#frank stranger things

[withacapitalp]

Tell Him (Nothing) Everything Pt 3

Part One Part Two Link to Ao3

Chapter Three: Three Reunions

“Oh, I’m in so much trouble. I need some help, and I couldn’t think of anyone else to go to. So here I am to bug you again. Congratulations, you get to listen to my problems. Again. Too bad you can’t even stop me!” 

Silence. Nothing but silence. There wasn’t even the sound of birds. 

“I brought you flowers. Violets and white roses. I went to that florist you really liked. I actually know the people that own it now. Well, Steve knows them. Apparently one of their kids is friends with his little brother so he got me a hookup. I didn’t tell him why I needed the flowers, but I think it was okay. He’s good at not asking. It’s nice.” 

Eddie could write a song about this. The quiet, the silence that was both freeing and confining. The way the violets and roses were held together with a soft blue ribbon that matched her eyes. 

It wouldn’t be like any other song he wrote, but that was good. A song for Chrissy was going to have to be special, maybe the most important one he ever sang. 

“I haven’t told you about him. Steve. He lives here in Hawkins, if you can believe that I fell for a small town hick. That’s a joke, and it’s not really that nice. I shouldn’t say that. He’s not a hick. He’s actually really sweet, and thoughtful, and funny, and… He owns a cafe in the middle of town called Claudia’s. I bet you went there when we came home to visit, it’s totally your kind of place. Maybe you even knew him. He’s only a few years younger than us, so you might’ve been in school together or something. You were the Prom Queen, and he was apparently a big time jock. I hope you guys never kissed or anything, that would be so weird.” 

The good thing about going to the cemetery early in the morning was that it was always empty. Eddie was the only person there, so he could sit with his back against Chrissy’s headstone and babble freely without any worries of who might be listening in. 

“I really like him, Chris. Like actually really like him, not just really like him because he’s giving me attention and I’m lonely.”

That was the thing she always worried about. She was viciously protective of Eddie, and she approached every one of his potential partners with high scrutiny over their intentions. 

If only he had done the same. 

The band even had a joke about it. No one Eddie ever went out with got the ‘Chrissy Stamp of Approval’. None of the dozens of men and women who wanted her best friend were good enough for him in her eyes. 

Steve would’ve passed her test. Eddie was sure of it. 

“You know that thing you always told me? About how I was going to find someone who just made things easy? I think I finally did. I’ve been so tired since… since everything, and when I’m with him I’m not tired. I’m- I’m happy. I don’t know if I deserve that. Actually, I know I don’t deserve it, but I am happy. Really happy, Chrissy, which isn’t fair, but it is true.” 

Chrissy would have hated to hear him say that. She never liked when he put himself down. But without her around to check him on that, Eddie’s mind had no reason to stay away from the dark thoughts that lingered on the edges of his psyche. 

“He’s just so kind. He always has time for me, even when things are busy. And he never pushes, even when I can tell he wants to. He’s raising his little brother, who is a huge fan by the way, and he takes care of this entire horde of kids that Dustin is friends with. I’ve never met any of them, but I can just tell they love him as much as he loves them.” 

Eddie could tell by the hand drawn cards that littered the back wall of Claudia’s and the endless photo albums that Steve had on his phone. He could see it in the soft smile Steve wore any time he spoke about any of the kids, and the way he always saved extras of their favorite treats.  

Normally, Eddie was terrified of people with children, petrified by the thought of fucking someone up like his parents had fucked him up. Wayne had healed most of those wounds, but ultimately Eddie had still sworn that he would never have any kids. He even got a vasectomy when he was 19 just to be a hundred percent sure that there would never be an accident. 

Now all he wanted to do was meet Steve’s kids and do a solo show, just to rock their socks off. 

“I can practically hear you in my head. ‘Why not just ask him out already then, Munson?’ Well, he doesn’t know me. I mean he knows me, but he doesn’t know that I’m ‘The Eddie Munson.’” 

He could practically hear her groaning, begging him to come down from his inflated ego trip and realize that he was the same as any other person. 

“I’m not the same as any other person though, Chris. You know what it’s like. Anyone who dates me gets put through the ringer. The paparazzi, the fans, the gossip rags, the YouTube channels, the Instagram stalkers. Steve’s life is so- small isn’t nice to say, but that’s what it is! He has this good little life that he’s carved out for himself and his brother in this small town world, and dating me would implode that. And it’s not like I can just walk away forever. I’m going to have to go back eventually. The band needs me, and the fans need me, and…and I don’t know who I am anymore if I’m not ‘The Eddie Munson’.” 

He was someone Steve liked, he knew that much. They had been flirting pretty much the entire time but since his mini-freakout in the cafe, it had taken on a much more serious air, and their casual touches were starting to linger. 

One of them was going to make a move soon, and Eddie needed to figure out what he wanted before that. 

Well, not what he wanted. He knew what he wanted. He just didn’t know if that was the best option. 

“I wish you were here. You’d know what to do…” 

But she wasn’t. Chrissy wasn’t here. She was in the feeling of strumming a guitar, the sound of rain outside, the smell of Steve’s baking. Chrissy lived in a thousand different ways, she just wasn’t here anymore, and the closest Eddie could get to talking with her was sitting by her grave and talking to the air. 

In other words, he couldn’t talk to her at all. 

“I have to tell him first. I’ll tell him everything, and then I’ll let him decide if he still wants me. Today’s a good day for it anyway, right? It was supposed to be a special day. Now it’s just special for a different reason.” 

With that Eddie stood up, stretching and rubbing at the spots that had gotten locked up from sitting on the ground too long. He put the flowers down where he had just been sitting and lighty ran his fingers over the top of her white marble headstone, reading the same inscription he had read a thousand different times. 

Christiana “Chrissy” Cunningham

December 25th 1996- February 14th 2022

“And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief.”

Wayne had helped him pick it out. He was the one who suggested burying her here in the first place. Chrissy hadn’t had any family left but him and Wayne, and no one would ever look here to disturb her. They had a private funeral and everything, only the two of them and the rest of the band. Not another living soul knew where she was buried, and Eddie wanted to keep it that way. 

After everything, Chrissy deserved a place to rest where no one would ever hurt her again. 

Well, he wanted just one more person to know. 

“When Steve knows everything, I’ll bring him here. Then you can give him your ‘Stamp of Approval’.” Eddie whispered, a soft smile flickering across his face as an unexpected gust of wind pressed against his back. 

He didn’t believe in God, or the Devil, or any of the things the world tried to push, but he did believe in Chrissy. She lived, even if she wasn’t here, and when he was able to look past his own grief, he knew she wanted him to live too. 

“Happy Not the Start of Tour Day,” Eddie called back towards her grave as he walked away. He was starving and only a certain man’s beignets would be enough to fill his belly right now. 

And, like Eddie had called upon the God of Beignets himself, Steve was walking towards him just a few rows away, carrying a pink Claudia’s box. The naive part of Eddie was focusing on how cute Steve looked this morning, but the rest of him was instantly on guard. 

How did Steve know he was here?

“I didn’t know you did deliveries,” Eddie called after he had strategically walked about a dozen gravestones away from Chrissy. Just minutes ago he had wanted to show Steve where she was, but now every red flag he had was lighting up. 

Steve looked up when he heard Eddie’s voice, furrowing his brow and quirking his head to the side. 

“Eddie?” 

If he was putting on an act, then he was doing a very good job of being completely confused as to why Eddie was in the cemetery too. 

“In the flesh,” Eddie said coolly, jamming his hands into his pockets and inching a little bit closer, still keeping a safe distance away. He had put his trust in Steve so far, but maybe that was a mistake. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve echoed, staying right where he was. 

“I asked you first,” Eddie challenged.

“I’m uh, visiting someone,” Steve said after a hesitant pause, playing with the twine bow on the top of the box. 

The hesitation was another red flag, but Steve’s body language was the thing that really set Eddie on edge. His shoulders were hunched, and it looked like he was trying to make himself small enough to disappear. Worst of all, his eyes were downcast, which meant Eddie couldn’t get a read on them. 

Steve was an open book, but only when Eddie could actually see that book well enough to read it. Currently he could only get half the story, but it wasn’t a good half. 

“I would hope you’re here to see someone. The only other explanation is that you’re stalking me,” Eddie said bluntly. There were only a few things to do with stalkers: Ignore them, which was a bad plan; Get a restraining order, which was a bad plan; Confront them, which was a bad plan. 

There were only bad plans in this scenario and anxiety was starting to press down on Eddie’s chest, making it hard to breathe. 

“Because you’re someone people are always stalking,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes. The casual bitchiness that Eddie usually loved was now a threat, and he bristled at the comment. By his count, Eddie had gone through at least twenty three stalkers, and those were just the ones that had been serious enough to merit intervention. He had no idea how many people were actually stalking him at any given time. 

