#Jeff goes to the bars

[nunesbytko]

Netflix - Dahmer- Monster - The Jeff Dahmer Story- Episode Four - “The Good Boy Box”

Present Back to Jeff's arrest.

  Police go through Jeff's childhood home, the garden, and find his first victims bones scattered there. He scattered them because he wanted Steven to still be around.

  Does anyone believe that Jeff didn't kill again for nine years??? I don't!!!

Trying to be a good boy my ass!

  Hijacking the photo lol! They blacked him out!

  Lionel planned to bring Sherri back to face off with Joyce. Yeah. That sounds healthy for Jeff to watch. Lionel can be such a petty asshole. Lionel you dumped Jeff to hook up with your flozzie. You haven't called or seen your son in months and have the audacity to walk in and have a go at Jeff!

  Lionel starts bitching about Joyce being a crappy mother, but Lionel you've done jack shit for Jeff as well. Pot kettle black. Lionel just refuses to take any responsibility! Your son has been falling  apart while you've been banging your "hot babe"

  I'm cry laughing everytime Jeff looks at Sherri over this coffee table.

  Lionel is pissed that Jeff didn't go to college, but Lionel if you had fucking been there like a father would, you should have been on his ass and helping him with applications. It's no use coming in now and trying to save his education. It's too late.

  Community college sounds like a great idea Sherri!

  I honestly thought Jeff was going to say some kind of racial slur about community college.

  Man he's going to tell Lionel about Steven???

Lionel had to stop this. This is a coffee shop. But Lionel should have taken him home, or fishing alone, and just let Jeff speak.

  His dad paid for Ohio college. He doesn't show up for lessons and gets expelled. His Dad is pissed Jeff's headed to the army.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So he comes back in his little Army suit, and Lionel and Sharri are in shock. It's a cute scene and I thought. Maybe Jeff's changed!!!

He hasn't. He using a drug called Halcion to drug his army colleagues, his friends! He's off to Germany next week.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------   Months later his enraged Dad drives him to his Grandmothers. He's been discharged from the army. I feel like his dad is sending him to his grandmothers as a punishment.

  Where are the blue contact lenses???

Lovely scene with him and his grandmother and the box. He also kind of tries to tell her that something is off. She responds with church. She's sweet.

  Butcher shop with Wally. Jeff has a job! 

  We're back to the mannequin scene! Oh shit Grandma!

  Oh god lovely Grandma is challenging him about the mannequin! Shit this is sooooo embarrassing for him! She's talking about getting him help and  church and Jeff losing it. This is the first time we've seen him angry like this. He shouts in her face. It's a horrible scene. She just wants to help him.

  I'm worried that he'll hurt Grandma!

  LOL she threw his boyfriend away and he's pissed and smashing glasses! Jeff needs to move the hell out! He can't speak to his grandma like that!!!!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   God Jeff and the beer tent at the fair. He was "Indecent" at the fair. With kids around! This guy is so fucked up. He's arrested. He gets fired from the butchers. But gets a job at a clinic. He's going to get turned on the by the blood, you just know it!

  He's drinking blood???? 

WTF super dangerous!!!!!!

------------------------------------------------------------------ Jeff at the gay bars lol!!!!

OHHHHH!!! The bathouses!!!!

  Hot dudes just walking around Naked!!!!

Jeff pretending to be all new to sex.

  Did they do more or just cuddles?

  Nooow Jeffie is a regular at the bars and the bathouse.

  He gets kicked out of the bathhouse when they realise he's drugging guys. Shit. one guy nearly died!!!!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I think Grandma is going to kick him out.

  Don't show him your moves  Jeff, you' ll scare the cutie away!

  He's drugged himself! Jeff you dumbass!!

The hotel murder, I forgot about this one!

  Man of the house!!! Jeff you're a bum that lives with Granny, like what Man????

? The hotel guy {Steven's } Head is now in his father's old chemistry box. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Notes

Notice that in the beginning a lot of his victims were white, what changed? 

Shoutout to Ricky! The guy that kicked Jeff out the bathhouse. I think he would have killed him if no-one was there! 

   Loved the scenes between Lionel Sherri and Jeff!

  These episode feel like mini movies!

  I really hoping that he'd changed in the army. He was given soooooooooo many chances to make things right.

  Maybe if Lionel had listened, maybe things could have been different!

[corrodedcoughin]

How many times has corroded coffin tried to incorporate ‘pyrotechnics’ into their performance (eddie lighting the spray from an aerosol can on fire and screaming because he scared himself. Then the rest of the band screaming because he turned to face them while still spraying the can and almost melting an amp, Jeff’s eye brows and a drum) before they had to be stopped?

[scoops-stevie-archive]

@steddieas-shegoes :)

the media and fans have a field day with it. steve and eddie have been public for years yet there's pictures all over twitter of steve cozied up in a booth in the corner of whatever bar, tucked tight into gareth's side under his arm with eddie nowhere in sight. a different fan posts a tiktok of them from a different angle and a little closer and you can clearly see that steve is drunk. his eyes shine unfocused in the camera flash and his cheeks are flushed. in the video he laughs loudly at something and just before one of cc's security guards blocks the view, steve leans in and buries his face in gareth's neck and gareth's fingers go to his hair.

the cheating allegations come out after that. article after article with the photo on the front page but it's nothing but radio silence from the band's twitter. no statement from eddie or gareth. fans think they're hashing it out behind the scenes and are preparing themselves for gareth's exit statement from the band or for the news to hit of steve and eddie breaking up.

none of that happens.

gareth stays in the band, steve and eddie go on like normal. they're papped in a starbucks in new york looking just as much in love as they were before the scandal. eddie and gareth don't behave any different in the videos they post of each other or on stage.

it kind of dies down after that- until a video goes up on the band's youtube one afternoon, shot that morning.

they try to keep themselves as authentic as they can, show the fans that not everything is sunshine and rainbows in the industry, and that they're real people who do real people things, too.

in the video, someone knocks on a hotel door and jeff answers. he says something that's purposefully scripted very badly and it gets a laugh out of the guys. the video shows them walking into jeff's room and it's revealed that it's a room tour. they pan around the corner into the main room and there's a lump in the bed.

there's no awkward silence between them, just a laugh from freak and a "jeeeff, it's almost ten a.m." and then eddie's pulling back the covers to reveal a slumbering steve.

people watching expect the footage to cut off abruptly or for eddie to angrily demand the situation, but again, it doesn't happen. he just laughs and squats down on the side of the bed and runs his hand through steve's hair until he wakes up.

"hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with fondness as he smiles a syrupy smile that hundreds of fans have dreampt of being on the receiving end of. "have a good sleep?"

they see steve reach out and pull eddie in by the head for a kiss. the video goes back to its scheduled programing after that, eddie following steve into the bathroom to get ready.

they don't do many interviews in the span of all this happening so fans and the media are left wondering what in the world is going on between the five of them. the boys act the same on stage every night without any signs of jealousy between them.

and then steve is photographed wearing a hoodie that fans can clearly see belongs to freak just from the size alone. neither steve or freak are small guys, but the garment is like a dress on steve. it almost goes down to his knees and the arms hang at least three inches passed his hands. it threatens to hang off of one shoulder but goddamn does steve look cozy and comfortable, burrowing into the hood pulled over his head like a little hamster.

the hoodie isn't what gets their attention, though.

it's the fact that the picture is from the band's soundcheck, to the band's twitter, and that steve is sitting on gareth's lap at his drum kit, while wearing the hoodie, and while eddie is leaning down and kissing him. gareth doesn't look put off by it. he's looking somewhere off camera and laughing but his hand is still on steve's waist and steve's is tangled in eddie's wild hair.

it answers all and none of everyone's questions.

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: Harry is given the wrong number when he goes out to a bar but oddly enough he’s not that upset about it because the number he’s given belongs to you. He quickly learns you’re southern and from then on he finds himself coming up with excuses to talk to you because you not only have no clue he’s Harry Styles you also just bring him a sense of comfort that he can’t seem to find with anyone else. Will you ever learn who he really is? And if you do will it change anything? Let’s find out shall we?✨

Pairing: Harry Styles x southern!reader

CW: Language

Tag List: Open

A/N: this series started off from a request I got for Harry to text someone southern and the idea just took off in my brain from there so I hope y’all enjoy💖

Conversations: here

Extras: here

*this is a texting story but you’ll find everything in the correct order down below*

Part 1: Happens All The Time

Part 2: Wonky

Part 3: Smooth as Sandpaper

Part 4: Fiddlesticks

Part 5: Church it Up

Part 6: After A While

Part 7: King George

Part 8: How in Tarnation

Part 9: Don’t be Ugly

Part 10: As All Get Out bonus convo between Harry and Niall here

Part 11: Odd Little Duck

Part 12: Beat it With a Stick bookstore with Harry here

Part 13: Till the Cows Come Home bonus convo between Harry and Niall here

Part 14: Oh My Days

Part 15: Full As a Tick Harry picking you up here

Part 16: Like A Fiddle

Part 17: Tall Order To Fill

Part 18: Borrowing Trouble how your date ended with Harry here

Part 19: A Little About A Lot you meet Jeff here

Part 20.1: You Thought

Part 20.2: Saddle Up

Part 21: Rub Some Dirt On It Harry’s convo with Jeff here

Part 22: So I Can Kiss You Anytime I Want

Part 23: You Better Not

Part 24: A Sack of Potatoes convo with Kathy here

Part 25: Mouse in Your Pocket

Part 26: Mind Your Manners convo with Jeff here

Part 27: Fired Up

Part 28: Some Kinda Alright

[genericpuff]

holy crap okay so

I'm two episodes into Kaos

normally I keep my expectations pretty minimal because, let's be real, the Internet - and especially Tumblr - has a tendency to severely overhype new series to be way better than they actually are and it often leaves me sitting there like "that's it? that's what people were freaking out over for weeks?? that was just a bunch of cheap ships and tropes that i've seen 123785902380 times before" LMAO

BUT thankfully compared to other series like Hazbin Hotel and The Amazing Digital Circus, I haven't been worn out on excessive fandom exposure prior to watching Kaos, so I didn't really know what to expect going in besides what folks have told me so far - it's a modern-day Greek epic, and it stars Jeff Goldblum as Zeus (which is, unsurprisingly, peak casting).

