Rabbit Hole

Rabbit Hole

God, never Google when Season 5 of Stranger Things is coming out. I just wanted the release date, clicked on a link, then another… and suddenly there was fan art… and now I’m on page seven of AO3, deep in Steve/Eddie. Have you seen how long their fics are? What even is this? I have never seen a fandom so collectively committed to the idea that writing anything under 10k words is for the weak.

God, now I desperately want to write something for them, but I know if my fic is under the unspoken yet sacred threshold, I’ll be exiled from the fandom. God.

Bless this fandom. Seriously. You guys are amazing.

More Posts from Samsoble and Others

2 months ago

So, tattoo shop AUs are really popping off lately and personally I love it. What’s more romantic than bleeding for art? Nothing!

But as someone married to a tattoo artist, I have been experiencing some mild She Wouldn’t Say That regarding tattoo culture. So here’s a few quick tips that may help inform your AU. With a grain of salt for my mostly-second-hand knowledge:

NO ONE REPUTABLE SHOP WILL TATTOO A DRUNK PERSON. EVER. or even a person they suspect of any kind of inebriation. This is not just for Regret reasons, but also because alcohol is a blood thinner. If someone is on an acute dose of blood thinners, you generally do not want to stab them dozens of times per second.

Maybe this is regional, but in my experience most tattoo places don’t call themselves parlors anymore. It has a kind of seedy vibe. I see shop or studio a lot but rarely parlor.

Most tattoo artists are hot, yes, but none are as hot at my wife

Tattooing janks up your hands. Sometimes in a RSI way but definitely in a changing-gloves-every-five-minutes-fucks-up-your-skin way.

Artists themselves are rarely if ever employees of the shop. They will be independent contractors who pay the shop either a cut of their sales or rent on their station like a hair dresser. They are also (usually) responsible for taking care of their own supplies, tools, etc. except for the stencil printer. What kind of dweeb would have their own stencil printer?

There is always a line for the stencil printer. Always.

Artists generally spend orders of magnitude more time working on art, replying to emails, doing consults, etc compared to time with their needles in skin.

A typical schedule for an artist might be: wake up at noon and guzzle half her body weight in coffee, one appointment from 1-4, and another from 6-9. Home to eat one (1) real meal at 10 pm. Drawing until 5 am. This is good for her actually and good for our marriage and she’s so healthy all the time.

An ideal shop receptionist needs to be friendly, knowledgeable, and encouraging. They also need to be willing to get out the baseball bat that is kept behind the counter.

If a shop has to choose between “good people skills” and “will promptly rebuff Nazis and the obviously inebriated” the later is often a more important consideration.

At any given moment in any given shop there’s going to be at least one apprentice or someone bumming around hoping to be taken on as an apprentice. They spawn on tic and this feature cannot be disabled.

Again I can not overstate how hot my wife is

7 months ago
@izzy2210

@izzy2210

here you go! i did them in green and black so they'd match your blog <3

@izzy2210
@izzy2210
@izzy2210
@izzy2210

requests: open please like/reblog if you use! credit is appreciated!

2 months ago

“why isn’t there any fic about (x)?” there can be a fic that is precisely about what you want to read. just start writing that fic for yourself.

“but I’m not a writer” every writer has had their first time writing. most writers start with writing something they want to read. your work doesn’t have to be perfect, because having 1 fic that is precisely about what you want to read, even if it’s not perfect, is still better than having 0 fics about what you want to read.

1 month ago
Steddie Brainrot Taking Over Me Fr
Steddie Brainrot Taking Over Me Fr

steddie brainrot taking over me fr

2 months ago

Hey did you know that Left Temporal Lobe Epilepsy is one of the most common kinds, and that it doesn't (always) cause symptoms that other people would recognize as a seizure, and that even doctors don't recognize it as seizures unless they are specialists? No tonic clonic, no major spasms, no eye rolls. Just invisible symptoms that are easy to doubt or dismiss.

Cause left TLE often manifests in stuff that looks like migraines if you don't know better, but also has a direct negative effect on language skills, reading, and vocabulary. But barely any outward sign to explain it.

So a hypothetical person could maybe receive a bunch of head trauma while defending a group of preteens and develop TLE and think they're just proving to be as stupid as everyone always said they were, and would have no reason to think it was related to the headaches, nausea, and exhaustion. So that person would just get proof, over and over again that they're worthless as they fail to remember something, as they reach for an answer or a word or a date or a fact that they were certain they knew, only to find nothing there. And when they try to explain that this is different, and that they know they have messed up words before, but that someone needs to listen, they often get told they're faking it?

