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baddiewiththebook ¡ 18 days
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Guys, I’m alive.
I’m writing again and I think you’re going to love this one.
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 1 month
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While I was clearing my drafts, I may have accidentally deleted two parts to One of Them.
Whoops.
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 1 month
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To all Readers who are patient enough to gently support and wait for writers who take weeks and months to post new updates to their fics:
I want you to know, that your grace and patience will serve you well in life, not to mention all the good karma you are collecting for your generosity.
Also I have asked God for a special place in heaven for people like you and He said YES, OF COURSE.
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 2 months
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To my readers,
Little Hopper is now private, so that I may continue working on the piece. I should have parts edited and completed weekly (fingers crossed).
Part 1 and 2 are back up!
Enjoy!
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 2 months
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I can’t seem to find part 2 of little hopper I loved part 1 and really want to read the rest 😭
Part 2 will be back out tomorrow! I’m editing the entire piece. I’m sorry for the delay, and I appreciate you for reading and for I’m happy to hear you’re enjoying the piece! 🫶
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 2 months
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An update to my lovely readers, I’ve paused my creative efforts on One of Them for the moment so I can pay close attention to updating Little Hopper.
I hope you understand.
Much love!
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 2 months
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my dream as a fanfic writer is to write a story which people want to talk to me about and send asks about afterwards and discuss things the characters did and the symbolism and meanings behind certain lines and I'll be all "hehe thanks" but irl I'll be in literal tears because I wrote something that means something to someone
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 2 months
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writing a fix-it-fic, before stranger things 5 hurts my heart.
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 3 months
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To my followers,
I'm sorry for the lack of posting.
I fear a gray gloom has taken over my life, and I'm just trying to get myself through the day. But, I find my passion once again! Hopefully, my uploads come quicker and more on schedule than they have been.
I'm grateful for your patience with me.
Much love,
baddiewithabook
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 3 months
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ONE OF THEM [PART 4]
-> Dating your best friend Eddie Munson might have been pictured differently in your head. Despite a blissful weekend, you’re met with a few bumps in the road; and, your friends slowly figure out that what you're doing in private crosses the boundaries between friend and lover.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, secret relationship, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive scenes [no smut]
[Part 4] [Part 5 - Coming Soon]
This is a sequel to One of the Boys
-> <-
“Do you think he has plans for that asparagus, or does he just need a friend?” Eddie’s head is tilted just to the right, while he studies the man across the aisles.
You plop five plump potato’s into a plastic sack provided by the grocery store, and hum a soft tune to yourself. Ignoring Eddie, you take the sack and drop it down onto the metal scale to imagine the price point.
When you move, however, Eddie is frozen in time. His eyes move past the displays of fresh lemons and limes, and over the apples and pears. A man is scratching his finger over the Saran Wrap tucking a set of asparagus in a tight film. Peering through Coke bottle glasses, he pouts his bottom lip and then puts the produce back.
“You’ve been watching him for a while?” You try to sound less irritated than you are. Shopping with Eddie got easier once you asked him to push the cart. In a way, this tethered him to you because he kept his hands busy and off of the shelves where he insisted on touching everything.
Eddie doesn’t mean any harm, after all he is just looking. Suppose he looks for a bit too long and he’s a bit distracted, then you’ll correct him with a sour sort of ‘come on, Eddie,’ like his uncle Wayne does sometimes. But, his uncle never buys fresh potatoes. Eddie has got no idea what you’ll do with those. When you told him you wanted to make dinner for him tonight, he thought the box of mashed potatoes was fine enough and the steaks in the back of the freezer had only been there a few months - or a year. Who can tell the difference?
You surely can.
When you suggested that he come with you to go to the grocery store, he saw the glee on your face. He can’t say no to you.
There’s something soft about the way you’re touching everything on purpose. You studied those potatoes like the man did with his asparagus, but when you got a little pouty, Eddie’s heart fluttered in his chest.
You’ve got one hand on the cart, so to him you feel connected even if you’re not holding onto each other. Guiding him in the right direction down the isle, he'll never get lost as long as you're there with him.
Eddie is damn near snoozing by the end of the laundry list of grocery items. There is only six, but that's six too many. You offer to buy him something sweet in exchange for his patience with you.
“Did you want to go to the little bakery? They’ve probably got chocolate cake or cookies,” you wiggle at the end of the cart.