That said, I'm very pleased to say that so far, the show is absolutely blowing me away. The set designs, characterizations, weaving of all the players into a central narrative led by a very coy narrator, all of it feels both refreshing and respectful to the source material at the same time.

so uh yeah that LO animated TV show... we have reason to believe now that it's gotten picked up by Amazon Prime, at least according to the showrunner's LinkedIn and posting history from February of this year that seems to imply LO may have been picked up by Amazon-

(but still, nothing's really been confirmed because they're being so tight-lipped about this you'd almost think it's because there isn't a show happening at all cough)

But even then, that means at best we still won't see anything of the LO TV show adaption for another 2-3 years, depending on how production goes.

Why am I talking about LO right now? Well it should be obvious - Kaos double-whammied LO by beating it to the punch at its own game.

I mean, just look at the creative choices alone in the design of the Underworld and its rulers, our beloved Hades and Persephone.

And yes, the entire Underworld is color-graded like this, something so simple and yet effective in communicating the nature of the Underworld and what it stands for - a place where the past lives on through the dead, paused in time, devoid of the vibrant color grading found in Olympus - or "Olympia" as its been named in this retelling - which is, by the way, a visual treat to take in every time it's featured.

(and yes, that is S-tier-companion Billie Piper on the left, but I will not tell you who she's playing, you actually really should go into this show as blind as possible for the thrill of figuring out these characters as they're introduced <3)

That's not even getting into the narrative structure of the plot itself or the phenomenal casting and acting, but again, I don't want to spoil too much as the show is quite new, and I want to actually finish watching the show myself before I get more into the details of its story and how it delivers it (I'm very much hoping I will still be singing this show's praises at the end of its 8 episodes, please for the love of god don't jump the shark, I don't think my heart can take that kind of pain again.)

All that's to say though, Kaos is, so far, exactly what us disappointed fans of LO deserve after all these years, and frankly, I feel like whatever is coming for the LO animated TV show is really gonna have to step up to the plate to both live up to the bar that Kaos has set as well as stand on its own without being affiliated as a cheap Amazon knockoff living in its shadow. Sounds a little familiar and a bit ironic, doesn't it?

[myflagmeansace]

Hi all! It's taking a lot longer to caption Samba's BTS improv video, but here's the video without captions and a separate transcript with dialogue tags for now! 😘

Scene 1

Ed is determined to banter about Jeff's Inn by the Sea after gravy basket Hornigold ruined it.

Ed (proudly announcing what he does at the inn): My specialty is seafood. Um and I cook the sea...food.

Stede (completely and earnestly smitten): You cook it perfectly, by the way.

Ed (sweetly accepting his compliment): Thank you! 😊

Stede (so appreciative of his love's fictional cooking skills): I love that.

Ed (remembering how well Stede pours drinks *possibly inspired by the Ed draped across a bar fanart Taika called out in the IMDB The Outfronts interview*): Um and you are the cocktail man.

Stede (so excited about his role): I am the cocktail man!

Ed: Yeah!

Stede (really playing into his role): I make a drink or two.

Ed (a little dazed at imagining Stede as a cocktail man pouring him several drinks): Yep oh yeah! Um and more than two sometimes.

Stede (feeling a little cheeky): Sometimes we get on it, don't we? Yeah!

Ed (picking up on what Stede is putting down but also fuck off Hornigold, Ed is totally a people person at this fictional inn!): Yeah, yeah! You know, we get on it. You work the back of house, I work the front of house.

Stede: Yes!

Ed: Yep.

Stede (recognizing the importance of taking turns, in more than one way 😉): Sometimes I work the front of house.

Ed (agreeing to being a versatile partner): Yeah and then I-you give me a turn working the back.

Stede: Yes.

Ed: Yeah.

Stede (shameless at this point): You like that, don't you?

Ed (a little flustered but keeping his cool): Aw, I mean, I-you know, it's just nice for a change now and then, you know?

Stede (liking the thought of keeping Ed satisfied): Something different. Yeah!

Ed (admitting to himself why he likes working the back): Yeah! It's just nice to be in control.

*Stede proudly gazing at Ed*

Scene 2

Taika: *breaks, closing his eyes and smiling*

Rhys: *wheezing/laughing*

Scene 3

Stede (leaning into his role of cocktail man, expert of drinks): Well imagine us as...a mixed drink.

Ed (absolutely smitten, ready to listen and pressing his finger against his lips to calm the urge to press his lips all over the dork in front of him): I am imagining it!

Stede (really struggling to capture the expertise of a cocktail man because he's more of a gardening guy so he can't think of a drink good enough to compare Ed to so he goes with whatever sounds cool and tough): You're the hard...sort of...

Ed (smile falls and starts feeling sad because Stede is calling him hard when he's really just a soft kitty princess but he'll go along with it because he gets it 😿 he copies his hand gestures to appear agreeable): I'm the hard one.

Stede (sweating bullets):...rustic...

Ed (definitely not liking the word rustic and tucking in his paws, I mean hands): Yeah.

Stede (knowing he’s completely boned it as a cocktail man): Ummm...

Ed (trying to save the moment and compares himself to a rare whiskey): The bitter one like a whiskey.

Stede (agreeing out of desperate relief): Bitter whiskey at the bottom. Yes!

Ed (remembering he doesn't actually like whiskey but he does like rum): Yeeah. Like yes, yeah. I'm like the whiskey or the rum.

Stede (changing the focus to distract Ed from his clumsy cocktail man moment): And I'm the fluffy kind of ✨️epervescent✨️…

(new word alert lol I think he meant effervescent)

Ed (entertained by the word choice): Ohhhh!

Stede (playing it up with jazz hands):...tang!

Ed (doesn't dare correct his excited boyfriend): Epervescent!

Stede: Yes!

Ed (gestures at his bubbly boyfriend): Yeah! You're the bubbly one!

Stede (wiggling in excitement): That just jumps in on top!

Ed: The Tang!

Stede: Yeah!

Ed (trying out a pickup line): Yeah you're the tang to my tong.

Stede (has no idea what a tong is but he loves rhyming): Ahhh! You're the zangy, I'm the tangy!

Ed (absolutely enamored and giggling with joy at Stede's flirting): Aw The Zangy and the Tangy! We should call the joint that! The Seaside and…

Stede (high pitched mating call): Tangy and Zangy!

Ed (falls apart laughing, holding on to Stede): ...Tangy Zang-!

Scene 4

Ed (giving Stede a boyfriend test): We're very different you see. We're cut from different cloths us two. Um but somehow when you stitch that cloth together...

Stede (appreciating Ed's deep thoughts): Mmm.

Ed: What does it make?

Stede (passing the test with flying colors): Well, a beautiful seam! ❤️

Ed: 💘😳🥰🫠

Scene 5

Ed (taking the opportunity to analyze and get near the Stiddies): We're leather and silk.

Stede (oblivious, trying to romantically serenade Ed): Leather and silk!

Ed: It's uh...*begins nervously singing too* and all things milk!

Stede (heartfelt but slightly confused crooning): ...together!

Ed (trying his best to rhyme): ...and from different ilks.

Ed (starts over, pulling it together as he goes): Leather and silk, from different ilks...

Stede (too stubborn to be apart from Ed even in song):...together we....

*Stede waits, anticipating a masterpiece finish*

Ed (hyperfocusing on dairy and possibly Stiddies at this point): ...from the udder...of life...we make milk!

*Stede remains utterly still as his brain catches up with Ed's*

*Ed finishes, baffled by his own song but he stands by those words because life really is like a cow's udder, and leather and silk are of different ilks, and in a strange and cosmic way, they do indeed make milk 🙂‍↕️🫶🏽*

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 10: Love is missing each other @lihhelsing

Steve heard the voicemail click for the third time today. Eddie was away in Sam Francisco recording a proper demo for a company that had seen him in an Indy bar a few months ago. It was his big break, everything Eddie had dreamt of, Steve was of course excited for him too.

He had promised to call every day for the two weeks they'd be gone. Every night at 7pm the phone would ring and Steve would excitedly pick up the phone and listen to whatever crazy story Eddie had for him that day.

He'd heard all about Eddie's first time flying and how Jeff almost puked on the plane. He'd laughed while listening to how they got lost on their second day and ended up in Chinatown. He smiled hearing how happy Eddie's voice sounded when he talked about the studio.

It made Steve sad when he hung up the phone, knowing he'd have to wait another day to hear his boyfriend's voice. Eddie was fulfilling his dreams, he might even want to move there soon if this goes well.

They'd talked a bit about it before he left but it was all hypotheticals, but the more phone calls ended with Eddie telling Steve how awesome a time he was having there the more it seemed like leaving Hawkins would soon be a reality for Eddie.

Steve was conflicted, the kids were graduating the following year, and Robin and Nancy already lived in Chicago, there were dwindling reasons to stay in Hawkins. But something kept holding Steve back. He didn't know if it was old Upside Down worries even though it had been a couple years since anything had happened, or if it was something he didn't want to think about.

Maybe he felt if he left with Eddie he'd be holding him back still, did Steve Harrington make sense in California, did they make sense in California?

It was 8pm and the phone hadn't rung. He'd called the number Eddie had given him for emergencies but for the third time he'd been met with just voicemail box.

Was Eddie hurt? Had he forgotten about Steve? He was supposed to be back in a couple days. Was Steve easy enough to forget after not even two weeks?

He rang one more time.

Please leave your message after the beep.

Steve sighed, "Hey, Eds. Um, it's about 8 now, you haven't called yet so I just want to make sure you're ok. I um, I really miss you, please call me back. Did I do something? Or um, are you um..."

