that made the most sense. Had to make sense.

Steve huffs, annoyed.

Its very cute, and Eddie bites his own lip hard to keep himself focused. 

A finger dips under Eddie's collar, wrapping gently around the chain that sits there before he can react.

 "This," Steve emphasizes with a gentle tug, "was your mom's. She gave it to you the morning of the accident." 

Eddie's world stops.

Not the same way it stopped when Steve kissed him, it stopped in a way they felt like ice had been dumped over his head. A flash freeze that squeezed his chest, claws digging into his exposed heart.

The only person who knew about the pick was Wayne. 

No one else, not even his band, his closest friends, knew the origin of it. 

To tell someone that, to say it was not only his mothers but that shed given it to him the morning before some drunk asshole t boned her shitty, shitty car and killed her-- was akin to handing over step by step instructions on how to hurt him. 

Eddie would go to the ends of the earth for that pick, and he had never let anyone know just how important it was to him.

Except Steve Harrington, apparently. 

"Okay." Eddie says, "Okay, you're from the future. You said--" He pauses, swallows. 

Fights down his disbelief even as the dots connect, because why else would he tell anyone about his pick? 

The only reason he can possibly conjure is if he needed someone to give it back to Wayne, because he, for whatever reason, couldn't.

 "You said you're reliving this because you can't get everyone out alive?" Eddie managed to get out, grappling with the knowledge that "everyone" included him. 

"Yeah." 

 "Are you also my boyfriend or something?" 

"If we can make it there, then yes." Steve says, slightly hysterical. "And really? You're finally gonna believe me?" 

"Are you arguing here for me to believe you or not, Steve, you're giving conflicting signals--" 

"No it's--you've fought me on this man. I've tried every method of getting you with us and every time you argue until the bats show up but one kiss and you're all for it?" 

"Give yourself some credit, it was a grand slam of a kiss.” Eddie replies, because it was by far and large the best kiss of his life. 

He’d follow Steve to hell and back if more kisses like that were on the table, mental breakdown or no. 

Steve snorts at him, a half-hysterical sound. “Noted.” He says. 

Then; “You believe me though?”

“Not at all!” Eddie chirps with a wobbly grin that betrays him.  “But on the off chance you’re right the uh…the thing about my pick…” He trails off self consciously. 

“I should have guessed that was what it. You only ever tell me that when you’re dying.” Steve fills in for him, and it’s weird, to know that for two seconds Steve Harrington apparently read his face and correctly guessed what he was thinking about. 

Abruptly decides he doesn’t want to think of his impending doom any longer. 

“So how about we skip the dying part and focus on the boyfriend part?” He says, poking at Steve’s cheek. 

Steve makes a face at him, before grabbing a his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

“We gotta fix this mess first, Munson.” He tells him gently, looking up at him through his lashes and oh, that is a look Eddie will keep for the rest of his life. 

“Lead on, lassie.” Eddie tells him to hide how dazed he feels. “Let’s go save the world and shit.” 

With one final kiss to the palm of Eddie’s hand, Steve does. 

[steddieunderdogfics]

For hurt/comfort weekend:

When it’s over, you’re the start by Ammis (implied, referenced non-con)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52142113

And

Let’s (not) do the time warp again by Here_We_Go

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42297414

When it's over, you're the start by Ammis

Rating: Teens and Up

4,684 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Protective Robin Buckley, Protective Eddie Munson, Post-Battle of Starcourt (Stranger Things), Rape Aftermath, Established Relationship, Hurt Steve Harrington, Implied/Referenced Torture

Summary:

Set immediately post Starcourt. In a universe where the Russians didn't stop at beatings, Steve is holding on by Robin's hand and Eddie Munson had reasons to think there'd been one more body in the rubble.

Let's (not) do the time wrap again by Here_we_go

Rating: Teens and Up

22,393 words, 3/3 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Loop, another steve is stuck in a timeloop fic <3, saving the world with the power of exasperation and metal music, and love of course, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Protective Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, BAMF Eleven | Jane Hopper, BAMF Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Angst, Humor, Protective Robin Buckley, BAMF Nancy Wheeler, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort

Summary:

“Explain,” Erica snaps from where she and the others have all turned to watch the show. “That was my time loop password!” Dustin says and spreads his arms as much as he can while still wrapped up in Steve, clearly expecting awe. Lucas is the only one who delivers, “No fucking way,” he gasps. “Yes fucking way!” Dustin crows - Or Steve Harrington finally breaks the time loop and the aftermath.

Thanks for the recs!

These recs are a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Hurt/Comfort.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[eriquin]

I kept saying, "i'm gonna wait to start The Trolley Problem. I'm gonna wait," 'cause I knew I'd do what I did and plow through the whole thing in a day. It wasn't a bad place to start because there's a certain amount of season 1 level closure.

But now I'm all *GRABBY HANDS* gimmie gimmie!

👐🏼

Great job!

Loooool.

Okay. So I'm nearly done writing the end of the season 1 stuff and I kind of want to split the rest of it into a sequel fic and make a series out of it because there's a tone and pacing shift.

But it would involve "ending" the fic before Steve and Eddie get together, because there's a long way to go. I love nothing if not a slow burn.

So I'm torn on whether or not I should do that. Also, it means that I have to come up with both a title for the new fic and possibly a series title. I don't know.

Feedback is welcome.

[guysimtoohigh]

time loop fics where it's from the pov of a character who does not know they're in a timeloop are just *chefs kiss*

[choface]

nobody’s doing it for the blorbos like Hozier

[steddiesupportpodcast]

🕰️ X fell first, Y fell harder. The Y in this equation has been falling through space and time. Again and again and aga— 🪐

Episode six comes out tomorrow! We talk about Steddie jumping and falling in love through timeloops and— Uh. We talk about time— SERIOUSLY— WE TALK ABOUT—

Hosted by our lovely, Alena @peter-pantomime. With the wonderful Amy @mojowitchcraft, Manon @transmascsteveharrington and Sage @miserablekingsteve. Modded by the amazing Krissie @kwills91.

