Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

man idk why there is so much emphasis and fuss around saying 'i love you' in a romantic relationship like it's such a big deal. like love however you want to but like- i say 'i love you' to bugs i picked up like three seconds ago and you're worried about saying it to someone you've been with for multiple months if not more? i don't understand humans sometimes

MY GUYS i'm sorry i only post about kit but i just have so many constant thoughts about this man, ik nothing else :'))

People who get genuinely upset that other people like villains are baffling. They're fictional characters! Who have done fictional things to other fictional people! I literally don't care if you, personally, only enjoy morally virtuous characters. Whatever floats your boat. But acting like that makes you morally superior is just so, so silly.

vibing with this picrew

one of the prettiest I've found so far

Hello! I found your fantastic Picrew Hades Bond Forged icon creator many months ago and made my girlfriend one (we both LOVE hades!). She immediately used it as her pfp on everything! Suffice to say she liked it as much as I hoped she would :) Fast forward to the other day and she had decided she wanted to make a youtube channel, using the picrew pfp I used your creator to make as the avatar for her channel! She asked me if I could make a few more for different expressions and whatnot (as avatars for YT videos often have: sighs, frowns etc). I thought it would be cute and a good idea so I hunted down your generator again, in spite of me forgetting what picrew was called XD I found it and was greeted with the site's reminder to check the usage license/terms per creator thing. Foolishly, it had never occurred to me that there would be usage stuff to do with a free image generator online, though it definitely makes sense (I've never used picrew before outside of your one!). Art theft and similar stuff is a serious issue these days and I want no part of contributing to it, so I wanted to make sure everything I wanted to do was kosher. I saw you had put your contact details for questions about stream elements and I felt it necessary to ask you a few questions about how I/we may use the pfp, which is why I'm here! Only after I had sent a version of this message to your twitter had I seen you had moved to Bluesky, and I wasn't really keen on making an account for that (if its even possible with their invite only system), so I made a tumblr instead, which is why you may see this account is new. I also don't know how tumblr works with messages because apparently I could only message you after following you but also only 48h after following you? Its quite confusing, but this should also be fine I think? Either way I just have a few questions, namely: Would her use of the picture for her youtube avatar count as commercial usage for you? Would you be comfortable with us using the avatar I made with your creator and the few more I would intend on making to use for her channel? If you aren't comfortable with us using them outright like that, would you be comfortable with me using the created picture/s as reference and try drawing them on my own? Since I wanted to ask you before I get to any designing/drawing, I don't have any concrete ideas yet; but I had intended on adding a body/upper body in any case, as opposed to just a floating head, since that would be more expressive for the purposes we need them for! Naturally though, my girlfriend would be sure to credit you and/or the picrew in the description of her videos because its important to us to credit properly regardless! And finally, thank you for making such a cute hades-themed picrew maker and letting me surprise my girlfriend with something cute and faithful to the game's style! Sorry for the very very long message though haha, I just wanted to make sure everything was clear!

Sure just credit me in your bio if you use it 👍

Nano 2023 Day 1

In which the brothers have a nice chat

Hermes could fix this, he needed to fix this, he just needed to grab—

The wand. In his bag.

On the far side of his hip with a grown man’s body between his hand and the opening.

He lurched for it, but the boy kicked and flailed, nearly toppling off his back before Hermes yanked him forward, abandoning the wand idea.

“Whoa, hey,” he said, breathless. “You’re okay.”

The boy stared at him, each eye wider than a discus. “I know you.”

“Let me explain—”

“Let me go!” the boy demanded. He twisted and pulled, grasping at his brother’s skin until his own hands shifted, fingernails growing longer, sharper, before gouging into flesh, drawing out a shriek, and then—

He fell.

The cry of pain chased after him, but he looked down at the trees and rocks rushing towards him and all he could hear was the wind.

His skin peeled away strip by strip while his bones hollowed and feathers flushed into place. A new form began to take hold, crowned by orange and black feathers, rising towards freedom, until something crashed into his side, squeezed tight, and sent them both plummeting to the ground.

His half-hollow bones shattered on impact, feathers molting and scraping off as he rolled across the ground and smashed into a rock. He wheezed and rolled over to hack up the nothing in his stomach while his hands and knees screeched with pain.

A shaky hand extended towards him, but the godling flashed his fangs with a hiss, before he bent over again, choking on a wet cough.

Above him, the feather-headed messenger stood with one arm clenched across his chest and the other hanging limp and bloody at his side. Softly, he said, “Don’t look at me like that.”

The boy glared, so Hermes sucked in a breath, a little too sharply for his ribs, and carried on.

“You didn’t have to jump,” he said. “You could’ve waited.”

“You could’ve let me go,” the boy growled, still wheezing.

“I could’ve turned you into a tortoise!” Hermes snapped. “Or a stone or—”

Something snapped behind them.

Hermes spun, but an ache shot through his eye and he keeled over. Vision swimming, legs weak, he leaned against a tree and pressed his forehead to the rough bark. Then he swallowed and started over again.

“I’m trying to help,” Hermes explained as the boy looked away. “You’re in danger here.”

The boy scowled but remained silent, too busy repairing torn skin and filling out the broken, hollow bones. Legs first, he decided, calves twitching with anticipation, tense and eager, wracked with pain. Cold earth dug into his knees, hot tears drew frozen tracks down his cheek

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Hermes babbled on. “Just slow you down, make you have a civilized conversation.”

Ambivalent to the messenger’s words, to the frigid air turning his fingers blue, to the hot tears cutting tracks down his cheek, the boy huffed and struggled and shifted his weight until—

it's me, I am the dads out there white-knuckling it through life, clinging to a jar of chunky jif like it's the answer, just a buoy in the storm

Being a British X-Files fan is so weird cause it's like?? 90% of the things that happen and the settings depicted bear no relation to things that I am familiar with irl but occasionally Mulder will mention his time in Oxford and I grin like a fool and I can't help but love Fire because Phoebe Green has the same local accent as half the people in my hometown and I appreciate the hell out of Gillian for writing the Cambridgeshire crop circles plotstrand into all things and I hold onto the three second shot of the Albert Hall in London during Fight the Future like my LIFE DEPENDS ON IT

Love the new Tumblr change to my notifications because now I know which of you skanky-ass bitches ain’t still mutuals with me anymore, ya fucking hoebags.

pearl ren nd bigb ^^

THIS IS EXACTLY THEM

I am beginning to think I’m not going to return to being the redundant admin for my office and will instead stay the first admin for the other office

frantically re-reading the books before my friend borrows them - HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE WITHOUT MY COMFORT BOOKS?

I shall just have to read a shit tonne of fanfiction

it’s CHILL

sorry! i hope i didn't offend you with the girl i meant it as an endearment

oh, don't worry, i wasn't offended. no harm done.

                sidney was already petrified, really. it was bad enough that one weirdo was chasing him through the city, now there were two? finally backed into a corner, out of breath, wide blue gaze stared at his would be attacker who was, at the very least, far less intimidating than the man who behaved like a feral beast. “please...i’ll do anything, just...please don’t kill me.” sidney’s fingers were wrapped around the strap of his bookbag, heartbeat pounding terribly hard in his chest. 

@ichormartyred​ !!