#Eddie Betts

[buffaluff]

🏖️ terry eddie beach date ☀️

finished prompt fill with @911actions gotcha for gaza, for addysluvr on twitter! i hope you like and thank you for donating! 💖

check out how you can help out a great cause here and request your own 911 prompts for art, fics, and edits!

[gasping-ghostzes]

So if anyone would like to make a 9-1-1 au where Eddie and Buck embodiment whatever the fuck is going on between Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, that’d be great, thanks pookies

And if no one does, I’m willing to start digital art again and attempt making scenes of the Matt and Ben dynamic as Buddie !!! :3

[roystory4]

for the record i think tua does something like that last drawing exactly once just to throw nick off. he closes his office door and blusters that this is a public office, tua, what if someone walked in? and tua with their boobs half out is like then lock the door 🤨

nick: oh yes of course

[tofania]

no, you don’t understand, this is so hellcheer

[corrodedcoughin]

I was wondering if you saw that ask about Steve's character analysis from @steveharrington and how he's abandoned by the narrative, written very 2 dimensionally and never gets a follow up for his physical/ emotional/ mental trauma while all the other characters do. Lil fic idea where Steve and Eddie don't really know each other yet. It's maybe right before vecna, where the party somehow ends up at Steve's place for Hellfire where the older Hellfire members are still snide and bitter towards him, and something happens where Steve has to take of his shirt or something, and it's the first time everyone (maybe besides Robin) actually sees how physically scarred Steve is, and that maybe he really isn't emotionally okay either. (bc I am Sure that boy has SCARS even before the bats with everything he's been through)

I have seen it! It’s an incredible commentary that is far more coherent than I could ever hope to be, op explains their thoughts so well and really is a wonderful post (thank you op)

I’m firmly of the belief that Steve has capital s Scars. And the thought of the impact on him is heart shattering. Steve sitting at home on his own, getting changed in the dark but can feel the scarred skin under his fingers tips. His thoughts spiral. He’s been commodified his whole life, packaged up to be an ‘ideal’ and now he sees these imperfections and he’s scared. He’s terrified. What value does he hold now? Why would anyone bother with him now that he’s visually damaged and belongs at the back of the shelf. He cries. Cries so hard his head hurts and he can’t make it stop, travels down his head to his neck and shoulders as he sobs. Body wracked with it. After the first night he pushes it down, refuses to acknowledge it again, wants to pretend that things are okay when his thoughts lurk in the dark telling him he’s worthless.

So he puts on a face, and carries on. Avoids showing skin successfully for a good few months. Until there’s a Christmas party for everyone but the adults at Steve’s place and it’s fun and loud until Mike bumps into Erika who knocks into dustin who trips into Steve. Steve who was holding a mug of hot chocolate that is now covering him head to toe. It’s not even that hot but before he knows what’s happening Robin is whipping his jumper off ‘it might scald Steve! We need to check!’

He fights her but his reaction is delayed after the shock of the liquid hitting his skin. And that’s when everyone sees it, sees him. And the silence is deafening but he can’t stop them from seeing. Can’t stop them from knowing that he’s ruined and good for nothing and a disappointment so he tries to walk off, fighting the hot and angry tears threatening to spill. He won’t cry, he can’t, not again. He manages to take a step away but then Robin is hugging him, Dustin too. He drags air into his lungs. Not sure if what to do next but then he hears the party slowly start back up and he’s thankful, thinking he’ll get out of this one alive.

[bidisasterevankinard]

What if Eddie feels lonely not because Buck is mentally unavailable to him, but because it was Eddie who shut himself off from Buck? What if Eddie doesn't want to and can't open himself after Buck's death? Buck died. Eddie saw it, and Eddie isn't the same old Eddie anymore either. And the new Eddie doesn't let the new Buck in his heart and mind, so that it won't hurt so much to lose him next time?

It will explain why Eddie said he and Chris (no one else) is a good team. That he feels he is alone when he actually not. Buck is right here. But Eddie doesn't want to see it. He doesn't want to trust it.

