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[unclejezzzy]

Finn Wolfhard, Noah Schnapp, Caleb McLaughlin, Gaten Matarazzo, Natalia Dyer, Joe Keery, Charlie Heaton, David Harbour, and Winona Ryder on the set of Stranger Things 5

[unclejezzzy]

Final part is coming out this week!!!

Aren't You The Sweetest Thing On This Side of Hell | Part 5 of I Despise My Rotten Mind (And How Much It Worships You)

It's 1990. Following the fire at Club Venus, Eddie is forced to confront his past in order to make his relationship with Steve work.

Eddie's chest ached.

He had been staring at the back of Steve's head for around half an hour, watching him breathe. And his chest ached.

But he was noticing. He noticed the strands of gold in his hair that weaved throughout the layers of chestnut. Never being too loud, never drawing attention to themselves. He noticed the changing hues from the tan of his skin past the neckline of his shirt, and the never before seen moles that dappled along it.

He wondered if he dragged his fingers across them to connect them, they'd show him to some sort of pot of gold.

Eddie used these stolen moments of complete silence like a lifeline. Just watching Steve breathe and sigh, unaware of the world around him in his slumber. It felt like a reward. For what? He didn't know. But he must have done something right along the way to deserve this. Or maybe - it was a blessing for everything wrong that had happened to him.

In the same way that he was noticing, he was starting to panic. This could be his life, now. Exactly as they are now.

And there was that voice. That guy. Hanging off the side of his neck with his canines buried in the flesh, telling him he was no good for it. He was no good for any of it.

He loved his solitude. He loved basking in the aloneness of it all. But he felt as though maybe he could be made for this too, if his self would allow it. He could be a good lover. He wanted to be.

But he wasn't soft like Steve. He wasn't instinctively kind or enthusiastic like Steve. He didn't see the good in people like Steve. But maybe the two of them were the same in a way. They had both been worn away with acts of hatred and violence to become gentle like this with one another.

Steve stirred, taking a sharp intake of breath through his nostrils as Eddie didn't dare move, eyes wide and body frozen in place.

He quickly averted his gaze to the ceiling, arms folded tightly across his chest. He soon realised that it's probably kinda weird to be staring intently at another person the second they wake up.

Steve groaned softly, stretching out his arms underneath his pillow as he acclimatised himself in his consciousness. Eddie peered at him out of the corner of his eye, now affronted with the all encompassing vision before him.

"Hey." Steve smiled, voice strained as he wiped the sleep out from his eyes.

"Hi." Eddie said, biting back a smile that spread far too easily across his lips.

Was it natural for somebody to look this beautiful the second they open their eyes? It wasn't perfect by any means. It wasn't the kinda beauty you see in movies when the actors wake up and somehow their hair and makeup was pristine and they had just the right amount of rouge on their cheeks. That was unrealistic. That glowy, ethereal bullshit.

It was beautiful because it was real. His stubble had darkened ever so slightly, his eyes were puffy and red, lips chapped and eyes watery. Eddie had built dreams around something like this.

"You sleep okay?" Steve asked - scratching his head as he scooped his hair up and out of his face, still laying on his stomach.

"Mhm." Eddie hummed. "You?"

"Yeah, not bad." Steve smiled this giddy, gleaming smile that made Eddie's insides churn.

"Good." Eddie acknowledged quietly.

"Hand?" Steve asked firmly, his pointer finger prodding against the flesh of Eddie's exposed wrist that sat atop his ribcage.

Eddie flexed his fingers beneath the bandage that had loosened in his sleep. His skin tight and tender. "Mm. Lil' sore. But - fine."

"Make sure you change those bandages. Let it breathe a bit before it gets all weepy and gross." Steve spoke sternly as Eddie bungled out a laugh.

"Yes, Doctor Harrington."

"You wish." Steve shot back with a short smirk.

Eddie did wish. But he wasn't going to let the thought of Steve in a full Doctors getup, stethoscope and all, make his already uncomfortable morning situation any more uncomfortable.

"Did I snore - at all? I'm just feeling a little congested. I get allergies in the Summer."