Anyways. I think Steve Harrington should have my form of TLE, because it would cause him extraordinary anguish.

1 month ago

Part 1

Eddie’s propped up against the door in the backseat, warm breath fogging the window, eyes open but completely sightless. Nancy wonders what’s going through his head, if he’s figured out why Steve’s upset and Robin’s angry enough to pick a fight. 

She doesn’t think he knows that Steve’s bisexual. Clearly Robin’s constant meddling hasn’t spurred his confessions. At the very least, Eddie has to be confused about how abruptly Steve reacted. Nancy could see the helpless anguish in Eddie’s face as he watched tears shimmer in Steve’s eyes. 

The sight of a heartbroken Steve Harrington is awful to bear. It isn’t something she’d wish on anyone, let alone someone as amazing as Eddie. Now it’s just another shitty thing she and Eddie have in common, like surviving the apocalypse or having curly hair. 

She shifts her eyes sideways and finds Argyle slightly more relaxed than Eddie but still unusually quiet. It could be the high, she supposes. But she’s seen him smoke almost twice as much as he had tonight and be completely fine. She doesn’t even know him that well and the silence is still unsettling. 

They’re about five minutes into the drive when Argyle’s eyes flash to the rearview mirror. “So, Eddie, I didn’t know you and Johnny were a thing.”

“We aren’t,” Eddie startles, almost like in his brooding he forgot where he was. Nancy catches him shifting in his seat. He’s clearly uncomfortable, biting his lip as his eyes skirt back and forth between his lap and Argyle’s in the mirror.

“Sure looked like you two were pretty into each other,” Argyle says. His tone is an honest attempt at light and carefree. It lacks the signature Argyle vibrancy. 

Eddie catches her looking in the rearview mirror, faster than Nancy can avert her gaze. He huffs, nostrils flared, though his eyes are wide with anxiety. “It’s not like that,” he tries to argue back. 

Argyle scoffs. “Seemed like Johnny thought it was.”

“Well it wasn’t.”

The boys almost simultaneously cross their arms and slump back into their seats. It’s quiet until they pull up to Argyle’s new apartment. Once out of the car, he leans back inside. Big brown eyes downcast, his hair hangs loose around his face, shielding him from view of the backseat. Nancy can practically see his heart on his sleeve when he looks at her.

“Nance, let me know how he’s doing?” The question is vague enough that he could mean any of them, but Argyle’s heart is four sizes bigger than anyone she’s met. Of course he’d care about Steve even now that he’s got his own problems.

She smiles, small and sad but hopefully reassuring. “It’s a deal.” He taps the roof of the car, moving to close the door before she surprises herself by calling out to him again. “But if you need anything, you know, maybe someone to talk to–” she hesitates, scrambling for the right words. “It’s just– I know Jonathan better than anyone, other than you, obviously. So if you want to talk, you can always call me.”

Now more than ever Nancy cringes at how socially out-of-place she always feels. It sounds like she’s placing some sort of weird claim on Jonathan, implying that he’s still somehow, inarguably hers after all this time. Even after Robin. 

She quickly gathers her wits to explain herself, wishing she could just shove her tiny foot in her mouth when he cuts through her anxiety with a smile. It matches hers from only moments ago: small, sad, but hopeful. “Sounds like a deal, Big Wheels.”

Nancy chuckles at the new nickname, pulling a more genuine smile out of the both of them. She watches as steps inside before pulling out of the lot and back onto the road toward the trailer park.

Argyle’s absence somehow only makes the tension worse. Eddie stays sitting in the back, slumped forward enough that Nancy worries he’s not actually buckled in. His head is in his hands, face hidden away. 

Her and Eddie have grown close since the final battle with Vecna, just barely making it to the hospital in time to stop him from bleeding out. Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin had sat by his bedside in shifts almost every day for two weeks until he finally woke up. She’d driven him to his appointments, helped him with errands, and made an easy, detailed schedule for his medications.

They’d sat around watching shitty TV reruns. She’d smoked her first joint with him, just two of them sprawled out on the couch talking about all the shit they’d been through. Except every single time, no matter how their conversations started, they always ended with Robin and Steve. 

What started as delicate conversations turned into late night confessions. Eddie was the first person she turned to when she started questioning herself. Nancy knows she was the only person he’d told about his crush on Steve. He’d made her promise not to tell anyone– especially Robin, obviously– and she’d agreed to take it to the grave. She’s fairly sure Robin made a similar promise to Steve. Though, that didn’t stop them from constantly encouraging the boys to just talk to each other.