And Buck feels Eddie shut himself, but he thinks it because Buck himself not doing enough to be "the same old Buck". How I said here, Natalia is interesting for Buck because with her, with the person who never knew old Buck he can try to understand new Buck. But the thing is, both Buck and Eddie needs to understand they both are not the same. And they are changed not only because of lightning, but because of Shooting, fire truck, tsunami, well, will, Eddie's breakdown too. All this situations changed them. Lightning were just one last thing for them to look at those changes

[ozu-teapot]

The Scapegoat | Robert Hamer | 1959

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Thank Your Lucky Stars

During World War II, most of the major studios produced all-star musicals, usually built around some kind of benefit performance, to raise money for the war effort. David Butler’s THANK YOUR LUCKY STARS (1943, TCM) was the first of two such films Warner Bros. made to support the Hollywood Canteen, which is natural as it was founded by two of their biggest stars, Bette Davis and John Garfield.  Early on, aspiring composer Joan Leslie says of a makeshift community of show-biz hopefuls, “It’s either very quaint or very corny.” I wasn’t feeling well last night, so I leaned toward the former as a cure for what ailed me. The plot is negligible. Producer Edward Everett Horton and composer S.Z. Sakall want to do a benefit with Dinah Shore, but since she works for Eddie Cantor, they can’t find a way to get her without letting him take over the show. Meanwhile, aspiring singer Dennis Morgan tries to get into the show with help from Leslie and an actor who can’t get work because he looks too much like Cantor. Yes, it’s Cantor in a double role, though the joke is that Cantor as Cantor plays a nightmarish egomaniac while his double is more like Cantor’s real image. Arthur Schwartz and Frank Loesser wrote some catchy upbeat songs — including the title number, impeccably sung by Shore, and Davis’ “They’re Either Too Young or Too Old” — and some soupy ballads. Part of the film’s charm is seeing performers not noted for musical skills sing and dance, with special honors to Garfield for doing a version of “Blues in the Night” that spoofs his screen image. Choreographer Leroy Prinze deserves a lot of credit for coming up with a dancing style to suit Errol Flynn’s image, throwing Davis into a jitterbug number, turning Olivia de Havilland (dubbed) and Ida Lupino into bobbysoxers and staging a bang-up number headed by Hattie McDaniel, who should have done more musicals. Watch closely and you’ll catch Ruth Donnelly as a surgical nurse, Henry Armetta as a barber, Frank Faylen as a sailor, Mike Mazurki as Cantor’s trainer, Mary Treen as an autograph hound and Butler and producer Mark Hellinger as themselves. As icing on the cake, you get to see Spike Jones and his City Slickers do “Otchi Chornya.”

[jazzplusplus]

1974 - Ella Fitzgerald mit Orchester - Kongresshaus - Zürich (Switzerland/Suisse)

Ella Fitzgerald (voc), Tommy Flanagan (p), Joe Pass (g), Keter Betts (b), Bobby Durham (dr), Roy Eldridge (tp), Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis (ts)

[fazcinatingblog]

My boss came out of hospital this morning and had to scoff down her breakfast because the ambulance was outside waiting to take her home.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Save it For a Rainy Day

Week #9 Prompt: Where It All Started | Word Count: 1950 | Rating: T | POV: Wayne | Characters: Wayne, Eddie, Steve | Pairings: Wayne & Eddie, Steddie | CW: Eddie's Rough Start in Life, Parental Neglect, Language, S4 Canon | Tags: Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Taking in Eddie, Eddie and Steve Meet as Kids, Haircuts and Swimming Playdates, Fix-It, Happy Ending

He's so little. 

That's the only thought Wayne has, over and over again. He's so goddamn little. With lank, limp hair, all snarled and knotted, matted. Unkempt. Dirty. Dark circles under his sullen eyes. He's small, but at the same time he looks every bit of a hardened fifty-five, at all of seven-years-old.

He didn't look like that the last time Wayne had seen him. 

And Wayne is sick that he's deteriorated to this point, in just two years time. At five, he had been a happy, wild boy. All snips, snails and puppy dog tails. 

With a loud mouth and big, round cheeks.

Al swore he was fine, that they both were, on the rare occasions when he'd call after losing Betts and Wayne had believed him. Until the social worker was on his front steps, Eddie standing there, head bowed, so utterly serious.

"Do you want me to find someone to try and comb it out, or would you like to shave it and start over?" Wayne asks, and Eddie just shrugs. Still not talking, still buried deep within his shell.

Wayne's not going to decide for him. Thinks it should be his decision, but knows it can't stay like this either, even if he doesn't have it in him to start dragging a comb through it. He knows that'll hurt, and he can't do it to Eddie. Won't. 

"When you decide, you let me know," Wayne says, hoping he'll decide sooner rather than later.

It takes three days, but Eddie finally comes up behind Wayne on the couch, and taps him on the shoulder, and makes the motion for shaving his head.

"Okay, I'll get you an appointment," Wayne tells him, because he wants to do this right, and not leave Eddie with the memory of Wayne shaving his head in the kitchen of the trailer. Maybe that's cowardly, but he'd rather push that off on a professional. 