And if Steve was number twenty four, then Eddie might really just stop trusting people all together. 

“Seriously, why are you here?” Eddie asked, trying his best to stay calm. 

“Dustin had food poisoning yesterday, so we couldn’t come see her. I asked Heather to look after the store for me while I came to bring these. I don’t really like coming here, but Dustin is adamant that a sweet tooth is eternal, so we have to bring her treats,” Steve explained, holding up the box with an affectionate roll of his eyes. 

That sealed the deal. It wasn’t often that Chrissy got on camera or took the spotlight, but she had been a frequent face on Eddie’s instagram, usually for food pics when they went out. He even had a story that was called ‘Chrissy’s Confectionaries’ just for all the candids he had of every dessert they had shared. 

But how did they find her? How did they know she was here? 

This was supposed to be a safe resting place. It was supposed to be sacred. Now it was destroyed the way everything was. There was nothing secret, nothing that didn’t belong to the world. This was supposed to be the one special place no one would ever bother her again. 

“How do you find out where Chrissy is?!” Eddie demanded, stomping over and getting right in Steve’s face. Steve was pretty, and Eddie thought he was nice, but this was an absolute violation of trust and privacy, and he would not let Steve think it was okay just because his little brother wanted to do it. 

If he even had a brother.   

“Chrissy? Who’s- Eddie I…I’m here to visit my mom,” Steve stuttered out, grief coating every word in sticky black tar. He stepped back, clutching the box close to his chest with one hand and gesturing down to the headstone between them with the other. 

It was a solid granite headstone, a soft red that stood out in the early morning sun. There were yellow tulips planted on either side of it along with a bunch of rocks, a few metal angels, and some tiny cat figurines sitting on the ledge. It was the words that caught Eddie’s eye though. 

Claudia Marie Honore Henderson

November 11th 1979 - October 28th 2019

If pies were books,

Yours would be Shakespeare’s letters.

Eddie read it once, then twice, then a third time. 

Still there. This was still real. 

“Wow,” Eddie whispered, blowing out a harsh breath before letting out one incredulous laugh and pushing his hair away from his face. “I am a complete and total douchebag.” 

A small smile broke through the hurt expression on Steve’s face and he gently nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s with silent forgiveness. 

“Not complete and total, but I’ll give you two douchebag points,” Steve joked, lowering himself down to kneel on the grass in front of Claudia’s grave and patting the spot next to him, “You can share these with me to make it up.” 

Eddie sat down quickly, crossing his legs so they wouldn’t bounce and looking at her grave again. There was nothing on Chrissy’s but the flowers he brought with him. Before, Eddie had thought it was kind of classy. The smooth blank white marble with nothing but the words he and Wayne had chosen. 

Now it felt almost barren, empty, missing the homey touches that Claudia’s grave had. Claudia’s showed how well loved she was, personal things that still made her real. Chrissy’s was just empty. 

“Not pie?” Eddie asked as Steve untied the string and opened the box to reveal three tiny brown cakes with dollops of whipped cream and drizzles of caramel sauce on top. 

“She chose that quote, not me,” Steve replied, handing Eddie a napkin and a cake. He chose one for himself and put the last one in between the angels and the cat figurines. 

Eddie bit into the dessert, automatically closing his eyes and savoring the flavor. It was spicy and sweet, ginger and brown sugar colliding on his tongue in an explosion of deliciousness. The caramel stuck to his lips, messy and oh so good. 

It would be his favorite thing yet if Steve didn’t look so miserable. 

“I never make pies anymore,” Steve murmured, not touching his own cake. He was staring off somewhere in the distance, lost where Eddie couldn’t seem to reach him. “They just don’t taste the same.” 

Eddie knew that feeling. He had it every time he picked up a guitar now. He could play a song perfectly, hit every note at the exact moment he was supposed to, but it didn’t sound the way it should. Music was almost hollow now, a missing element that he couldn’t find no matter how much he practiced. 

He briefly considered telling Steve, empathizing with the loss, sharing the secrets that were weighing him down. 

“Henderson?” He asked instead, hoping that changing the subject would draw them both away from their thoughts. 

“That’s um,” Steve trailed off, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and staring down at his lap. Eddie’s heart ached for him and he briefly hated himself for the foot that had apparently taken up a permanent residence in his mouth. 

“Steve, you don’t have to tell me anything, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay, I want you to know.” Steve said softly, cutting Eddie off. He still didn’t look up, but some of the tension in his shoulders faded. “It’s a really long story though, so maybe another time?” 

“Whenever you want,” Eddie offered, taking the leap and reaching over to take Steve’s hand. Steve looked up with glossy eyes, squeezing his fingers and brushing his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand. 

“And Chrissy?” Steve asked hesitantly. 

Eddie could tell him. They could sit here for the whole morning talking back and forth, sharing those long stories. He had planned to tell Steve the truth today anyway. Now was the perfect time. He just had to open his mouth and start. 

“Also a really long story,” Eddie sighed, mentally screaming at himself. 

He was such a coward sometimes. 

“Whenever you want,” Steve echoed, bringing their joined hands up and kissing the back of Eddie’s hand. It was a bold move, the boldest either of them had gotten so far, but it only cemented what they both already knew. Whatever was going on between them was more than just friendship, for both sides. 

Eddie could pull away now, and maybe that would even be the smart thing to do. In the long run, they would both only get hurt by this, so maybe he should just stop it right here and now. 

Instead, he scooted over so they were sitting leaned against each other, putting their hands in his lap and tapping a melody on Steve’s arm as he finally picked up his cake and began eating it. 

Steve apparently didn’t talk to Claudia like Eddie talked to Chrissy. He just sat with his eyes shut, taking the moment to breathe deep and be present. Normally, Eddie hated silence, needing to fill it with music or words or just about anything, but this was peaceful, nice even. The sunshine that Chrissy now lived in kept them warm, and the breeze that held her spirit brushed past them, and Eddie could just hold the moment instead of needing to understand it. 

He wasn’t sitting by her but he was close enough, and he had Steve, so things were okay. 

“Let’s go back to the cafe, huh?” Steve said after a while, gently butting his head against Eddie’s. “I’ll make you a coffee.” 

“I want a decaf nonfat white mocha with extra caramel chunks and oatmilk,” Eddie joked. Steve groaned, standing up and holding out a hand.

Every day there were at least three or four people that came in with absolutely ridiculous coffee orders, and every day Steve and Eddie would try and decide what the most outlandish one was. Eddie tried to get Steve to be grateful, because LA had about thirty or forty thousand people who had orders like that, but Steve always just gave him the stink eye and said that no one should be asking him for oatmilk in Hawkins, Indiana. 

Sure, he had it, but it was the principle of the thing. 

“Bye Claudia,” Steve said as they straightened up, “Me and Dustin are being safe. I promise.” 

“Don’t worry he’s got me to protect him. Well, me to call 911 if anything goes wrong,” Eddie amended, giving the headstone a two fingered salute. Steve laughed his first real laugh of the day, shaking his head and rolling his eyes as he tugged Eddie away by their still connected hands. 

They continued to hold hands for the entire walk from the cemetery to the cafe, chatting about nothing and everything in the way they always did. By the time they were turning the corner towards Claudia’s, both of them were extremely relaxed, free of any tension or stress that might have lingered if they went on their own. 

“Hey! Eddie!” 

Nevermind. Eddie was rigid as a board. 

“Who’re they?” Steve asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked at the three men sitting at one of the tables in front of his cafe. 

“No one,” Eddie blurted out, pulling his hand away from Steve’s and bouncing on his heels, filled to the brim with nervous energy, “On second thought I think I might skip coming today. And tomorrow. And maybe next week.”

“Eddie-” 

Steve didn’t get a chance to say anything else before there was a body slamming directly into Eddie, the smell of Gareth’s cologne overwhelming his senses.

An unexpected hit of homesickness came right along with him and Eddie found himself holding onto Gareth in a death grip, burying his face in his oldest friend’s shoulder and shaking ever so slightly in his grip. Jeff and Frank quickly pushed themselves into the hug, and for the first time in months the part of Eddie’s heart that belonged to his bandmates quietly slotted back into its place. 

“It’s been 84 years,” Gareth groaned after their way too long hug, holding onto Eddie’s upper arms and shaking him. “Never again man, never again. I can’t be stuck with these two sticks in the mud for that long. It’s been so boring.”

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked for the second time that day, in much higher spirits than he had been the first time, “I told you guys not to try and find me.”

“Well maybe if you answered your phone every so often we wouldn’t have to go halfway across the country chasing you,” Jeff scolded lightly, Frank nodding sagely along with him. 

“How did you even know where I was?” Eddie asked, wracking his brain. The answer immediately popped into his mind and Eddie’s eyes narrowed. 