Eddie straightens his back at this.
“Sure, but no chocolate,” he shakes his head. “I don’t like that stuff.”
“You don’t like chocolate,” you’re more taken aback than he imagined you might be. “But, what about the chocolate cake I made you for your birthday two years ago, and the cupcakes I made for your birthday this year! You said they were the best. I even kept the recipe!”
“Sweetheart,” he catches up to you, so he can wrap an arm around your shoulders. “How could I possibly tell you that I didn’t like chocolate when you’d spend all day baking for me? Hm? I really did appreciate the gesture. You know- among the thick layers of goo- oof!”
You’ve elbowed him in the side. Rightfully so! Smiling into the case of donuts, you make a beeline for the grinning worker behind the counter.
“Can I get a loaf of- erm, that one,” you’re not sure how to pronounce the name.
Eddie’s gone when you spin around with your bread loaf. Eyeing the treats, he aims for a small cherry pie. He pulls his hand back and shakes his head. Your boyfriend flicks his hair behind his ears because as much as he likes his hair, he does get hot sometimes. Boyfriend.
Eddie Munson is your boyfriend.
Have you said that out loud yet?
“The bread,” you announce like he’s memorized dinner plans.
Eddie shocks you, “steak next, right?”
Aisles of produce pass you by like time ticking on a clock. You’ve gotten everything on your list by now that Eddie clutches in your hand. Time wastes on because you don’t want to go home quite yet. You’re in control of the cart, and Eddie’s bounding between aisles to show you something ‘cool’ he’s found.
The cart slowly is taken over by snacks you haven’t planned to spend money on, but you do anyway because Eddie’s joy means more to you than a dollar.
Eddie pops a rope candy in his mouth, while you organize the cashier belt in line.
“Don’t forget the bags,” Eddie pulls some plastic bags from the bottom of the cart that you keep in your house. You reuse them as long as possible, and Eddie finds this endearing.
“Thanks,” you put them in the front of the groceries already stacked on the belt.
Eddie tosses a wrapped piece of chocolate onto the belt you hadn’t seen him grab from the shelves.
“I thought of you,” he taps the wrapper, before the belt sweeps the sweet away. “It’s got caramel. Your favorite, right?”
"It is," you sigh completely defeated that he knows more about you than you about him.
"My favorite is cherry," he swings the licorice in the air.
“Sir,” the cashier’s lips thin. “You’re paying for that, right?”
Eddie’s chewed through the whole package of candy by now, and humorously he’d like to imply that he’s not. But with you in mind, he hands the woman the wrapper without fuss. You wrap onto his arm like a child, and he places another kiss to the top of your head.
You’re paying for the grocery run today, but Eddie promises that the next time you’re shopping together that he will pay. The conversation floats past your ears because you’re just thrilled there will come a next time.
The van is waiting for you in the parking lot, where Eddie tosses you the keys to unlock the doors. He’s busy rummaging through the back trying not to rattle his band equipment, but he does use the inside of the drums to steady the dozen eggs.
“Are you buckled?” Eddie climbs into the drivers side.
You’re set in the passenger seat with the chocolate that Eddie bought for you. Using his thumb, he swipes at your chin where you’ve smeared melted chocolate on by accident.
“I’m buckled,” you tighten the seatbelt. “Do you want a bite?”
“No, but could you hand me the hamburger back there?”
You scrunch your nose. “How long has that been there?”
“Eh.. like a couple days?”
“Eddie!”
Laughter fills the corners of the van like a harmonious song. Well tuned - perfectly pitched.
-> <-
Eddie is an awful cook.
Finding your attention drawn onto the sharp knife in your hand, slicing potatoes into chunks, you’re not watching Eddie scrambling behind you. He’s got two spoons in his hands, but he scratches his head at what for. It isn’t until you’re gasping at the blackened smoke coming from the stove.
Flipping the carrots around in the pan, Eddie’s apologizing over and over. You reassure that the carrots still could be edible, but judging by the blackened bottoms, you both know well-enough to toss them.
You’re putting the potatoes into the hot water, only burning the tips of your fingers.
Eddie’s in control - er, sort of - cutting up new carrots. Following along what you did earlier, you bite your tongue at the massive pinches of black pepper and salt he’s added. Tablespoon or teaspoon? He’s got no clue!