Eddie is sitting on the little wooden board the hairdresser placed over the arms of her chair to make him taller, the hydraulic lift hadn't even been enough to get him where she needed him, and he somehow still looks little.

She gently, oh so gently, takes the clippers to Eddie's hair, shaving off strips, as she talks him through each pass. Eddie seems fine with it, there are no tears, but no smiles either.

This was the right call. A beauty shop, not a barber. Wayne's own barber does just fine on his own hair, but wouldn't have been so delicate with Eddie, and right now, Wayne's pretty sure his boy needs a soft touch.

There's another boy in the chair next to Eddie, probably the same age, but he's so much larger, and more animated. Studying every move of her hand as she barely trims anything off his thick head of hair. He doesn't need the booster board, even if Wayne suspects he's younger than Eddie.

"Nanny Louisa, can I get my haircut like that?"

She laughs, "Steve. Your mother would have both of our hides. We all have very strict orders for your haircut and you know it." 

"Aw, man, it looks so cool," Steve whines, and if Wayne isn't mistaken, that's Richard Harrington's boy. And if that's true, there's no way he's leaving here with his head shaved, that's for damn sure.

And then, as if it were a miracle, Eddie smiles. It's small, faint, barely there. But it's a goddamn smile, aimed at the other little boy that is watching as Eddie's hair falls down all around his chair and onto the floor.

The Harrington boy doesn't win, and only gets a trim, but Eddie has straightened up on the board. Not nearly as withdrawn as he was when they entered the shop.

Maybe shedding all that damaged hair feels like a new start. Wayne sure hopes so, because they're gonna need all the help they can get.

When he's all brushed off, and the plastic cape removed, the hairdressers each hand Eddie and the Harrington boy a coupon for a free ice cream cone at the shop down on the corner. It's a perk for being good in the chair, and they both earned it today.

Eddie clutches his coupon in his little hands.

"Do you want to save that, or get it now?" Wayne asks, and Eddie looks torn. That isn't the look Wayne wants on his face, so he quickly amends his question, "Or both? You can save your coupon for a rainy day, and we can still get ice cream now," Wayne offers.

"Really?" Eddie says, looking so hopeful, and it's the most beautiful word Wayne's ever heard in his whole life.

"Really," he reassures, "you save it until you want to use it. And I'll buy, today."

"Can we go get ice cream, too, Nanny Louisa?" the Harrington boy asks, and she looks reluctant, but finally nods. She couldn't let him get his head shaved, but ice cream, that's probably a much more doable request.

Wayne sits at the table with Louisa and makes the world's most uncomfortable small talk, as the boys sit at another table together, and jabber back and forth. Well, Steve is doing most of the talking, but Eddie, his sweet Eddie, has said more in the past thirty minutes than he has in the past week, and Wayne doesn't care who has gotten those words out of him, he'll be grateful. 

When the cones are gone, both boys appear at the side of the table, "Eddie's coming over tomorrow to swim," Steve announces. 

"Oh, is he?" his nanny asks, teasing Steve, and Wayne smiles. 

"He is. His uncle will bring him," Steve says with a confidence that things will always go his way in life, and Wayne hopes that rubs off on Eddie, just a little bit.

"I will?" Wayne teases, and Eddie meets his eyes, and Wayne nods. "If it's okay with Miss Louisa, I think that could be arranged."

"I don't know how to swim," Eddie admits on the way home, and Wayne laughs.

"Maybe you shouldn't have made a swimming playdate then, kid," Wayne teases, and Eddie laughs, a small quiet laugh. But it was a laugh. Wayne heard it.

"Yeah," Eddie says, and then he's quiet for a stretch, "could you teach me?"

Wayne isn't so sure that's his area of expertise, but he supposes he could try, "Yeah, I can try."

Knowing Eddie would be far too embarrassed to go to the public pool, Wayne takes Eddie out to the swimming side of Lover's Lake.

Wayne, not sure the last time he's even been in shorts, wades out in the water in his cut-off jeans, surely blinding the boaters a mile out with his white legs, as Eddie walks in beside him.

And Wayne teaches him, always staying within an arm's reach. And Eddie swims. It might not be the fancy strokes that the Harrington boy can surely swim, in his private pool with his private swimming lessons. 

But Eddie's doing it, and Wayne feels like maybe, just maybe, he's finally done something right for the kid today.

Eddie's laughing, and splashing, a quick study, and Wayne lets him paddle around for as long as he wants, until the sun threatens to sink beyond the horizon. 

