beth--b - Tumblr blog

[beth--b]

There are ghosts in Hawkins...

[beth--b]

fooling ourselves

for @steddiemicrofic prompt 'fool' (don't you worry folks, i plan on being a fool and doing the silly prompt too)

454 words | rated t | no cw | tags: mutual pining, idiots to lovers, first kiss

🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

Steve was fooling everyone.

At least, he hoped he was.

He might be failing.

Steve practically begged for time alone with Eddie. It was embarrassing.

It's just that in the group, Eddie was loud, put on the same show he always did at school, in the hospital when he was recovering and trying to keep smiles on everyone's faces. He fooled everyone except Steve.

When they were alone, Eddie was more reserved, thoughtful, touched him more.

Steve was touch starved, okay? Every time Eddie placed his hand on his knee or ran a hand through his hair, it was like an electric shock jolted his body to attention.

He wasn't looking further into it.

Except for when he did, which was nearly every night over the last two weeks, right after Eddie had told him that he started seeing someone in Indy.

In the moment, he congratulated him, asked a few polite questions that any friend would, and found a reason to go home.

He'd avoided being alone with Eddie ever since.

Actually, he'd avoided Eddie entirely until today.

The kids were having a movie night and attendance was mandatory.

The movie was scary, something he knew he couldn't watch, but showed up for anyway. Robin made an excuse for him to sit outside, said he'd been dealing with a migraine all day and the flashing on the screen wasn't helping.

He owed her.

The Henderson home had a small back porch, but it was the perfect place for him to sit and get some fresh air, clear his mind from the thought of Eddie sitting inside. He'd been with Frankie all day.

That got shut down, but probably wouldn't be for much longer, not if they got serious.

"You okay out here? Need a drink?" Eddie's voice shocked him from his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh. I'm fine."

"Robin wanted me to come check on you. Said you wanted to talk to me?" Eddie sat down next to him on the back step.

"She did?" He apparently had not fooled Robin.

Eddie nodded.

"Oh. I'm good."

"Really? So you wouldn't care if I said I'm not seeing Frankie anymore?"

Steve turned to see a shit-eating grin on Eddie's face.

"You aren't?"

"Nah. I think I liked the idea of having a boyfriend more than I liked him."

"Oh."

"I think I was really just trying to move on from someone else."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, kinda failed at fooling myself, though."

Eddie's hand settled on Steve's thigh.

"How's that?" Steve asked.

"This guy I like, he's kinda new to this. I finally realized I'd have to be the one to make a move."

"Yeah?"

Eddie's answer was a soft kiss to his lips and a whispered, "yeah."

[beth--b]

Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.

The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.

He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.

He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.

He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.

Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.

The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.

He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.

When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).

Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.

Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.

He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.

“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”

Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”

His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.

In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.

“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”

“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.

When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”

Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”

“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”

“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.

There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.

Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”

Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.

“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.

[beth--b]

Steve can be good, if Eddie asks him to 😏

[beth--b]

we all know and love tattoo artist eddie, but hear me out- piercer eddie.

this post is sponsored by the sticker my piercer gave me yesterday that says “i got penetrated by a professional” because i just think that-

[beth--b]

Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.

And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.

They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--

Steve Harrington is his bed.

They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--

They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.

They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.

Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.

Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.

Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.

They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.

After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.

He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--

"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.

"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.

Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.

Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or

It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--

Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.

Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.

He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."

Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."

They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.

There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.

"Stop," he whispers to Steve.

Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.

"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."

"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"

"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."

"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."

"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.

"Then we'll deal with it together."

"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."

--

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.

A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.

Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.

They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.

"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.

"Hey yourself."

"It's Bi Visibility day."

"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going

"I want to come out."

He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"

Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.

"How do you want to do it?"

He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.

They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.

Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.

The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.

Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.

He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"

"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.

"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"

Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."

[beth--b]

Hello there! I’m not entirely sure if you’re still doing the whole angsty-ish prompt thing, but if you are could please consider doing, “Shit, are you bleeding!?”, with steddie and Steve being the one bleeding?