Steve couldn't get the words out, too worried of what the answer would be.

"Call me when you can please, I'm sorry if this is clingy though, you don't have to call me every day it's fine, I get it, my voice probably has gotten pretty tiring."

"No voice I'd rather hear, baby."

Wait, had Eddie picked up and Steve missed the click of the line, Steve heard the beep of the end of the voicemail. That could only mean... Steve turned around to see Eddie smiling at him.

"Hi, baby."

All of Steve's worries melted as he took no time to step forward and hold Eddie in his arms.

"What are you doing here?"

"We finished early and I couldn't stand another few days without you, missed you so much baby."

"We should move."

"What?"

"Wherever your music is going, I wanna follow, Eds."

"Really?"

"Don't want to spend any more time missing you."

"I'll take you everywhere with me, sweetheart, don't want to miss you anymore either."

By the next spring, Steve and Eddie were across the country, and phone calls were for checking in with their family, the rest of their time was for them.

[strawberryspence]

OH MY GOOOOOOOOD !!! I LOVE TURMOIL !!!

Eddie calling Steve sweetheart is canon now by the way every fanfic writer uses it. They’re not even dating yet and it’s always, “Steve, sweetheart, please hand me the towel.” or “Sweetheart, did you eat?” or “You’re wrong, sweetheart, it’s this way.”

He only ever calls Steve, Stevie or sweetheart and at first, Steve thinks it’s a joke. Like big boy, you know? Steve’e never had anyone call him pet names, it’s always him calling girls baby or babe. But then it’s three months later, and his hands get clammy and his stomach gets butterflies when Eddie calls him Sweetheart, his voice dipping lower, giving his signature cheeky smile, his dimples dipping with the slope of his smile, brown eyes shining with a glint. Steve realizes he’s in love with Eddie fucking Munson and wants to be his sweetheart.

The longer it goes on, Steve feels more special. The implications of the pet name making his heart grow twice its size. He’s never been anyone’s sweetheart. Yeah, they’re not dating and maybe Eddie doesn’t like him the same way he likes him but Steve is sweetheart to Eddie, no one else and that’s good enough for Steve. Eddie does it so often that by now no one questions it (not even the kids, who was visibly confused the first time Eddie asks them, “Where’s sweetheart?” and even more confused to find out that he was looking for Steve.) and it’s just normal that Eddie calls Steve sweetheart.

Until the whole adult (Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, Argyle) squad goes to The Hide Out to watch Corroded Coffin perform. It’s packed with people, somehow Eddie’s murder allegations brings more people. It’s after the performance and they’re all drinking with Jeff, Gareth and Paul. They’re taking shots, playing drinking games, doing normal teenage stuff in bars.

Eddie’s openly gay with them now, he’s the first to do so in the group to ease Robin in (which makes Steve fall in love with him more). So yeah, it’s normal that after a performance a few boys (even girls) approach Eddie. Steve gets jealous, yes. But he doesn’t begrudge them for it, 1. They’re not dating and 2. Have you fucking seen Eddie? With all that liner, mesh crop top showing lines of scars and tight ass jeans that leaves nothing to the imagination. Don’t even get Steve started with the way his hair is tied up.

But then, one guy is openly flirting with Eddie and Eddie’s smiling and teasing back, and Steve’s heart is suddenly lodged at his throat. Eddie invites the guy to play with them, introducing him as James, and Steve ignores the side glances his friends give him as he excuses himself to get more shots.

They’re all playing having fun, everything was going fine until James takes a shot and it goes through the wrong pipe, he’s coughing loudly and harshly. Steve, because he’s Steve, gets a bottle of water for James, passing it to Eddie, who opens it for James. Everyone’s watching them.

When it finally settles down, “Oh god, that was painful.” James was laughing and Eddie’s laughing with him as he says, “Looks like it, sweetheart.”

It’s not even Steve who reacts first. Not Robin, Not Nancy. It’s Jonathan, he’s halfway through a drink and the glass just slips out his hands, hitting the ground and breaking into pieces as he gasps. Jonathan’s not even looking at the broken glass, just at Eddie. Eddie’s visibly confused, asking him if he’s okay.

When it fully loads to the whole group, Robin’s almost immediately up on her feet, fists first, she’s drunk, but not drunk enough to not think straight, but drunk enough to have the strength of an elephant. It takes Nancy and Argyle to hold her back. She’s screaming incoherent strings of curses. Eddie’s still confused, James looks downright scared.

Steve’s just sitting there. Open mouth, looking at the commotion as it sinks in. Maybe it was him, maybe it was all in his head, maybe he made it all up and maybe he wasn’t that special. Maybe sweetheart was just a name Eddie calls anyone, any guy and Steve was just another guy. Because why would anyone reserve the name sweetheart for Steve fucking Harrington? He's not that special.

He stands up, making Robin pause her rant as Steve holds out his hand to her, “You’re drunk. Let’s go home.” Robin stares at him, their own version of silent conversation before Steve adds, his voice wavering, “Please.” Robin nods, takes his hand, pulling him out of the place without questions.

Eddie’s left there, gobsmacked confused as to what just happened. James excuses himself, maybe because Jonathan’s glaring at the two of them like they’re Vecna.

“What happened?”

Jonathan’s glare intensifies. Nancy’s quietly judging him. Gareth's looking at him like he's the biggest idiot in town. Jeff and Paul are avoiding eye contact.

Argyle's the one who speaks first, "Brochacho, you just called James, sweetheart.”

“So?” Eddie asks. He’s actually confused to what the hell just happened.

“My dude, you only call our beautiful Steve, sweetheart. Sweetheart is Steve. Steve is Sweetheart. Only him. We’re just surprised you called another dude sweetheart. That’s why Buckley’s ready to fight you for Steve’s honor.”

Only then does Eddie realize what he’s done.

Fuck, he’s so screwed.

PART 2

[rogueddie]

Eddie, who likes to go to resturaunts on his own to try them out and sort of vet them before bringing friends, going to a new place. Steve, who mans the bar, assuming that he's been stood up and goes over to try and cheer him up. Eddie is too happy that a pretty guy is talking to him to ask why and leaves him startled when Steve gets icy with Jeff when Eddie brings him to check the place out the next week.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 50

part 1 | part 49 | ao3

cw: angst, canon-typical violence, period-typical homophobia

Steve gets the full story from Jeff later that night.

After Eddie and Wayne come out of the bathroom — after Eddie goes straight to his room and shuts the door without so much as a glance in Steve's direction, after Wayne clears his throat and suggests they all clear out and give the kid a night to cool off — Steve drags himself back to his trailer and paces for a while. Tries not to feel horribly rejected, which is...

It's fucking ridiculous, is what it is.

Stupid to be focusing on his own dumb feelings right now.

Eddie's the one with a pulverized face.

So anyway, Jeff. Steve dials his number, and it feels weird that he even has his number at all — weirder still that, of all the guys in Corroded Coffin, he and Jeff have the most in common. Makes sense, though; Jeff's the only one who likes professional sports even a little.

"Hello?" Jeff's nasal voice comes over the line.

He sounds like his usual self — doesn't sound like he got pummeled, at least. Steve paces a tighter circle, says, "Hey, man, it's Steve."

Jeff makes a clipped noise. "You saw Eddie then?"

Furious heat crawls up the back of Steve’s neck, the image swimming red in his tunneled vision: the welt under Eddie's eye, the blood blooming on his chin. Someone did that to him.

Someone who needs to fucking pay for it.

“Yeah,” he seethes, trying to keep his voice down. “What the hell happened?"

Jeff sighs; launches into the vague version of events that he's allowed to tell — the version with no names and no identifying details, because Eddie made them swear not to tell Steve who was responsible.

"Sorry, man," he says when Steve presses for the third time; sounds like he means it, too. "Eddie seems to think you'd just land yourself in big boy jail if you knew, so…”

Steve clenches his jaw, his fists. Imagines fresh blood against his knuckles, how good it would feel to slam them into someone’s face; has a flashback of Billy Hargrove pinning him to a kitchen floor, laughing maniacally while his world went dull and dim.

…Goddammit. “He’s not wrong.”

So Steve listens, silent and helpless while Jeff tells him as much as he can about the mounting Satanic panic: how the townspeople are still grieving everyone who died last summer, how that grief is turning to paranoia, conspiracies about the destruction of the hospital and the fire at the mall, and now there are all these news articles coming out, whipping churchgoers into a frenzy over the queers and the occult, and the end result of all of it is that Eddie gets his ass beat in the alley behind a shitty dive bar.

All for having the nerve to wear a Black Sabbath shirt in public.

“Eddie said they stole something?” Steve prompts after a short silence.

"His amp,” Jeff says, and Steve sags in relief. At least it wasn’t the Warlock. He can replace an amp no problem. “They stole our fucking tip jar, too. Not there was much in it, man, but still.”

Fuckers, Steve thinks.

"Fuckers," Jeff spits, then sighs, "so much for being Christ-like, or whatever."

Steve chews his lip. Fiddles with his nails, hoping to work out a way to get Jeff to give him names. He only knows one name that comes to mind, but he can’t just go pummeling people on a hunch.

“If you ask me again,” Jeff says, “I’m hanging up.”

Well, damn. He slouches back against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. "The rest of you are alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good. We were loading the van when it happened.” Another short, derisive sound. “Of course they waited to corner him when he was alone."

"So they planned this," Steve says, and the name in his head is practically flashing on a marquee. Jason Carver and his lackeys at that party back in November. The back of Jason’s head at the midnight mass they snuck into. Is this freak bothering you?

Steve’s voice is a lethal whisper. "Do you think they'll do it again?"

"Steve—"

“Do,” he repeats, “you think” —Hopper’s ghost in his mouth, authoritative and slow— “they'll do it again?"

Jeff lets out a long breath, his words wobbly with nerves. "I don't know, dude. Probably not? One of them looked pretty freaked out by how messed up Eddie's eye was."

Steve tastes blood in his mouth.

Fucking better have.

