Reading Fics Is All Fun And Games Until You Realize You Just Read The Equivalent Of Three Books

Fanfiction Giveaway!

We did it! Today, I woke up with 502 followers on Tumblr!

Again, thank you to everyone who has ever liked, reblogged, commented on, and generally interacted with my content. 500 may not seem like a lot to some, but it's way more than I ever thought I'd have when I started this blog.

With that in mind, the giveaway parameters are under the cut!

How to Enter and What You Win

The winner will receive at least 2,000 words of Stranger Things fanfiction written by me based on whatever prompt they send me.

To enter, make sure you are following me and reblog this post with the tags #DreamerGiveaway and your favorite trope (ie. #friends to lovers or #Hurt/Comfort or even #AntiTropes). The trope tags won't have anything to do with who wins or what kind of fic I write, I'm just curious.

The giveaway will close in two weeks and the winner will be announced and contacted on Saturday, February 15th.

What I Will and Won't Write

This is a steddie blog, but I'm open to writing any of the following ships if that suits your fancy. This is a giveaway! It's supposed to be for you! (steddie, platonic stobin, buckingham, ronance, harringrove, stonathan, vickey x robin, or gen)

I am happy to write something completely new based on your prompt but if you would like to use this opportunity to ask me to expand on an older post I am happy to do that as well.

I will contact the winner with a short list of things to include in their prompt to make sure I get all the details I need to start writing.

For this giveaway, I will not be writing smut or anything deaddove. While I may be open to that in the future I am not at a place in my writing where I can write those things well. It would be a disaster for me and a disappointment for you. Maybe someday I'll spread my freak wings on this blog, but it won't be today 😅

And once again for good measure, THANK YOU!

a drawing from one of my absolute favs <3

(if u all know if the writer is on tumblr PLEASE tag them!!)

Steve gets a phone call from Eddie one afternoon. . .

Eddie: So, what are you wearing, big boy?

Steve unfortunately thought Eddie was messing with him, so he decided to mess with him back. Steve rolled his eyes.

Steve: *scoffs* Your vest and nothing else, of course.

There was a long silence and then. . .THUD.

Steve: Eddie?

There was a sound of someone else's feet, and then he heard Wayne's voice in the distance.

Wayne: You damn near broke your new Garfield phone. What are you doing on the floor, and why is your nose bleeding?

Another pause, and Steve heard Eddie speak.

Eddie: Steve. . .vest. . .nothing.

Oops, he accidentally broke Eddie. Steve smirked.

'you still listen to music from 10 years ago 🤨?' bitch if prehistoric humans had audio recording technology id be sat up here listening to grog and unga bunga's greatest hits don't play with me

Footsteps pad down the hallway as Steve and Eddie make their way to their bedroom at an honestly irresponsible hour given that they both have work in the morning. Yawning, talking quietly. They get ready for bed one at a time in their small bathroom, Eddie settling under the covers with a book while Steve finishes brushing his teeth.

There's a smile in Eddie's voice when he speaks, the words muffled to outsiders by the rustling of sheets as Steve climbs into bed. Whatever it is, it makes Steve laugh, which makes Eddie laugh too. They fall in and out of bouts of talking and giggling, the only two people in the world - or at least it must feel that way, alone together at such an absurd time of night, in the familiar comfort and quiet of their shared bed and shared home.

They don't know that their teenage daughter is still awake in the room next door, listening to their laughter floating through their house's thin walls. She smiles to herself in the dark, warmed by the simple and genuine joy in that sound.

They don't know that this is far from the first time she's heard them laughing together in private. They don't know that she's absorbed every smile they've given each other, every kiss and kindness and warm conversation she's ever witnessed them exchange, and with every one she has learned what love looks like. She may make a whole dramatic show of gagging or pulling a face at some of her dads' displays of affection for each other (she is Eddie Munson's daughter after all), but they don't know how much she actually appreciates the fact that her parents are still so happily in love, that after nearly 30 years together they still genuinely enjoy being around each other. Their relationship began long before her and the love they have for each other continues still not because of her or in spite of her but simply alongside the love they have for her in equal measure.

There is so much love in this house, of that she has never had any doubt. She loves her dads, her dads love her, and her dads love each other, and those are facts, fundamental truths that have been shaped into the very foundation of her bones as she's grown up. No argument or mistake or disagreement has ever been - or will ever be - enough to waver that. Even in moments of anger there has always been love, unquestionably. They don't know just how deeply she knows that. They don't know just how much she values that.

Sleepy and sentimental, she thinks of friends she knows who have grown up in broken homes and are drawn to broken relationships, and she feels so incredibly grateful for the happy childhood Steve and Eddie have given her and the example they've set of such a healthy, loving relationship for her to look up to. They don't know that she knows how lucky she is to have them.

One day I'll tell them, she thinks as she rolls over onto her side and lets her body grow heavy with sleep. One day I'll thank them for teaching me what love is.

If there is something that Eddie Munson deeply hates about Steve Harrington is the irrevocable fact that he always wins whenever they play Uno cards.