“Wayne,” He grumbled. Curse his big-hearted, too good, meddling, loving uncle. 

“Eddie, we knew you would be here without him telling us,” Frank said with a roll of his eyes, “But when we dropped our stuff off at the house, he said to go to the bakery in town because the cute guy you’re obsessed with owns it.”

The other two broke into smirks, and all three turned to look at Steve with mischievous grins. 

“I hate you guys,” Eddie said, blushing furiously and wishing that the ground would open up to swallow him whole. 

“Obsessed, huh?” Steve said. His cheeks were dusted with a rosy rouge, but his eyes were locked onto Eddie’s, and he was wearing a very cute, very annoying, smug little smile. 

“He is pretty cute,” Jeff said in mock appraisal. 

“Cute enough to completely blow off a country wide-” 

“Steve, these are my friends. Gareth, Jeff, and Frank,” Eddie said, cutting Gareth off before he could say anything else. “Guys, this is Steve, my…”

Eddie trailed off, unsure of how to end that sentence. Friend? Crush? Something more? 

“Employer,” Steve decided for him, holding out his hand for the rest of the band to shake. 

“Employer?!” Jeff practically shouted as Gareth took Stvee’s hand and began wrenching it up and down. 

“You don’t pay me?” Eddie asked, just as stunned as the rest. Steve had just kissed his hand not even a full hour ago, and that was the word he chose to explain them?  

Employer?!

“You sit in my cafe all day long eating and drinking for free. I think that I deserve at least a little manual labor in return,” Steve said in explanation, giving Eddie a full shit eating grin. 

Oh. He was being messed with. Eddie snorted, holding back his laughter as he tried to give Steve a dirty look. Judging by the way Steve was slowly graduating to a full on beaming smile, he was failing pretty spectacularly.

“I am so confused,” Frank said from behind them. “Eddie, he does know that-”

“Well, Mr. Bossman,”  Eddie quickly interjected, throwing his friends a look that told them to shut their mouths or face the consequences, “Would you pretty please feed my friends while we catch up a little bit?” 

Steve, never one to do anything half-assed, brought out enough mini-quiches to feed an army, an entire tray of ginger cakes, and even some of Eddie’s favorite coconut cluster cookies. The rest of the band had apparently been traveling all night long, and they dug into the food with glee, praising Steve until the tips of his ears were red and he had to walk inside to ‘make coffee’ just to escape the flood of compliments. 

The perfect time for Eddie to come clean. 

“What do you guys think?” He asked, softly opening the question up to his best friends. They were the make or break now that Chrissy couldn’t be. 

“He seems nice,” Frank said politely. 

“He’s a great fucking cook,” Gareth said less politely, picking up the crumbs left on his plate. Jeff rolled his eyes and turned to Eddie. 

“How long have you been dating?”

Great. They were jumping straight into the hard questions. 

“We aren’t,” Eddie said slowly, making all three of them stop short and stare at him with increasingly incredulous looks. 

“Well, I assumed the employer thing was a joke but now I have to ask,” Jeff said, sighing deeply before continuing, “Are you banging your boss?”  

“No!” Eddie immediately shouted, shutting his mouth with a snap and shooting his gaze towards the inside of the cafe. 

Steve was futzing around with something on the counter and either hadn’t heard Eddie’s shout or had ignored it, too used to Eddie’s tendency to be as loud as possible. The tip of his tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully placed caramel drizzle on some concoction he was preparing. 

God, he looked so fucking delectable. Now that the thought of banging was there, he couldn’t escape it. The thought of what that tongue might do-

No. Nope. Stop. 

Eddie was so weak. 

“We’re not- I don’t- it’s not like that,” He finished weakly, groaning and letting his head rest on the table in front of him. 

“Have you asked him out?” Gareth asked. 

Eddie shook his head, keeping his forehead still pressed down against the metal. A brief pause from above him as the band had a silent conversation, and Frank spoke in a very hesitant tone. 

“Does he know?” 

‘Does he know’ was such a blank statement. Does he know you have feelings? Eddie was pretty sure he did. Does he know that you watched your best friend die? No. Does he know why you’re in Hawkins? No. 

But Eddie knew what they were asking. 

Does he know that you are ‘The Eddie Munson’?

He shook his head again ever so slightly. 

“He doesn’t know you’re a world famous rockstar?!” Gareth burst out. Eddie’s head flew back up and he gave Gareth a death glare. 

“Keep your voice down!” He hissed, looking back in the cafe. Steve was still by the counter, now ringing up a little old lady, giving her a gentle smile as he handed over a pretty pink box. 

“Does he live under a rock?” Frank asked, staring at Steve through the window like he was from another planet. 

“Be less obvious,” Eddie complained, rubbing at his temples. “He doesn’t live under a rock. He lives in Hawkins fucking Indiana and he hates social media. Steve barely even uses his Instagram, and that’s only to look at pictures of his best friend who’s traveling the world right now as a guitar player on some lesbian cruise.” 

Remembering all that truly was a testament to how much Eddie liked Steve. He had never laid eyes on Robin Buckley, but he already knew she was Steve’s other half; she co-owned the cafe, she spoke five languages, and she played four instruments- one of which was guitar, hence the whole ‘running away for three months to play guitar on a lesbian cruise’. 

Chrissy would have adored her. 

“You have to tell him, Eddie,” Jeff said softly, giving Eddie a look. “He can’t find out from tabloids or paparazzi or something. It’s a miracle no one’s recognized you yet.”

“I know. I know. I’ve tried,” Eddie said, slightly desperate. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling on the end of his curls. “I tried more than once, but every time it gets close I just-”

Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes, and the next breath he sucked in was unexpectedly shaky. 

Fuck. 

“If I tell him, then I have to tell him everything,” Eddie said, his voice breaking into a whisper halfway through, “and I can’t- I don’t know how-”

“That’s why we came here, even though we knew you didn’t want us,” Frank said, cutting off Eddie’s weak attempts at explaining himself. 

“Because of Steve?” Eddie asked. 

“Because of Chrissy,” Jeff clarified, making the lump in Eddie’s throat grow three times bigger. “Today was supposed to be the day.” 

The day. The start of their big tour. The tour that was going to lead to a new album, that was going to get them that Grammy, that would put Corroded Coffin in the history books forever. 

The tour that Eddie had completely screwed up. 

“Guys… I’m sorry,” Eddie started, getting cut off by Jeff’s hand on his arm and Gareth shaking his head. 

“Don’t start down that road, man. Once you let that monkey on your back, you’ll never get it off,” Frank said easily, spitting wisdom like it meant nothing to him. “She was your best friend.” 

Best friend. What a stupid way to categorize Chrissy. Steve said Robin called him her platonic soulmate, which felt better, but not quite right. Steve just called Robin His Person. His Person, always in a way that you could physically feel the capitalization. 

His Person. 

Chrissy had been His Person. 

“I can’t talk about her yet,” Eddie admitted quietly, feeling shame and smallness covering him like wings. “Hell, I can barely even say her fucking name.” 

“You needed time. We were happy to give it to you,” Jeff said, pulling Eddie down off the cross he kept trying to nail himself to. 

“But seriously, stop shutting us out. We miss her too,” Gareth tacked on, rubbing fruitlessly at his eyes. He had always been a sympathy crier, and even the hint of any of them breaking down sent him into tears. “We miss you, dude.”

Eddie had missed them too. He hadn’t realized it, but the entire time he had been in Hawkins, he had been looking for them. His bandmates had been with him since they were teens, all of them scared and unsure of the future, but so full of hope it hurt to look back and think about it. They had put their faith in him, and he put his trust in them, and they had made something amazing. 

Something Eddie had pushed away the second he could, because he was so sure he didn’t deserve good things, so sure the universe would take them away anyway. 

Maybe that was why he couldn’t tell Steve yet. 

“And if you don’t lock this guy down, I’ll be missing his amazing goddamn quiches too,” Gareth said after they had all taken a second to cool down. He lifted the last one up and shoved it into his mouth in one bite, immediately coughing as he choked. 

“Chrissy would want you to be happy, Eddie,” Jeff said softly as Frank pounded on Gareth’s back trying to dislodge the pastry. “If Steve is gonna make you happy, she would say go for it.” 

“I know,” Eddie replied just as quietly. He had said the same thing to himself a dozen times, but hearing it from Jeff somehow made it even more real.  

Speaking of Steve, he was walking over with a full tray of drinks. 

“Alright I have one black coffee, one latte with a pump of hazelnut syrup and skim milk, and one iced matcha latte,” Steve rattled off as he put down drinks in front of Eddie’s bandmates. He paused after Jeff, giving Eddie a tricky little grin and putting down a colossal cup that was dripping whipped cream onto the saucer it was on. 