Maybe Steve never actually took care of his bat wounds and they reopened or smth??

If not then that’s totally fine! Feel free to ignore :)

THIS IS VERY LATE, I'M SORRY. I know you sent this request months ago, and believe it or not, I didn't forget about it! It haunted me. (Not really, but I did keep it in mind, and I finally managed to get a little thing out for it! I hope this is a little like what you had in mind?)

[CW: blood, mentions of injury]

-

They’ve done it.

They’ve actually fucking done it.

They pulled off the whole stupid plan, no one is dead (except for Vecna), they’re right-side up, the gate has resealed itself – it’s over.

They won.

And now, there’s just one thing left to do.

Nothing official, really, just something Eddie had promised himself he would do if he actually managed to survive (odds hadn’t seemed to be in his favor at the time, so he hadn’t expected to have to follow through, but he’d also promised himself there would be no more running away). In a way, he’d promised Steve, too, so he thinks he’d better deliver.

(At least, he hopes that’s what he’d communicated to Steve; he hopes that’s what that meaningful look and that significant nod that passed between them had meant and that he’s not about to get his ass kicked after surviving the siege of a bat tornado in a mirror version of his trailer in a fucked up alternate dimension.)

Eddie gives Dustin one last affectionate pat on the back, skirts around where Robin is babbling something enthusiastically at Nancy, who looks a little too shellshocked to do much more than listen with an almost disbelieving smile, and makes it over to where Steve is standing by the front door. He’s got his back to the group, hunched over a little as he fiddles with something beneath his unzipped jacket, but he perks up the moment he hears Eddie’s voice.

“Steve,” Eddie calls, more quietly than the last time, but with no less gravity, and just like last time, Steve turns back, his gaze falling heavily on Eddie.

Before he can talk himself out of it, and horribly aware that this isn’t really the best time or place (but then again, if not here, then where? If not now, when?), Eddie steps closer, steps right into Steve’s space, cups one hand to his ash-smudged cheek, and leans in to kiss him.

He barely even has a moment to wonder if he’s made a monumental mistake before Steve is kissing him back, tilting his head and pressing closer and moving his lips against Eddie’s like this is all he’s ever wanted to do. If the rest of the trailer has fallen conspicuously silent, Eddie doesn’t notice.

The kiss doesn’t last long (not as long as Eddie would like), but that’s alright; it feels like there will probably be more.

“Wanted to do that earlier,” Eddie murmurs as they pull apart. “But I didn’t want you to think it was some kind of last-ditch wish fulfillment because I thought I was going to die. Figured now would be better.”

“Now is good,” Steve says softly; his eyes are a little hazy, a little unfocused (and damn, had Eddie done that?), but they find Eddie’s without trouble. "Now is great."

And then it’s Steve’s hands on Eddie’s face, curled carefully at the edges of his jaw, drawing him in for another kiss. It’s only the feeling of something wet sliding across Eddie’s skin that distracts him and makes him pull back. Steve’s hands fall away, and Eddie reaches up to swipe over his jaw and looks down at his hand.

His heart thumps when he sees red.

“Am I–?” He reaches up again, rubbing his fingers across his skin again, but he feels no pain, finds no injury. “Are you–?” Eddie looks now at Steve’s hand, heart jumping again when he sees more of the same smeared across Steve’s fingers. “Shit, are you bleeding?”

Steve frowns, reaching up with his clean hand to try to swipe the mess away with his thumb. “Sorry,” he mumbles, but he sounds distant now, a little breathless in a way that Eddie can’t blame on any kiss.

Eddie reaches out and spreads his hands under Steve’s jacket, pushing it open to get a good look at him, and finds the damning dark spots spreading across the fabric of the t-shirt underneath.

“Shit,” Eddie hisses. “Shit, shit, Steve–”

“Might’ve pulled something,” Steve murmurs, “fighting Vecna.”

“You think?” Eddie is aware that he’s getting a bit shrill, but he thinks that he really can’t be blamed. “Wheeler!”