Special thanks to @strawberryspence for the clip! 🎥

[formosusiniquis]

so I normally rarely post about fics before they magically exist because motivation but

this is what I've been working on for the last few months for my first bb and I have to maintain motivation so tah dah

[hitlikehammers]

the light behind your eyes (steddie timeloop; pre-bat attack🦇)

feat. Eddie falling hard and fast when Steve's had innumerable loops to have already fallen ✨🖤✨

“Not that I am not, hmmmm,” and he can barely bite back a moan; “not that’s I’m not fucking ecstatic, Harrington,” Eddie mouths against the lips on his, and he means it, too, he is in fucking heaven right now because not only is the hottest guy Eddie’s ever seen in real life and probably also in, like, magazines and stuff too: that guy is kissing him, touching him, running hands up under his shit and teasing his waistband, rutting a little against his thigh but…he’s doing it almost like it’s routine, like it’s not quite desperate, or not just desperate, expect for the touch of it and so no, Eddie doesn’t have to understand it at all for him to not be fucking complaining in the slightest—

Save that pointing out that he isn’t complaining stops Harrington’s hands on his body cold, freezes the lips pressed against him mid-suck and then they pull back, and Eddie’s panting so hard it burns, and he wants to whine, he’s only just learned the taste of this man but he wants more, it’s like he’s addicted already but then kinda like he always has been, like the deepest cells of him, the mitochondria from the textbooks he didn’t fucking read: it’s like it all knows the shape of this body, the flavor, and—

And that’s fucking ridiculous, but when Harrington pulls away?

Eddie kinda feels like the world’s ending.

And it is ending, in a way. Interdimensional madmen serial killers and all that, but.

This is different.

“Steve.”

Eddie frowns and can’t help but reach, frame that face even as Harrington tries to shy away but still leans into the touch, and Eddie doesn’t understand; not least how Harrington sounds so fucking shattered around his own goddamn name—

“Can you,” and Harrington’s breathing heaves, shudders: the kind that lives between sobs but his cheeks are dry under Eddie’s palms and that almost feels all the more heartbreaking:

“I know it feels like you barely know me but,” and Harrington blinks so fast, then he’s scrunching his eyes so tight and that, that might be why his cheeks are dry and oh: this is it. He thought before but:

This is the heartbreaking thing.

“Could you call me Steve? Please?”

And god, good fucking god but he asks it so small. It’s pleading and kinda edged in something desperate but here, from this titan of a man Eddie’s seen anew just these past days, this warrior barbarian his sheepies sand the praises of, this paladin out of the shadows come to save them all: he’s so small.

Eddie’s hands don’t move from his face, just draw him closer, upward on instinct until their brows touch, until Eddie can breathe in every shaky exhale that spills forth.

“Steve,” and maybe Eddie doesn’t quite understand the why, here, but he sure as shit savors the shape of that name on his tongue anyway, fucking sue him; “not that every single fucking version of my gay little fantasies aren’t dancing like they’re at queer fucking prom,” and he pauses, because he expects Steve to snort, maybe, expects to lighten the moment so charged, and not just with the kind of tension that tightens Eddie’s jeans—and Steve does make a sound for Eddie’s stupid little not-quite-joke, but it’s not a chuckle.

It’s a moan—but not the good kind. The kind that means pain.

And it’s almost worrisome, how when Eddie pulls Steve closer, he doesn’t fight it one bit; leans in almost…not even greedy. Almost fucking anguished.

“But this is just because it’s the end of the world, right?” Eddie makes himself ask, because too many things don’t add up, not least how Steve doesn’t even try to pull away, barely moves at all save just to breathe, and just to press closer into the crook of Eddie’s neck to do it.

“It’s just because I’m a wanted man whether it’s the cops, or the feds, or that fucker with the clock and the music,” Eddie rambles; doesn’t move his hand where it’s slipped to the side of Steve’s neck like an intimacy, though, doesn’t even consider shifting a fucking centimeter away from the heavy pulse of life surging under his palm. “Like, I mean, whether it’s 20-to-life or an electric chair or the bats—“

It’s the way the chest against him shudders that trips him up; not least to realize how close they are, that they’ve gotten, that Steve’s heartbeat’s something he can tease out without effort at all there, too, and…

Eddie glances up a little further to see Steve staring at the ceiling of the trailer, eyes glistening, the effort not to fucking cry evident as anything and, just, like…

What the fuck?

“Steve?” Eddie hedges a little, gentles his voice further because even though he doesn’t let a single tear fall, just seeing this man so close to it, while staying so close to Eddie, it’s, he just…

He can’t even try to lighten the moment, can’t even push didn’t realize I was that bad of a kisser, fuck past his lips.

“Give me a minute,” Steve doesn’t even rasp, just says even but so so quiet, and again, just so so small. It’s…

It’s not even heartbreaking anymore. Eddie’s whole chest just fucking hurts.

“You okay?” Eddie ventures after what has to be more than a literal minute; when Steve stops staring at the ceiling but screws his eyes close tight again to pull creases at their corners, between his brows; and Eddie whispers the question when he even dares to speak at all because something in this moment feels…fragile. Sacred in some way, even if he can’t name how or why. He waits, and Steve doesn’t move, barely breathes for the longest time so much it starts to kindle real fear in Eddie’s chest, so it’s only once Steve half-gasps and gets back to his lungs working like Eddie wants them to, once that holds for a while and Eddie understands that the closest to an answer that he’s going to get—he lets Steve breathe, and lets the feeling of it calm Eddie down, too, before he does the stupidest, most selfish fucking thing and asks, again:

“What is this, though?”