After what happened today, it’s painfully obvious that Steve likes Eddie just as much as Eddie likes him. Robin’s reaction to everything almost outright confirms it without Steve even having to say anything. At least, it’s obvious to most people.

“I don’t see what the big deal is– why anyone even cares.” Eddie’s words are barely discernible, mumbling into his own hands pressed against his face. He runs his hands roughly through his hair as he leans back against the seat, looking at Nancy through the mirror with wild, angry eyes. 

“I maybe get why you would be upset,” Eddie continues his rant, gesturing at her. His voice begins to rise with frustration, his movements a bit erratic– ‘worked up’ as how Wayne puts it. “You’re with Robin now, and I know you don’t feel that way about Jonathan anymore. But… It just doesn’t make sense.” 

He’s pulling at his curls, and she wants to wrap her hands in his to get him to stop. “Robin’s never been mad at anyone before, and she looked like she was trying not to hit me. She wouldn’t even let me talk to Steve, which is bullshit considering I spend just as much time with him as she does, spend just as many nights there as her. I deserve to know why he’s upset!”

She stays quiet, knowing she’ll get her moment when he runs out of fuel. He always does eventually, it’s just a matter of patience– something she’s grown a lot better at between being best friends with Eddie and dating Robin.

He slumps down into the seat, strings cut. Eddie fails to stop a stray tear from breaking loose as he tips his head back. She sighs as they finally pull up to the trailer, throwing the car in park before she fully turns around to face him. When he refuses to meet her gaze, Nancy sighs again, loud and obnoxious to get his attention. 

She puts a steadying hand on his knee and heaves herself over the center counsel, pushing herself clumsily into the back seat. Eddie yelps in surprise when her knee hits something soft, but they eventually sort themselves out. They turn to face each other, legs tangled up in the middle.

“Nance,” Eddie sighs, his quiet voice tinged with sadness, “why do I feel so shitty about a stupid kiss?”

She reaches across the seats to grab his hand, gently running her thumb across the top of his knuckles. “Do you like Jonathan?”

“Of course I do. What’s not to like?” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself it’s true, eyes scrunched and brow furrowed. She shoots him a scrutinizing glare, and he rolls his eyes in response. “Jesus Christ, Nancy, just say whatever you want to say. You look like you’re trying to kill me with your brain.”

“No, El kills people with her brain. I shoot guns.”

He chuckles nervously, trying to pull his hand away, but she grips it tighter.

She sighs and asks him again, with pointed emphasis. “Do you like like him, though?”

“Do I like like him?” Eddie mimics her, his teasing laugh strained with sarcasm. “Never thought I’d see the day where Nancy Wheeler– my actual fucking best friend, despite the odds– holds my hand and asks if I like like her ex.”

“Which ex?” Nancy shoots back, quick as a whip.

“... What?”

“Jonathan or Steve?”

“What–” Eddie tries to pull away again, and this time she lets him– “I thought we were talking about Jon?”

Nancy hums in thought. “Are we? Is this about your feelings for Jonathan?”

Before Nancy can stop him, he scoffs and throws himself out of the car. She scrambles across the seat and follows him out. His legs may be longer, but even after almost a full recovery, she’s still faster on her feet. Nancy catches him by the wrist just as he jams his key into the front door.

“Eddie, stop acting like a child and talk to me,” Nancy says. “Don’t storm off and pretend like we both don’t know why you’re upset.”

“It was just a kiss!” He rounds on her with red fury in his cheeks, tears clinging to his lashline. “It was just a stupid, fun kiss. I shouldn’t have to feel this way because someone kissed me at a party and I kissed them back. I don’t see why it’s a big deal, it’s not like it matters.”

“Seems like it mattered to Steve.” It’s about as close as she can hint without getting into trouble with Robin. Nancy knows Steve’s still playing his cards close to his chest, but she also knows sometimes it’s best to just go all in. 

Air rushes out of Eddie’s lungs, breath punched out of him as Nancy hits her proverbial target. Although she does wish she could actually punch him sometimes. Which is why it almost feels like a small triumph when she watches the poorly-obscured implication settle over him. 

Another tear breaks from its hold. He uses the back of his sleeve to wipe his face and drag it across his sniffling nose. Absolutely disgusting, but she doesn’t say anything, even though she desperately wants to offer him a tissue from her car.

“He was just upset because of the–”

“‘The shitty weed?’” Nancy finishes for him, quoting Robin’s awful excuse from earlier. “Do you mean Argyle’s personal stash?” It’s the best marijuana Nancy’s ever smoked, although that only includes Eddie’s wrinkled joints he re-discovers in random pockets and bags.