Once back on shore, Wayne wraps him up in a towel, just one from the house, and gets him back into the truck.

"I'm starving," Eddie says.

"The downside to going swimming, I'm afraid," Wayne answers, but swings by Benny's Burgers on the way home, getting them both a burger, fries and a milkshake. Ice cream twice in one day is fine, Wayne's pretty sure, since Wayne's celebrating the first good day they've had since Eddie got here.

Anything the kid wants, forever, Wayne will do his best to make happen.

In the morning, Wayne brings Eddie by Melvald's General Store, to let Eddie pick out a beach towel from the rack. Eddie combs through them, so serious as he checks out the options: Star Wars and Barbie and Huckleberry Hound.

"Garfield!" Eddie finally declares, and Wayne supposes that's the one. 

"Garfield, great choice," Wayne says, taking the towel to the counter so they can pay for it. So Eddie won't be embarrassed bringing a fraying old towel from home. So he'll have something new, and fun, that he picked out all for himself. 

Wayne probably should have washed it first, but he's not that organized, and Eddie'll live. Wayne pulls off the tag and hands it over, and Eddie hugs it to his chest.

Pulling into the circle drive at the Harrington's is weird, to say the least. He's never set foot on the property, and never imagined he ever would. But, Eddie's brought a lot of changes, and if Eddie likes this other little boy, and he's kind, Wayne will be polite and make his boy happy in any way he knows how.

That evening, when he picks Eddie up, he's tired, and a little sunburnt, but rattling off information about his new friend and all their grand plans for the summer vacation.

And as time always goes, that summer flew by too fast, and before Wayne knew it, years had passed. The boys drifted apart as fast as they became friends. As kids do. By high school, Wayne hasn't heard the name Steve Harrington from Eddie's mouth in years. 

But that summer, that first summer, Wayne will forever be grateful for him. For Steve Harrington, Garfield beach towels, and more ice cream cones than he could ever begin to count. To swimming, and fishing, and playing in the backyard. 

To the little kid that made his boy smile again.

And when Steve Harrington, now grown into a man, shows up on Wayne's doorstep, Eddie's denim vest clutched in his hands, filthy and blood-stained, Wayne lets him inside without a word. 

Wayne takes one look at him, and tells him to wait there. 

He has to dig, but he finally finds Eddie's piggy bank in a cardboard box that he'd packed from the remnants of the trailer, and pulls out the bottom plug. Change falls out, clattering onto the desk. 

But inside, there's a slip of paper. Folded to fit, and dirty from spending so much time hanging out amongst the coins.

Wayne clutches it in his hand, and when he presses it into Steve's palm, trading him for the vest, Steve looks down at it, his eyes wet and red-rimmed.

Wayne starts, "I don't know if you remember-"

"Of course I remember," Steve cuts him off. 

"Well, I thought today might be that rainy day."

Steve laughs, and sniffles a little, both at the same time.

"This ice cream shop has been closed for years," Steve says, but he's finally smiling, just a little. 

Eddie's not here to do it himself, not here to coax out that smile, so Wayne's repaid the debt for Eddie himself. 

"Yeah, well…" Wayne trails off.

"But it is, you know," Steve says, "that rainy day. So, thank you."

And months later, Eddie shows up on Wayne's doorstep again. Dirty, his hair matted, and eyes downcast. Thin, worn to the bone, and as silent and stoic as he had been at seven. Wayne asks no questions. The answers don't matter right now. Instead, he pulls on him, hugging him tight, welcoming him home.

They've done this before, and they can do it again. And Wayne's grateful to have the opportunity. He was so sure he'd never see him again.

Then, after Wayne's gotten Eddie settled, and Eddie is standing in front of the bathroom mirror, combing out his own hair, Wayne excuses himself, heading for the kitchen to call Steve Harrington.

Wayne tells him to bring ice cream.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[oneforthemunny]

I’m loving these blurbs girl!! Can I request something for my favorite cowboy where sweet girl tries to convince Eddie that she doesn’t need his help with everything around the house because she’s a strong independent woman! (even though he spoils her rotten and makes sure she doesn’t have to lift a finger 😂) love you!! 🩵

this is so sweet girl of her omfg. a little bratty and moody and she takes it out on him like that, then he turns around and just watches until she has to ask lmaooo. spoiler- that's how this blurb is gonna go haha. slight dom/sub undertones but no actual smut.

"Don't lift that." Eddie's gruff tone calls from behind you. The sound made your skin crawl, shoulders tensing with annoyance. "I'll get that. Just leave it."