“And for you, a decaf nonfat white mocha with extra caramel chunks and oatmilk,” Steve declared, both of them breaking into giggles at the sight of the monstrosity. 

Just like that the weight that had been holding every single cell captive was gone, erased by the light that Steve brought with him everywhere he went. 

“This is disgusting,” Eddie said after taking an experimental sip. 

Steve slid into the open seat next to him, dipping his finger into the whipped cream and dabbing Eddie’s nose before licking it up. This led to an inevitable war of whipped cream till they were both sticky with caramel and laughing breathlessly, the rest of Corroded Coffin watching silently. 

“Hey Steve,” Gareth said, catching the younger boy’s attention, “Wanna go on a date with Eddie tonight?”

It was like the very air stopped still. 

“I’m sorry?” Steve asked, his voice raising up about five octaves. Eddie placed his palms flat on the table, giving his former best friend a triple layer death glare. 

“Gareth!” Eddie hissed.

“You’re being a baby bitch about it,” He said, shrugging unapologetically and looking far too casual for the absolute chaos he was creating. 

“Eddie thinks you're nice and hot,” Frank tacked on. Eddie let out what could only be described as a primal screech, mentally preparing to murder his bandmates right after Steve got up and ordered them all to leave his cafe and never return. 

“He’s scared to make the first move, so we’re making it for him,” Jeff stated, driving the final nail into Eddie’s coffin. “Please go out with him. He’s a mess and he needs someone who can force him to eat a vegetable every once in a while.” 

“Oh my god,” Eddie said quietly to himself, burying his face in his hands. He was going to have to throw himself into the Quarry, or let a semi run him over. There was no coming back from this. None. 

“Eds?”

He didn’t want to look up. He just wanted to just stay right here until he actually turned to stone. Maybe he could. Maybe he just never needed to move again. 

But he did look up, because it was Steve, and Eddie was a total goner for him. 

“Are your friends fucking with me, or do you actually want to go on a date?” Steve asked shyly, looking at Eddie with those stupid big eyes that made him want to give Steve the entire goddamn world. 

He couldn’t give him the whole world. That wasn’t possible. But, Eddie could give him the truth.

Or, he could give Steve a part of the truth, at least.

“I actually want to go on a date,” Eddie admitted, taking the leap. He wrapped a curl around his finger and chewed nervously on his ring, unable to look Steve in the eye. “But only if you want to, I mean.” 

There was a full fifteen seconds of silence in which Eddie was sure he was going to lose his mind. Then a gentle hand pressing at his jaw, turning his head so he was looking Steve in the eye. 

“Well, I have to check that Joyce can watch Dustin, but if it’s okay, why don’t you meet me at The Hawk tonight at 7:00. I’ll get the tickets if you buy the popcorn?” He offered, cheeks a deep red. 

“Sounds good,” Eddie agreed breathlessly, feeling his heart attempt to leap straight out of his chest and into Steve’s hands. 

“Then it’s a date,” Steve said, biting on his lip to try and hold back the huge smile trying to make its way onto his face. “I’m gonna get you a real coffee.” 

Steve was up and gone in the blink of an eye, practically flying into the cafe and disappearing into the back despite all of the coffee supplies being right up front. Eddie watched him go, dazed and shocked as the rest of his bandmates shared victorious high fives and happy whoops. 

“What just happened?!” Eddie practically screamed the second his brain came back online. 

Tags: @dangdirtydemons @excaliburstark

[myfictionaldreams]

😈Kinktober Masterlist 2022

Better late than never, am I right? Hello my dears, welcome to my first ever Kinktober and only a month late!

I hope you enjoy them as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. Warnings will be included in each fic, so please read these before proceeding.

main masterlists // AO3

Day 1: Hair pulling ~ Eddie Munson x f!reader

Day 2: Mommy kink ~ Steven Grant x f!reader

Day 3: Double penetration ~ Steve / Bucky x f!reader

Day 4: Begging ~ Frank Castle x f!reader

Day 5: Clothed sex ~ Loki x f!reader

Day 6: Menstruation ~ Bucky x f!reader

Day 7: Milking ~ James Potter x f!reader

Day 8: Fucking Machines ~ Helmut Zemo x f!reader

Day 9: Anal Sex ~ Tony Stark x f!reader

Day 10: Overstimulation ~ Lee Bodecker x f!reader

Day 11: Sensory Deprivation ~ Jake Lockley x f!reader

Day 12: Ruined Orgasm ~ Mafia! Steve Rogers x f!reader

Day 13: Fisting ~ Sirius Black x f!reader

Day 14: Orgasm Denial/Delay ~ Remus Lupin x f!reader

Day 15: Begging ~ Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Day 16: First Time ~ Steven Grant x f!reader

Day 17: Magic ~ Draco Malfoy x f!reader

Day 18: Cockwarming ~ Professor Remus Lupin x f!reader

Day 19: Dacryphilia ~ Eddie Munson x f!reader

Day 20: Breeding ~ Frank Castle x f!reader

Day 21: Praise Kink ~ Marc Spector x f!reader

Day 22: Size Difference ~ James / Sirius x f!reader

Day 23: Hate Fucking ~ Helmut Zemo x f!reader

Day 24: Choking ~ Steve / Bucky x f!reader

Day 25: Face Sitting ~ Eddie Munson x f!reader

Day 26: Somnophilia ~ Lee Bodecker x f!reader

Day 27: Keeping Quiet ~ Draco Malfoy x f!reader

Day 28: Car Sex ~ Jake Lockley x f!reader

Day 29: Aftercare ~ The marauders x f!reader

Day 30: Squirting ~ Steve Rogers x f!reader

Day 31: Voyeurism/Exhibitionist~ Remus + Sirius/James x f!reader 

[stevesbipanic]

Steve injures his ankle in ninth grade and is forced to sit on the bleachers at P.E for 6 weeks. Here he meets Eddie "Sick Note for Life" Munson and the two of them become little gossipers about everyone in their grades.

[momotonescreaming]

Part One | Part Two

Jeff felt like he was the only one who actually tried to do some study during his free period. Granted, this was mostly because he didn’t share his free period with anyone, but hey. He’s still counting it. It felt easier than studying at home — no mom to knock on his door every few minutes to ask him something, no annoying younger brothers. Just annoying students constantly getting shushed for talking too loud in the library. At least they listened when the librarian scolded them, unlike a pair of certain younger brothers.

So every day he could, he claimed the same table off to the side of the library, spread out his books, and tried to get some work done. Work on an essay, do some math sheets, sneak in some DnD research when he had the time (and wasn’t worried about the other teens trying to vandalise his papers). It meant he had more time at home to do things he actually liked. DnD. Guitar. Watch some TV.

It was calm, it was routine. No one else sat at his table, and it was better that way. No one wanted to hang out with one of the freaks. It was better when the cliques of Hawkins High didn’t interact. It was also easier said than done. A voice clears — light, high, and almost tentative. Right next to his table. Jeff looks up and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Chrissy Cunningham.

His heart skips a beat, butterflies flutter in his stomach, every single lovesick cliché. Jeff felt them all. Feelings swirling in his stomach like honey. Sticky sweet and coating all of his insides. It was inescapable. Unavoidable.

She was cute, and he could swear he could smell her floral perfume and strawberry shampoo. Chrissy was that close and it was a silly little thing he had dreamed about. Being that close to the head cheerleader, his unattainable crush.

Her hair was tied up in a lilac scrunchie, ponytail perfectly curled, with matching lilac eyeshadow. He was close enough that he could notice these things, could see how the colour matched the purple tint in her ruffled plaid skirt.

Jeff smiled at her, almost unconsciously, trying not to seem too much like a freak. Just another normal guy. He didn’t want to scare her off. He listened to Eddie rant about conformity all day, but smiling at a pretty girl to make her more comfortable doesn’t seem so bad.

“Hi, um,” Chrissy starts, clutching a stack of books to her chest. There’s a subtle flush to her cheeks, rosy red, and Jeff can’t quite tell if it’s makeup or if it’s just her flustered over him. She continues before he can start over thinking about whether it’s a good flush or not. Does he make her nervous. “Can I sit here? Everywhere else is taken.”

Jeff looks over, and finds that Chrissy’s right. All the other tables are full, students littering the tables with books and papers with no room for anyone else. All tables, except his. It’s sort of telling, that the only table free is his, and no one else's, but he’s trying not to think about it too hard. Not when it’s led Chrissy to him, cutely and shyly asking if she can sit.

“Of course,” he replies, a little hurried, maybe a little too desperate sounding. He bites back a wince, and moves some of his textbooks out of her way. “Totally.”

And she smiles, something soft and small, just for him — as she thanks him and slides into one of the seats opposite. He smiles back, heart fluttering within the confines of his ribcage. Looking back down at the notes he’s been working on for his English essay, it suddenly doesn’t seem a appealing. Not in the way that it normally does. The words blur into one another, drift across the page, as Jeff tries to keep his gaze firm on the page and not sneaking upwards to glance at Chrissy.