Another silence falls, rustling and static sounds, and Jeff hesitates. "Listen, uh..."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing, just... Well. Eddie can get a little, um. A little weird, about people seeing him be, like, vulnerable and shit. So. Just a heads up."

Weird like hiding from his boyfriend? the petty part of Steve’s brain supplies. Weird like shutting his door without saying goodbye?

He tamps down hard on the hurt that bubbles up at the reminder, because—

Because Eddie’s seen him at his most pathetic too many times to count. Has seen him blubbering and soft and desperate for comfort; has offered it so eagerly without judgment or thought. And if Steve can’t do the same now, if Eddie thinks there’s shame to be found in it, then that means— that means…

He swallows the glass shard in his throat. “Thanks for the warning, man. For real.”

—

part 51

holy shit i can’t believe i wrote 50 parts of this

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

[mouwrites]

Creepypasta/MH - Doing Halloween Stuff With Them :)

(Characters: Tim/Masky, Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Nina the Killer, Jane the Killer, Ticci Toby)

Tim/Masky

Hear me out... corn maze

I believe that Tim enjoys a good puzzle every now and again

He loves trying to figure things out (specifically when there's nothing at risk)

Getting to show off his navigational skills is also a major plus

He just likes to impress you, even if it comes off as annoying sometimes

"See? What'd I tell you? The exit's right there."

Though he does like the satisfaction of completing the maze, what he really treasures is that time you spend together figuring it out

Once you finally find the exit, you'll celebrate with hot cocoa :D

Eyeless Jack

This man LOVES carving pumpkins

He goes all out; definitely one of those people who makes the crazy intricate designs that look like they take hours

He'll love it if you help him!

If you have a steady hand, he'll let you do the details

If you don't, he'll task you with gutting the pumpkin/handing him tools

You guys collaborate on multiple pumpkins throughout the month, setting them in random locations for everyone to see

If there's a design you want to do, just show it to him, there's no question he'll be down

If it's too simplistic, he'll try to add more details

"Ooh, Jack, look at this one. Can we try to re-create it?"

"Of course! Though I do have some ideas on how it can be improved..."

Jeff the Killer

Another pumpkin carving enjoyer

But for a different reason... a very different reason

He loves the goriness of gutting the pumpkins

He couldn't care less about making actual designs, he just wants to get messy stabbing the pumpkin and gouging out its insides

That being said, he'll 100% gut your pumpkin if you ask him (he'll probably end up doing it even if you don't ask)

It's honestly a little disturbing watching him work

He just gets this look in his eye...

"You, uh... you doing okay there, Jeff?"

"Hm? Yup! Never better!! Say, can you grab the big knife from the kitchen for me?"

Nina the Killer

You best bet she's the costume queen

Spends the whole year planning matching horror-themed costumes

She'll settle for no less than creativity and perfection

High-quality props and articles only!! She'll even make them herself if she has to!

You can expect to spend at least an hour in front of the mirror while she does your makeup/adjusts your clothes

She's an SFX makeup legend, loves incorporating as much gore into your costume as possible

Don't ask why it's so realistic (it's not like she knows how the wound would look if it was real or anything)

"Wow, Nina... It's almost like I can feel it! It's so real!"

"No, no. If you were feeling it, you would be screaming pretty loud right now."

You can also expect to attend multiple parties where you show off your costumes

You guys dominate costume competitions

Jane the Killer

Horror movies!!

Specifically, making fun of them

You both pick apart the plot, the characters, the dialogue, the special effects, everything

No horror film is safe from your scrutiny

If you're the type to get scared during horror movies, her snide comments will help distract you

"Ooh, I can't look!"

"Oh, come on. Look—I bet they used corn syrup for that fake blood. It's way too thick."

When the movie ends, you're both feeling more amused than scared

She doesn't like to see horror films in theaters because she doesn't get to make commentary, plus she doesn't want to "waste" money on a "stupid tryhard-horror flick"

She'd much rather dig up some old indie DVD/VCR and have a home movie night with you

Ticci Toby

Halloween sweets are his bread and butter

Candy apples, fun-sized candy bars, candy corn, pumpkin bread...

He would perish if you made anything homemade for him

Spends the whole month gorging on sweets almost as fast as he can get his hands on them

He will not share with anyone but you

And even you only get a small portion of his goodies

Robs at least one child on Halloween night, mostly for the candy but also because he likes scaring little kids

"Where did you get all that candy?"

"Got it from a little birdy. By that I mean a kid in Falcon cosplay."

"Toby! ... save me the (favorite candy)."

Thank you for reading! Have a good day/night my spooky pookies <33

(divider by saradika)

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: friday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, smutty smut-smut, this is an 18+ chapter so minors dni, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 6.7k

summary: buckle up people, because this is a long one! tonight is the night: the night you and marcus' dessert menu goes live, the night you meet natalie berzatto, and the night that truths are revealed.

a/n: is it hot in here or is it just me? who's ready for some smut? this will be the last chapter i post till sunday/monday, so we can all sit with this. hear me out: it's not that i think carmy is really good at sex. but there's so much tension between these two, i think reader is good at sex, and there's something to be said for being so turned on by the other person that it just hits different.

and here is that song -- the jazz standard turned acoustic cover.

read: part three | masterlist

Friday

“Just remember that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. You just have to deliver a really damn good dessert time after time,” you instruct, setting Marcus up, pre-dinner shift. 

“I think we should focus on the burnt basque cheesecake in lieu of the classic. You already have a heavier lift on the bake for the chocolate cake. That way, whatever happens with the mixer, or the ovens… this version of cheesecake is pretty forgiving. And you don’t have to fuck around with a water bath just yet.”

“The tiramisu is perfect because it’s a no-bake option, and you can mix it up with different kinds of flavors – call it a special.” 

“Like what we’re doing Sunday?” Marcus suggests, in reference to the strawberry, lemon, and mascarpone version you be doing at the end of the week.

“Exactly,” you reply.

“Hell yeah.”

“It all fits into the menu so nicely too: elevated classics.”

“A play on tradition.”

“Exactly."

“Ah, I see you, chef,” Marcus nods along, excited about tonight’s R&D night. 

The game plan is to serve smaller portions of each dessert for the price of one, then get feedback by the end of the weekend. 

“Hey, family’s up in a minute. You guys ready to roll tonight?” Carmy asks, stopping by you and Marcus’ little pastry corner. 

“Yes, chef,” you both answer, in staggered timing. 

“She got me workin’ on a strawberry compote. Here, try it, chef,” Marcus encourages, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping out a spoonful from the deli container it’s been stored in. Carmy takes it, putting the spoon in his mouth and he tries the compote. 

“That’s gonna be really good with the tang and slightly bitter outside of the burnt cheesecake. Good work, chef,” he congratulates, inspiring a grin across Marcus face. 

“I’m learning so much from you. Seriously. Thank you, chef,” he says, turning to you. 

“Hey, you’re the one that made the compote,” you reply, redirecting the praise back to him. “Just sayin’.”

“Family’s up!” Sydney calls out to the whole kitchen. 

You lock eyes with Carmy, and he nods towards the front of house as if to say, ‘follow me.’ You and Marcus file in through the limited space that leads from the kitchen to the front counter, then finally, into the dining area of the restaurant. Carmy had told you all about the hellish remodel of this place – that the two tops, booths, and bar remodel had taken for-fuckin-ever. That it looked like nothing more than a diner with a few arcade games before the reopen. 

“Hey, thanks for jumping in so that Angel could cover me the other night,” Ebrahim says to you, as you find a seat next to Carmy, and across from Marcus. 

“Oh, it’s no problem. You feelin’ better?” you ask back. 

“Very much so. A little rest and a little maraq digaag and I’m good as new,” he answers. 

“What’s good, Jeff? Surprised you’ve stuck around this long. Glad we haven’t scared you away yet,” Tina greets. 

Carmy’s shocked, considering Tina rarely warms up to anyone. 

You chuckle in response. 

“It takes a lot more to scare me away, chef,” you reply, confident that you can keep up with everyone’s witty banter. Even though you’ve been welcomed in over the last few days, you know that they were a family before you came. 

And will still be one after you. 

Right. Because this is temporary. You’re only here for a week, you remind yourself. 

“Yeah, thought she’d be long gone after workin’ the line the other night,” Richie chimes in. “Especially considering she’s way out of your league, cousin.” 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Carmy shoots back, almost instantly. 

“I’m just glad you’re here now. Man, it’s been three days and you’ve leveled my shit up already,” Marcus compliments. 

“Besides, it’s nice to have some solidarity amongst the little boys club we work in every damn day,” Sydney points out, eliciting a scoff from Richie.

The two of you share a look, like a psychic high five or some shit. It begins to dawn on you that you could get used to this: this kitchen, these people….

“What? You got something against women supporting women, Richie?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the voice of feminism now, Syd?” Richie spits back. “Holy shit! Did you guys know that we were here in the presence of the new voice of-.”

You watch as Tina and Gary slump in their chairs, as if to say, ‘here they go again.’

“Don’t be such a prick, Richie. Oh wait.” Sydney challenges. 

“You know what-?” Richie starts up, before being swiftly interrupted.

“Damn, Syd. This is fantastic,” you interject, your voice louder than normal, in reference to her family meal. “These tostadas are fuckin’ perfect and I’m gonna need the recipe.”

Richie continues to go on about god knows what, distracting himself, as Sydney mouths a, ‘thank you’ across the table towards you. You nod towards her as if to say, 

I got you.

*

“Hey, I’m a little behind on plating. Sorry, chef,” Marcus apologizes, and you can tell he’s stressed. He gestures towards the plates that are ready to go out to the bar. 

He hesitates before asking, “Oh and uh… these ones are ready to go out. Can you-?”

“‘Course, chef,” you answer, a mini-pep talk coming his way. “But uh… before you keep going, Marcus, take a breath. I know you struggle a little with pacing – you want everything to perfect – but, it’s gonna come with practice and repetition.”

You can see that he’s flustered – a little frustrated even. 