He gets allergies in the Summer. Of course he does. He's fucking perfect.

"Not that I noticed. If you did I slept through it." Eddie shrugged. "Did I?" He asked, a sudden whelm of self consciousness engulfing him.

"No."

"Hm." Eddie resided, nodding to himself. "You did kick me a couple times but it's fine."

"You must have deserved it." Steve snarked with no bite.

"I don't doubt it."

Eddie watched Steve's throat expand and shrink as he swallowed hard. He propped himself up on his elbows, drinking in the morning before he exhaled deeply. He glanced around the room before his gaze fully settled on Eddie again.

"It's nice actually, waking up and you still being here." Steve eventually sighed. "Got worried for a sec that maybe you wouldn't be."

Eddie turned onto his side, cheek nestled against the plush of the pillow so he could really look. "Got worried for a sec that maybe you wouldn't want me to be."

Continue reading on AO3

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Incase you missed it 👹

Aren't You The Sweetest Thing On This Side of Hell | Part 5 of I Despise My Rotten Mind (And How Much It Worships You)

It's 1990. Following the fire at Club Venus, Eddie is forced to confront his past in order to make his relationship with Steve work.

Eddie's chest ached.

He had been staring at the back of Steve's head for around half an hour, watching him breathe. And his chest ached.

But he was noticing. He noticed the strands of gold in his hair that weaved throughout the layers of chestnut. Never being too loud, never drawing attention to themselves. He noticed the changing hues from the tan of his skin past the neckline of his shirt, and the never before seen moles that dappled along it.

He wondered if he dragged his fingers across them to connect them, they'd show him to some sort of pot of gold.

Eddie used these stolen moments of complete silence like a lifeline. Just watching Steve breathe and sigh, unaware of the world around him in his slumber. It felt like a reward. For what? He didn't know. But he must have done something right along the way to deserve this. Or maybe - it was a blessing for everything wrong that had happened to him.

In the same way that he was noticing, he was starting to panic. This could be his life, now. Exactly as they are now.

And there was that voice. That guy. Hanging off the side of his neck with his canines buried in the flesh, telling him he was no good for it. He was no good for any of it.

He loved his solitude. He loved basking in the aloneness of it all. But he felt as though maybe he could be made for this too, if his self would allow it. He could be a good lover. He wanted to be.

But he wasn't soft like Steve. He wasn't instinctively kind or enthusiastic like Steve. He didn't see the good in people like Steve. But maybe the two of them were the same in a way. They had both been worn away with acts of hatred and violence to become gentle like this with one another.

Steve stirred, taking a sharp intake of breath through his nostrils as Eddie didn't dare move, eyes wide and body frozen in place.

He quickly averted his gaze to the ceiling, arms folded tightly across his chest. He soon realised that it's probably kinda weird to be staring intently at another person the second they wake up.

Steve groaned softly, stretching out his arms underneath his pillow as he acclimatised himself in his consciousness. Eddie peered at him out of the corner of his eye, now affronted with the all encompassing vision before him.

"Hey." Steve smiled, voice strained as he wiped the sleep out from his eyes.

"Hi." Eddie said, biting back a smile that spread far too easily across his lips.

Was it natural for somebody to look this beautiful the second they open their eyes? It wasn't perfect by any means. It wasn't the kinda beauty you see in movies when the actors wake up and somehow their hair and makeup was pristine and they had just the right amount of rouge on their cheeks. That was unrealistic. That glowy, ethereal bullshit.

It was beautiful because it was real. His stubble had darkened ever so slightly, his eyes were puffy and red, lips chapped and eyes watery. Eddie had built dreams around something like this.

"You sleep okay?" Steve asked - scratching his head as he scooped his hair up and out of his face, still laying on his stomach.

"Mhm." Eddie hummed. "You?"

"Yeah, not bad." Steve smiled this giddy, gleaming smile that made Eddie's insides churn.

"Good." Eddie acknowledged quietly.

"Hand?" Steve asked firmly, his pointer finger prodding against the flesh of Eddie's exposed wrist that sat atop his ribcage.