Nancy is there in an instant, and Robin is at Steve’s side just as he starts to wobble. She gets an arm around his back and he hisses, reminding them all that the bat bites on his sides aren’t the only wounds he’d sustained.

And then Nancy is barking instructions, and Robin is talking, quiet and rapid-fire at Steve as they sit him down on the couch, and Dustin is demanding to know what’s wrong (and if Eddie thought he’d been getting shrill–), and Eddie only manages to get him out of the vicinity by telling him to go call an ambulance.

“He’s gonna be fine, Henderson, but we need help,” Eddie says firmly, giving him a shove in the direction of the phone. “We’ve got him, he’ll be fine.”

And Eddie hopes to God, to Satan, to who-the-fuck-ever it is he’s supposed to be praying to at this point, that he isn’t lying to the kid.

He’s just gotten Steve – he can’t lose him now.

[beth--b]

ATTENTION

If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)

[beth--b]

Reblog for a larger sample size!

No "show results", if you're not a fanfic writer just be patient.

I saw a post about an anon saying it was embarrasing to have an ao3 account in your 30s (it's absolutely not), so I want to do a poll and see what the age range actually is.

[beth--b]

#i see what they did there

[beth--b]

Am I saying this will be your new favourite show? That it will make you smile and shiver and puzzle and delight? That it's something really special? That it will ease the pain of waiting for other shows to happen?

Yes. I am saying that.

It's SO good. And it starts in three weeks...

[beth--b]

Go ahead and cry, little boy

written for ‘Fool’ | wc: 454 | rated: T | cw: none, I don't think | Tags: T for slight swearing, pre-steddie, no upside down AU, mentions of children abandonment, recreational drug use, hurt/comfort wannabe.

@steddiemicrofic

================

Eddie watches how Steve Harrington gets saddled with a child that isn't his.

The entire town knows what happened.

Steve Harrington dated Nancy Wheeler for a year, back in high school, until she made a fool out of him with Jonathan Byers.

And yet, here they were, seven years after the fact, with the eyes of the town on Wheeler dropping her firstborn onto her ex before fucking off to wherever she lived now.

So Eddie watched.

Harrington going to the store with the kid, buying groceries and looking like a fool while trying to buy baby shit he found on the aisle.

Harrington speaking with every mother in Hawkins, looking for advice from the fools who've done it before.

Harrington looking exhausted (and still as beautiful as ever), on his dead end job at family video, where he had raised into a management position.

Harrington on his door one afternoon, foolishly asking if he still sold drugs.

"I do. But don't you have a child now? Where are they?"

Harrington sighed, dragging a hand across his face.

"I asked Karen and the kids to babysit her, I- look, I'm tired. And I just wanted some weed, if you can't sell me that I'll just leave"

Eddie watched him while he spoke. Harrington DID look exhausted, like he'll kneel over the second he lets go, the second he leaves the tension drain of his body.

And Eddie wants to see that, he suddenly realizes, he wants to see Harrington at his most relaxed, without the stress he always seems to carry around, so he makes a choice.

============

Eddie watches Harring- Steve (he'd asked Eddie to call him that) relax on his bed, all loose limbs and hazy eyes, looking the most calm and pretty Eddie has ever seen him.

"I don't think I'm ready for this. Aileen deserves better than a twenty-something fool taking care of her instead of her mom"

Eddie startles, they've been quiet this whole time, but Steve talks, undeterred, about his kid.

"But Nancy didn't want her, you know? So she called me, because she remembered some dumb shit I told her the last time we met and gave her to me."

Stevie is crying now, still beautiful, looking entirely like the fool he is while his haze is stuck on the ceiling and the words keep slipping out.

"And I wasn't ready, but I just couldn't leave her, I didn't want her to be like me"

Eddie reaches out, sweeping the tears out of Stevie's face.

"It was hard, wasn't it? It's okay sweetheart, I've got you"

Those big, beautiful sad eyes stare at him.

"You promise?"