“I’ll keep an eye out this time,” he holds a staring contest with the searing hot pan that’s still a bit too hot for the carrots.
You turn the burner down, and flick the carrots around until the smoke clears. Eddie groans, and takes over because he doesn’t like being micromanaged. It’s all in good fun, though. He does find being in the kitchen with you quite homey.
Homey.
Eddie’s never had that feeling before. Last time he’s felt at home, no offense to Wayne, was when his mom found him hidden in the cupboards of their little house. Sure, life wasn’t perfect for the Munsons, but his mom always kept the court dates and the legal shit out of his eye the best she could.
When she died, a part of Eddie had too. He misses the warm hugs and kisses, the way she lets him lick the spoon when she makes cookies from the tube.
But, alas, if his life was perfect then he wouldn’t be here with you. Eddie finds himself feeling pretty perfect anyway because you’re there. You’re humming a tune to yourself, as you twist the timer to twenty minutes. Old and barely alive, the timer clicks on like a mighty oak.
“Twenty minutes until the potatoes are done,” you swirl around to Eddie. He knows the sigh coming from your mouth is less about the exhaustion from cooking, as it is dealing with him in the kitchen. “What should we do while we wait?”
Eddie places his hands on your cheeks, and brings you into his chest. Chest to chest. Heart to heart. Beating rhythms of your hearts pump between you two. You’ve got your ear to his breast imagining what’s dancing around in there.
Unintentionally, Eddie flicks the backing of your bra. A flame ignites inside you. Did he notice? Did he mean too?
Are you even prepared if the night falls that way?
You’re a bundle of nerves knowing that when that moment drops, and the both of you find yourself even closer than you are now that nothing could be the same. Going back isn’t an option. Swirling stars cloud your vision, as your breathing slows.
Eddie hums when your grip on his back loosens. He sways with you, while you’re drifting farther into your head.
Skies of warm orange and cotton candy coated pinks cloud your eye. Touching a garden of soft spring flowers. Ridges of the stone bridge. A kiss is pressed onto your forehead like a dew drop, raising you from your state of hypnosis.
“You still with me?” Eddie’s voice vibrates through your ears.
“Hm,” you hum. “Should we sit down?”
Eddie guides you to the couch where you’ll stay drifting into your own world with a blanket draped over your lap. You attempt to join him in the kitchen when the timer goes off, but Eddie raises his index finger and says,
“Don’t you dare.”
Then, your boyfriend wrestles with the oven to get the roast from it’s hot cage and plops too much butter into the mash. He winces when he puts the spoon to his lip, and tries to fend off your worry by telling you that the food is just hot.
Eddie sits next to you with two plates of food - one in each hand. He waits a moment for you to sit back up after sinking into the aged sofa, then lands the warm plate in your lap.
You’ve got no idea what you’re watching on the television, but right beside you is all the entertainment you need. Laughing heartily at Eddie’s cross expression, he sticks out his tongue at the well-done carrots.
“Don’t eat them,” he reaches for a glass of water. “They’re really awful.”
You nibble at the end of a carrot, and suck down your outward terror at how salty the vegetable is.
“It’s not that bad.”
They are indeed that bad.
Worse - even.
“You’re cute, but a terrible liar,” he pinches your shoulder.
-> <-
tags: @stardustingold @loves0phelia @ogoc-19 @hellfirenacht @blackholegladiator @alligator-person @eggo-segual @rustboxstarr @harmfulb1tch
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 3 months
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ONE OF THEM [PART 3]
-> Dating your best friend Eddie Munson might have been pictured differently in your head. Despite a blissful weekend, you’re met with a few bumps in the road; and, your friends slowly figure out that what you're doing in private crosses the boundaries between friend and lover.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, secret relationship, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive scenes [no smut]
[Part 3] [Part 4]
This is a sequel to One of the Boys
-> <-
“This is a thing,” Robin nudges you in the side as you walk side by side down the bustling school hallway. “You’re not just fooling around, are you?”
She hasn’t let you and Eddie leave her mind all morning. Hell, you've been dreaming about him for years, and now you're - you're what? Robin has been pressing for an answer all morning.
“Robin,” you stop in front of the cafeteria. “Are you going to be able to keep this quiet?”
“For you,” she says. “Anything. But, tell me?”