The way Steve sucks in his breath at the words cuts Eddie sharp; he shouldn’t have said anything. He should have let this lie and just…enjoyed a little bit of impossibility at the end of the world that wasn’t a bad thing.

He thinks maybe that’s what pushed him over, though, and made his tongue move, to shape the question at all: it’s so fucking far from a bad thing that it’s…it makes too much lightness in Eddie that he’s never felt before. Even in the absolute shit of this entire situation, Eddie’s basically nonexistent future on the horizon if he manages somehow to make it out of the next 48 hours alive: this is something that makes him feel like he could hope.

Hope even for the most absolutely absurd fucking things.

And hope like that has to make anyone fucking selfish.

“This?” Steve glances indicatively between them, with a quirked brow that he pulls off perfectly but it can’t land like it should, not for Eddie who’s just watched this gorgeous human swallow the stages of grief whole where he’s…he’s pulled back, Eddie realizes, Eddie can’t feel him chest-to-chest anymore and the idea of it’s a crushing thing, but it’s got nothing on the reality—either way, though, he’s hovering over Eddie now, still close, likely has been for a while and…and shit: his arms hadn’t even given out.

What the fuck kind of…superhuman stuff is this man made of?

“Thought it was obvious,” Steve chuckles, and that part, that sound rings hollow: Eddie’s had enough of a latent-forever crush on this boy for enough years to maybe have never heard this kind of chuckle but, it’s off. Eddie knows it’s not…what it should be.

Steve laughing is some kind of sunshine, nearly always, like a rule. Eddie knows that much.

“Must have lost my charm,” Steve grimaces while he looks down, down, hides from...Eddie doesn’t know what from, exactly. Save that whatever it is, he wants to hide a little, too.

But hiding, now, means that he’ll turn from Steve. And Eddie…Eddie wants to hide from the nameless horrible thing that’s swelling up in the space around them.

But Eddie doesn’t want to miss a second of Steve. He’s kind of afraid of the very concept of it, missing any…part of Steve. He knows they’re on borrowed time. He’s also not entirely sure this isn’t all of fever dream, maybe he got scraped by one of the nasty-ass rusted nails in the boathouse and all of this is just tetanus or some shit. Maybe it’s the X-Men-knockoff wizard fucking with Eddie’s head by giving him the unthinkable sort of thing he’s always wanted.

Whatever it is: Eddie cannot miss a second of it.

“This, yeah,” Eddie reaches to brush Steve’s chest where his heart’s still pounding, even when it’s not presses flush to Eddie’s anymore, even when they’e stopped kissing too many minutes ago for an excuse; “you more that live up to the hype, big boy,” Eddie chuckles a little, tries to make it warm, fucking grateful; “exceed it even,” Eddie adds, can’t help but splay his fingers and stroke up and down a little over the street of Steve’s shirt.

“But,” because Eddie’s selfish. Because touching Steve slow like this, even as he’s so stiff and his pulse is so fucking scared: take out the frantic pace of what it means to feel him, and Eddie…the hope’s all the stronger, now. The wanting.

The selfishness.

“This,” and Eddie lets his hand move to the notch in Steve throat, like his body knew he’s feel the pulse there as much as the shiver, and the hard swallow after he asks, one more time:

“What is this.”

And Eddie forces his gaze from Steve’s skin to Steve’s face, where his eyes are blown and his color’s off, too pale even in the dark.

Where he’s fucking beautiful, even as he steels himself and takes a deep breath, less like a diver to the depths and more like a man facing an executioner. Jesus.

But his gaze is still so tender, like whatever hurt he comes to know for what he’s about to do is acceptable, so long as it doesn’t touch Eddie, doesn’t spill over. Like he’s…shielding Eddie from something worse than everything that’s already come, somehow, and that’s fucking terrifying in and of itself but—

But Steve—Steve who he barely knows but feels like he knows somewhere deep in his chest that feels knew and known somehow before these moments, like it was made only for the feelings and the certainties he holds in regard to Steve, Steve, Steve, like maybe that space inside of him was only made on some cosmic level not just for the person who made him feel this way against all odds, but maybe made only and specifically just for Steve—but Steve protecting Eddie, and hurting all the more for taking the hit?

It’s unacceptable. It’s sour in Eddie’s veins.

“If I fuck it up again, it won’t matter, I guess,” Steve seems to speak to himself, mutters low even for the soft quiet they’re holding between them. He doesn’t even know if he’s seeing Eddie for how far away he looks, sounds, like he’s reasoning with the universe.

That tips the sour feeling straight into full on sick.

But before Eddie can say anything, do anything, Steve’s sitting up, drawing back: Eddie can’t help the way he whimpers in the back of his throat for the loss; if the loss feels like more than just the closeness, the promise of it—if it feels like the moments to come are poised to change the world.

“Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?” Steve asks, implores. Eddie’s powerless against it.

His throat’s already too dry to do anything but nod.

Steve looks, nearly studies him, wide-eyed and needy and…Eddie just wants to hold him.

He just wants to hold him, and keep him.

“‘Kay,” Steve exhales heavy, shaky, like his heartbeat’s knocking around his lungs so there’s no possible world where he could have breathed out steady, where no one could, no matter how strong.

“I’m in love with you.”

Eddie—for wholly other reasons he suspects—gets his own dose of his lungs getting knocked around for how his heart trips and stumbles around those wholly fucking impossible and insane and desperately wanted words echo through his head, his ribs.