“Expediting during dinner is a whole other animal, and it’s just night one. You got this,” you reassure. 

You and Carmy had such different leadership styles. While you both had come up in the same kind of kitchens, you didn’t like to yell unless you had to. You were here to teach, and you can’t remember the last time someone screaming at you had ever helped you learn something. 

You’re more than happy to support him by taking these plates out. You spent the first half of dinner service plating so that he could get some face time with customers – since you’d be asking for feedback. Then you’d switch halfway through service.  You also thought it might be good practice for him to lead, considering they’d need to hire more help with the new menus. 

You take a look at the ticket, one dessert tasting - two people - bar top, before taking the dessert plates out to the designated seats at the bar. There’s a gorgeous blonde woman sitting next to a guy in a sweater vest, as you make to approach the bar top. 

“Hi, you guys,” you greet, a cheerful smile on your face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’re testing out a few new desserts for our dinner menu, so I’d love to hear what you think.”

“Oh this looks great,” the woman says, looking at both perfectly plated desserts. 

“Here we have a burnt basque cheesecake with a strawberry compote, The Bear’s signature chocolate layer cake, and then a classic Italian tiramisu,” you explain, walking through each piece. 

“Wow,” the man marvels, almost as if he’s surprised. 

You share your name with them, and let them know that, if they have any feedback, that they can ask for you. As you turn to go, the woman calls after you, stopping you. 

“Wait,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re Carmy’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“Pete, it’s Carmy’s friend!” she exclaims, nudging the man next to her with her elbow to try to jog his memory. “You know! The one that’s staying in our airbnb.”

“Oh!” he says, as the light bulb goes on in his brain. “Yeah, we’ve heard all about you.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “I’m Natalie, his sister, but you can call me Sugar. This is my husband, Pete.”

“Oh my god! Natalie! Yes, I’ve heard so much about you too,” you reply, finally registering that this was the same woman in family photos that Carmy had shown you years ago. “It’s so nice to put a face to the name. And great to meet you too, Pete. Seriously, thanks for letting me stay at the place. I mean, you really didn’t have to.”

��Likewise,” she says back. She scoffs before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Leave it to Carmy to ask us for a favor and not even introduce you to us, that soft shitty bitch!”

“Babe,” Pete starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on Carmy, you know, in front of his-.” He gestures towards you and you’re not sure what he thinks you are to Carmy. 

Sugar brushes him off with a, ‘whatever,’ before you notice that they’re both in need of clean forks. 

“You guys need clean forks. I’m gonna-,” you start. 

“Oh no! I uh-, let me get it,” Pete interrupts, practically jumping out of his seat. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaving the two of you alone. 

You lean against the bar top towards Sugar. 

“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” you say with a laugh, stating the obvious. She laughs with a nod towards her husband. 

“Yeah he’s… special,” she replies. “I think he uh, I think he just wanted to give us some time to talk.” 

You’re not sure what to say next, because you’re not sure what you and Carmy’s sister, one you’ve never met before, would have to talk about. 

“So how’s the place? Do you have everything you need or-?” Sugar begins, in reference to the airbnb. 

“Oh! Yeah, no it’s great. I’ve got everything I need. Again, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“No, we wanted to!”

“Thanks…” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable – nervous, maybe? Yep, definitely nervous, you realize, as you begin to ramble. “It’s a really great apartment. Beautifully styled.”

What the fuck are you even talking about, you think to yourself.

“Oh, I did that! Styled it, I mean,” Sugar’s quick to respond.

“Oh, wow!” you say. Were all the Berzattos creative? “Yeah, I just-, I really appreciate it. Made getting out here a little easier.”

“No, yeah, it’s-, it’s no problem,” Sugar continues. “Really… anything for a friend of Carmy’s.” 

You’re not sure why it’s so awkward, and it feels like you’re somehow both dancing around something you’re not even sure you should be dancing around. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m a total bitch for saying this but,” Sugar starts, cautiously. While she doesn’t want to make her brother look like a total loser in front of you, she’s also unsure of how else to say what she says next. 

“Bear's never really had any friends… not a lot of them, at least. So I-. Thank you. I mean. For being his friend, I guess… is what I’m trying to say.” 

Bear.

You figure it's a family nickname. You wonder why you’ve never heard it before, and yet, it’s no surprise that he kept it from you. He’d been so evasive about his family when you’d first met. For a bit, it just felt like a topic that was off limits.

You take a beat, processing what she’s just said. In some ways, you always knew that Carmy was a bit of a loner, but you could feel the weight of what she’s saying – how much it meant to her. 

“I know he’s not always easy to love but. I don’t know. He acts like he doesn’t need people, and I know he does. I mean, people outside of this fucked up shit hole anyways,” she continues, gesturing to her surroundings. 

You agree with a small laugh, “Yeah, he can be a real dick sometimes. That’s for sure.” 

“Seriously. Thank you,” she says, genuinely. 

“Of course,” you reply, making sure she knows that her words mean a lot to you. You take a more playful tone as you continue. “To be fair, we did meet in another fucked up spot. Not so much a shit hole though.”

“Yeah, and there’s that,” she sighs, lightheartedly. 

“I’m just glad he has someone. He needs someone. Even when he doesn’t want to.”

The rest of dinner service is a blur, as your mind continues to incubate on what Sugar had said to you. You let your interaction with her sit there, but try your best to focus on supporting the rest of service. 

You all work together to wrap up the evening – a chaotic dinner service with a lot of lessons learned. You and Carmy are the last to leave as you notice he’s wrapping up a few things in his office. With your jacket on, backpack slung over one shoulder, you stop by to say goodnight before heading out. 

He’s sitting in the chair, furiously scribbling a few notes down on a few pages of graphing paper. Your eyes flicker over all of the silly doodles on the whiteboard behind him. 

“Hey,” you say, causing him to look up from his notebook. 

“Good service tonight,” he says back. 

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Desserts were a hit.”

“I heard,” he replies. 

You wait for him to say more, only he doesn’t. 

“So, I’m gonna get out of here. Marcus is gonna fly solo tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in till the dinner shift,” you start, shooting him a polite smile. 

You take a few steps away from the office before he calls out to you. 

“Hey!” 

You stop, taking a few steps backwards so that you’re standing in the office doorway once again. 

“You hungry?” he asks, tentatively. 

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify: a little nervousness, and something else you haven’t had a chance to name yet. It’s like he’s not ready to part ways with you yet. You smile back at him, hoping to quell whatever nerves he has about the question he just asked you. 

“Always, Carm.”  

You’re tired and your feet ache from a particularly busy service, but you’re not ready to part ways with him either.

“Watcha thinkin?” you ask curiously, sliding your other arm through the loose strap of your backpack. 

“Can I cook you something?” he proposes, hopefully.

You laugh. 

“Is that even a real question?” 

You wait for him as he wraps up his notes and gather his things. Carmy slips on his jacket and ballcap, ready to head home with you. On the way, he lights up a cigarette, offering one to you, but you tell him that you’re trying to quit – or at least trying to cut back. It’s not a long walk back to his place, and you anticipate it being something along the same lines as what he had in New York: facebook marketplace couch, minimal food in the fridge, a TV and a bed. 

Nothing else – just a place to sleep, before he spends most of his day at the restaurant. 

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to see that your assumptions were correct. Carmy flips on a few lights as you follow behind him. You drop your book bag onto his couch, slipping your shoes off and removing your jacket, as Carmy bee lines for the kitchen. You hear the faucet turn on as you tentatively explore his small apartment, before meeting him in the small kitchen area.

He takes his time, washing his hands, before drying them on a dish towel and throwing it over his shoulder. 

“So what are we makin’, chef?” you inquire.

“We aren’t making anything. You’re gonna sit right over here,” he begins, gesturing towards the area across from his gas stovetop. “Oh shit. Hold on. Let me grab you a-.”

“I’m good here, chef,” you interrupt, making a sound as you hop onto the kitchen counter. You immediately reach for the bag of chips he’s thrown onto it. It’s not even closed properly with a clip or anything so expect them to be stale as you pop one of the chips into your mouth.

“Sour cream and onion? Change up from your regular doritos, huh?”

A small smile spreads across his face as he moves around his kitchen, locating a quarter sheet pan. He opens his practically desolate fridge, pulling out a fresh brick of pecorino romano, guanciale, and a few eggs he throws right into the pint-sized deli container that lays on the sheet pan. The rest follow: an unopened pound of dried spaghetti and black pepper, before he gently places the sheet pan on the counter, beginning to preheat two pans on the stovetop. 

“Are you-?”

“Uh huh.”

You smile to yourself. He’s making one of your favorites: carbonara. 

The first time he’d made it for you, you had just started spending some of your days off together – had just agreed to be a part of each others' quarantine pods. You knew he had Italian-American heritage but it was blatantly obvious when you took your first bite.

“Holy fuck,” you had practically moaned at your first bite. “This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude.”

You had tried to convince him that this is the food you both should be cooking, but he vehemently denied the idea, insisting the fine dining was the highest on the food chain and the only way he could make a name for himself. 

He’d been drinking the kool-aid. You both had. 

You sit quietly, as Carmy works. You watch as he cuts perfect lardons, then renders the fat from the cured pork bits. The smell of the guanciale begins to fill the apartment, and Carmy opens a window, just to let the smoke dissipate. 

“You can uh, put some music on if you want,” Carmy says, motioning towards the small bluetooth speaker he has on the coffee table. You agree to, hopping off of the kitchen counter and making your way towards his living area to set up the speaker.

You flip through your phone, looking for a good playlist to put on, settling on one of your dinner party playlists. The speaker booms with the sounds of an old jazz standard, redone as an acoustic cover, and you turn the volume up a little as the water for the spaghetti comes to a boil. 

You spend time looking through Carmy’s bookshelf. It’s filled with thick-spined cookbooks from James Beard winning best restaurants and chefs. You drag your fingertips over the spine of a few classics, but settle on a fairly new book, written by someone at the New York Times. 