At her perfectly coordinated outfit, preppy and cute, without looking too frumpy. At the way her bangs frame her face, highlighting her cheeks, her shining eyes. At the subtle gloss on her lips, tinted a faint pink. Jeff wonders what it tastes like. What it would feel like against his lips. Is it cherry flavoured, or strawberry — to match her hair. Would it be sticky as their lips meet? A thread of lip gloss and saliva stringing between them as they pull apart.

Shaking his head, willing that particular train of thought to leave his head, he closes his English notes and pulls out the math sheets that Mr Mundy gave them this morning. Grips his pencil tight and tries not to think about how Chrissy is right there. He can hear her organise her books, unzip her bag and take out her things. The scratch of pen on paper. The flip of the pages turning.

It’s sort of soothing, the soft sounds of Chrissy working, a nice noise overlaying the background noises of the library. And not just because it’s her. It’s nicer than the other teens whispering and giggling about being told off by the librarian, it’s better than the annoyances he gets at home. The subtle noise of someone working in tandem with him. It’s nice. Just keeping him company. Even if Chrissy just wanted an empty table, and not him specifically.

Jeff tries to concentrate, and works on his math sheets. Tries to speed through them without totally beefing it. Math isn’t his favourite subject — that would be English Lit, funnily enough —  but he’s not totally terrible at math. DnD has admittedly, helped. Which was part of the reason his parents let him continue with it (the other part, of course, being that he enjoyed it).

So he thinks of DnD, and of math, and tries to focus on Mr Mundy’s worksheet. Except it doesn’t go all that well, because of course it doesn’t. He’ll work through a problem, sneak a glance at Chrissy, at the matching purple shade she’s painted her nails, and look back at the worksheet only to find he’s worked through the problem all wrong. Sighing, Jeff erases what he’s done, and looks at the equation.

“Excuse me, um,” Chrissy starts quietly, whispering as to not invoke the ire of the already stressed librarian. “Do you have a spare pen, mine’s ran out of ink.”

Jeff looks up, throat hitching, lungs holding air as he locks eyes with Chrissy. Clear blue, deep and inviting and looking at him. He tries to hold himself back, to try not to smile like a loon, and he’s not sure if he’s successful or not.

“It’s Jeff,” he starts, clearing his throat, before digging through his pencil case for a pen he can spare. “And sure. Hope blue’s okay. I know O’Donnell can be a real stickler about black pens only.”

"Blue’s fine,” Chrissy giggles. Fucking giggles. Pressing a hand lightly to her mouth, her soft lips — the other reaching out for the pen Jeff retrieved. “It’s not for O’Donnell.”

“No worries then,” he replies, automatically holding his breath as Chrissy takes the pen, her fingertips brushing against the skin of his hand. Her skin is soft, moisturised, and feels like silk against his. What would it be like, Jeff wonders — retracting his hand, not letting himself linger — if she were to hold his hand. Not just a mere brush of fingertips. Would she entangle their fingers, clutching tight? Would she link their pinkies, swinging their arms in between them as they walked? Would she hold his hand over the table, where everyone could see, so they could work and stay connected at the same time?

“Thank you,” She says, shaking him out of it, uncapping the pen. She jolts a little, eyes widening. “Oh! I’m Chrissy by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeff replies, smiling and tilting his head at her. He can feel all his insides melting inside him, conjoining into one horrible feelings-filled blob settling in his stomach. Clawing up his ribs, growing likes vines. It was everywhere, it was growing, no amount of smothering was going to kill this crush anytime soon. Not when Chrissy was there, looking the way she did, smiling at him so sweetly. Being kind to him.

—

At the end of their free period they went their separate ways, shaken out of their quiet camaraderie by the ringing of the bell. She had smiled at thanked him as she left, face flushed and ponytail swinging behind her.

Jeff felt like he was going to melt into a puddle, but he still, tragically, had class to go to. So he quickly packed up his things and headed to his next class. He shared it with Frank, which was nice as they actually got to sit next to one another. But the guy was scarily perceptive, and Jeff kind of wanted to keep that moment to himself for a little bit. Wrap it up in tape and hold it close, tucked into his chest. Just him, and Chrissy, and the way that she smiled at him.

But if Jeff knew Frank (and he did), he’d read Jeff like a book. Hopefully he could read him enough that he knew Jeff wanted it unsaid, just for the moment. Not counting Eddie, of course. He was his best friend, and he got it, with his insufferable crush on Steve Harrington.

He’d tell Frank eventually, of course he would, but not now. Definitely not on school grounds, while everyone was still there. If a cheerleader or god forbid — one of the basketball jocks — heard Jeff say he had a crush on the head cheerleader? He’d throw himself into the deep end of lovers lake, never to be seen again.

So he sighs, and enters his next class, hitches his bag further up his shoulder and heads towards his assigned desk. Frank arrives shortly after, messenger bag slung on one shoulder and they lock eyes. He tries to keep it casual light, but he’s sure he sees something on his face. See the like and love and ooey gooey feelings seeping out of his pores.

“Did Kaminsky quiz you again?” Jeff asks, hoping to draw the attention away from his traitorous heart. Frank immediately groans in exasperation, tilting his head to the ceiling, and Jeff just laughs. A wash of relief rushing over his tangled emotions.

—

School dragged on, as it always did at the end of the day, and all Jeff wanted to do was go home and lock himself in his room. Maybe wallow in his emotions for a bit, let them settle, and learn some love song on the guitar. Use it to work through his feelings. Sort through them like puzzle pieces. Pick them up one by one, and carefully slot them into place.  There’s gotta be some good metal ones he can learn.

Jeff lets his mind drift, thinking of songs, and of guitars, and of learning a song just for Chrissy. Lets the class wash over him, absently writing down notes, entirely without thinking about it. He should care about this stuff, should want to take notes, should want to pass. But all of a sudden it really doesn’t seem like it matters. Not when Chrissy sat with him, had talked to him, had borrowed his pen. She forgot to give it back in the end, in the rush of the bell, but Jeff didn’t mind. Not when his crush now had something of his.

Ripping his gaze back towards the blackboard, towards the teacher, he lets the subconscious smile he was sporting drop from his face. Drifting his way through the end of class until finally, finally, the end of day bell rings and he’s free. Packing up his things as fast as he can, absently chatting with Frank as they exit class along with the flood of students.

It’s not Friday, so there’s no Hellfire. There’s no Corroded Coffin practice, he doesn’t have to drive his brothers across town to soccer, or some other lesson they’ve been begging their parents to go to. He just needs to get them, go home, and then he’s free to lock his bedroom door and melt into the carpet.

“You need a ride?” Jeff asks Frank, furrowing his brow as he turns towards his friend. The pair of them slowly walking to the student car park.

“Nah,” Frank replies, hitching his bag further onto his shoulder. “My mom’s picking me up so she can take us shopping for my dad’s birthday. Thanks though.”

“All good man,” Jeff replies, and he can’t help but be quietly relieved. That he doesn’t have to make more small talk, that he won’t politely have to invite Frank in to hang out (because he would, of course he would). That he can leave the school day behind, go home and spend some time alone. He needs it, every now and then, to centre himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Frank claps him on the shoulder as he says goodbye, before heading over to the pick up zone. Jeff sighs, lets all the air out of his lungs, before going to wait by his car.

It used to be his dads — an old white ford —  but passed onto Jeff when he upgraded on the condition that he help them drive his brothers around. Jeff had agreed, was desperate for his own car — just little bit more freedom — but he was not a fan of being asked to cart his brothers around like a chauffeur.

So at the end of school Jeff would loiter next to his car until bis brother Vincent came over from the middle school, before driving through the truly terrible pick up line at Hawkins Elementary for Kenneth. It wasn’t that bad, usually. If Vincent didn’t take his sweet time chatting to his friends and being annoying. Making Jeff late. Because of course he did.

He had some time, is what he was saying. Absently scans the parking lot, seeing if there’s anyone he knows, anyone interesting he can people watch. If Chrissy is out here somewhere.

Does she take the bus? Does she walk? Is she staying late for cheer practice? Does she drive, or get a ride from someone else? Her mom, her best friend, Jason. Does he walk her to his car after school, does he hold her books or open the door for her? Does he drive her home with his hand resting on her thigh?

Would she let Jeff do those things. Smiling at him out of the corner of her eyes, giggling when he turns to look at her too. Would she hold his hand over the gear-stick, letting her hand be moved along with his?

“Why are you smiling like that?” Vincent says, entirely too close to Jeff for his liking, making him jolt in place — just slightly. “Weirdo.”