When Eddie opens his mouth, she’s already one step ahead of his ridiculous arguments. “And don’t you dare say he was upset because he’s homophobic.”

She hears the click of his teeth for how hard his jaw snaps closed. Nancy slips her hand down from his wrist and slides her fingers between his. This time when she squeezes, he squeezes back.

“He’s straight, Nance. You should know that better than anyone.” He sniffles and– to her horror– doesn’t let go of her hand when he uses the same arm to wipe his face again. God, men are animals. At least she’s never had to watch Robin pick her nose, even though the way she flosses is pretty graphic.

She sighs, throwing her arms around him in a hug, if not to get away from his snotty hands. “Seemed pretty upset for a straight best friend.” Nancy kisses him on the cheek before pulling away, making her way back down the stairs toward her car. “But you’re right, I would know better than anyone how Steve could feel right now.”

Driving home, she hopes her message landed, that maybe she’s helped and not overstepped. Especially when it comes to Steve. She can’t bear to see him heartbroken again, up close and personal in a way she selfishly distanced herself from last time. 

But she thinks, unlike the last time, Steve has a chance to be truly happy with someone who loves him more than anything in the world. The chance to be with someone who wants to take care of him, and be doted on in return. She’s finally found that in Robin, and she damn well knows Eddie’s the one for Steve. So if it means she toed the line on saying too much, then it’ll all be worth it if it’s the nudge Eddie needs to find his courage.

~~~

I always upload to Tumblr first but follow on ao3 if you prefer

Part 3 coming soon!

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3 months ago

Oh Baby

Written for the @stmarchmm prompts “omega/omega” and “pregnancy” | wc: 816 | rated: T | cw: pregnancy and birth related anxiety, vaguely implied past abusive relationship (Billy/Steve) | tags: Steddie, Omega Steve, Omega Eddie, no Upside Down, alternate meeting, pregnant Steve and birth coach Eddie, pre-relationship

———

Steve doesn’t know what he expected from a potential birth companion, but Eddie Munson isn’t it.

The man practically bounces into the consultation room, haloed by a head full of frizzy hair and carrying a haphazard stack of papers. “Hi! Steven, right? I’m Eddie.” He holds out a hand for Steve to shake.

“Just Steve, please,” he corrects. “Only my parents call me Steven.”

“Steve. Gotcha.” As he sits on the other side of the desk, he grabs a pen to note Steve’s preference in his file. “And what brings you here today, Steve?”

There’s something in Eddie’s eyes, deep brown, big and soft, that makes Steve want to tell him everything. He can’t smell him underneath the scent-blocking patches at his pulse points, only knows Eddie’s an Omega because it says so in the practice’s brochure, but Steve imagines a dark chocolate aroma that matches his eyes.

“Well, like I told the receptionist, I’m pregnant. Obviously,” he jokes, resting a hand on the gentle swell of his belly. “But it’s my first pup and I’m starting to, uh, freak out a little?”

Eddie smiles sympathetically. “What freaks you out more, the end product or the process?”

“Definitely the process. I’ve always wanted pups, I want her, it’s just… There’s a lot of painful and bloody stuff that has to happen to get her here. Steve lowers his voice, suddenly sheepish. “Which I knew in, like, an abstract sense, but it’s feeling a lot more real now that we’re past the halfway mark.”

“Totally normal,” Eddie reassures him, flipping through his intake paperwork. “Twenty-two weeks, huh? Looks like your OB is happy with how you’re doing so far. You’re not high-risk, no complications.”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, so far.”

“Any reason to think that will change?” Eddie’s brow furrows as he looks up at Steve. He’s too pretty to look so serious when Steve is just being ridiculous.

“My roommate,” he sighs. “I love her to death, but she can be…”

Eddie nods. “A little paranoid?” he guesses.

“It’s contagious, I guess. Robin tells me everything she’s read that can go wrong. Then I can’t help but worry, even when I know Baby and I are healthy.” Steve rubs his eyes, not tearful but exhausted.

“I gotcha. Sleep is already a precious commodity during pregnancy, and it probably doesn’t help that your Alpha is so nervous.”

He can’t help but laugh at that. “Robin? No, she’s just a friend. My best friend.”

Steve must be imagining the relief that crosses Eddie’s face. “So Baby’s other parent…?”

“He’s not in the picture.” He lets own scent take on the sour edge it always gets when he thinks about Billy, hoping it will keep Eddie from asking.

Eddie simply nods and makes another note. “Okay, any other birthing support besides Robin?”

“Robin actually isn’t allowed in the room because I’d probably have to kill her, so…” Steve claps his hands on his thighs. “That’s where you come in, I guess?”