“And it might not make and fuckin’ sense to you, but,” and Steve’s breath hitches as he reaches, as he pauses like he’s not sure he’s allowed; “Eds,” and that’s not a thing he’s called so often, and certainly not in that tone, gutted but so steeped in…he said it and it’s true, because that name, hisname on Steve’s lips is fucking saturated in love and how, sure, but the fact of its undeniable enough that the semantics, the mechanics of it: irrelevant.

Would have mattered in the face of something lesser, but.

This isn’t that other-lesser thing.

So Eddie grabs those questioning hands and brings them to his cheeks where they’d been looking to land, to frame his face: to let them both feelthis, however it came to be, whatever else it holds inside.

He looks Steve in the eyes as he holds Steve’s hands to frame his own face like he’s something dear: because it is love. Unmistakably. Steve isn’t lying, or exaggerating.

And Eddie’s halfway fucking there with him, just to look at it.

Save for the way it also looks devastated. Also looks…in the kind of pain that doesn’t end, but somehow doesn’t fade. The scab you rip off to start the process over and over, to hurt all over again.

“I’ve been trying to save you so many times,” and Steve’s voice hitches some more around it, and it should probably cause more question, those words; should definitely cause more questions for Eddie himself, given how he accepts it so fast—the fairly clear implication.

“I’ve held your body in my hands so many times,” and Steve sounds broken for it in ways that even he, Edward Munson, who has seen what he’s seen these past few days, didn’t know a body, or a soul, could withstand and survive.

Also: okay. Okay.

More than an implication, before. Yep. Okay. But—

“Times?” Eddie finds himself croaking because…he’d jumped straight to saving his life but, but: times?

How many fucking times has Steve scratched the scar off and started again? How hard, how deep is the scar tissue?

“I’ve broken your ribs trying to convince this,” and Steve’s hand’s sliding down from one side of Eddie’s face to settle over Eddie’s still fumbling heart, hand stretched wide like it wants to hold the thing whole and true and safe: “to come back, back to me—”

And Steve’s voice cleaves down the center then, just flat out fucking gives out. And Eddie…

Eddie’s an impulsive person. Eddie’s not what you’d call…circumspect, doesn’t pull his punches once he feel inclined to run, to or from or alongside anything in his life.

And even he has never felt so strongly about anything than then thing that spills form him in absolute earnest, with the whole of his mess of a chest and the entire weight of his wild frantic heart:

“Sweetheart,” Eddie takes the one hand that’s not holding Steve’s to his face anymore and reaches, strokes his thumb so gently over Steve bottom lip, and yeah he takes in the way Steve’s eyes widen for it, the way he shifts from shattered to shocked in a second: but it’s all peripheral.

But the whole of Eddie is invested in the one thing he needs to know. More than he needs air to fucking breathe:

“How can I stay with you?”

And he watches Steve’s jaw drop as he moves his hand from those lips to cover Steve’s own hand one more time, still on toppings chest and he doesn’t think twice before damn near close-on begging:

“What do I need to do?”

Steve stills. Blinks.

“What?”

“I might not have had the pleasure just yet,” Eddie tries to sort the words out as he goes because his heart hurts so hard but at the same time it’s so full: “but I’m looking at you,” and he is, he’s looking at Steve and seeing so much, so many things, things that are there and things that could be there in the foreseeable future and things that Eddie can fantasize and dream of being his whole-ass future and just, just, just—

“You love me?”

Steve nods, lips still parted. No hesitation. Not a question.

Jesus.

And Eddie’s heart’s still racing, faster now, even but for…

Not just for fear, or shock, or lust, or…any of it.

Not for anything so simple as all that, now.

“And I die?” Eddie chides himself when Steve flinches ever so slightly, tries to find a gentler way to pitch the words when he speaks again because the point itself is thorny, he can’t make it soft:

“I’ve,” Eddie licks his lips; “I’ve died a lot of times?”

And he waits, and Steve’s blinks a lot of time really fucking fast, but then, again: he nods.

And Eddie’s heart hurts harder at the confirmation, and Steve’s clear bid not to shed a single fucking year—his heart hurts harder, but poundsharder for bigger reasons because fuck, fuck—

“And you’ve loved me enough to somehow bend time and space to try and undo it, to try and stop it?”

And if Steve’s got the trick to that magic, it stills the moment, stops time around them both as Eddie sees the words as they sink in for Steve, as they register and shift the shade of his gaze ever so slightly, brighter and deeper and magnetic and Eddie…

Eddie doesn’t need him to nod. Just looking him, just feeling everything that gaze is giving, solely for him, is all the answer he needs.

“So how do I get even the chance to stick around enough to deserve it?” Eddie asks, because he needs to know so that he can make sure he does it to the letter, and then fifty million times over to be sure. “To get to feel it full on,” because for as much as he’s already feeling, he can’t only imagine what it would be to feel it for an hour, a day, a week, a…a lifetime. He can only image.

And he fucking wants.

“What do I have to do to be able to feel this for more than a couple minutes,” and Steve’s eyes shift again, because he hears what Eddie’s saying, not hiding so much as trying to cram in: he feels this already, and at the same time knows it’s sample sized when what he craves, what he needs is something too big to measure; “to feel this, and return it twenty-fold and for the long haul,” and Steve’s still staring, still kinda gaping, so Eddie forces himself to pause, to ask even if everything points to a singular answer—he forces himself to wait and make super fucking sure:

“If you’ll have me?”

Steve blinks, frowns, then asks, voice hoarse:

“You believe me?” and he says it so slow, disbelieving himself. “Like, you get what I’m saying, and you, you,” he flounders, looks cast adrift and closer to tears now than he’s been yet and Eddie…

Eddie can’t let that just be.

“Of course I do.”