Eddie flexed his fingers beneath the bandage that had loosened in his sleep. His skin tight and tender. "Mm. Lil' sore. But - fine."

"Make sure you change those bandages. Let it breathe a bit before it gets all weepy and gross." Steve spoke sternly as Eddie bungled out a laugh.

"Yes, Doctor Harrington."

"You wish." Steve shot back with a short smirk.

Eddie did wish. But he wasn't going to let the thought of Steve in a full Doctors getup, stethoscope and all, make his already uncomfortable morning situation any more uncomfortable.

"Did I snore - at all? I'm just feeling a little congested. I get allergies in the Summer."

He gets allergies in the Summer. Of course he does. He's fucking perfect.

"Not that I noticed. If you did I slept through it." Eddie shrugged. "Did I?" He asked, a sudden whelm of self consciousness engulfing him.

"No."

"Hm." Eddie resided, nodding to himself. "You did kick me a couple times but it's fine."

"You must have deserved it." Steve snarked with no bite.

"I don't doubt it."

Eddie watched Steve's throat expand and shrink as he swallowed hard. He propped himself up on his elbows, drinking in the morning before he exhaled deeply. He glanced around the room before his gaze fully settled on Eddie again.

"It's nice actually, waking up and you still being here." Steve eventually sighed. "Got worried for a sec that maybe you wouldn't be."

Eddie turned onto his side, cheek nestled against the plush of the pillow so he could really look. "Got worried for a sec that maybe you wouldn't want me to be."

Continue reading on AO3

[unclejezzzy]

Continuing my slutty 80s crop top agenda

[unclejezzzy]

Ponerle caritas a los lunares la rompe

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NANCY WHEELER in STRANGER THINGS (2016-) 1x06 | “The Monster”

[unclejezzzy]

Part 5 is out now! We’re at the final hurdle!!!

Aren't You The Sweetest Thing On This Side of Hell | Part 5 of I Despise My Rotten Mind (And How Much It Worships You)

It's 1990. Following the fire at Club Venus, Eddie is forced to confront his past in order to make his relationship with Steve work.

Eddie's chest ached.

He had been staring at the back of Steve's head for around half an hour, watching him breathe. And his chest ached.

But he was noticing. He noticed the strands of gold in his hair that weaved throughout the layers of chestnut. Never being too loud, never drawing attention to themselves. He noticed the changing hues from the tan of his skin past the neckline of his shirt, and the never before seen moles that dappled along it.

He wondered if he dragged his fingers across them to connect them, they'd show him to some sort of pot of gold.

Eddie used these stolen moments of complete silence like a lifeline. Just watching Steve breathe and sigh, unaware of the world around him in his slumber. It felt like a reward. For what? He didn't know. But he must have done something right along the way to deserve this. Or maybe - it was a blessing for everything wrong that had happened to him.

In the same way that he was noticing, he was starting to panic. This could be his life, now. Exactly as they are now.

And there was that voice. That guy. Hanging off the side of his neck with his canines buried in the flesh, telling him he was no good for it. He was no good for any of it.

He loved his solitude. He loved basking in the aloneness of it all. But he felt as though maybe he could be made for this too, if his self would allow it. He could be a good lover. He wanted to be.

But he wasn't soft like Steve. He wasn't instinctively kind or enthusiastic like Steve. He didn't see the good in people like Steve. But maybe the two of them were the same in a way. They had both been worn away with acts of hatred and violence to become gentle like this with one another.

Steve stirred, taking a sharp intake of breath through his nostrils as Eddie didn't dare move, eyes wide and body frozen in place.

He quickly averted his gaze to the ceiling, arms folded tightly across his chest. He soon realised that it's probably kinda weird to be staring intently at another person the second they wake up.

Steve groaned softly, stretching out his arms underneath his pillow as he acclimatised himself in his consciousness. Eddie peered at him out of the corner of his eye, now affronted with the all encompassing vision before him.

"Hey." Steve smiled, voice strained as he wiped the sleep out from his eyes.

"Hi." Eddie said, biting back a smile that spread far too easily across his lips.