“Do you have any other books besides cookbooks?” you call out to him. 

He lets out a dry laugh and you take it as a no. 

You make your way back to your spot on the counter, sliding the open chip bag over, before hopping back up to your seat. You flip through the cookbook as Carmy stays busy with the pasta. 

It’s quiet moments like these that you’ve missed so much. Some days the two of you could talk for hours about sous vide vs reverse searing, and the right way to make a fucking bearnaisse sauce. Other days, Carmy wasn’t much for conversation, and you loved those ones equally. Sometimes, you just wanted company, so he’d come over and work on a recipe and you’d read while he worked in your kitchen.

You could just be together, and it was nice to feel that again. 

No awkward tension of things left unsaid. 

But there was a different kind of tension that seemed to linger between the two of you and you wondered if it had always been there. Had you just never noticed? Between the little comments from Richie about being out of his league, and Pete’s open-ended ‘not in front of his’ you wondered if everyone knew something you didn’t. 

“Which one’d you go with?” he asks, continuing his graceful dance around the kitchen. 

“Korean American. Eric Kim. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up a copy for myself yet, actually,” you answer, flipping through the first few pages.

Your met with quiet as you continue your story.

“You know we’re kind of friends. We went out for drinks a few times. Before I quit my job. Went dancing in the east village and stayed out till two in the morning bar hopping and gossiping about our mutual celebrity crush, Timothee Chalamet,” you add, your attention still fixed on the vibrant, colorful food photographs. 

“Timothee Chalamet, huh?” Carmy asks, amused.

Your attention isn’t on Carmy, or what he’s doing, save for the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. That is, until you look up to find him unceremoniously close to you, peering over onto the page you seem so fascinated with.

“Jesus Christ, Car!” you gasp, surprised by his close proximity. Your heart was beating faster as he took a step back.  “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head hanging as he takes a few steps back. “Didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay!” you assure. But it’s too late, so you change the subject, deciding to finish your story. “Anyways uh… I had to hang out with someone after you left New York. Make some new friends.”

“We both know you’ve never struggled with that,” Carmy points out, eliciting a playful eye roll from you. 

He returns with the most aesthetically pleasing twirl of spaghetti carbonara. It’s so perfect you almost can’t fathom eating it. He hands it to you, then returns to his kitchen counter, plating a second bowl for himself.

After finishing the second twirl, he carelessly tosses his carving fork into the sink, opening another drawer to grab two forks for eating.

“Come on. You don’t want it to get cold,” he encourages, handing you one of the forks. 

He waits patiently for you to try it first, so you dig your fork in, creating a spaghetti twirl that hugs the fork, before raising it up to your lips. You open your mouth, taking a bite, before closing your eyes in absolute bliss.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

He smiles, and it’s the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face this whole week. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean. Fuck you. Like… absolutely fuck you.”

He laughs, finally picking up his own fork and digging into the second bowl he’s plate for himself. 

Holy fuck, is it out of this world.

“Like, do you think they’re such a thing as a talent aggression? Like a cute aggression, only I want to squeeze your head off because you’re so damn talented-kind of aggression?” you pitch your idea to him, playfully. 

He laughs, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Uh… no. I don’t think so.” 

Carmy rests his back against the counter, as you eat together, side by side. You eat quietly, exchange looks and quiet giggles as the two of you finish your pasta, slurping up the cheesy, egg-yolk coated noodles. When you finish your bowl, you put it down on the counter next to you, throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“Thank you,” you say, fully satisfied as you feel the dopamine rush of eating carbs. 

“That good, huh?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face. 

“So good,” you exhale happily, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know it, you asshole.” 

He chuckles, turning his head towards you just as you lift your head off of his shoulder, your faces mere inches away from each other. You watch as his face turns a few shades darker, the blush across his cheeks running through his whole face. 

Are you two fucking idiots to pretend that you were just friends?

Yeah. Yes, you are.

“Sorry, I’m, I didn’t mean to um,” he stutters, beginning to pull away from you.

“Wait,” you call out, reaching out to stop him. You grab his arm. 

And there it is again… the tension. That thing that, even when you had talked it out, has remained between you two. He stops moving, his eyes fixated on your hand – the one that’s reached for him. The one that feels hot against his skin. 

“Carm, I-. Um, I’ve really missed…” you stammer through, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel. 

I’ve really missed you.

“... your carbonara.” He looks up at you with those beautifully sad, cerulean blue eyes, and if you weren’t breathless before, you certainly are now. 

“You should make this more often,” is all you manage to get out, and you know you sound helpless. 

He doesn’t know what to say back. That he can hear the ache in your voice – a yearning for him that he never imagined anyone could ever have for him. That it’d be world war three, trying to get a carbonara on the dinner menu. That screaming would ensue over a goddamn emulsion. That there’d be no way to pull this off authentically, and that he’d have to use heavy cream, and no fucking way would he compromise on that. 

On your favorite fucking dish. 

That he only has these ingredients on hand because he went out and bought them in preparation for your visit. 

That he only got them for you. 

Because he maybe only wants to make carbonara for you, and only you, for forever and ever. 

That he’s missed you too, and that wanting you is one of the scariest things he’s ever felt. 

His eyes flicker from your hand, the one still holding onto him, and then back to your face. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he can hear his brother’s voice in his head, let it rip, pushing him to lean in – even closer towards you. You wrap your fingers around his arm, encouraging him closer to you – if it’s even possible. Your foreheads meet and it’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It’s like your vision narrows and the dimly lit apartment has faded away behind you. 

It’s just you and him. 

You feel dizzy – in the most delicious way possible.

You’re not sure who moves in first, but the tip of his nose is ever so gently bumping against yours. You brush the side of your nose against his, neither of you daring to take a breath. 

“Carm?”

He doesn’t answer, so you gently begin to leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

“This okay?”

Then the side of his top lip. 

“Mhm,” he nods, eager to continue where this is going. 

Then you pull back, pulling him towards you so that, as you remain perched on top of his kitchen countertop, he fits perfectly between your knees. You lean in to kiss him, and this time, it’s not as hesitant… not as cautious as you’ve both been. 

No, these kisses are different, each one opening up the door to more and more – more want, more need, more lust – and as it blooms, as it blossoms, you feel Carmy’s hand move gingerly to cradle your face as you fall down the rabbit hole. Your fingers tangle into his blonde curls allowing your sheer want for him to consume you. It’s lips, and tangled tongues, and tentative, soft moans as you continue to pull each other closer and closer.

And you slowly begin to understand: the lingering tension, the avoidance of labeling you from his brother-in-law, why he’s been terrified to say a damn thing to you this entire week.

As much as you tried, and as much as he’s tried, neither of you had put that night behind you. 

Sure, it was shitty timing, and sure he wasn’t in the right headspace then. But now? 

Now, could be different, if you’d let it. 

Carmy pulls away from you, reluctantly, his face hot before asking, “You uh, you wanna take this somewhere else?”

His tone is hopeful, as if he’s the teenage dirtbag asking the prom queen out – like if you heard him, and you laughed in his face, he simply wouldn’t survive it. 

But your response is quite the opposite, and he feels silly for worrying, as you manage a breathy ‘yes’ going back in for one more kiss. He gives you some space to hop off the counter and you grab his hand, leading him towards his bedroom. It’s not a huge place, so you put two and two together about where that is. Carmy leaves the lights off in his bedroom, the only glimmer of light either of you can see comes from the living room lamps, and the kitchen overhead. 

With his hand in yours, you pull him towards you again, and he’s more than happy to let you lead. You begin to kiss him, taking note of how perfectly his top lip feels nestled in between yours. He follows you down to his bed, hesitant to put his full body weight on top of you. You giggle into the kiss, pulling him down to you. 

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Carm,” you tease, gently. 

You feel his lips twist into a smile against yours, as he begins to leave sloppier, wetter kisses down your neck. You allow him to explore as his hesitation lessens, his hands beginning to bunch up the hemline of your shirt. Higher and higher. And before you know it, you’re taking it off, impatiently throwing it somewhere you’ll barely remember in the light of day. You pull Carmy back down for another kiss, this time with a little more intensity, as he covers his body with yours, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of newly revealed skin that he possibly can. 

You’re not sure when his shirt joined yours on the floor but before it registers, you’re running your fingers across the muscles of his back, exploring each peak and valley. You hiss in pure pleasure as he pulls down one of the cups of your bra, his tongue running across one of your nipples. You can feel him smile against your skin, a well-won reaction from the pleasure he’s giving you. His other hand reaches up to give equal attention to your other breast, and moments later, you’re both impatiently pulling your bra off. 

“Wanna try something,” Carmy murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. 

You can feel the wet heat pooling between your legs as you breathe out, “Okay.”

The anticipation is building in your body and you feel like your head might explode. Carmy busies his mouth once again, leaving kisses down your torso as his hands begin to fiddle with the button on your jeans. You giggle, more than willing to help him out as he gets them undone, lifting your hips so that he can slide them off. 

He’s hesitant, and you’re trying your damnedest to be patient as he takes his sweet time to marvel at your almost-naked body. 

“So fucking perfect,” Carmy whispers, in between leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across your hip bones. You can hardly breathe, panting out loud as he continues his exploration. You make space for him between your legs as he slips his hands into your panties, dragging a finger up and down your dripping sex.

He checks in with you, gauging your reaction, and you nod as he continues what he’s doing. 

“This all for me?” he asks. He means for it to sound confident, but as the words leave him, he sounds more surprised than anything.

Before you can answer, he’s pushing your legs wider, his tongue gently running across your clit, causing you to cry out to the gods. He’s tentative at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to gather up the confidence to keep going, with the noises you’re making. At first it’s all tongue, licking, circling and flattening up against you, but you’re losing your mind as he adds his fingers back into the mix. His fingers are buried deep inside of you while his lips and tongue are bringing you far past your edge.

It’s as if the only words you can remember are his name, and ‘fuck.’ 

You feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he murmurs, “Just wanna make you feel good.”

You can feel it – your climax – building up, and Carmy groans, rutting his hips into the bed as he can no longer ignore how hard he is. 

“Carmy, yes. Don’t stop, please. I’m-,” you beg, your voice shaking.

And he has no intention of stopping till he gets what he wants – till he makes you cum. He works you through your orgasm, groaning against you as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers. You swear for a moment that you can’t hear a single thing as stars fill your vision. As you come to, it starts with only the sounds of the heavy pants that escape your mouth. Carmy sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Holy fuck,” you say, breathless. 

Carmy lays over you once again, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his lips. 

Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans and you order, no patience left in a single cell of your body, “Off. These need to come off.”

He chuckles, hurrying through the removal of his jeans. You’re so eager to feel the weight of his body on top of yours again that you pull him back down to you before he’s even able to properly take them off. 

He’s kissing you again as you reach down, grabbing his hard length through his underwear. He’s thicker than you remember. You slip your hand into the waistband of his briefs, causing him to grunt. He hisses your name as you wrap your soft hand around his dick, bucking his hips into your hand. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, desperately. “I wanna feel you, Carm.”

“Mhm.”

He doesn’t keep condoms around. It’s not like this happens very often for him. But Richie had thrown a pack of condoms at his head the minute he found out that the friend that was coming to visit was a girl. Richie had teased him with some stupid quip like ‘don’t forget to wrap it up, cousin. No one wants a mini-eleven madison park dickhead running around here.’

He hadn’t expected this to happen. But it’s not like he’d thrown the condoms away either – tucking them into the single drawer of his nightstand. 

You wait as he reaches over and pulls out a condom from his nightstand. You want to ask him about why he has them, but as long as you get to feel him, you’re not sure you care. 

You’ve been here before with him, but this is different. He sits up on his knees and you follow him, pulling his briefs down properly and giving him time to roll on the condom. He follows you back down onto the bed as you wrap a leg around his waist so that he can fit perfectly between yours. 

He waits a beat, and then you feel his thick tip pushing against you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He rubs the head up and down your slick core, before slowly beginning to push into you. 

You both gasp at the feel of each other. 

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, dropping his head into the crevice of your neck. He hopes you can’t tell how utterly helpless he feels.

You hiss at the way he’s stretching you open, the pads of your fingertips digging into his arms. You’re holding onto his arms for dear life as he fills you all the way to the hilt. You let out another moan as you as he stays there for a moment. 

“This okay?” 

You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again. You start moving your hips against his as Carmy gives you shallow thrusts. 

“Hold on,” he breathes out, holding your hips down for a moment. “Just-, just give me a second.” 

And you do, allowing him to collect himself, before he’s giving you shallow, gentle thrusts. 

But you’re in desperate need for more. 

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Fucking move.” 

Finally, finally, he pulls almost all the way out, before driving himself back into you, earning a cry from you as the pleasure is just too much. 

“Oh fuck!”

You want more. You want everything and all of him and so much more. And he gives it to you, continuing to check in that what he’s doing is okay. Before you know it, you’re begging him to go faster, harder, convincing him that you’re not fucking breakable and that you want more, grasping at the sheets and his biceps, and his curls –  anything you can hang on to as he’s bringing you over your edge again for the second time tonight. 

You’re crying out his name as you cum, and Carmy thinks it may be the sweetest, best thing he’s ever heard in his life. He fucks you through your climax, beginning to slow down the pace of this thrusts. He pauses, kisses you long and hard, passionately pausing just to be in this moment with you. 

“Carm?” you manage to get out. You wonder if he can hear how much you want him just by the sound of your voice. 

“Hm?”

“I wanna ride you,” you say, and you can feel that your words have gone straight to his dick as he twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you clumsily change positions – him on his back staring up at you in awe, like how the hell does that perfect, beautiful, creature want to be here with me now? You reach down, guiding him back inside of you and you’re both gasping at the contact. You begin grinding your hips against him, watching his eyes roll back as you make your movement a little bigger. 

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs out, the pleasure of it all taking over his brain. 

You know he won’t last much longer as you begin to ride him, rocking your hips back and forth. Carmy hands are on your hips, then running up and down your torso, grabbing your tits, and then they’re pulling you down to him for another passionate makeout as you continue your movements. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep riding him, reaching for his hands and placing them along your hips. 

“Show me how you want it,” you whisper in between kisses. 

“I think this is nice,” he manages to say. 

“Show me how you want it, Carmen,” you demand, emphasizing your need for him with use of his full name. “Let me make you cum.” 

You squeeze his hands against your ass, egging him on, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. He holds onto your hips, before thrusting up into you, setting a bruising pace as your moans become louder and louder. You scream out his name, as he brings you closer and closer to your high, chasing his with him. 

He grunts, his thrusts becoming sloppier, messier, more desperate and you let him use your body in the most delicious ways. 

“Are you gonna cum?”

Instead of answering, he’s driving into you like a fucking mad man, and you’re riding him through his high till you both collapse. 

Carmy lets out a strangled moan as he cums, so you begin to slow your movements. You’re breathless, hunched over him, your foreheads touching as you exchange a laugh.

It's a kind of 'I can't believe we just did that' kind of laugh.

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” you agree, a stupid, blissed out smile on both of your faces.

“That was-.”

“Yeah.”

You get off of him, allowing him to get up and dispose of the condom. He’s not gone long before he returns to you, wrapping the both of you up in his sheets and into his arms. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever had. 

It feels… magnificent. 

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, leaving a few soft kisses along your shoulder. 

“After that?” you giggle, as his lips against your neck begin to tickle. “You’re not getting rid of me, Berzatto. Not a fucking chance.”

read: part five

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney

[lolahauri]

: ̗̀➛ Jeff The Killer: Smut Alphabet 🔞

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Pretty basic tbh, he’ll bring you a warm towel or pick you up and take you to the shower. Afterwards you’ll cuddle and go to sleep (get it) if it’s nighttime. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His arms are his favorite part of himself, he’s definitely strong enough to pick you up, pin you down, or toss you around in bed. And he’s VERY proud of it. His favorite part of you is your mouth. Both because he loves your voice/moans and loves how you well you suck him off. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves cumming down your throat, and making you swallow it. Just the thought of that gets him hard immediately.

Honorable mentions: on your face, on your chest, in your ass.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

As possessive as he is, he’s really turned on by the thought of a threesome with one of his or your friends, specifically you being pleased by both parties.

If your a guy, he’d invite Ben. If you’re a girl, he’d tell you to invite Nina.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Honestly very little experience before you, like Ben, he knows what he likes by watching unhealthy amounts of porn. He’s pretty crude and off putting, so none of the other female creepypasta’s want anything to do with him. And ya know… he’s a killer, most normal women don’t want him unless they’re drunk or being paid.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy, basic but true. Gives him the chance to slap your ass and pull your hair.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

One of the more serious guys. He’s totally focused on reaching his own high, no time for jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trims infrequently. Probably sports a bush most of the time, unless you complain about it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not very romantic, he has a hard time expressing his good emotions, and this extends to the bedroom as well. You would have to talk about it with him if you want to be more intimate.

And don’t get me wrong he does truly love you, but bro’s emotionally constipated and never been in a romantic relationship, plus the few times he’s had sex before you, it was either with escorts or a drunk one-night stand from a bar. Not exactly loving and romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pre-relationship: average amount, like every day or two.

Now: Hardly ever, he only really masturbates if you aren’t in the mood. The few times he does jerk off though, all he’s imagining is pounding you from behind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Light bdsm, dom/sub dynamics, degrading, praise, spanking, hair pulling, throat fucking, general roughness,  knife play, choking, predator/prey, painal, cnc.

Not really a kink of his, but if you’re into watersports, he’d for sure piss on you if you asked. To him, that’s like the ultimate form of degradation (okay maybe he is kinda into it)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. Man is not shy at all, he’ll fuck you on the mansion’s dining room table while everyone’s eating if you asked. 

Basically public-ish settings, it makes him feel like he’s showing the world who owns you. So for example: Bending you over in the corner of a nightclub, having you (discretely) ride him in the back of a bus (back facing him), picking you up and fucking you against the hallway’s walls, car sex, public bathroom sex, gym locker room sex. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It doesn’t always take something specific, you in general turn him on just by being so cute and hot. Though he is a fan of skimpy clothes and teasing.

Like, he won’t admit he enjoys the teasing, but… 

Imagine putting on some cute booty shorts and a cropped tank top, walking around the mansion and catching the eyes of every guy & girl there. Jeff noticed immediately, and started feeling the anger and jealousy bubble up in him. But you play being innocent so well he actually questions if you know what you’re doing.

So you continue going about your day, making sure to bend over to pick something up every time Jeff is in your vision. You find excuses to give a ‘friendly’ touch to one of the other guys while Jeff watches. Like touching Ben’s arm while laughing at something he said, asking EJ to lift you up because you can’t reach the highest cabinets, swinging your legs over Masky’s lap while your sitting on the couch, i could go on and on. 

Like i said, Jeff won’t admit he likes seeing you tease him or flirt with other guys, but his competitive and possessive nature will always take over, making the jealousy turn into arousal and the primal urge to dominate and claim you as his.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bottoming/subbing. No way he’s gonna let you dominate him, he is literally the embodiment of toxic masculinity. He doesn’t wanna feel like the “weaker” one by being dommed or topped by his partner (even tho he’d for sure like it if he tried it)

Also wouldn’t do sounding, the idea of putting something inside his dick sends a cold chill up his spine.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers receiving, but he’ll go down on you if you ask. 

He surprisingly good at giving head, especially if you tell him afterwards it was just “okay” or “good”. That instantly gets his competitive side going, and he’ll be determined to get better and better at it till he’s making you scream with just his tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough, he’s a wild animal in bed. Expect bruises and scratches to show up the morning after. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves quickies, they’re probably his favorite. He’d be down to have one anytime you want.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Very down to experiment, the list of things he won’t do is pretty short.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can for sure go multiple rounds in a row, and last super long each time. He’s got superhuman endurance when it comes to fucking you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Probably just a pocket pussy, it’s also probably homemade 💀

I think he’d have a hefty collection of toys to use on his partner tho.