Jeff frowns, looking down at his younger brother to find him giving him a look. Jeff knows that look, he’s seen it on his shithead brother’s face entirely too often. He’s thinking he knows something, is jumping to conclusions, is being a know it all. And if his brothers start talking about how he’s lovesick, has a crush, a girlfriend — it’s all over. He won’t hear the end of it. So he deflects.

“Nothing you need to worry about Vinnie,” Jeff replies, ruffling his brothers hair — because he knows he hates it. “Grown up stuff.”

“You’re not a grown up!” Vincent exclaims indignantly, just as predicted, as they both get into Jeff’s unlocked car. It’s all too easy. A good distraction. “You’re still in high school!”

“I’m closer than you, squirt,” Jeff retorts easily, buckling his seatbelt and starting the engine. Drives off to the sounds of his brothers ranting, and thoughts of Chrissy.

Tag List@goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr

Part Four | Part Five

[oc3anic-ang3l]

“nice argument, unfortunately…”

Annabeth: *types up an actual argument*

Frank: I disagree

Piper: ur wrong + ratio

Nico: i’m inside your walls

Percy: i fucked your mom last night

Leo: IP. 173. 16. 39. 103 N: 62. 1387 W: 51. 2426 DMZ: 72. 85. 375. 92. DNS: 8. 8. 8. 8

Jason: *blocked*

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

imagine eddie is the lead singer of corroded coffin but his natural singing voice is naturally like josh kiszka's from greta van fleet

it hurts his throat a lot to try and sing in the loud, hoarse, raspy screams he feels like he should be, being a metal band and all, so one of the nights at the hideout he's like "Okay, this is kinda different from what we try to play, but shit's killing my throat so here's this instead."

his 'real' singing voice wakes up those 5 drunk regulars and the next week they bring more people (and so did eddie apparently, because he can see steve, robin, and nancy grinning up at him from the crowd).

the boys play one of their own scream-y more traditional metal songs, then another, then when they try to close with a cover, one of the regulars yells out "Play that highway one again!"

"…The what?"

"That shit you played last week, the one about a highway girl!"

Eddie looks around at his bandmates, who look just as confused as he feels.

"This one..?" he plays the first notes, and that one regular and a couple others whoop and holler.

"Hell yeah, play that one again!"

"Uh…yeah, sure man, you got it.." Eddie shrugs nonchalant, but damn! he wants to show off for his friends! that shit last week was a fluke, one of his own songs he was sure the other guys didn't want to play in the first place.

he glances around at his bandmates and they all look shocked but delighted at the request, so they play it again (after an unneeded apologetic look from eddie, they really like eddie's song!).

when they finish, the now 10 people in the bar cheer and hoot and holler, and when they make their way off the stage, there are a couple people who stop them with "That was really good, do you have any more like that?", "Never heard nothin' like that before, you kids got somethin' special.", and "Y'all better be back next week, 'cause I sure will be." from the patrons, and a harried, ecstatic "Dude, please tell me you have more," from Jeff.

and also something about how since that night all of steve's thoughts are consumed completely by eddie's voice because "Holy shit did you hear him, Robin??"

idk, just eddie being a songwriter that can't help but get his influences from his uncle's preference for blues and folk music when writing and then again, can't help but mix it with his love of hard/classic rock but him never using any of it or even suggesting it to the other guys because it wasn't corroded coffin's and wasn't metal but that being exactly what shoots them into stardom

[putting-eddie-munson-in-places]

Has he been in the Rocky Horror Picture Show castle yet?

so is he a guest of frank n furter, or did he wander in from the rain?

[its-a-show-stoppin-number]

Me looking at the grumpy, “I hate everyone in the world except for you” character, the “asshole turned lovable himbo” character, the “hot dad who genuinely loves and cares for his kid” character, and the villain/character with VERY questionable morals:

[kausstar]

let's read and get so high we can't recognize the real world around us !

❥ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒 (in order) ★ slashers. stranger things. the peaky blinders. criminal minds. euphoria. the punisher ˎˊ˗

smut, angst and fluff included.

˚₊⊹ 20/20 VISION ✧ ethan landry. ── @echnated !

[ sfw ] okokok! reader x lalala! ethan.

loved the concept, writing and the fic.

˚₊⊹ CLASSMATE CHARLIE WALKER ✧ charlie walker. ── @lithiumfae !

[ sfw - bit of spice ] obsession.

the obsession with her voice is literally everything to me because my voice is rather… man like.

˚₊⊹ DAMN, BOY! SLOW DOWN! ✧ thomas hewitt. ── @vampiremillk !

[ nsfw ] chubby black reader. breeding kink. overstimulation.

i just love pussydrunk! thomas :))

˚₊⊹ SOUTHERN STYLE CREAMPIE ✧ thomas hewitt. ── @/vampiremillk !

[ nsfw ] female chubby reader. breeding kink.

mwahhhh. the whole thing at my legs shaking.

˚₊⊹ NO.1 AUNTIE ✧ steve harrington. ── @erin-bo-berin !

[ sfw ] single mom! reader. steve x single mom! reader. robin x single mom! reader (platonic).

i can literally imagine robin being the funniest auntie alive and i love this.

˚₊⊹ DEVILISHLY HANDSOME MAN ✧ thomas shelby. ── @toomanyfandomsallatonce !

[ sfw ] lots of flirting. kinda dirty flirting. eating.

the flirting throughout had me kicking my feet in the air.

˚₊⊹ EAT YOU OUT- I MEAN ✧ spencer reid. ── @ddejavvu !

[ sfw - bit of spice ] spencer being a complete reck.

the post should say it for its self. just beautiful.

˚₊⊹ HOT WIFE ✧ spencer reid. ── @radiant-reid !

[ sfw ] hot wife! reader x spencer reid.

them sliding it under the table is EVERYTHING that i never knew i needed.

˚₊⊹ MESS OF MINE ✧ aaron hotchner. ── @hotchgirlsummer !

[ sfw ] female! bimbo! reader.

the cutest of this fic makes me wanna just die. i am in love with him. i believe it was written by gods.

˚₊⊹ DO YOU LIKE HER ✧ elliot. ── @eunoiathewriter !

[ sfw ] talks of smoking weed and drugs (duh, it’s euphoria).

i just loved it. thank you for writing this.

˚₊⊹ SHOW ME LOVE ✧ frank castle. ── @captainmarvels !

[ sfw - angst-ish ] insecurities.

so fluffy and adorable i would blush if i could…

TO WRITERS ! thank you for being here and for your wonderful writing. your writing is not only people of color friendly but also beautiful, and really appreciated by everyone. i hope you have a beautiful day, because you deserve it. <33

[bleedingoptimism]

part three: Frank

There’s no backstage in The Hideout, just a small bathroom and an old beat-up couch, but there are always a few bottles of water and Frank is incredibly thankful for that as he chugs one after the show.

The rest of the band is already up the front saying hi to everyone but Frank needed a moment, couldn’t really keep looking at Eddie sucking face with some random girl.

He can’t stop thinking about the look on Steve’s face as he walked away before the last song. And of course, he has no right to be mad at Eddie, technically he didn’t do anything wrong… Technically.

But he’s a little mad, he actually quite likes Steve. He always shows up at rehearsals with homemade food and constantly praises and encourages them about the band. He’s just a nice dude, so excuse him for being excited when he realized something might be going on between him and Eddie. He wanted them to be happy together, he thought they could be, that they deserved it.

But apparently, Eddie needs to get his head out of his ass for that to happen.

He goes back to his friends and thankfully Eddie is alone now, “What happened with whatsherface?” He asks.

“Pricilla? Told her I wanted to spend time with my friends, but she didn’t take it very well” Eddie smiles at him amused, “Told me to go fuck myself”

“Good for her” he murmurs and Eddie frowns but doesn’t comment on it, instead he looks around and groans, “Man I can’t believe Steve left without saying hi, what an asshole. Next time he shows up for rehearsal I’m not going to let him in.” He jokes.

Iit doesn’t land well.

Jeff snorts and Gareth cringes, “I don’t think he’ll show up for rehearsal dude.”

“What? Why?” Eddie asks him confused and Frank can’t help it, he laughs.

“There’s no way you are this dense man, seriously?”

“Excuse me?” Eddie growls but Frank doesn’t back down,

“Eddie, you flirted with him for months, asked him out to see you, and then stuck your tongue down someone else's throat in front of him! Of course, he’s not going to show up again!”

Eddie bleaches and his frown deepens “What are you talking about?! That’s not wha- Steve doesn’t care abo- And since when are you so close to him, uh?! What, he’s your friend now and I'm not?”

They are screaming at each other now and people around them are staring, and Frank actually fucking hates fighting, so he takes a deep breath and puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, smiles wearily at him,

“Eddie of course you are my friend but, you introduced us to this beautiful person, who is funny and nice, who brings us delicious homemade cookies and makes sure we stay hydrated… Who congratulates us when we get a riff right no matter how many times we got it wrong before and you expected us not to befriend him too?”

