alongcomesaspider

[alongcomesaspider]

Page 76 (last)

Prev: page 75

Tumblr likes to compress things, you can get a non-shitty version of captains log on my kofi

Also you could get the diy print file and have a little booklet of it forever

[alongcomesaspider]

I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.” 

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

[alongcomesaspider]

Chainmail rules for medieval miniatures by Gary Gygax and Jeff Perren, 3rd ed printing by TSR, 1975 (first published by Don Lowry's Guidon Games in 1971), with Lowry's illustrations plus photos of early sand table games which originally used 40mm scale Elastolin and Starlux toy soldiers.

Combat in Dungeons & Dragons was developed around the d6 Chainmail rules, but the first 1974 D&D set also included an optional d20 system that became the more popular choice.

[alongcomesaspider]

a boy who tells stories about magic finally sees it in action

[alongcomesaspider]

@stcreators event 07: comedy

[alongcomesaspider]

bro u knocked over his drink

read this fic that goes with this art!!

[alongcomesaspider]

Continuation of birthday drabbles for @penny00dreadful, prompt: crack (IM GONNA BE ON SCHEDULE FROM NOW ON)

“Steve,” Eddie whines, voice high and breathy and feverish, “please, my beloved, come closer.”

“I’m not burning dinner so I can check your forehead. It’s the same as it was twenty minutes ago.” Steve stirs the soup, and Eddie whines louder.

“I can see the light, dearest mine,” his boyfriend moans, and Steve hears the thunk as Eddie rolls off the couch.

Steve does not look up from the soup.

“Please,” Eddie sniffles, out of Steve’s line of sight, “bury me next to my uncle, under the apple tree so children might one day find joy upon my grave.”

“Wayne’s not dead.” Steve deadpans, lifting his face from the soup to grab the bread he’d bought on his way home, laying two slices out on a baking try and slathering them with butter, “and I think he might find issue with you saying—”

“Make my funeral be not a solemn affair,” Eddie goes on, interrupting him, “but a celebration of my life which was cut so very short.” He hacks a particularly dramatic cough, and Steve slides the bread under the broiler.

“Will do, babe.” Steve goes on, finding the strength to humor him, “I’ll make sure they play Megadeath as they lower you into the ground.”

“Traitor!” Eddie croons, “my most trusted beloved, betraying me so wholly as to play the turncoats tunes during my body’s final hours upon this earth!”

Steve pulls the soup from the burner, and takes two bowls from their cabinet. “Parsley on yours?”

Eddie pauses. “Only a little.”

Steve grabs the parsley from the fridge, and hears Eddie take another large breath.

“Make my gravestone read something honorable, please, my dearest. Have it commemorate my many great achievements. Slayer of Devils. Conquerer of Hells. Worshipper of fat asses.”

Steve pours the soup into bowls. Pulls the browned bread from the oven and takes it all to their small living room, where Eddie is still lying between the couch and the coffee table.

Eddie gasps when he sees him. “It is but an angel to carry me away! This must be the end! Please, my love, stay true to me and never bed another. My spirit could not bear it, even in death. It is my only request.”

Steve sets down their food. “Do you want to eat on the couch or the floor?”

Eddie scratches at his eyes. Then holds out a hand. “Help me?”

Steve hauls him up. Gently. Eddie’s still warm, despite the dramatic flair. His skin slightly clammy as Steve situates him, wrapping a blanket around his lap and placing the bowl in his lap. He goes in for a kiss, but Eddie ducks his head.

“Don’t wan’ you to get sick.” He sniffles, fishing a tissue from his sweatshirt. He wetly blows his nose.

Steve kisses him on the forehead instead. Gives him his soup, and joins him on their lumpy couch.

Eddie eats with his mouth open, his nose stuffed to hell, and swallows. “Thank you.” He sniffs. “‘S really good, Stevie.”

Steve hums. “What happened to dearest-mine? My love? Angel?”

Eddie laughs, and it turns into a coughing fit, and Steve has to hold his bowl of soup so it doesn’t spill all over his lap. Eyes watering, Eddie smiles. “Dearest-mine,” he begins, taking the bowl back, “my love, my angel, my one and only, thank you for the soup. How did you know this would be the only cure? My spirit will now never have to watch you bed another, for I will be able to stand by your side for many years to come with this delicious elixir of life.” Eddie leans into his side, and Steve kisses his temple.

“I love you too.” Steve murmurs.

Tag list✨: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle

@westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @finntheehumaneater @theheadlessphilosopher @spectrum-spectre

@itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade @transvampireboyfriend

(IM SORRY FOR TAGGING YALL TWICE IN ONE DAY AGAIN BUT LAST TIME PEOPLE SAID IT WAS OKAY SO)

[alongcomesaspider]

Buzzcut

For @klausinamarink ‘s birthday. I’m sorry this is late, my friend 💗

Eddie’s gonna kill him. Gonna murder his uncle and bury him in the backyard so he can never embarrass Eddie ever, ever again.

“This one,” Wayne the Betrayer continues, leafing over to the next page, “was Eddie’s eighth grade talent show.”

Steve makes a particularly strangled noise that lands somewhere between a coo and a laugh, pointing at the photo that Eddie is positive he’d set fire to last year.