You sigh. “Eddie and I kissed on Friday. He took me out on Saturday, and on Sunday he took me out to sight see.”
“See what?” Robin suggests.
“We haven’t done that yet.”
“You’ve crossed some lines though, right?” She pries at your locked lip.
Robin catches you, as you stumble back a few feet. Twisting around, Jason’s got a smug smirk decorating that ugly mug of his.
“You��re in my way,” he says plainly.
You huff out some lame retort like, “you don’t own the halls.”
“I heard,” his steaming breath hits your face when his eyes level with yours. “Roxie’s looking for you.”
“Why?” You ask dumbly.
Jason licks his lips and says, “Well, you know how rumors start. I heard that you were giving the freak a handy in the parking lot.”
Another rumor swirling in the hallways like a disease. It never ends in this school. Yet, your stomach drops in your butt.
“Oh,” he tuts. “And where would she get such a story like that? Here’s the thing toots, I’d never hit a woman. I guess that means I got to find someone who will.”
“Eat shit,” Robin shoves him away from you.
Jason balls his fists at his sides until his knuckles appear white. Not backing down, Robin argues her way into getting him to leave both of you alone. Swearing and snarling, Jason tucks his tail between his legs and falls back to searching for his posse. They’re nothing without each other.
Staring into the stucco before you, you count the ridges of each uneven piece. You’re familiarizing yourself with the texture since that’s where your head will be on display, as a warning to Roxie’s future foes.
Robin drags you along with a, “Come on.”
As of recently, you’ve been sitting with Robin at her table of misfits at lunchtime. No one minds having you around, especially since the band is about in equal status as the ‘Hellfire Club’ table that you’re usually apart of. At least they’ll get a decent picture in the year book, and they won’t be completely doodled over.
Your belly growls, and Robin passes on half of a sandwich to you.
“‘Pretty sure it’s Steve’s lunch,” she senses your apprehension. “Just don’t tell Steve I failed that quiz this morning.”
“Deal,” you dig your hands into the soggy bread.
Steve and Robin - they’re friends or something of the like. You’ve never understood their dynamic, but maybe that’s because of the situation that you and Eddie find yourselves in. Someone always ends up falling for someone in the end, don’t they?”
“What’s the deal with you and Steve?” You ask the age old question.
Robin pulls a piece of lettuce from between the crushed buns. Before giving you somewhat of an answer, she cocks her head at an angle that suggests you’ve asked one too many times.
“We’re friends,” she blinks lazily at you.
“He looks like a nice guy,” you push.
She flings the soggy lettuce back into the bag it came from, “if he’s so nice, then why don’t you date him?”
TouchĂŠ.
The chatter becomes everyday. Robin asks if you’re swinging by Family Video later, also implying that you might be too busy with other extra curricular activities. No, Eddie is scoring himself time to practice with his band after school today. You’re invited to watch, but you’re keeping your distance still. He’s hurt you won’t come, but he tries not to let on despite the gloomy puppy dog eyes.
Soon enough, Eddie swings into the cafeteria like a monkey on a vine. His friends welcome him with a round of ‘hoo-rah!’ and various shouts that disrupt the average conversation. You’re staring for too long when Tommy Paterson begins making kissing faces with his thin chapped lips. He receives his outstanding award - a high five from Jason across the table.
“Ignore them,” Robin says to you.
You sink down into your seat in hopes to become invisible then. Their fake love spell turns into mocking snickers.
They’re a bunch of Neanderthals with no sense of self worth or the world around them. Surely, they’d combust if Jason didn’t drag them around by a leash. Especially, Tommy who breathed the same air as Jason did.
You’re thrown into orbit. Roxie’s palm slams into the lunchroom table. Here she is. There you are. And, now you’re sentenced to death. You’re sure.
Daring to look the executioner in the eye, Roxie has a softer glint about her than you’re used too. She’s toying with a silver chain around her neck coupled with a ‘R’ pendent.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I’m sorry.”
What?!
“Okay,” you’re petrified that if you blink then she’ll take one of those sharp finger nails and poke you right in the eye.
Roxie commands the attention of the entire lunchroom. People bend to her. So, even when she aims herself at Robin, Robin does shimmy away at the thought of being sat upon.