Eddie visibly slackens, all fight going out of him. He looks at Gareth and Jeff who just kind of nod at him but then Eddie’s eyes go huge and he looks at Frank scared, “Shit, Frank do you have a crush on Steve?”

“No, you dumb fuck! You do!” Great, now he’s back at screaming.

Gareth laughs and holds his hands up trying to apace them, “He knows he does Franky” he says.

“Well, then why the fuck did he kiss that girl then?” It’s Jeff who asks, who has been very quiet until now.

“Stop talking like I'm not her-” Eddie starts but Gareth interrupts him,

“Because he didn’t know Steve liked him back” he answers looking at Jeff but grabbing Eddie’s shoulder and squeezing it just a little too hard.

Eddie flinches and looks at all of them, trying to confirm what they all seem to know for sure, “I… fucked up didn’t I?” 

“Oh yeah,” They all answer at the same time.

part one

part two

part three (you are here!)

part four

part five

☕🥐💕 cafecito?

[rageagainsttheapathy]

Okay. So. I’ve seen a few fics and posts about Eddie being in a production the Rocky Horror Picture Show and Steve stumbling across it and having a sexual awakening, which, fantastic showstopping incredible BUT

What if we had the opposite.

Picture: baby gay ally Steve with his new lesbian BFF Robin who he wants to be supportive for, so he decides that the best thing for him to do is obviously to drive her up to Indianapolis to find a her gay club and potentially a girlfriend so that she can enjoy all the same things that he does! It’s only logical. It doesn’t quite work out that way of course because although she’s excited, Robin is also nervous and kind of overwhelmed, BUT they do meet a lovely group of Elder Gays™️ who take one look at this Disaster Pair of Obvious Babies and decide that These Are Their Children now.

Steve and Robin both learn a lot from these new adoptive gay parents of theirs, from Safe Sex With Any Gender to How to Find Other Gays Without Attracting Attention to No, There’s More Than Just Gay Or Straight, Yes Really, We Promise. One of the aforementioned things is gay media, including the cult classic RHPS, and what do you know, There’s a Showing On Tonight, Let’s All Go It’ll Be Fun.

They go. And Steve LOVES it. It’s weird as fuck and he doesn’t follow half of the plot, but neither does anyone else it seems like because of just how weird it is, and the songs are all super catchy and screaming the words ‘asshole!’ And ‘slut!’ At the stage is weirdly cathartic for him.

Now. This wouldn’t lead to much of anything, except that Steve watches the movie so much on nights when he can’t sleep without waking up screaming from nightmares that he accidentally memorises all of the songs, and THEN, one night when he and Robin are having a Gay Night On The Town, he gets kind of hammered and ends up doing Karaoke on stage with a drag queen to Touch-a touch-a touch me. And he’s good. Very good, in fact, enough that he’s approached by a local theatre worker who just so happened to be in the club that night, who mentions that auditions for a new production of RHPS are being held soon, you’ve got real talent kid, why don’t you go for it?

And Steve isn’t going to, but he’s in desperate need of a hobby, and Robin is stood next to him chanting DO IT DO IT DO IT FOR MEEEEEEE, and you know what? Their lives are already So Goddamn Weird. So off he goes, and whaddaya know, ladies and gentlemen, you are looking at the brand spanking new Dr Frank-n-furter!

Enter Eddie, stage left.

Now with part two!

Additional stobin interlude scene!

Part Three/Four!

[thelovelylolly]

valentines special!

happy february everyone! in honor of valentines day, i'll be taking lovey dovey requests all month! i've listed some prompts below if you'd like to use those, or you can send in your ideas :)

request guidelines are here, and prompts are below the cut <3

“wait, don’t pull away…not yet.”

“you look really in cute in that sweater.”

“god, you always make me blush so damn much.”

“first second I saw you and I couldn’t get over how beautiful you were.”

“could you hold my hand?”

“I really love holding you, darling.”

“aw, you’re blushing.”

“wow, I didn’t think you could make me smile this much.”

“you don’t need to leave so soon.”

“I can’t pretend anymore.”

“I’ve loved you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you.”

“it’s you. it’s always been you.”

“there isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I was made to love you.”

“I can’t bare to be away from you.”

“you’re all I can think about.”

“I am so very in love with you.”

“you are breathtaking.”

“you’re being all cute and sweet, it’s making me want to kiss you.”

“you look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight.”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

“I think I love you.”

“it’s okay. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I don’t like them, I like you.”

“it’s always been you.”

“can you picture it? you and I together?”

“will you just…hold me? please?”

“I am so proud of you.”

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

“shut up and kiss me.”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I can’t stay away from you.”

“I feel strange when you’re around.”

“I’m better when I’m with you.”

*prompts are from various posts on pintrest

[its-djotime]

give me all the fics pls pls pls pls pls pls 🙏

[all-or-nothing-baby]

let's pour one out for the fallen blorbos.

those blorbos you still think of often, who can still make you smile fondly, but have taken a background position in your fandom life; those blorbos you might have dusty ol'sideblogs for that you keep even tho you know may never post there again; those blorbos who have broken both legs when falling tragically into near-obscurity in the void dimension of your brain where temporary hyperfixation goes to die; those blorbos you onced loved, and will always love, just in a softer, quieter kind of way...

this one's for you, old friend.

[momotonescreaming]

Teenage Dream - Part 6

AKA - the Jeff and Eddie have crushes on jocks series Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Chrissy had waved him goodbye as they exited the library, a cute wiggle of her fingers as they went their separate ways down the hall. It was almost embarrassing how much it put Jeff in a good mood. How lighter he felt, giddy and happy, and trying not to smile in the halls. It made the rest of the day easier, go by faster. And Jeff sure as hell wasn’t complaining. She took his day and lifted it up, just by the virtue of being in it.

The rest of the day passed in a rush of classes, and of teachers, and of notes and a drifting mind. Drifting to band, and Hellfire, and Chrissy. To guitar chords and crooned words. To strawberry ponytails and matching scrunchies. And next thing he knew the bell was ringing.

Time for band practice. Corroded Coffin tried their best to get together and practice once a week, every week. It was a good excuse to hang out at first, when they were all building their friendships. Talk shit, talk music, riff off each other. Then they got their gig at The Hideout, and practice became a lot more serious.

Granted, they only played to a handful of drunks, but it was a start! It was invigorating, being on the stage, feeling the heat of the shitty lights, the sound of their music coming out the amps, the energy that flowed through them.

Jeff didn’t quite know how he was going to focus on it all tonight. This has been the first practice since her. Since she sat with him and they had an actual conversation, at least. If he finds himself recommending they start playing love songs, he’s going to put his head through one of Gareth’s drums.

He was walking through the halls in a daze, trying to leave the building without colliding into someone in the veritable flood of students all leaving at the same time. Bag strap clutched tightly in his hand, shoulders tight as he weaves past a row of jocks trying their best to take up the entire width of the hall. A voice shakes him out of his reverie.

“Hey Jeff,” Frank greets with a nod of his head, walking in tandem with Jeff as they finally, finally, leave Hawkins High for the day. “You heading to Gareth’s?”

“Gotta do the school run first,” He says with a grimace, slowly heading to the car park, Frank by his side. “Mom’s at work and Dad can’t pick my brothers up. So I’ll drop them home first. Why’d you ask?”

“Mind giving me a ride?” Frank asks, brows gently furrowed as he asks.

“Yeah no worries man. As long as you don’t mind tagging along as I deliver shithead one and two home.”

Frank snorts. “It beats the bus, and Eddie drives like an animal.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Jeff jokes, tilting his head and smiling to Frank, braces bared. Eddie knows they think he drives like a maniac — they’ve all told him as such — but it hasn’t done shit to make him drive like a normal person. Eddie’s the one to drive them to their gigs at The Hideout — he’s got the van, it’s the biggest — and it’s a fucking ordeal every time.

Jeff collects his brothers, both of them only complaining the whole time that Frank’s claimed the front seat and taken control of the stereo. Had put in one of Jeff’s Black Sabbath cassettes to his delight, and his brothers dismay. They had groaned in unison the second the music started, so naturally Jeff turned the volume up. Him and Frank, head-banging the whole way home. Singing louder and louder to smother the sounds of his complaining brothers. His car, his music.

It was fun. Had helped him get more into the zone, the right mindset for practice. Left him breathless and laughing, volume cranked up high.

He had dropped his brothers home, picked up his guitar, and then it was just him and Frank in the car. Frank holding Jeff’s guitar in between his knees, making sure it doesn’t slip and damage anything. Making sure it doesn’t get damaged. It’s precious. It’s his. He had saved up for it, had asked for money for his birthday and Christmas, picked a day there was a big sale on at their local music store when he bought it.

