urhoneycombwitch

[urhoneycombwitch]

I'm sorry to hear about Fluffle lulu </3 hope you're doing okay

thank you so much 🥺💖 it’s been roughhh won’t lie but I’m taking it a day at a time. thank fuck for therapy too 🫡

[urhoneycombwitch]

[urhoneycombwitch]

here’s the last pic I have of her. so fucking cute. she was sunning herself by our shed, legs splooted.

tw pet death.

so so sorry to be bringing you all this news. Fluffle my sweet chicken was taken by a car on Sunday.

she was so personable. so silly and loving. I feel eternally grateful for the fact that she fed me, that she trusted me, that I got to love her.

I know some of you on here also loved our Fluffle. genuinely, it brings me so much peace to know that she was loved and is thought of by you all.

we love you, Fluffle. you were a great chicken.

wanted you to see her final resting place. the egg is ceramic from her nesting box. I gathered these orange stones to match her feathers from my most favorite nature places. she’s buried on our property and I’m so grateful for a physical spot to be able to grieve her.

[urhoneycombwitch]

what’s up in Lulu world u ask… currently fashioning a poultry nesting box out of scrap for a chicken I never wanted in the first place 🥲🐓💓

[urhoneycombwitch]

Fluffle update for those interested!!

the abandoned chicken I never wanted and never knew I needed is doing great. thought she got snatched by coyotes the other night, she was missing for two days but emerged from the woods looking incredibly Normal. only after I had cried over her all morning 🙄

she’s so personable and special and lays upwards of two eggs a day which she is generously compensated for 💖💖 cucumbers and mealworms are her favorites. here’s a pic of her fave spot in the garden, her and her corn feast! 🌽🐓

[urhoneycombwitch]

tw pet death.

so so sorry to be bringing you all this news. Fluffle my sweet chicken was taken by a car on Sunday.

she was so personable. so silly and loving. I feel eternally grateful for the fact that she fed me, that she trusted me, that I got to love her.

I know some of you on here also loved our Fluffle. genuinely, it brings me so much peace to know that she was loved and is thought of by you all.

we love you, Fluffle. you were a great chicken.

wanted you to see her final resting place. the egg is ceramic from her nesting box. I gathered these orange stones to match her feathers from my most favorite nature places. she’s buried on our property and I’m so grateful for a physical spot to be able to grieve her.

[urhoneycombwitch]

i'm sorry i don't know what came inside me. came into me. came over me. sorry.

[urhoneycombwitch]

Eddie Munson would fucking hate AI generated "art" and stories and he'd yell at you across a crowded room to tell you to go fuck yourself if you make it

[urhoneycombwitch]

Don't care, didn't ask, boobs bounce when I walk

[urhoneycombwitch]

Six months. For six months Steve has been listening to this radio show and not ever one time did he expect to hear the host, Eddie Munson, growl out the words “Hawkins, Indiana," but here they are. The name said.

Steve stops the car dead in the middle of the road, can’t hear anything aside from the radio show host listing Hawkins facts in his sonorous voice.

He should have known. Like rationally, he should have considered it a possibility that Hawkins might come up on this late night talk radio show called Hellfire about monsters, cryptids, folklore. 

It’s just. He thought. Hawkins hadn’t exactly made national news, and what had was about a toxic gas leak and a government coverup, not exactly this show’s focus. 

But enough, apparently. Obviously. 

Eddie starts talking about the disappearance of Will Byers, and Steve lays his head on his steering wheel, tries to ignore the way his hands tremble. 

For six months Hellfire brought him comfort and companionship as he roams the dark street of Hawkins on what Robin calls his patrols. It’s not like he can sleep, not anymore, so what better to do than make sure everyone is safe? That there’s no signs of the Upside Down? That the gates are still closed? 

Hellfire has been his companion through it all and now—now—

Eddie’s talking about the Department of Energy, MK Ultra, a fake body in the quarry. 

He could turn it off. Or better yet, go home. But he sits in his car out by Lover’s Lake and he listens to Eddie detail the rumors and speculation. Listens to the callers who share their two cents and conspiracy theories—none close to the truth. 

The thing is. He’s become—fond of Eddie, of Hellfire. He doesn’t care about cryptids, isn’t interested in Big Foot, but he was captivated by Eddie. Not just him, though, it’s the whole thing with his producer, Gareth, and his two other best friends who pop in from time to time. They’re funny, nerdy, love that dork game the kids play. And if the low resonance of Eddie’s voice makes him a little melty? Well, that’s between him and 3am. 