Ropes, ball gags, handcuffs, whips, butt plugs, vibrating panties, multiple styles of vibrators, dildos, cock rings, nipple clamps. 

You name it, he has it (or will buy it for you asap)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

His way of teasing is edging and overstimulation. He loves seeing you squirm around from the mix of pain and pleasure.

If you pissed him off that day, he’ll edge you for hours. He’ll bring you within a second of your orgasm, just to take it away and continue using you like a sex doll. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Load grunting and heavy breathing, like i said, he’s pretty animalistic in bed.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves when you bite and scratch him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

About 6.5 inches and thick. A couple veins, and curved upwards a bit.

Has a Prince Albert piercing.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mildly high. Not as horny as Ben, but probably more horny than you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t usually, unless it’s literally the middle of the night. Most of the time, you two will fuck and just go on with the day.

[wheneverfeasible]

🧠 🪱 WIGGLY WEDNESDAY 🪱 🧠

Thanks for the tag @stervrucht ! Ended up writing this on my lunch and hiding in the back at work lmaoooo

Because today I’m thinking about…children’s entertainer Eddie Munson and single parent Steve Harrington…

-

This is definitely a modern au. Eddie did the whole band thing in high school, and they still get together and play in bars and occasionally at events and things, but now Eddie’s music is…different.

Like…think Johnny Karate different.

Except he’s still Eddie. He still dresses in darker clothing, still keeps the metal influence in his music, it’s just all kid appropriate nowadays. He sings songs that are inspired by DnD and fantasy novels he loved growing up, like The Hobbit and The Last Unicorn. He even has a couple children’s books out based on his songs and stories. (His buddy Jeff illustrates them.)

Now, Eddie’s biggest fan happens to be Dustin Henderson, the young friend of single parent Steve Harrington. Dustin is actually a fan of Corroded Coffin as well, which is how he learned of Eddie’s children entertainment persona, The Freak (so named to show kids it’s good to be different), who sometimes dresses up like a court jester, especially when working a kid’s birthday party, crowning the kid as king or queen or anything else their little heart desires.

Steve has two little kids, twins, a boy and a girl. Their fifth birthday is coming up and Dustin convinces Steve to hire Eddie. After much heeing and hawing, Steve finally agrees, if only because Dustin gets the kids to whine about it too, and Steve honestly can’t say no to any of kids, even the ones that are only fiveish years younger than him.

Eddie comes, dressed in his understated jester costume, and the kids absolutely adore him. He all but beams when the boy staunchly proclaims he wants to be a princess, not a prince, and the little girl decides she wants to be a goblin. But a good one. Eddie grins and tells her to watch out for enchanted crystals.

The kids then decide that if the boy is a princess, then that makes their dad the king, and Eddie grins even wider and flourishes an adult size crown for just this sort of occasion. After a lot of complaining about his hair, Steve finally agrees to wear the crown, feeling oddly flushed when Eddie gets close enough to set it on top his head.

“Don’t worry, darling, I won’t mess your hair up too badly. Not until you ask me too,” he whispers just for Steve to hear and winks, even as he quickly jumps away because rule number one is never flirt with a parent when he’s on a job. Something about the single dad is just a little too much for Eddie’s self-restraint, however. Both are blushing.

The rest of the party goes on well, he even gets most of the adults to join in on the ridiculous and repetitive titles, and maybe he showboats a little with his guitar riffs, but Steve’s eyes have barely left him the entire time, and only then when he needed to keep his eyes on the kids.

Eddie is paid and leaves, like he’s supposed to, though not without giving out his business card to some of the other attending parents who want to hire him as well for their own kids’ birthday parties. All in all, a successful night. He gives one last glance at Steve and then he’s gone.

…

Time passes, yeah? Steve can’t stop thinking about Eddie. Eddie can’t stop thinking about Steve. They both think that’s the end of it.

And then Dustin, matchmaker extraordinaire who clocked that shit immediately because Steve hasn’t looked at anyone since the kids, convinces Steve to go to a bar with him where a live band is playing.

The band?

Why, what else but Corroded Coffin.

And the lead guitarist? Well he just happens to look beautifully familiar.

-

rip fartbuckle

-

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

No pressure tags: @scoops-aboy86 @endlessmusings1801 @steddieassheg0es @steddiecameraroll @fkinkindagauche (if you’ve already been tagged and posted before, let me know so I can read your stuff!)

[theribbonmarkedroom]

11 quick(ish) things I learned from my first read-through of the ATSV art book:

1) Jeff was promoted to police chief because of his “cordial relationship” with Spider-Man (which makes things so much worse)

2) the creative team from the movie were directly inspired by the spidersonas people made when Into the Spider-Verse came out (especially when creating new Spider Heroes)

3) the immediate colors of Gwen’s world are based on her mood “She’s kind of like a mood ring, and whatever she’s experiencing is expressed in the color of that scene” (I say immediate because it’s mentioned that anything she’s not directly focused on gets pushed to the back in terms of colors, so the backgrounds are more muted at times while the main part of the scenes are more vibrant)

4) idk if this was in the comics because I don't follow any of the comics, but Pavitir got his powers “from a mystical shaman” and was not bitten by a radioactive spider

5) the book refers to Earth-42 Miles as Miles G. Morales (like Peter B. Parker) & “We wanted to create a world where it felt like Aaron and Miles G. Morales of Earth-42 [this reality’s counterpart to Miles] are the only heroes”

6) Peter B. is “a stay at home dad” (besides the spider society stuff of course)

7) LYLA is an acronym for “Lyrate Lifeform Approximation” (and she is also “Miguel’s closest friend” and maybe even his only friend)

8) Miguel has a personal journal that LYLA helps record entries for

9) Kemp Powers (the director) describes Hobie as “much older” than Miles. I bring this up since there’s been some debate about his age in the film for a while but the art book doesn't give anything more specific than that

10) Spider-Byte “thinks Miles is kind of cute” (which is obvious from the film but I think it’s funny how it’s brought up in relation to the reasons why she helped Miles escape Miguel)

11) There’s a deleted scene from the film where Spot goes to The Bar With No Name and has some interactions with some familiar villains and the bartender (won’t say too much about it since I’m assuming the scene will show up in the blu ray)

[justasecretflower]

🥀- Dating Jeff! The killer before he became a proxy!

- fluff.

‼️swearing! its jeff obviously…

_______________________________

- Liu was 100% the more popular brother, he was more gentle, more kind, had more looks and friends.

- so naturally, Jeff didn’t even believe you when you said you liked him, like Toby.

- he thought you were just trying to get close to his “better” younger brother.

- you have to keep trying for him to actually believe you. You kept asking him out, telling him he looked nice, or complimenting him for getting a good score.

-he finally believes you after like a month of this and he went out to the park as a date. You brought some snacks and stuff to drink.

- You both hid in the slide. Lying right next to each other in the plastic red slide away from everyone else, talking for just hours straight. He knew he had to go home, but he didn’t care. This was his first ever date.

- “where’s my hug at?” Btw.

- “guess who?” While closing your eyes

- acts like a super senior without the pedophilia

- holds stuff above your head too.

- the first time you kissed he was fed up of procrastination. You sat next to him under the bleachers late at night, then randomly got grabbed by your cheeks and kissed roughly.

- it was a long, deep, rough kiss. He put all of his passion and love for you in that kiss.

- he didn’t apologize for how rough he grabbed you, or how sudden it was, he only went in for a second kiss.

- late night walks>>>>>>

- him giving you that dirty white hoodie he always wears when you get cold.

- makes little notes for you in class, forms a paper airplane and aims straight for your head. Then snickers about it.

- he bites. Not as something sexual just a little sign of affection. Your arm, shoulder, and jaw have become a constant place for him to bite.

-no, he will never do it hard; ever.

- can’t afford flowers, picks up weeds while walking and gives them to you.

- if you’re eating something, he snatches it up and takes a bite.

-same goes for if you’re drinking something, don’t mind him just taking a little swig.

- writes his initial and hearts on your hand all the time

-writes YOUR initial and hearts on his converse

- has a picture of you in his hoodie pocket, sure it’s a little dirt and crumpled but it’s something.

- neck kisses, on the back of the neck :(

- doesn’t know how to express his love, so he does tiny things like picking up cool trinkets he finds on the ground, helping you with a problem in school, and drawing tiny hearts everywhere (on you and your paper)

- has a tiny version of your purfume that he keeps to spray his pillows when he wants to pretend like he’s holding you.

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“Hmmm…a doctor?” You ask, this was the 5th thing you’ve asked him what he wants to be when he grows up, so far he’s said no to everything and it’s been getting progressively harder to think of more careers. The chill of the autumn air dances between the strands of mine and Jeff’s hair, lightly kissing my cheek and making my cheeks and tip of my nose red. He was climbing up towards the monkey bars. Hopping to one of them he thrusts an arm out to reach for the other bar. “Fuck no. Too much work” Jeff huffs a laugh. Lifting his body up to curl his legs on one of the bars, leaving him hanging upside down. I walk towards him, putting my hands on his cheeks. “I give up, what do you wanna be when you grow up.” He looks at me, eyes getting softer, lighter. “With you.” He says, smashing our lips together, like he always does, but pulling away quickly. “Don’t tell anyone I said that corny shit..” he mumbles, hopping down from the bars and rubbing his hands together. I just smile brightly.

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- all of his movements seem like he’s scared of losing you, like you’re gonna disappear within seconds.

- grips your hand with a death grip, kisses you rough and fast, hugs you so tight you can’t breathe.

- it’s only in the quiet of the night when he stays over, spooning you does he gently hold your hand and softly kiss your face.

Pt 2. Meeting Jeff! The killer again after dating him before he was a proxy

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