Wayne must’ve made copies.

“Look at your hair!” Steve giggles, downright bouncing in his seat as he points to Eddie’s hideous buzzcut, “you were so cute!”

Eddie makes another grab for the photo album but his stupid jock boyfriend with his stupid, hot jock reflexes dances away, getting up from the couch to turn to the next page, which only makes him giggle louder.

“Look at you!” Steve downright coos this time, holding the photo album so close to his face it nearly rubs at his nose.

“I will never forgive you for this.” Eddie grumbles, Steve practically bouncing on his toes as he takes in Eddie’s woeful eighth-grade haircut, and Wayne has the audacity to scoff.

“Your boy asked. I ain’t about to refuse him.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Eddie whines, and Wayne rolls his eyes.

“Not when you’re bein’ an idjit.”

Steve dances back over, keeping the album a safe distance away as he shows Eddie another photo, this time with him at a table covered in dice and miniatures, his hair still cropped close to his head. “I’m framing these.” Steve announces, tapping at the photograph, “look at you!”

And Steve’s smiling so big and wide, so obviously enamored, and Eddie, despite himself, feels his irritation shrink.

“We’re burning it.” Eddie counters, but it’s without heat, and Steve sits down next to him, no longer afraid for the albums safety.

“I love them.” Steve maintains, and Eddie softens more at the heartfelt way his boyfriend gazes on his awkward, gangly phase, on Eddie’s shaved head and how it accentuates his too-big ears and buggy eyes, Steve cradling the pages like those years are something precious.

“You’re biased.” Eddie grumbles, but he scoots a little closer to Steve. Presses their shoulders together. Their thighs.

“‘Ve got baby photos.” Wayne suddenly announces, and Eddie nearly topples off the couch, “you know he didn’t get hair until he was three?”

My permanent tag list (sorry yall are getting tagged twice in one day I am overdue on some gifts!!!) 💗: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle

@westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @finntheehumaneater @theheadlessphilosopher @spectrum-spectre

@itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade

[alongcomesaspider]

i love when fics really make Eddie his truly obnoxious self. he’s making weird noises and wild gestures and ranting? perfect. he’s climbing on the table and can’t sit still? good. he tackled dustin out of the way so he could sit next to steve on the couch? great. he jumped on steve’s back as a way of flirting? yes he did. he’s being annoying on purpose? that’s my boy. big ugly laugh? i would die for him. he had a full paragraph cursing fit and stomped his feet? standing ovation.

[alongcomesaspider]

mombin pt 7 <33

(1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)

[alongcomesaspider]

I forgor how to draw

[alongcomesaspider]

Page 75

Prev: page 74

[alongcomesaspider]

Takhisis, Queen of Darkness (George Barr, AD&D supplement Dragonlance Adventures, TSR, 1987)

[alongcomesaspider]

bro u knocked over his drink

read this fic that goes with this art!!

[alongcomesaspider]

Eddie surviving and going to see The Princess Bride when it comes out in 1987—and it’s a tentative thing, still, between him and Steve; they haven’t named it, but their hands still brush in the space between their seats, and really if Eddie were pushed, he’d say that they both know exactly what they’re heading towards, that they’re just floating between the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. That’s fine by him; they have time now, so much of it.

And the movie is charming and funny, but it’s not the romance or adventure that hits Eddie in the chest. It comes on unexpectedly, every time there’s a scene with the man reading to his grandson who’s sick in bed: suddenly Eddie can feel the softness of the bedsheets he had when he was young, when the move to Wayne’s was still raw and difficult, and it’s Wayne who’s reading to him softly, back when stories of things turning out fine were all Eddie had.

“Let’s see… where were we?” the grandfather mutters, and Eddie laughs because he can hear so much of Wayne in it, that gentle, wry humour. “Oh, yes. In the Pit of Despair.”

Eddie laughs again, choked. He’s clawed his way out of that damned pit so many times. His breathing catches at the thought that it’s been over a year since the deepest pit of them all, when Eddie once thought that the walls were far too high to climb.

“Woah, hey,” Steve whispers, “what’s wrong?”

Eddie shakes his head, smiling. “N-nothing.”

Their row is empty, and in the dark Steve reaches out, fingertips gently brushing underneath Eddie’s eye. They come away wet.

And Steve gives a little shushing noise, so that only they can hear, and it’s him who makes the leap, easily turning the page into the new chapter.

To some people Eddie’s first kiss would mean nothing at all—in their eyes, a chaste peck of comfort in a movie theatre would be just a speck in the grand history of the kiss itself. But for Eddie, it leaves them all behind.

“Farm boy,” he murmurs, when the movie’s over, smiling because the great, terrible story is done, and he is here; he is here. “Take me home?”

Steve smiles back, winks out the corner of his eye. “As you wish.”

[alongcomesaspider]

hawkins high princess, chrissy cunningham 😌

[alongcomesaspider]

For @subeddieweek

I've never been much of a sub Eddie sorta person but this was a fun week, and I'm definitely a 'wet rat Eddie trips over his own feet when Steve gives him an ounce of attention' sorta person and the two really just go hand in hand