And maybe it’s not of course exactly, in the sense that Eddie doesn’t have questions, like a fuckton of questions but: he doesn’t have doubt, not in Steve. Somehow of all that he doesn’t know and that makes no sense, he does know that Steve is where his faith—if he was ever going to have any in anything—is meant to sit, whatever that means, whatever that demands accepting.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says with so much of himself he never knew was actually inside him to speak, to beg such truth. He didn’t know.

“So please, please tell me,” he fucking please it; “what do I do?”

Because he knows now. The breadth of what can, could, does, will live in his chest. And once he knows it?

He’s gonna fight like hell to have the whole of it. For always.

“To get to have this,” Eddie reaches, can’t help but brush some of Steve’s hair behind his ear and just…consider him. Marvel a little at the fact that the world is changing, Eddie can feel it, and it’s because this man loves him.

Him.

“This thing I’ve never even considered getting to know,” Eddie strokes Steve’s jaw and asks the only question left:

“What do I have to do to have the chance fall in love with you?”

Because Eddie doesn’t care if he has to lob off a fucking arm. He’ll do it. He’ll learn to play his guitar with his goddamn feet before he lets this chance go.

“Don’t be a hero.”

Eddie’s face must do something at the sorta sudden kind of outburst from Steve, because Steve ducks his head down a little and smiles almost apologetic, and still so fucking sad.

“I tell you not to be cute about it, and not to try to be a hero, but you are, you do, every time,” Steve tells him, explains, and that part at least tracks: he’s a contrarian to his detriment but…he doesn’t want to believe he’d do it when the stakes are this high. Not without a good reason and he can’t…imagine a good enough reason to leave this man so broken, and still fighting nonetheless.

He can’t imagine any reason in the whole fucking world good enough for that.

“Then I won’t,” Eddie says, because: well. It’s an easy fix in general, but like, he’s no fucking hero, so then it’s even easier.

“You will,” Steve smiles the saddest goddamn smile Eddie’s ever seen in his whole entire life., I too of the string of sad smiles he’s been treated to so far. “You always do,” and the resignation in stage a tone is only outweighed by the…pride, almost, for what he’s declaring against all odds to be true.

“Just, just,” Steve seems to debate with himself for a second, maybe whether he wants to fight the weight of established precedent one more time, wants to scratch off that scab in a whole knew way, because it felt like Steve was watching this play out different when Eddie believed him, and asked to work with him to make the wrongs right instead of aiding the process of his own ruin, and what looked like Steve’s own process of self-immolation in slow motion, over and again. Eddie gets why he pauses.

But it’s not even long enough to be called hesitation, really, before he’s diving in and giving Eddie the playbook, with no guarantee or even a whole lot of hope based on existing evidence to trust.

Eddie feels the magnitude of the living in a whole new way, on a whole new level, for that, as Steve speaks:

“When you do, when you’re a hero again because you always are, I need you to run when you’re done. We will be okay, I know what I’m dealing with now, I know how,” Steve says with. Steel creeping into his tone and Eddie wants more than anything to know what he’s planning to deal with, how Steve plans to stay safe because now Eddie’s heart’s tied up on the opposite end of the equation and he…he can’t survive and have it only flip the tables, have there still be a loss because Eddie’s not made of what Steve’s made of, and sure he’s only had a taste of this, but he…

He won’t survive losing it. Even just the taste.

“Don’t buy us more time,” Steve cuts back into Eddie’s headspace, the more important voice; the most important; “you do more than enough, I need you to trust me and I know you don’t have a reason to—“

“I trust you.”

And that’s unequivocal. Eddie trusts Steve. The end.

“How will I know when I’m done?” Because if Steve’s willing to go through this for him, he’s going to fucking take notes to make sure he does his part in turns, makes sure this is the last fucking time.

“Play the puppet master song,” which Steve doesn’t know, no way he’d fucking know on his own and Eddie didn’t doubt, but, like…

Jesus.

It takes a fucking second, just digesting what it means to be right for no doubting. It’s heady. Terrifying.

But also like stars in his stomach. He feels reborn in the simple reality of believing in this person who loves him this hard.

“Block the vents, don’t ignore the vents. When Dustin goes up the rope, you follow. Pull it up after you and block it off, hold them off in case any stragglers stick around,” Steve tells him, doesn’t sound skeptical, exactly, but just…maybe wary. Rightly so, given the…previous rounds of things. “We’ll need you to throw it back to us when we’re done.”

Eddie feels his face screw up a little because he wasn’t paying the most attention but he really thinks, like:

“Aren’t there closer gates—“

“I’ll need to,” Steve swallows hard, the bob in his throat almost painful to watch because Eddie can almost imagine the weight of it, the way the same motion’s been repeated so many times and yet he’s still at it, he’s still trying—

For Eddie. Jesus fuck.

“I’ll need to see.”

And if the hard-swallow wasn’t heartbreaking—again, every time Eddie thinks he’s been gutted entirely Steve goes and ups the fucking ante, good god, and he keeps doing this? He continues to say yes to this, these feelings, this, this…this, because if, for, for…

But regardless how you slice it: the way Steve’s voice cracks, on just those four words?

Holy fucking Christ—this has to be what’ll kill Eddie harder, deeper down than anything Steve’s trying to save him from.

“I won’t fail you this time, Steve.”

And Eddie means it, even if the words themselves spill from him automatic: they’re there to spill at all because Eddie means it, because Eddie’s heart’s never felt swollen like this before and he wants to give whatever it’s all fat and tender with to this man he barely knows but…maybe he knows more important things about him than he knows about most people in his life. Nearly all people in his life.

And that’s fucking has to count for something. For more than something.

“Eddie,” Steve starts, like he wants to argue some point but Eddie isn’t gonna have that, not now.

Not ever again, if he has anything to fucking say about it.