“Some of my girlfriends and I are getting together for a sleepover on Friday night,” she explains as Robin weasels her way in to pinch the edges of the paper wrapping her sandwich came in and nudges it closer to her. Roxie ignores this, and continues. “You should come!”
“Er,” you’re hoping to spend Friday with Eddie because he’s got a date planned.
“Listen,” she grabs your hand in hers. “I got the wrong message from Eddie. Maybe I did want something more, and he didn’t. So, what? Right?”
“Right,” you’re in a loop of one word answers, and you’re still afraid you might blow the lid to this teapot and suddenly boiling water is burning your skin.
“You can come too, Robin,” she suggests, while Robin is mid-bite into her sandwich. Her cheeks are swollen like a chipmunk.
You want to bow out, but with the second half of your brain stuffed with bread and cheese (Robin is about to choke herself trying to swallow the sandwich in time to rescue you), you’re stuck trembling at the girl like she’s got the gun to your head. There has to be a catch. She’s going to superglue your eyes shut when you fall asleep! Tie you to a train! Or, use her secret connections with the Russian government to send you to the moon!
You’re sure one of those three is right.
“If it was any other night, I’d love to go,” you babble trying to buy time to search the files in your brain for an excuse. “But, I’ve got to-,”
“We’re doing a horror movie marathon,” Robin says through the last swallow. “Mhm- lot’s of gore and monsters.”
“Actually, that’s perfect,” Roxie claps. “Why don’t you come over with your favorites? I’m sure the girls wouldn’t mind getting spooked.”
“Of course they wouldn’t,” you mutter to yourself.
Roxie doesn’t hear this, and instead awaits for your answer that you simply cannot refuse.
“Friday,” you confirm.
She claps. “Seven o’clock! See you there!”
Raven hair swings like a waterfall. She floats and flutters away until she happens across a group of loners in need of their leader. That’s how Roxie works after all. She kept herself busy with as many people as possible. Somehow you’re roped in as well.
“We cannot go,” you tell Robin.
She shrugs. “Could be fun.”
“Could be fun?” You tug at the ends of your hair. A habit you picked up as a child, and never quite grew out of. “She’s planning something.”
“What’s the worst that Roxie could do?”
“I don’t know,” your tone is laced in sarcasm. “Steak me with a kitchen knife!”
“Too many witnesses,” Robin assures. “Even if she does, at least it’ll be on theme.”
Right.
“Horror movies?!” You scoff. “She screwed Eddie. You think she’s not into horror flicks?!”
“What would you have said?”
“I-,” good question. “That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” Robin asks you directly. “The way I see this is that maybe she is trying to make peace.”
Maybe Robin is right. You’re far too paranoid for your own good sometimes. Actually, you prefer the term cautious to paranoid. Roxie acts emotionally sometimes, but the people she hangs around tend to be harmless. But, then again, the cheerleaders love her, and they hate Eddie equally if not more. They could wring out what they want to know like a court of law, and sign your death penalty.
Again, you’re cautious.
“I’ll go,” you decide. “But, only if you come with me.”
Robin doesn’t take a minute to think about it. She wouldn’t send her friend into the lions den without a sword to protect you. Not that Robin is great defense, but she’ll be there chewed up and spit out with you.
You catch Eddie’s eye across the cafeteria. Curious. Full of wonder.
Eddie’s gone out in space wondering what your conversation with Roxie was about. Earlier, she crept up on him like a black widow. She apologized for throwing her shoes at him. This sort of apology from a girl like her only meant that she was screwing Jason in passing again. Yeah, Carver is a douche. Eddie feels some guilt towards his girlfriend, Chrissy, who is the only person that doesn’t know or perhaps doesn’t acknowledge her partner’s lack of faith in their relationship.
“Munson,” Gareth snaps his fingers in his friend’s face.
Gareth is taken aback when Eddie hums softly instead of getting that piercing eye stare that glosses over when anyone interrupts his thinking. Don’t get him twisted, Eddie’s great - he’s just intense.
Dustin catches this too, “you feeling okay, man?”
“I’m great,” Eddie picks between the peas and carrots on the food tray in front of him. “What’s up?”
“Can we reschedule the campaign to next Friday? I have a project in English that’s due on Monday,” Dustin tests Eddie’s patience. He knows how vital Eddie’s campaigns are.
“Sure, man,” you‘ve thrown your wrappers away in the trash. “I’ll see you guys later.”