"I promise"

Stevie is a fool, yet Eddie still finds him lovely.

[beth--b]

mombin pt 2 because we're committed now

(part 1 is here)

[beth--b]

[beth--b]

not to be controversial bc I know this is like…not in line with shifting opinions on fanfic comment culture but if there’s a glaring typo in my work I will NOT be offended by pointing it out. if ao3 fucks up the formatting…I will also not be offended by having this pointed out…

‘looking forward to the next update’ and ‘I hope you update soon!’ are different vibes than a demand, and should be read in good faith because a reader is finding their way to tell you how much they love it. I will not be mad at this.

‘I don’t usually like this ship but this fic made me feel something’ is also incredibly high praise. I’m not going to get mad at this.

even ‘I love this fic but I’m curious about why you made [x] choice’ is just another way a reader is engaging in and putting thought into your work.

I just feel like a lot of authors take any comment that’s not perfectly articulated glowing praise in the exact manner they’re hoping to receive it in bad faith.

fic engagement has been dropping across the board over the last several years, and yes it’s frustrating but it isn’t as though I can’t see how it happens. comment anxiety can be a real thing. the last thing anyone wants to do is offend an author they love, and that means sometimes people default to silence.

idk where I’m going with this I guess aside from saying unless a comment is outright attacking me I’m never going to get mad at it, and I think a lot of authors should feel the same way. ESPECIALLY TYPOS PLZ GOD POINT OUT MY TYPOS.

[beth--b]

Give me Baker!Steve who wakes up at four and gets into the bakery at five to start preparing ingredients and heating up the equipment.

Give me Bartender!Eddie who's getting off work around the same time, who always stops by the shop to bother (read: flirt with) the hunky baker man and snag some left over pastries from the previous day.

Steve always complains, but leaves the shop door unlocked anyway. Eddie's always a little ruffled from his long shift, and the way he leans into Steve's space from tiredness always makes him shiver.

After months of this, Eddie doesn't come into the shop one morning.

Steve finds the shop this early too quiet, missing Eddie's warm voice and comforting presence.

After getting the first batch into the oven, he heads next door, where he finds Eddie fast asleep on one of the stools, head resting against the bar. It's empty except for the two of them.

"Eds," Steve taps his shoulder gently. "Don't you have to close up?"

Eddie opens his eyes slowly, winces in pain at the ache in his shoulders from sleeping in such an awkward position.

"I usually don't fall asleep," Eddie says, locking eyes with Steve. He looks bashful. "It's only an hour."

"Huh?" Steve drops his hand from Eddie's shoulder, but stays close. He can smell the alcohol on him from a long night of serving drinks, can see the bags underneath his eyes and the gentle smile that tugs at his lips.

Steve thinks he's beautiful.

"Bar closes at four. I usually just finish cleaning and hang out til five." Eddie brushes a stray bit of flour from Steve's cheek.

"Why don't you ever just go home? You must be tired," Steve says slyly. He's grinning, slowly moving closer into Eddie's space.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't get to talk to you," Eddie whispers, putting a hand on Steve's waist. "Highlight of my night."

Steve reaches behind him to pick up a napkin and pen, and jots his number down. He leans forward, placing one hand on Eddie's shoulder and the other places the napkin in the front pocket of Eddie's shirt.

"I get off at twelve today," Steve says. "Go to sleep. Come talk to me when it's light out."

Steve leans forward and brushes a light kiss on Eddie's cheek, before ducking out of the bar to continue his baking, leaving Eddie breathless and more awake than he's ever felt in his life.

( ノ・・)ノ========================== ~( ˘▾˘~)

[beth--b]

Really just wanted to draw a Camp Counsellor, Steddie. But being a bit of a horror fan I turned toward the awesome 80s videos of the day for inspiration. Where both of them think a warm summer and babysitting kids is going to be a breeze. Little do they know that they become the Final boys as something stalks the camp 😢 Is it really killing the kids? Or are the boys just stuck in their own nightmare the Camp created for them? DunDunDun!!!! 😨😈