Was it natural for somebody to look this beautiful the second they open their eyes? It wasn't perfect by any means. It wasn't the kinda beauty you see in movies when the actors wake up and somehow their hair and makeup was pristine and they had just the right amount of rouge on their cheeks. That was unrealistic. That glowy, ethereal bullshit.

It was beautiful because it was real. His stubble had darkened ever so slightly, his eyes were puffy and red, lips chapped and eyes watery. Eddie had built dreams around something like this.

"You sleep okay?" Steve asked - scratching his head as he scooped his hair up and out of his face, still laying on his stomach.

"Mhm." Eddie hummed. "You?"

"Yeah, not bad." Steve smiled this giddy, gleaming smile that made Eddie's insides churn.

"Good." Eddie acknowledged quietly.

"Hand?" Steve asked firmly, his pointer finger prodding against the flesh of Eddie's exposed wrist that sat atop his ribcage.

Eddie flexed his fingers beneath the bandage that had loosened in his sleep. His skin tight and tender. "Mm. Lil' sore. But - fine."

"Make sure you change those bandages. Let it breathe a bit before it gets all weepy and gross." Steve spoke sternly as Eddie bungled out a laugh.

"Yes, Doctor Harrington."

"You wish." Steve shot back with a short smirk.

Eddie did wish. But he wasn't going to let the thought of Steve in a full Doctors getup, stethoscope and all, make his already uncomfortable morning situation any more uncomfortable.

"Did I snore - at all? I'm just feeling a little congested. I get allergies in the Summer."

He gets allergies in the Summer. Of course he does. He's fucking perfect.

"Not that I noticed. If you did I slept through it." Eddie shrugged. "Did I?" He asked, a sudden whelm of self consciousness engulfing him.

"No."

"Hm." Eddie resided, nodding to himself. "You did kick me a couple times but it's fine."

"You must have deserved it." Steve snarked with no bite.

"I don't doubt it."

Eddie watched Steve's throat expand and shrink as he swallowed hard. He propped himself up on his elbows, drinking in the morning before he exhaled deeply. He glanced around the room before his gaze fully settled on Eddie again.

"It's nice actually, waking up and you still being here." Steve eventually sighed. "Got worried for a sec that maybe you wouldn't be."

Eddie turned onto his side, cheek nestled against the plush of the pillow so he could really look. "Got worried for a sec that maybe you wouldn't want me to be."

Continue reading on AO3

[unclejezzzy]

‘It’s hot as fuck out.’ ‘Well if you took off the jacket?’ ‘Not even upon pain of death.’ ‘If you want to look like a boiled lobster it’s up to you. It’s so sexy. You're so hot right now...literally’ ‘Fuck off, Steve.’

This is based on a ref I saw, and all I could think was ‘this is Eddie in summer’. The stubborn metalhead who refuses to take off his many jackets despite it being boiling as fuck. The shorts don’t do a damn thing, nor do friends who tell them not to be so daft. I’ve known many a Metalhead just refuse to not be so cool despite dying in the heat.

[unclejezzzy]

[unclejezzzy]

Maybe a little cheesy couple like, but whatever haha

Let’s give them these kind of summer day

[unclejezzzy]

how we feeling 2022 i mean 2024

[unclejezzzy]

Aren't You The Sweetest Thing On This Side of Hell | Part 5 of I Despise My Rotten Mind (And How Much It Worships You)

It's 1990. Following the fire at Club Venus, Eddie is forced to confront his past in order to make his relationship with Steve work.

Eddie's chest ached.

He had been staring at the back of Steve's head for around half an hour, watching him breathe. And his chest ached.

But he was noticing. He noticed the strands of gold in his hair that weaved throughout the layers of chestnut. Never being too loud, never drawing attention to themselves. He noticed the changing hues from the tan of his skin past the neckline of his shirt, and the never before seen moles that dappled along it.

He wondered if he dragged his fingers across them to connect them, they'd show him to some sort of pot of gold.

Eddie used these stolen moments of complete silence like a lifeline. Just watching Steve breathe and sigh, unaware of the world around him in his slumber. It felt like a reward. For what? He didn't know. But he must have done something right along the way to deserve this. Or maybe - it was a blessing for everything wrong that had happened to him.