Steve calls in, sometimes. Has called in. Just, you know, once a week or so. It's not like he knows anything about the monsters, but he asks questions, likes to listen to Eddie talk no matter if he understands.

They finish with a caller and Eddie says, "unfortunately, we'll probably never know what happened."

And Gareth cuts in to say, "Hawkins is only an hour a way. You know. If you find that interesting."

"What are you saying, Gar?" Eddie asks. "That we should go?" He laughs.

"Why not? We could do our own investigation. Maybe we'll find something the authorities don't want us to."

"Hmm, what do you think, listeners? Should we don our adventurer caps and head into the unknown?"

He doesn't remember putting the car into drive, but he knows he's speeding toward the little two-pump gas station on the edge of town and the deserted pay phone there.

The line beeps and beeps when he dials. He tries again and again, until finally there's a click, and Eddie's radio voice booming in his ear.

"Thank you for calling Hellfire," he laughs, manic. "You're--

"You can't go to Hawkins," he interrupts.

"Sweetheart," Eddie croons. "Haven't heard from you in a while. How are you?"

"I'm Fine. Stay out of Hawkins."

"You gotta ease into it a little, baby. Little small talk first."

"Eddie..."

"What do you know about Hawkins?"

"N--nothing. I've heard bad things about it. Cops."

"Cops," Eddie snorts. "I'm not afraid of Hawkins PD. Are you calling because you're worried for my well-being, sweetheart?"

"Yes." Steve doesn't hesitate.

"You're my favorite listener, you know that?"

"I'm being serious."

"It's cute."

"It's a really bad idea to go to Hawkins."

"Do you know what's funny? You didn't know what a chupacabra was, but you know about Hawkins."

"I--" he swallows. "Have specific interests."

Eddie laughs. "What do you know about Hawkins?"

"Nothing," too quick.

"Are you lying to me?"

"I can't say."

"You just keep getting more and more mysterious."

"Please, stay away. It's--there are things, people--you don't want their attention. Just, please. Trust me."

"I'll agree on one condition. Tell me how you know this."

"I can't," he whispers. "That's why you need to trust me."

"What's stopping you?"

He flashes back to an interrogation room, Hopper's stern face, the even sterner ones of the government agents, the four-inch high stack of papers to sign, again and again and again.

"NDAs."

Dead silence on the other line until Eddie asks, "wait, PLURAL?" excitement spikes through the speakers.

That's when Steve hears the distant click down the line, knows it isn't him or Eddie, knows--

The line goes dead.

"Fuck."

He goes straight to the cabin. It's late enough in the morning now that he's unsurprised to see the glowing ember of a cigarette near the porch steps.

"What'd you do, kid?" Hopper asks when Steve gets out of his car.

"Called into a radio show about monsters."

The chief sighs, drops his hands to his sides, muttering. The crunch of gravel way up the long drive has them both turning.

"Guess we're in for a long day." Hopper stomps out his cigarette.

---

Steve isn't allowed to listen to Hellfire anymore. Is forbidden from calling in. And he gets it, okay, he knows. He said too much on the radio, but he hopes that he didn't get Eddie in trouble, that they don't try to come to Hawkins.

He gets a late start on his patrols one night. Took the kids to the movies, caved within minutes when they begged to go for ice cream after, Robin giving him a fond eye roll when he stops.

It's late, summer sun set for hours already, and he's driving on backroads behind the lab. And it's been--it's been a few weeks, okay, since the last call, long enough that he's stopped thinking Eddie will show, so when he sees the van on the side of the road--when he sees the van he doesn't stop right away.

It's tan and white or maybe grey, old, from the 70's or something; spiky black lettering on the side. It says Hellfire.

Steve slams on the breaks so hard the tires squeal, car skidding. He parks haphazardly on the side of the road, only grabbing a flashlight before hurling himself into the woods.

He figures Eddie and the guys will be easy to find, bumbling through unfamiliar forest, but minutes pass with nothing but his own feet crushing through the underbrush. He's afraid to yell, afraid it will draw the wrong kind of attention, but he does a kind of hoarse whisper, knowing it's not enough.