“No,” Eddie cuts him off and this time, this time, it’s Eddie who reaches and cradles Steve’s face, holds him like he’s precious, as much as he can because this man is precious beyond reason, but human hands are only capable of so much care: he gives what he can.

He knows it’s not enough, and hopes his heart in his words will make up the difference.

“No, this,” and he runs the pads of his thumbs beneath Steve’s eyes, because as gorgeous as they are, as he is: those eyes used to be bright. They were bright…before. When did they change, when did Steve from now like Eddie become Steve who’s tried to start Eddie’s heart with his own hands, and couldn’t?

Doesn’t matter.

Steve’s eyes aren’t supposed to be hollow behind the color; there’s only supposed to be the sunshine.

Not the endless dark.

“I’ve been taking it away, haven’t I?” Eddie breathes out in a level of horror at the realization that’s settling in the more he looks at Steve, and reads the toll he’s been paying, for Eddie. “I hate that, I hate that I—“

“Eddie,” Steve breathes, and the only shine in his eyes is tears and it’s wrong, it’s just wrong.

“It gets taken away because yours isn’t there anymore,” Steve reaches back, now, and holds Eddie’s face in his broad hands: “the light in you,” and his voice cracks and he blinks and one tear.

One tear falls.

Eddie’s sternum splits in two.

“I want to know what it is to fall in love with you,” Eddie says in a rush, demands on the whole fucking cosmos: “the whole way, because I think I’m already halfway there,” and it’s true, it’s true because he’d give his life for Steve already so he understands, of Steve’s in longer and deeper, why he’s fighting despite the hurt, but, but…

No more.

“And I want to earn it,” Eddie tells him. “I want you to fall for me not just because of, because of life and death stuff, or tied up in losing,” Eddie tries to fit the avalanche of feelings in him to words, prays it’s enough:

“I want it to be a,” he chokes, shakes his head and bites his tongue: “a good thing,” because he wants to be a good thing for this man. He wants to be only a good thing, as best he knows how.

“You are a good thing,” Steve counters, and fierce with it; “you’re the best thing.”

Eddie’s not strong enough to hold himself to just one tear when the floodgates break.

“I run when Henderson runs,” he breathes shakily. It’s a vow more than anything he knows how to give.

“You don’t run,” Steve tells him, so soothing, still so protective of Eddie, always protective of Eddie; “you’re so fucking brave, and you save our asses,” and he brings their foreheads to lean against each other as Eddie’s inhales trembles: “you’re just gonna fall back this time, so you don’t break my heart, too, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie would agree to anything, at this point; this is easy. This he can do, no problem.

This he will do, no question.

“I’m sorry,” he finds himself whispering, because…because he has to.

He is so fucking sorry.

“You’re…” Steve starts, uncomprehending as Eddie just shakes his head, almost like a compulsion.

“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you so many times,” Eddie hissed through clenched teeth, tries not to descend into blubbering, tries to maintain something like, if not composure, the capacity to be heard and known when he promises with his whole heart:

“I won’t do it again, I swear.”

And Steve watches him, eyes red rimmed and still brimming but carefully, assessing.

Eddie can help, though. He can put him a little bit at ease, or damn well fucking try.

“I already feel something,” and he brings Steve’s hand to his chest again, reminds them both his heart’s still beating in this world, in this time. “And I’m too selfish Steve.”

Steve cocks his head in question; Eddie wants to watch this man’s quirks, learn the minutiae of his every expression.

Forever.

“I need the whole shebang.”

Steve smiles, watery and still strained but less sad, and that’s something.

It’s all they have time for, because he can hear everybody coming back with supplies, remembers they’d been prepping for war.

It’s all the have time for—for now.

“I’m holding you to that,” Steve says, a little watery, a little shaky, a little unconvinced but wholly filled with love, still, and all together isn’t only serves to harden Eddie’s resolve that much more.

“You flake on me again?” Steve flips his fingers backward against Eddie’s shoulder in a poor excuse for a smack: “I’m gonna tie you to the driver’s seat next time, and leave Nance with Dustin.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Eddie answers, dead serious; “except for one thing.”

There’s something molten, a glint that isn’t tears when Steve lifts a brow in askance; when Eddie leans in and kisses Steve hard, deep, quick because they have to but it doesn’t have to be anything else because he leaves his heart and soul in the exchange, willingly and willfully and all fucking in.

“There’s gonna be a next time for that. I swear to god,” Eddie murmurs against Steve slips when he pulls back; “we’re gonna have so many next times.”

And when the door to the RV bursts open and everyone else spills in, Steve’s lips are a little swollen if you’re looking.

And Steve’s eyes still have that light.

For @klausinamarink, who requested 'The Light Behind Your Eyes—My Chemical Romance' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @sadisticaltarts

divider credit here

💫 ao3 link here

[cuips-not-cute]

"What did it feel like?" Steve asks sometime later, a new day ahead of them both. "Dying, I mean. Being dead."

Eddie pauses, dog-earing the page on his book to look up at Steve. He places it down on the couch beside him, scooting closer to lean his head down against Steve's shoulder.

"Not sure I remember, really." Eddie says. "I think it was dark. Like a big void. I'd be there in the real world and something would hurt, hurt bad, and then it'd just...stop. It'd go dark, and then I'd be slamming you into the wall again."

Steve hums thoughtfully. He'd died a few times, too. But he'd mostly just gone to that in-between place as the loops started up again. "You think that's what waits for us?" Steve asks. "When we do die?"