"Oh, no," You snapped back sarcastically, teeth grit in agitation. "I'll get it."

It was silly, childish even, you knew that. The argument was just that, silly. You'd gone out to see Eddie, trying to coax him inside to eat lunch with you, stop working and give you a little attention.

"I gotta finish this, honey."

"You could finish it later. Please? Come eat inside with me."

"You know I gotta get this done."

"But you can't do it later?"

"No, I got other things to do."

"You always have something to do."

"Yeah? I sure do. Maybe if you helped me instead of poutin' all the time, it'd get done quicker."

You knew he was teasing, from his snarky, sing-song tone and curling of his lips. But it infuriated you, rubbed you all the wrong ways.

So, determined and furious, you slipped your little rubber work boots on and some extra gloves that were a bit too big for you, opting to help Eddie with his chores.

"Quit that." Eddie clicked, tossing the hay bale in the corner with a soft grunt. "You're gonna get yourself hurt, now, just let me do that."

"No," You snapped, blocking his hands that tried to take the small hay bale away from you. "You say I never help you, so I'll do it. I got it."

"That's too heavy for you. You're gonna hurt yourself-"

"-No," You sneered, teeth grit, gloved hands slipping under the rope that held the hay in place. "I won't. I got it. I don't need your help."

Eddie paused. For a moment, he contemplated catching you by your chin, making you apologize, but he knew you'd probably like that- that it was what you wanted. Instead, he crossed his arms, standing back to watch you.

"Alright," He nodded coolly. "Go on."

You shimmied your hands under the straps just like you'd seen Eddie do before, bending your knees, before you tried to pull up, only to drop it right back on the barn floor with winded grunt. Why the fuck did hay weigh that much? It's fucking straw?

Eddie smirked in the corner, watching you try over and over and over, shuffling a few steps before dropping it right back down, winding yourself.

You looked over your shoulder sheepishly, eyes cutting to see him there, a silent pleading in your eyes. Eddie shrugged. "You said you could do it. Go on then. Move it for me."

Mean, oh, he was being so mean today. You pouted, huffing with a petulant fury. You tried again, and again, and one more time until your back felt like it might snap.

"Ok," You grumbled, dropping the bale with a final grunt of failure. "I can't do that one, but I can do something else."

"No, you told me you could move that one." Eddie shook his head. "What? 'S just supposed to stay there?"

"No," You hissed, eyes narrowing in annoyance, embarrassment. "You can just move it over there, and I'll do something else-"

"-Me?" Eddie jabbed a gloved finger to his chest, voice lifting with that arrogant teasing tone he loved to mock you with. "Now how's that fair? You told me you can move it, and now you're just gonna demand I move it? Thought you were helpin' me."

"I am." It came out more like a bratty whine than a statement. "I just can't move that one."

"So you want me to move it then, hm?" Eddie lifted a brow, lips twitching to hide his grin when you huffed and gave a curt nod. "Fine, but you better ask me. Better ask me reallll nice and I just might."

"Seriously?" You snapped, tongue clicking in annoyance.

"Yes. C'mon now, baby, you told me you were gonna move this, and now you can't? That's really settin' me back." Eddie shrugged. "Least you could do it gimme a pretty please?"

Your cheeks burned. For a second, you contemplated telling him to fuck off, stomping back to the house- but you knew the stubborn bastard would stay out there all fucking night if he had to, stand out there and leave it until you came out and asked. Might as well do it now, get it over with so maybe he'd get a little soft with you, give in and come inside and eat with you.

"Fine." You gritted with a nasally huff. "Eddie will you please-"

"-eh," Eddie lifted a finger. "What're you 'sposed to say?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, jaw setting in irritation. He was just trying to embarrass you now, get you riled up and whiny. "Will you pretty please move the hay for me?"

Eddie smirked, pushing off the wooden wall, hands sliding under the hay bales and lifting it with a soft grunt, walking it towards the stables with the others. "Now was that so hard?" He quipped, hands dusting the other off.

You rolled your eyes, turning with a huff. "Why don't you try askin' me nice like that to come inside with you, hm?" Eddie hummed.

You turned just enough to give him a pout, one you knew had him buzzing with excitement, eyes widening and grin widening, a sure sign that you were close to getting what you wanted, you always did.

"Eddie, will you pretty, pretty please come inside and have lunch with me?" It was a little more sarcastic than what he would have liked, but he relented, tossing his gloves to the side, following you into the house, opening the screen door for you, smacking your ass playfully just to hear you squeal when you slipped inside.

[poll-position]

Putting these in alphabetical instead of Top 12 order so not to skew the results.