In Eddie’s daydream, he doesn’t catch onto the strange looks coming from his friends. He’s taken step after step following after you. You’re headed to the library where he always catches you in your free time. Fond memories of him picking books out from the shelves, and asking if you’ve read them yet. Yet. Because he knows you will read them, he reads them ahead of you so that you’ll have something to talk about. Even if they’re complicated, and Eddie can’t pronounce all of the words, he treats what you and he had like a silly little book club. You’ll teach him all of the metaphors, and the hidden messages that he’s missing.
You’re dropping your backpack on an empty table in the library when a pair of strong hands snake across your waist and warming your belly.
“Eddie,” your cut off by his lips pressing against yours when you turn around. Mumbling his name again, Eddie pulls away.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look in that outfit, today?” He catches the fabric of your old t-shirt.
“I was running late,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“No,” his fingers find their way under the back of your shirt and resting at the base of your spine. “I mean it. You look really sexy.”
How long would it take for you to get used to him calling you sexy? Judging by the weakness in your bones today is not the day.
“Eddie,” you warn. “We’re in a public school library. Do you want to get us in trouble?”
“Oh, but it would be so worth it,” he breathes hot against your mouth, then kisses along your cheek softly and onto the lobe of your ear.
At least the spot you’ve chosen is far away enough from the front desk, where Mrs. Brown can’t see you being fondled dangerously close to crossing every boundary and breaking every rule.
“Eddie,” you say more seriously. “Eddie.”
“I do love hearing my name coming from those pretty little lips,” he backs off. “So, what’s got you in the library today?”
“Ah,” you pluck your textbook from your backpack. “Studying.”
He groans.
“You should try it sometime,” you tease.
“Har-har,” he pulls out the chair next to you. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” you would pull a million dollars out of thin air for him with those puppy dog eyes he pulls.
“What was Roxie talking to you about?” He wonders.
“Oh,” you snort. “Get this. She wants me to come to a sleepover.”
“A sleepover?” Eddie’s as astonished as you are. “What for?”
“Girls night,” you organize your papers, and your books. “She even apologized to me.”
“Apologized?” He’s as bad as a parrot. Shock reads clear across his alabaster skin.
“Robin’s coming too,” you skim the next part over like ripping a band-aid off. “It’s at seven on Friday.”
“Wait,” he shimmies himself out of shock. “I was going to take you out on Friday. We could go bowling.”
“Bowling,” your face screws.
“Or- not-,”
“No!” You fix a smile together. “Bowling sounds great, but I wonder if we could put it off? This might be a really good opportunity to smooth things over with Roxie.”
“Oh, God.”
“Don’t worry,” you giggle at the thought. “There’s nothing she knows about you that I don’t- erm-.”
You’re blushing. Eyes wide open. ‘Got you rethinking about what you and Robin were discussing earlier. Hot and heavy as your relationship is, you haven’t gotten there yet.
Taking your hand in his, Eddie strokes along the lines of your palm. He doesn’t want to disappoint you. Or, maybe there’s a looming fear that if the relationship ends that you and he will become even closer friends. If the two of you- when the two of you cross that bridge, you’ll be somewhere new. No map. No directions. You’ll trust the road to be smooth.
“We can reschedule bowling,” Eddie half jokes just to press the conversation along.
“Bowling,” you snort.
What other things does he have planned?
-> <-
tags: @stardustingold @loves0phelia @ogoc-19 @hellfirenacht @blackholegladiator @alligator-person @eggo-segual @rustboxstarr @harmfulb1tch
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 3 months
Text
Hello,
I know I’ve been absent, but I swear I have another part of One of Them completed. I’m just aiming for a direction the series will go in, before I post.
Sorry for the long pause, lovies!
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 3 months
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Hello, my angels!
I’m still working on One of Them, but I hit a snag in my creative process. It’s taking a bit longer to write my next chapter because I’ve got the ‘I’m a horrible writer’ bug.
But, I took a semi break and I read some really beautiful and well written pieces here on Tumblr. I was able to refocus myself, and take pointers from them.
Since I have food poisoning and I have been sent to bed by my partner, I’ll be doing extra writing for you all.
See you soon!
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 4 months
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I read every single one. I promise.
how i feel when someone reblogs my stuff with a really really nice tag
Tumblr media Tumblr media
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 4 months
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I just had a mini panic attack because Part 2 didn't want to post, and eventually it disappeared into the void.