Eddie's quiet, his hand finding Steve's and lacing their fingers together, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. "I don't think so," Eddie says finally. "I don't think I was ever really dead."

excerpt from the last chapter of my newly completed fic, cyclical❤️

or, read from the beginning <3

[izzy-hands]

#every steddie timeloop fix-it fic be like {x}

[clownrosary]

CLOWNROSARY OFFICIAL STONATHAN FIC RECS

if u follow me on twitter, you may have seen that i made a silly "stonathan wrapped" presentation for some friends :) and part of that was a list of all my fav stonathan fics, which i am sharing w u all today <3

these will all be sorted by genre, and include WC + some tags!

happy reading :D

FLUFF

wild is the wind - seraphy (first kiss, hurt/comfort) - 9k

no kingdom to come - lesbianrobin (established relationship) - 1k

Please linger in my doorway. - Lynnn_x (secret relationship) - 3k

Hey Sailor - Star_Madison, Xirayn (humor, script/screenplay format) - 1k

you just keep me hanging on - Kypros (slice of life, friends to lovers) - 15k

Into Slumber - listlessness (established relationship, massage) - 1k

sun in an empty room - Kypros (gender roles, internalized homophobia) - 5k

prepared for absolution (if only you’d ask) - delusionaltogether (slice of life, friends to lovers) - 18k

Plastic stars. - Lynnn_x (established relationship, sharing a bed) - 800

terms (of endearment) and conditions - dharmainitiative (established relationship, sickfic) - 1k

ANGST

teenage wasteland - kypros (Steve character study, non-linear) - 3k

halfway to home - fastcardotmp3 (grief/mourning, friends to lovers, past steddie) - 15k

Mondegreen - Xirayn (post-canon, Kas!Eddie) - 3k

bruises that won’t heal - witchjeons (exes) - 3k

Great Pretender - BenLMoore (childhood friends, trauma) - 13k

All this, and love too - (Steve character study) - 4k

Five Stages of Moving On - listlessness (epistolary, pining) - 1k

the free fall - kypros (established relationship, angst) - 4k

AU (MODERN)

i bet you think about me - dharmainitiative (exes, miscommunication, hopeful ending) - 38k

june bug versus hurricane - until_then (angst, baseball, hopeful ending) - 27k

Big Mouth - loudsnapdragon (FWB, miscommunication, happy ending) - 35k

Those people problems. - Lynnn_x (developing relationship, slice of life) - 21k

AU (CHILDHOOD FRIENDS)

The Way the World Ends - KidA_666 (exes, angst) - 22k

And if you lost it all, (and you lost it) - GibbousLunation (pacific rim, angst) - 11k

and i danced myself to death - flwrgardens (coming of age, non-linear) - 11k

SERIES

The Chicago Chronicles - lithium_creep (roommates, getting together, domestic fluff) - 11 works

Undone (Like Me) - ceruleanandconvalescence (childhood friends, POV alternating, angst) - 2 works

A Catalog of Non-Definitive Acts - KidA_666 (slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers) - 4 works

IN PROGRESS

Old Friends and Dead Ends - stott183 (boxing)

nowhereland - kypros (timeloop) 

So It Goes - KidA_666 (reincarnation)

A Haunted House With a Picket Fence - nay_na (apocalypse)

[steddieunderdogfics]

The Lathe by AroaceMoron

a German translation of the lathe by palmviolet

Rating: Mature

18,585 words, 3/13 chapters

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time LoopFix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Temporary Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, gratuitous use of chekhov's gun, Slow Burn, it takes getting stuck in a time loop for steve harrington to Realise Things about himself, Protective Steve Harrington, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, 80's Music, Survivor Guilt, Eddie Munson Lives (eventually), eldritch horror, Hurt/Comfort, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Dungeons & Dragons References, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, the inherent existential dread of repeating the same day over and over, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, someone needs to give steve and eddie a break, that someone is not me, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, german translation

Summary:

GERMAN TRANSLATION THE ENGLISH ORIGINAL WAS WRITTEN BY PALMVIOLET UNDER THE SAME NAME „Dieses Mal wird er es richtig machen. Dieses Mal wird Eddie weder in seinen Armen verbluten, noch in irgendjemand Anderes Armen. Dieses Mal wird Steve es richtig machen.“ – Oder, Steve durchlebt den Tag, an dem sie versuchen, Vecna zu töten, immer und immer wieder und Eddie kann einfach nicht aufhören zu sterben. Steve findet das völlig inakzeptabel.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics in Non-English Languages.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[i-am-but-a-holyman]

finally making an intro

song i'm normal about this week - baby blackout ~ daisy grenade

I MADE A KILLJOY RP BLOG -> @1uckycharmx GO RP WITH ME (still very bare but i am working on it) EDIT : I LOST THE PASSWORD TO THE KILLJOY RP BLOG

THESE ARE MADE BY @horseshoemybeloved AND I LOVE THEM

(cut necessary because i am the yappiest of yappers)

no i couldn't resist putting the blinkies i'm sorry

❤️ FOB, MCR, old P!ATD, PTV, KoRn, Smashing Pumpkins, Metallica, Iron Maiden, Daisy Grenade, IDKHow, NIN, Linkin Park, Lil Witchy, Cobra Starship, Green Day, Muse, Millionaires, Limp Bizkit, The Cure

❤️ Saw FOB 7/19/23 and 3/30/24, Saviors Tour 9/2/24 :)

🦇 world's meanest Dungeon Master

❤️ Borderline worrisome love of Rocky Horror & Lost Boys + seen nearly every Tim Burton movie too many times

🩵 also into Breakfast Club, Stand By Me, The Outsiders, BTTF1-3, insert stereotypical 80s movie here

🖤 AND NOW I WATCH ANIME APPARENTLY i fucking love deathnote and alien stage and i was really into black butler for a while there

❤️ not the first or the last, but possibly the prettiest.