In the same way that he was noticing, he was starting to panic. This could be his life, now. Exactly as they are now.

And there was that voice. That guy. Hanging off the side of his neck with his canines buried in the flesh, telling him he was no good for it. He was no good for any of it.

He loved his solitude. He loved basking in the aloneness of it all. But he felt as though maybe he could be made for this too, if his self would allow it. He could be a good lover. He wanted to be.

But he wasn't soft like Steve. He wasn't instinctively kind or enthusiastic like Steve. He didn't see the good in people like Steve. But maybe the two of them were the same in a way. They had both been worn away with acts of hatred and violence to become gentle like this with one another.

Steve stirred, taking a sharp intake of breath through his nostrils as Eddie didn't dare move, eyes wide and body frozen in place.

He quickly averted his gaze to the ceiling, arms folded tightly across his chest. He soon realised that it's probably kinda weird to be staring intently at another person the second they wake up.

Steve groaned softly, stretching out his arms underneath his pillow as he acclimatised himself in his consciousness. Eddie peered at him out of the corner of his eye, now affronted with the all encompassing vision before him.

"Hey." Steve smiled, voice strained as he wiped the sleep out from his eyes.

"Hi." Eddie said, biting back a smile that spread far too easily across his lips.

Was it natural for somebody to look this beautiful the second they open their eyes? It wasn't perfect by any means. It wasn't the kinda beauty you see in movies when the actors wake up and somehow their hair and makeup was pristine and they had just the right amount of rouge on their cheeks. That was unrealistic. That glowy, ethereal bullshit.

It was beautiful because it was real. His stubble had darkened ever so slightly, his eyes were puffy and red, lips chapped and eyes watery. Eddie had built dreams around something like this.

"You sleep okay?" Steve asked - scratching his head as he scooped his hair up and out of his face, still laying on his stomach.

"Mhm." Eddie hummed. "You?"

"Yeah, not bad." Steve smiled this giddy, gleaming smile that made Eddie's insides churn.

"Good." Eddie acknowledged quietly.

"Hand?" Steve asked firmly, his pointer finger prodding against the flesh of Eddie's exposed wrist that sat atop his ribcage.

Eddie flexed his fingers beneath the bandage that had loosened in his sleep. His skin tight and tender. "Mm. Lil' sore. But - fine."

"Make sure you change those bandages. Let it breathe a bit before it gets all weepy and gross." Steve spoke sternly as Eddie bungled out a laugh.

"Yes, Doctor Harrington."

"You wish." Steve shot back with a short smirk.

Eddie did wish. But he wasn't going to let the thought of Steve in a full Doctors getup, stethoscope and all, make his already uncomfortable morning situation any more uncomfortable.

"Did I snore - at all? I'm just feeling a little congested. I get allergies in the Summer."

He gets allergies in the Summer. Of course he does. He's fucking perfect.

"Not that I noticed. If you did I slept through it." Eddie shrugged. "Did I?" He asked, a sudden whelm of self consciousness engulfing him.

"No."

"Hm." Eddie resided, nodding to himself. "You did kick me a couple times but it's fine."

"You must have deserved it." Steve snarked with no bite.

"I don't doubt it."

Eddie watched Steve's throat expand and shrink as he swallowed hard. He propped himself up on his elbows, drinking in the morning before he exhaled deeply. He glanced around the room before his gaze fully settled on Eddie again.

"It's nice actually, waking up and you still being here." Steve eventually sighed. "Got worried for a sec that maybe you wouldn't be."

Eddie turned onto his side, cheek nestled against the plush of the pillow so he could really look. "Got worried for a sec that maybe you wouldn't want me to be."

Continue reading on AO3

[unclejezzzy]

New chapter alert if you don’t know get to known

I Despise My Jealous Eyes (And How Hard They Fell For You) Part 4 of I Despise My Rotten Mind (And How Much It Worships You)

It’s 1990. Eddie Munson is trying excruciatingly hard not to fall in love with Steve Harrington whilst he’s living under his roof. Despite all his best efforts, not even he is immune to Steve.