Every.

Single.

Time.

It has been like that for years, and it riles him up like no other thing. Well, yes, Eddie is a sour loser, mainly because he is not used to lose at playing games. He is good at almost everything, but playing Uno with Steve? He always goes down in the most humiliating way.

The worst part is that Steve isn't even cocky about it, or rubbing his victory in Eddie's face, he just looks at Eddie. Stares, really. He stares, and Eddie knows his expression means "why do you even bother, man?" He just knows. It makes him so mad. Especially when he sees the shadow of a smirk forming in Steve's lips, or when Steve slowly rises one of his eyebrows as he wins for the fourth time in a row.

And when that happens, Eddie always storms out of the room, mumbling shit about it being a stupid game.

Which is really fortunate, to be honest. That way, Steve can calmly sit up and gather the bunch of cards he had been hiding under his thighs for the past forty five minutes.

Steddie vibes

my steddie pinterest mood board

platonic!stobin and what if: steve died in s3 and became a ghost to haunt robbie (and eddie can sometimes see n hear him too)

To The Ground

A steddie murder comic 🖤 by @2jihiir0

The steddie comic I’ve been working on is finally complete and I can finally post it here! 🖤✨🖤 I told myself I’d only post it on tumblr once it was finished, as an incentive to keep going. And it worked!!! It’s finished, and I’m so happy with it !!! 🥰

Making this comic was a journey. This was the first time I’ve worked on something this big and I learned a lot. I’m no comic expert by any means. The page flow is messy, there’s almost zero paneling, and no consistency on the speech bubbles. But you know what - I had fun ✨✨✨✨

I hope you like it 🖤 enjoy these dark and twisted murder boyfriends! 🔪🔥

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Eddie really is just that nice and friendly, but Steve is convinced that Eddie is flirting with him. He’s flirting back, less confident and more subtle than he usually would, but he’s never liked a guy that way.

Not in a way that made him really want to spend every waking moment just hearing them ramble. Not in way that made Steve want to keep him the way he wants to keep Eddie. Everything is so new. It feels, delicate. Precious.

His heartbeat quickens each time Eddie leans into his space and it’s been happening all the time now that Steve worries he’ll develop a heart condition if he doesn’t deal with it soon. When Eddie laughs and leans his face closer to his own, looks into Steve’s eyes through those lashes in a way that Steve can’t help but take a quick glance at those lips curled is mischief.

He’s always so happy to see Steve, wasting no time in bouncing his way to greet him and pull him into the conversation with an arm slung around his shoulder. Then there’s the moments of shared glances when someone says something particularly astounding. And how Eddie will make his way into Steve’s space when they sit together, throwing his feet in his lap or leaning into his side.

Sure, Eddie is friendly but not to this extent. Not with everyone else. Steve feels it. Knows it. That electricity between them that makes this thing between them different. Special.

But one day (another that Steve spends trying to work up the courage to do something), they’re in the city shopping for music in an alternative store that’s tucked away. Steve is talking to Eddie, giddy and happy because it just them today, and Eddie is nodding along while he browses through the tapes and then,

Eddie looks up and stills, eyes widening just a bit. And Steve is still rambling along, but he can tell his words are just going through one ear and out the other. He trails of caught in the middle of his story because he’s never seen this look on Eddie face.

Eddie’s mouth is slightly agape, eyes alight caught in wonder and soft as he looks at something across the room and when Steve turns to see what caught his eye—

A guy stands a couple tables away looking at some vinyl and shyly smiling at Eddie in small glances. He’s a bit taller than them, dressed in black with a couple of piercings decorating his face, the sides of his head shaved short. Attractive, dementor coy and kind.

His heart skips a beat again, but it feels different this time.

Steve looks back at Eddie whose cheeks are slightly dusted in pink.

“Eddie-“

Eddie takes his lower lip between his teeth before smiling back at the guy and continuing without casting a second glance at Steve, “yeah, uh, give me a second, okay?” And he’s crossing the room without waiting for a response.

His chest. It feels…

Like those few seconds before plummeting down a rollercoaster… when your way up high, at the very top, the moment still with the anticipation of the fall, and there’s nowhere else to look but down.

You finally plummet and caught in the whiplash thinking you must have left your heart back at the top.

There’s static there on the bottoms of his feet and at the palm of his hands. The world goes a bit distant as he watches them.

Eddie’s leaning against the wall with a sultry smile adorning whatever sweet words he’s speaking.

Steve’s drowning in the honey, it’s palpable. doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that he can’t hear the words.

Eddie’s fiddling with a curl that’s draped over his shoulder, pulling it slightly over his face like a young school girl.

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie appear anything but confident and loud; the image of the person in front of him is foreign, strange.

Eddie’s speaking to him but his eyes are locked on the guy’s lips that are wet from the tongue that peaks to briefly lick them as he listens.

Eddie’s shoe is nudging the guys own, as he talks, playful.

Oh.

Oh.

Mouth dry, Steve’s throat clicks.

It’s hard to swallow.