It's back.
I need a nap.
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 4 months
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ONE OF THEM [PART 2]
-> Dating your best friend Eddie Munson might have been pictured differently in your head. Despite a blissful weekend, you’re met with a few bumps in the road; and, your friends slowly figure out that what you're doing in private crosses the boundaries between friend and lover.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, secret relationship, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive scenes [no smut]
[Part 2] [Part 3]
This is a sequel to One of the Boys
-> <-
"Five minutes," Steve counts on his watch. "I swear I'm leaving her."
Adjusting the itchy Family Video vest against his chest, Steve has had enough patience with Robin. He slams his fist into the horn on his car hoping the entire neighborhood wakes up. Maybe they could riot to her front door to get her out of bed.
Steve twists the dial to his radio. Seriously, where is this girl? Every morning at seven o'clock, Steve stops by her house to give her a ride to school. And, every morning the same routine plays like a horribly tuned piano. Well, today's the day, Steve puts his foot to the gas pedal.
"She can walk to school," hand on the gear shift, Steve readies to peel off the curb and zip down the street. But, he doesn't.
No, Steve is far too gentle of a soul to leave his friend out on the edge of a cliff like that. Allowing a puff of hot hair to escape, he rests back in the drivers seat and takes his foot away from the pedal. Maybe knocking some sense into his head would do the trick. He bends forward onto the steering wheel. The horn beeps, and deafens him.
Robin yanks open the car door. "Good morning, sunshine!"
"Next time-" Steve says lifting his head.
"'Next time, I'm leaving you!'" Robin slots into the passenger side, and buckles herself into the car. "Anything new with you?"
Steve doesn't like to believe that he's gotten so predictable. In fact, all driving around Robin to school and the the endless amount of freshman that need rides to go to and from their stupid after school club, Steve contemplates asking for compensation. But, again, he's not that guy.
"What took you so long?" He asks.
Robin scoffs. "I was in the bathroom. What? You want me running out here with my pants down leaving a trail behind me? I don't think so."
"Thank you for that visual, Robin," Steve winces.
Sure, she's running a few fifteen minutes late, but doesn't everyone have at least one bad day - or a week - or month - or year?
Robin sat straight up in her bed that morning with a pile of drool next to her on her pillow. Hair stuck straight out on one side of her head like it was trying to escape her. Yes, she could hear every horn honk that came from Steve Harrington's car, and no she did not make it her mission to torture him every morning by being late.
Her power went out. Or, maybe she slept through her alarm. Potayto; potahto. Either way, she smudges on a bit more blush from her compact in her bag, she's in the car now right?
"Did you eat breakfast?" Steve already know's she'll say 'no.' "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know. And, don't you have a test in first period? Shouldn't you be focusing on that instead of . . . what is that pink stuff?”
"It's blush, Steven," She teases. "You sound like my dad."
"Ha ha," he quips back. "Backseat."
Robin stretches around to see a brown paper bag soaking in it's own juices. He's stopped at the diner, before he came to pick her up. Sure that might have been his lunch for later in his shift, but he would rather not have his friend pass out while trying to recite the alphabet or whatever they teach these days.
"Stevie!" Robin pouts her lip.
"Shut up," he jokes.
Their relationship is platonic, although Robin did have to wave off Steve’s crush on her. She’s not into him, nor is she into any other man she’s ever come across. As a friend, however, Steve has turned into one of her closest. She relies on him, especially with him withholding her biggest secret. She’s very gay.
On the way to school, Hawkins is still all the same gray town. Cool weather blows winds through the streets freezing them all like icicles. Snow this year is said to be minimal, but freezing temperatures suggest otherwise.
Pulling into the parking lot of his old high-school, Steve hits his breaks sending Robin sliding forward. She clutches her bag, and adds a screwed look upon her face.
“My bad,” Steve doesn’t sound very apologetic. But, nonetheless, they’re friends and he has to pull her leg when she pulls his.
Robin springs from the car with her backpack in her hand, and her breakfast sack hanging out of her mouth. She muffles something along the lines of ‘thank you’ lost in translation behind the paper bag.
You wouldn’t know from the outside looking in, but Robin is quite apprehensive about school. There’s only so many crowds, and so many people that she can manage at one time. That’s usually why she’s on the hunt for someone she knows so bright and early - to defend her of the rampaging school children.