OR: Eddie’s in love with Steve but thinks Steve went on a date with someone else and it’s just chaos and angst because Eddie can’t communicate his feelings.

Eddie didn't play along. He couldn't play along. Because it wasn't a game anymore. It was real and dangerous. It made his palms itch and his legs bounce and his stomach unwillingly lurch if he so much as thought about it.

And truly, Steve tried everything to get him to cave.

If they were passing each other around the apartment - Steve would linger that extra little while longer in front of him, blocking his path with shuffling feet and a saccharine smile.

He would wander aimlessly around after a shower, toweling off his hair whilst the one around his waist would dip just below the crevices of his pelvic bones.

He would bend over in his running shorts whilst he pulled his sneakers on at an agonisingly slow pace, angling himself just right so Eddie had the full view.

Eddie just resigned himself to sitting firmly on the couch biting down against the plastic of a ball point pen whenever Steve decided to put on a show of frankly torturous proportions.

He used drastic mental measures to shake the shape of Steve's ass from his mind that seemed to have permanently embedded itself behind his eyelids.

Which mainly just included cold showers and watching the news. Worldwide tragedy always seemed to do the trick.

And Eddie was trying his hardest not to think about sex.

Or rather, he was testing the waters of not seeing sex as this all encompassing thing when it came to Steve.

Eddie realised shortly after finishing himself off under his sheets the other night - biting down against the back of his hand until his teeth formed mounds within the flesh, that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be seen by Steve.

That maybe it could be soft and tender, with quiet moments where they were both equals and are just enjoying each others company. And that maybe he could be all of those things too.

Except, he couldn't really find the words to say. And his body language wasn't all that much to go by either.

And sure, there were lots of things that Eddie wanted to say. None of them sounding remotely like him in any sense or even sane. Because romance was an entirely foreign thing to Eddie.

He'd never really needed it to get by or to get what he wanted. He'd never had to go on dates or lay his jacket down over a puddle for a fair maiden. And it's not exactly like he could have dated anybody in High School.

He didn't have that much of a death wish.

He didn't go to the club that weekend. Instead, he ushered Steve out of the door for his shifts armed with ample excuses as to why he wouldn't be going out that night.

And the night after that.

And the night after that.

Eddie had done enough imaginary overtime to be carrying the entire company on his back.

Instead; he trawled through every movie, soap opera, and ridiculous Hallmark movie that he could stomach on TV.

It all came so naturally to them. I mean, sure they were acting. Eddie knew that.

But the words just rolled right off their tongues with so much ease. Like they've known what they were going to say this whole time. Like it was sitting under their tongues just waiting for that moment. And that must just be how it is in real life too.

You just say what you feel.

And Eddie didn't have any of the words for the feelings he had. So he was reduced to saying nothing, lest he make a fucking fool of himself.

And he didn't even know if Steve wanted romance. The buying flowers, cooking dinner and slow dancing in the kitchen type of romance that made Eddie's throat constrict.

He was right back where he started.

He was right back at his desk at Hawkins High. Sat at the back, pretending to be remotely interested in whatever Mr Moran was saying in Science class whilst carving blasphemous phrases into the wood with the sharp end of a compass - staring at the back of King Steve's head wondering how he got his hair to do that.

He was back under the bleachers, smoking a pack of Camels whilst skipping gym and watching King Steve run in those tiny satin running shorts. Wondering how great life must be to just have his undivided attention for just a second. Because it must be worth something, right? To be touched by Steve Harrington.

Those girls flocked around him like they were watching him turn water into wine right in front of their eyes in Chemistry class.

And Eddie was always there, out of sight, burning pieces of paper against the low flame of a Bunsen burner. Wondering why life had to be so unfair and mentally cursing God or whoever for giving him the short straw in terms of physical allure.

Because Eddie was irrevocably and unforgivingly in love with Steve Harrington. And there was not a single thing he could do about it.

Continue reading on AO3:

[unclejezzzy]

here for a good time not a long time 💜🧡

[unclejezzzy]

that one picture doing the rounds

Something something, different first meeting, enemies to lovers, modern au, something something