🪶it can't rain all the time🪶

⚡️ my Crow and Lost Boys graphics above and below were made by the amazing @irldenji :)

💣 and my heart hand grenade was made by @ziggy-stardust-is-in-love :)

ANDDD my oct 19 prophecy was made by @youmustfixyourheartt

🌪🩷 proud friend of dorothy

❤️ Genderfluid, any/all pronouns :) but no matter what the gender is this will always be my girlblog

❤️ Finally overcoming my shame to reveal I'm on ao3, practically trapped in a timeloop with how I'm writing the same three plots over and over and

🖤 and i have a fanfiction sideblog @magic8tally

❤️ mcr5 is real

💗RECOMMEND ME SC3N3 MUSIC PLZ, I NEED MORE BANDS TO LISTEN TO

🎸 stranger things (steddie & jopper & byler)

🍑someone stole all my fruit🍑

❤️ killjoy name - lucky charm

❤️ dip n pip LOVER

if you read all that i'm throwing a cookie at you 🩷

[spicysix]

Fanfic Writer Appreciation day ♡

i stole this idea from @1lostsoul0fishbowl, and in celebration for Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day, i've decided to list 21 of my favorite fics! a few of them i've talked about before, and a few are very well known but still deserve to be talked about again. i'm tagging the authors if i know their tumblrs!

i divided them into two lists, a purely Steddie one (my otp y'know) and a second one for everything else (other ships, X readers, other fandoms etc)

without further ado, in no particular order, here is (under the cut cause the lists are LONG, babes):

Steddie

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting. by @badpancakelol - timeloop

You're Divine by @azrielgreen - Kas!Eddie

i can give you a heartbeat by soupbitchin - ghost!Eddie

Looks like we're in for nasty weather by @geddyqueer - modern AU, ghost whisperer!Eddie, cryptids

Straight Knife Through The Heart by @relenafanel - modern AU, rockstar!Eddie

New York Hardcore by @grandmastattoo - punk!Steve

your cosmic call sign by @nancywheeeler - aliens!AU

Wild Geese by watchcatewrite - roadtrip

the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by @greatunironic - rockstar!Eddie, found family

your love is standing next to me by @fivecenturiesverse - rockstars AU, social media fic

STEVE’S FIRST BRUISE by cairparavels - spider man!Steve

took you for a working boy by @pukner - genderqueer!Steve

this love came back to me by @strawberryspence - rockstar!Steve

i could be honest, i could be human by @steves-strapcollection

what's left of my lungs by WirtWilt - hanahaki disease

echo by @grandmastattoo - timeloop

wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name by DotyTakeThisDown - BDSM, sex club master!Eddie

Petals in a Storm by @inairbinad

Eddie's Memory Log by @harmonictechnicality

this demo will save your life by oh_simone - 'rockstar'!Eddie, band manager!Steve. characterization of all times

STRIKE TEN. by @metaldeads - scoops era

Others

The Entire History Of Human Desire by KidA_666 - ST / stonathan

Dreaming Of You by Koken - Marvel / stucky X reader - reader has powers

Harmless by @shurisneakers - Marvel / bucky X reader - 'villain'!Reader, lovely crack, perry VS doofenshmirtz dynamic

Hive by Rattle - SDV / sebastian X sam X farmer - there's a big plot twist here. best SDV fic ever

Trinity Epoch by @heli0s-writes - Marvel / stucky X reader / pacific rim AU (honestly anything by helios is amazing)

matters of taste by @fairyysoup - ST / steddie X reader - bakery AU

half of my soul by @graysonnightwing - ST / steve&robin - platonic soulmates get platonically maried

Over & Over by @beetlesandstarss - ST / ronance - this one hurts like a bitch but it's delicious

burning yarrow by @storiesbyrhi - ST / eddie X reader - witch!Reader, vampire!Eddie (literally anything by Rhi, but this one's my favorite)

don't delete the kisses by @stevenose - ST / steve X reader - camboy!Steve

We Tried The World by @upsidedownwithsteve - ST / steve X reader - roadtrip (again, anything by Emmy is great but her roadtrip Steve is top tier and this fic was a huge inspiration to me personally)

No Such Thing by lattebiscuit - Marvel / bucky X reader - college AU

We Got A Lovin' Thing by lattebiscuit - ST / steddie X reader

Helping Hands by MutantsandSoldiers - Marvel / bucky X reader, stucky X reader - ABO, mutant!Reader

Howler & the Black Cat by bajablessed - Marvel / bucky X reader - vigilante!Reader

Sunshine Blend Dark Roast by @icallhimjoey - RPF / joe quinn X reader - barista!Reader (again, anything by this author is an instant hit. i had to close my eyes and point at the screen to choose randomly because i couldn't pick one myself)

no good at waiting by @familyvideostevie - ST / steve X reader - farmers market AU

in a dark, dark room by @carolmunson - ST / Eddie X reader - kas!Eddie. this one just dropped and it's an instant hit. it's dark so beware!

Like Real People Do by @myosotisa - ST / eddie X reader - drug addicts, rehab clinic, beware of triggers

Bad Influence by @dearest-readers - ST / eddie X reader - pornstars AU

coffee shop blues by @ghost-proofbaby- ST / eddie X reader - barista!Reader, barista!Eddie, grumpy VS sunshine trope

WHOOF! *wipes forehead* that was some work. i obviously couldn't fit all my favorite fics of all times here, but i did my best to bring great content! (i thought about dividing into 3 lists and make an X reader specific one but....i was too tired of searching for links already lmao)

i have many other great recs in my fics recs tag here and on my ao3 bookmarks so if you trust my judgment and want more fics to read, those are always public!

shout out to all the amazing fic writers on all sides of these fandoms that i love and admire, and know that you are very appreciated on this fic writer appreciation day! ♡♡