For example, Jason Carver is one of the biggest a-hole’s in the school. But, people still praise him like a King. That was Steve once, so she tries not to be too harsh when she judges him. But, he’s not making the best case for himself when he’s threatening a freshman boy for flunking Jason's homework. Jason’s minions are given the order to toss him into the dumpster, and Robin has the smarts to look away.
Robin swings open the double doors to be smacked in the face with the thick musk of high school air. She’s a bit late, so she thought that maybe people had begun flocking to class. Wrong. She dodges some kid parading around with an easel with the legs sticking out, so at least no one would bump into him.
There’s a window of opportunity for her to swing into her home room, and chow down on her breakfast before Mrs. Brown doesn’t scold her for not sharing with the rest of the class. She’s got about ten minutes until the bell rings, and Mrs. Brown is no where to be seen. She’s probably got her head over the copier grinding the gears a little too hard to give out weeks worth of homework due tomorrow. That’s her favorite.
As Robin sits in her usual spot, she opens the greasy bag in front of her. Bundled under a pile of trash from Steven’s breakfast burrito, she does find herself a single sandwich. Ham and Swiss cheese with far too many thick slabs of tomato for her liking. She lets the tomato slide off in a pile of sad gooey slime, and then places the bread back on top of the sandwich to complete it.
“I’ll see you later,” the usual conversation between classmates bores Robin, but the sound of your voice piques her interest.
“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” Eddie’s words draw out low and deep.
You’re giggling now, and Robin tilts her head to the open door. Without checking for other occupants, you swing Eddie into your shared home room to plant a various amount of wet kisses to his lips.
Frozen in time, Robin sits like a statue. She knows she’s not supposed to witness the exchange. Especially by Eddie overlooking his shoulder a number of times, before running off down the other hallway. You chase after him, but only to learn into the hallway to watch him run off.
You’re completely smitten.
Robins never known you to be this unaware. There’s a time and a half that she’s readied you for dates, but she’s never seen that shine in your eye, the flush on your cheeks or the floating just above the ground where the rest of us are.
How she skirted past being caught by you or Eddie is mind blowing. But, you’re in a ‘love bubble’ that’s impenetrable.
Robin grabs a thick needle, and jabs at the edges until the bubble bursts as you sit down. Forgetting the sandwich, and the painful growls from her stomach, Robin now twists in her seat making the chair moan.
“Good morning, Robin,” you’ve got cupids arrow in your ass. “When did you get here?”
“I don’t know,” her sarcasm is drooling from her mouth now. “Sometime before you and Eddie started making out at the door.”
Your stomach flips, and your face drops down back to earth. “Uh, oh.”
Robins bounces. “When did that happen?”
“Last Friday, after school,” you blurt as the bell rings. “Listen Robin, you can’t tell anyone what you saw. Please? We’re just trying to keep a low profile for a while.”
The classroom begins to fill, while you’re still silently begging for your friend to keep her mouth shut for once in her life. Robin’s the worst at keeping secrets!
And, Robin does go through the list of who she’ll blab too first. She could tell Steve because he would just reply ‘Who?’ and get all squinty. Or, she could tell Dustin, who’s really close to Eddie. That’s a fair trade.
That’s when Robin notices the gray plume of smoke floating into the classroom. A haze of green and gold glitter spiral into the archway. Suddenly, the mask drops to the tile floor. And what’s left?
Roxie Martin.
Robin might have a bit of an imagination, but what is very real is the absolute terror stricken fear written across your face. She’s a ball of evil with a bat hidden in her bra - probably.
Yeah, Robin thinks that she’ll keep quiet for a while.
“Good morning, class,” Mrs. Brown zips into the classroom with a years worth of paper stacked in her grip. “Roxie, please find your seat. And, unless you have enough to share with the rest of the class, put away your food, Robin.”
Robin’s stomach growls.
-> <-
tags: @stardustingold @loves0phelia @ogoc-19 @hellfirenacht @blackholegladiator @alligator-person @eggo-segual @rustboxstarr @harmfulb1tch
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baddiewiththebook ¡ 4 months
Text
Plane and Simple has been deleted.
I lost motivation - and the plot.
Perhaps a different day, I'll revisit the idea.
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