There's a small rock formation that he skirts past, mind everywhere but on his surroundings. He hears a rustle, he thinks, turns, and in the space of a breath, collides with something distinctly solid, warm, and judging by the pained grunt, human.

"Fuck. Gareth?" A very familiar voice asks.

"Eddie??" He responds. His fingers scrabble for his flashlight, illuminating the leaf strewn forest floor and some nearby tree roots.

A beam of light illuminates his chest and face, forcing his eyes down. "Who are you?"Eddie demands.

Steve finally grabs his flashlight, points it at Eddie's middle. Has a second to take in his long, curly hair, his cut-off t-shirt, pale skin and the swirl of inky black tattoos. "I'm--I--I called into your show. I--I told you not to--"

"Oh," Eddie's breath hitches. "Sweetheart. You said not to come to Hawkins and then you--you--" He blinks, seems to struggle to find words. "I didn't expect you to be so beautiful."

He smiles. "i--your show, I loved it. I miss listening to you. I miss--" He takes a step, closes the distance. Eddie smiles and it grips something in his stomach, doesn't let go.

Over Eddie's shoulder, there's a flash of movement, catches in Steve's periphery. It's an unfurling, an opening, there's a shine of saliva, teeth.

His heart stops.

"Eddie--"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Run."

[urhoneycombwitch]

2 more weeks of spring semester anyone else almost dead because of it??? jesus FUCK

[urhoneycombwitch]

I love rockstar Eddie but I also love thinking about Eddie who didn’t quite make it in the industry. Mainly because he doesn’t like the circus that comes with it. Eddie who chooses to play at grimy bars and parties despite his talent. Eddie who still gets the band together in his garage when he’s finally able to buy a house. He likes the small crowds. Being able to watch the locals sing every word to his songs. Eddie who truly only cares about the music.

[urhoneycombwitch]

i love reading, i love thinking about what i am currently reading, i love thinking about what i am going to read next, i love being privileged enough to be able to read, read, read, and read so much that i never tire of it

[urhoneycombwitch]

that linecook Eddie discussion and him offering to teach had me thinking about reader making a bit of acting serious in the kitchen and pulling like a joking "get the fuck off my expo chef now!" like it's high stakes and they're really stressed out when the end product is just... ice cream sundae

you get them anon. exactly that. Eddie lives for the drama of you yelling at him to chop the peanuts FASTER or rejecting every bowl he dutifully brings bc NONE of them are right. the manic energy of a bad cook unrivaled. eating quietly and peacefully on the counter together afterwards <3 <3

[urhoneycombwitch]

okay this is deffo not what you meant when you said you're seeking inspo for cowboy Eddie but I have been fantasizing a bit about cowboy/ranch hand fucking against the barn wall, in the hay in the attic (for something that I feel is popular/a known sexy trope ie "taking a roll in the hay" surprisingly I haven't found a lot of works with that scenario), and something more sensual and romantic (but it's still fucking look it's horny week) on a picnic blanket out in the field at sunset

so hope something of that strikes your fancy!

anon thank u so much for the inspo, I'm trying to conserve my energy for longer fics right now but heyyyy did you get ahold of my outline?? how'd you know i'm planning for a schmoopy picnic in the fields at sunset???

working on part 2 of the howdy honey! series aiming for a later spring/early summer release... lots of sunny schmoop and smut to come <3

[urhoneycombwitch]

💍💍💍

I’ll bury you in rings, sweet thing 😘

the jig is up @rebelfell proposed over the weekend i can't hold the secret in anymore and guess what i said yes

[urhoneycombwitch]

im gonna put this in ur inbox for when you return to war and also it's relevant to your recent reblog so <3

thinking about convincing Eddie to wear those tight long 70s flare pants

he thinks it's silly and it's so not his style but youre like... this isn't for you! it's for me. be eye candy.

like sure the ripped black jeans and the thick belts are cool but these pants... really highlighting what you want to see. the hips, the ass, the thighs, the bulge!! skin tight but covered enough to leave something to the imagination... eyes roaming like one of those cartoons where they're popped out of your skull and scanning right against him. turn around too and those pockets are gonna have teeth marks in them

google show me images of Robert Plant lead singer of Led Zeppelin circa 1970s. excellent

Suck Him Silly Through His Denim Flares Sunday. official holiday. anon ur right about those pocket bite marks Eddie better watch the fuck out any time he turns around in those pants. bout to have a human-sized leech gripping into your ass cheek full force with TEETH