It’s not Eddie’s sweetheart, but it’s fucking good kit if he says so himself.

They were making the drive to Gareth’s, and things were good. But Frank was giving him looks from across the centre console. Now that they were alone, without the annoying constant presence of his brothers — he had the room to do so. Frank was the ‘silent but deadly’ type. Was content to sit back and listen, wasn’t pressed to make a comment if he didn’t have to. But it also meant the guy was scarily good at picking up on things. Reading in between the lines.

Things you weren’t sure you wanted to be picked up on.

“Jeff,” Frank starts, voice only just loud enough to be heard over the music pounding out of the car stereo. There was something in his voice, his tone, something pondering. Knowing. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Oh fuck, he does know something. Whether he knows the specificity of the something is another thing entirely. So does the fact that he’s not sure if he wants to tell or not. Open this can of worms, release the hounds.

He focuses his gaze on the road ahead of him, on the chipped asphalt and the feel of the steering wheel under the palms of his hands. On Frank’s calm, steady gaze on the side of his head.

Frank wouldn’t be mean about it. Wouldn’t be unnecessarily rude, or cruel. Jeff wouldn’t befriend anyone like that, and Frank wouldn’t be that sort of person.

Maybe he doesn’t have to tell him it’s Chrissy specifically. Maybe he can just say he’s got a crush. Developed feelings. It’s just taking up a lot of space in his mind right now. It might be nice, to tell someone else. Ease the pressure. Lessen the burden. Maybe it won’t be so bad, if more than just Eddie knows Jeff is falling hopelessly.

But before he can say anything, before Jeff can even open his mouth — he’s pulling up at Gareth’s house. Drove the entire way without thinking about it. Completely on auto-pilot. He pulls to the kerb, parks the car, and turns to look at Frank. Gives him a small smile.

“I know.”

Frank just nods, and Jeff lets himself sigh a little. Guess they’re tabling this discussion for another time.

Eddie’s van is parked a little ways up the road — at an angle, tail end sticking into the road. Frank snorts as he sees it, exiting the car and shutting the door behind him. “Very glad I didn’t catch a ride with him now.”

Walking up to Gareth’s open garage, guitar in hand, Jeff sees Eddie and Gareth standing in the middle, an amp on the floor between them. Right in front of Gareth’s drum kit, unplugged, decidedly not where it should be.

Gareth’s kit was in the centre, right underneath the handmade Corroded Coffin banner they had strung across the back of the garage. It looked sick as hell, and thankfully Gareth’s parents were cool enough to leave it there. Jeff’s parents would never. Him wanting to learn the guitar was fine, great even. A creative outlet. His mother was less impressed when it evolved into metal music. And an electric guitar. It was louder.

She conceded it was fine when he told he he could plug his headphones into the amp, listen to it that way so he wouldn’t bother the family. No way in hell was she going to let him host band practice though.

Eddie lived in a trailer, and Frank’s place only had an open carport, not a closed in Garage. For a while at the start there they all thought they were shit out of luck.

Thankfully, they had Gareth. Who’s parents were fine with the metal, the band, the DnD. Who were just on the edge of rich that their garage was mostly sound proof. That they could shred as loud as they wanted and it wasn’t a problem (not until the neighbours complained, of course).

“I’m just saying, dude” Eddie exclaims, waving his hands around as he speaks. Rings catching the light, wallet chain lightly jingling at his side. “If we put an amp on either side of your drums, it’ll look sick as hell.”

“It’ll also blow my eardrums out,” Gareth retorted, that familiar scowl on his face, gesturing to his head, and then over at the wall. “Plus, all the outlets are over there, y’know, where we usually plug the amps in?”

“Where’s your vision Gare-Bear!” Eddie says, almost hopping in place. “Your sense of drama! Theatre! Performance!”

“Not here in my parents garage!”

“Jeff, Frankie-Baby,” Eddie adds, whipping around to address them as they approach. Hands clapsed together in front of him like he’s pleading.  “Tell Gareth he’s wrong.”

“I mean,” Jeff starts, dragging out the word as he thinks. Runs his tongue over his braces.  “Where are the outlets in The Hideout? What’s the point in moving them here, if they’re just gonna be somewhere different on stage?”

“See!” Gareth exclaims, before shoving the amp in Eddie’s direction. “We should just leave them off to the side as normal.”

“We are used to them over there,” Jeff adds, not sure if he’s helping anyone.

Eddie moves towards Frank, almost shuffling as his feet scoot across the concrete floor. Hands still clasped together. “Franklin, back me up.”

If the ground were softer Jeff thinks Eddie would be on his knees, really hamming it up, looking up at Frank like he was praying to an uncaring god.

“I think we should hurry up and start practising,” He eventually says, holding back a smile as Eddie groans. “Gareth, you still have my bass?”

Gareth nods, leading Frank over to the back of the garage with the pile of stuff they haven’t moved or organised yet. Jeff snorts as he looks over at Eddie to find him pouting. “Come on drama queen, lets plug this in.”

They get everything set up — still in the same layout they always use, despite Eddie’s complaints — Eddie and Jeff moving the amps into place and untangling the cables. Plugging in their guitars, Frank’s bass, as Gareth fidgeted and fussed with his kit. Adjusting his seat, moving a cymbal over, getting the pedals into position.

“We start same as always?” Frank asks, absently fidgeting and tuning his bass. Plucking strings, eyes flicking between it and the guys.

“Well,” Eddie teases, smiling and tilting his head.

“Do not start, oh my god,” Gareth replies, gathering up his drumsticks.

Practice continues as normal, playing covers, practising riffs, showing off for each other. Talking about original songs, snacking, invading Gareth’s mom’s kitchen for cans of coke. Well, mostly normal, if not for the looks Eddie is giving him from across the garage. Eyes wide, trying to gesture with his eyes, his head. Like’s he’s asking a question, inquiring, all without saying the words.

And Jeff knows exactly what Eddie is asking about. It’s what he’s always asking Jeff about these days — Chrissy. About their meeting in free period, about her sitting with him willingly. About Eddie’s unofficial bet about her being there again. About how he said he’d tell Jeff I told you so at practice. And ah fuck, Eddie’s trying to cash in. He tries to give him a look back from across the garage, saying not now, and also fuck off, you were right. Chrissy was there in free period, had remembered his name and sat with him again.

It felt like the start of a friendship, almost. The start of something new. Like kindergartners sitting together at the playground and declaring they were friends right then, right there.

But why did he have to do this now, where Frank and Gareth were there, watching, not knowing what they were trying to communicate. Gareth peering over his drum kit with his familiar scowl, brows furrowed and mouth tight. Fucking suspicious bastard.

He didn’t look at Frank. He knew he’d see that look on his face again. That he had figured out exactly what they were trying to talk about. He knew, but Gareth didn’t. And Gareth was going to be the tough one to crack, he was feisty, a real spitfire. Held on tight. Clutching onto that metal head title, the culture, the community.

“What the fuck are you two looking like that for,” he says, as one of their songs are winding down.

“Nothing,” Jeff deflects, letting go of his guitar, letting it hang from the strap across his chest. “Just Eddie being Eddie.”

“Oh et tu, Jeffus?” Eddie replies, feigning betrayal, but they can all see him smiling. “You’d betray me right here, in front of god and satan and everyone?”

“You started it,” he says with a shrug, tone light as Frank snorts back a laugh.

Eddie makes a noise of indignation, really starting to play it up now, as everyone watches him. He turns to Gareth, his hand on his heart, and bow his head. “It’s a guitarist thing, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh you can fuck right off then,” Gareth retorts, threatening to throw a drum stick over at Eddie. “Go eat shit somewhere else.”

“Maybe I will,” Eddie laughs, slowly backing out of the garage, watching as the cable extends between his guitar and the amp. “I don’t need you. Me and Jeff will go start a two man band, really kill it out there.”

“Don’t drag me into this!” Jeff says, laughing as Eddie continues to slowly shuffle his way out of the garage.

“Oh you’ve been dragged,” Eddie laughs, sweeping a hand out to the side. “You signed up for this, as my bestest friend in the whole wide world — and as my fellow guitarist.”

“What would you name your two man band?” Frank asks, successfully deflecting. Jeff feels himself sigh, the air leave his lungs. The tightness unfold its way out of his body. “And don’t say Corroded Coffin.”

Tag List: @goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr @panicatthediaz @m-owo-n @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaosgremlinmunson @thespaceantwhowrites @perseus-notjackson @eyesofshinigami @hotluncheddie @novacorpsrecruit @nburkhardt @pansexuality-activated @silentiumdelirium @steaddie-on @steddie-as-they-go @redfreckledwolf @lavender248 @actualwakingnightmare @queenie-ofthe-void @a-little-unsteddie

[bumblebi713]

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