“Killing Robin falls a little outside my job description, but I do try to go above and beyond for my clients.” When that gets a chuckle out of Steve, Eddie winks at him. “But seriously, that’s what I’m here for. We’ll make a birth plan, work on whatever physical or mental preparation might help, and then I’ll be there for the main event. Anything you need, ice chips, a massage, a hand to hold, someone to yell at the nurses for you, I’m your guy.”

Steve bites his lip. He feels a little better already, just knowing he has Eddie in his corner. “That sounds like exactly what I was hoping for.”

“Excellent. I aim to please.” Eddie smiles at him. “Our receptionist, Chrissy, can get you set up for weekly appointments if that works for your schedule. Do you have any questions for me before we wrap up for today?”

Several, actually, but Steve knows better than to start asking if Eddie is single or into other Omegas. Instead he clears his throat. “No, I think I’m good.”

“All right.” Eddie stands, ready to hurry to his next consultation, and Steve fights down the urge to beg him to stay. Stupid hormones. “Well, Steve, it was a pleasure to meet you. If you need anything before your next appointment, give us a call.”

Steve shakes his hand again, relishing the warmth and strength of Eddie’s grip. “Thank you. Really, this has already helped so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“Me, too. Not to mention meeting the little lady.” Eddie inclines his head in the direction of Steve’s belly. “Just not any time soon, right? Stay nice and cozy in there!” he tells the baby. “See you both next week.”

As he watches Eddie leave the room, Steve knows the flutters in his stomach are from more than just his pup kicking.

He is so screwed.

1 month ago

The angstiest masterpost

angsty.

Angsty family/platonic dialogue

Angsty question prompts #1

Angsty question prompts #2

Angsty question prompts #3

Angsty/fighting dialogue

Concerned/angsty question prompts 

Angsty starters

Angst prompts

Angsty sentence starters #1

Angsty sentence starters #2

Angsty sentence starters #3

Angsty sentence starters #4

Leaving dialogue

Reunion dialogue reactions

Unwilling goodbye + love confession prompts

Trying to make them stay dialogue

Sacrificing dialogue

Sacrificing prompts

Amnesia prompts

Amnesia dialogue

Bad luck prompts

Lover being hurt prompts

Break-up dialogue #1

Break-up dialogue #2

Unwanted attention dialogue

Unrequited love dialogue

Drama starting points

Conflict for couples #1

Conflict for couples #2

Conflict for couples #3

Betrayal dialogue

Hiding from horror dialogue

Finding out the truth dialogue

"I'm sorry…" apology starters

Saying I'm sorry…

Apologizing for emotional neglect

"I can't…"

Talking it out ideas

Keeping loved ones apart

Ending an argument

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

5 months ago

On my freaky close friends stobin shit

Robin was well aware her and Steve were closer than most friends, scarily so. They showered together when they were at her house due to her family not having a huge hot water tank like his. They slept in the same bed no matter whose house they were at, despite the fact they both slept naked due to overheating in their sleep. They had seen each other naked more times then they could count. They frequently went skinny dipping in his pool late at night. 

They were practically one person living in two separate bodies. They knew everything about each other. That included all the details of the other's sex life. They have had many conversations about what they prefer in bed, and Robin had a very vivid mental image of what Eddie Munson looked like naked, all the way down to the dick piercing, although she had never seen it firsthand. It didn't matter that Steve liked boobies. He didn't like hers.

So when she was sitting at home minding her business and got a snap from Steve along with the instruction to not open it in front of other people, she wasn't too concerned. 

Steeb: don't open that around other people

Bobin: what am i about to open??

Steeb: i just need to make sure it doesn't look weird before i send it to Eddie

Bobin: i think all dicks look weird babe. But ill look to make sure it doesn't look weidER than normal.

Steeb: hwo did you know it was a dick pic

how*

Bobin: what else would you send to eddie that im not allowed to open around other people?

Steeb: fair point

Bobin: lower the camera a little. Your dick looks short

Steeb: Thanks robbie. Ur the best

Bobin: you know we are the weirdest friends ever right? You just sent a lesbian your dick pic

Steeb: you had me grab ur boob the other day because you thought you had a lump

Bobin: i was CONCERNED

Steeb: ill text you later. eddie is calling

Bobin: take my stuffed animal off your bed. Sir franklin shouldnt witness such behavior

Steeb: on it. Love you bobbie!!

Bobin: love you stevie

5 months ago

“I don’t want to be a burden” you’re more like a relief, a gift, a blessing actually

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samsoble - A Little Bit Chaos
A Little Bit Chaos

Just stuff from my brain and the Internet.

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