#Chrissy's little artwork

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

Reblogging just for Hellcheer cuteness!!!

Proposal, by @emeriart (commissioned for With a Little Help From My Friends)

[hbyrde36]

Chapter 1: Under My Skin

Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Art (coming soon!) by @glitterfang

Beta'd by @penny00dreadful

Rating: E | WC: 5937 | Chapters: 1/2 | AO3 Link

Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, and a new client at that. 

It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, exactly. There were no dates on his calendar, and going out to random bars and clubs on the weekends to look for quick hookups had begun losing its appeal lately.

But it’d been a long week, and he’d much rather have been getting ready to plop down on the couch with Chrissy to split a bottle of red wine while they watched Drag Race, than preparing to do a cover up for some idiot who’d gotten his girlfriend’s name tattooed on his body, only to fall victim to—The Curse. 

Ask any tattoo artist and they’d be the first to tell you, there was no surer way to guarantee a breakup than to ink your significant other’s name on your body forever. 

And yeah, it probably wasn’t fair to judge the guy before they’d even met, but there were only two kinds of people who tended to make that particular mistake—dumbasses, and hopeless romantics. He just kind of assumed his client fell into the former camp, rather than the latter.

Eddie had just started wiping down the front desk counter, which doubled as a display case for the various accessories and body jewelry they carried trying to kill some time between his last appointment and cover-up-guy, when Chrissy came walking out of her studio.

It was one of the biggest perks, in his opinion, of owning their own shop. Not only did each of them finally have their own work spaces—no more having to listen to other client conversations or fighting over a single bluetooth speaker—but being their own bosses also meant they could decorate and customize their own studios to their heart’s content. 

The main area of the shop was a bit of a catch-all, much like his and Chrissy’s shared apartment. It featured neutral walls lined with a mishmash of all the things they loved, sprinkled in and amongst odd antiques, knick-knacks, and various pieces of unique artwork. There was everything from vintage vinyl record jackets tacked to the wall, to faux taxidermy mountings of creatures that had never existed in real life. 

Entering Chrissy’s studio was a little like stepping inside a Lisa Frank notebook cover. All vibrant rainbow colors and aggressive animal print. Eddie had painted the walls himself, color matching the exact shade of fuchsia as the adjustable chair he’d custom ordered just for her. He was no interior designer so she’d taken it from there, and though the finished product was a little too bright for his tastes, even he had to admit it was still pretty fucking metal. 

Eddie’s space was the polar opposite, featuring dark stained wood furniture and a style of decor that could be best described as a slightly more grown up version of a teenage boy's bedroom. Band and movie posters lined three of the walls, but instead of being held up with thumbtacks, or scotch tape, they were neatly laid in matching frames with thick black edging. The remaining wall held a gallery of photos. Him and Wayne from their last fishing trip, one from when he and Chrissy had received the keys to the parlor unlocking its doors on the first day that it was theirs, and an old snap of him and his high school bandmates standing in front of their homemade banner, among many others.

It wasn’t until Chrissy came up to lean on the counter with her jacket zipped-up and her purse slung over her shoulder that he realized something was up.

“Don’t forget to lock up when you're done.” She said, tapping her nails on the glass. “Oh! And can you stop and pick up some oat milk on your way home? We’re out.” 

“Wait, where are you going? Didn’t you have a client booked tonight too? I thought we were in this together, Cunningham!”

“Not anymore.” She said cheerfully, leaning across the counter to rest her elbows on the glass, leaving an ink smudge on the exact spot he had just finished cleaning. He swatted at her with the damp rag and she jerked back with a giggling-gasp.

“Mine had to cancel.”

Eddie groaned. “I hate when clients do that.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. It’s like a free night off I wasn’t expecting.”

“Not exactly free, since canceling means not paying in full.” He grumbled.

“Oh lighten up! It’s not like we’re that behind on bills or anything.”

“Tell that to the electric company.” He said, mostly to tease her, though he couldn't help glancing up at the excessively large and kitschy skull chandelier he’d found on Amazon that definitely didn’t use high efficiency light bulbs, but he had sworn at the time was worth it for The Aesthetic™.

“Why are you always so grumpy?” Chrissy asked, jutting her lip out in a dramatic reenactment of him pouting. 

Not that he was one to pout. 

“I’m not!”

“Look at your face, you're grumpy right now!”

“That's because y- you’re…” He cut himself off with a sigh. 

He couldn't begrudge her the time off, he’d be hightailing it out of there just the same if it had been him. 

“Just get out of here.” He said, conceding defeat.

She beamed. “Okay! See you later!” She said, all but sprinting to the front doors. “Don’t forget about the milk!”

“Wait, why can’t you–” He started to ask, but she was on the other side of the door before he could get the words out.

“Oh forget it.” He mumbled, stashing the glass cleaner away where it belonged. 

About fifteen minutes later the bell above the door chimed, signaling the arrival of what Eddie assumed to be his last customer of the day. 

Except, it couldn't be.

It couldn’t possibly be because the Adonis that had just entered his humble tattoo parlor was, quite frankly, bonkers hot. There was no way, absolutely no way someone had this guy—this guy—so obsessed with them that he went and got their name tattooed on his perfect body and then just… let him go. 

It was unthinkable.

“Hi, you must be Eddie. I recognized you from your Instagram.” Pretty-boy said with a shy smile.

“Steve?” Eddie asked, blinking hard, completely unable to mask the tone of disbelief.

The other man nodded.

Shit, okay.

So this was him—Steeeeeeve Harrington. This was the guy. 

Maybe there was something wrong with him? There had to be a catch, a series of very red flags or something because all Eddie could think about at that moment was, if he ever got a chance with Steve? He’d never let him go. 

Get it together, Munson!

The bright side, of a sort, was that Steve smacked of straight guy energy, so it was unlikely Eddie would even be in the running for a chance anyway. Better to just put it out of his mind.

Though, he supposed he could still… look. It's not like looking ever hurt anyone. Not that he made a habit out of ogling the clientele. Of course, none of his other customers had ever come in wearing vintage Levi’s that fit their ass like a glove, not to mention the way they fit around his–

“Eddie?”

Fuck. 

Had Steve been talking this whole time while he’d been off daydreaming about what those sinfully tight jeans might look like on his bedroom floor?

“Yeah.” A soft chuckle fell from Eddie’s lips as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “S- sorry, man. Spaced out for a second there I guess.” 

What the fuck was wrong with him today?!

“It’s okay. I was just asking if the plan was still the same? In your last email you suggested we should do this over two appointments.”

Work question… yes, good. Focus on the job! 

“Right. With what we talked about I'd like to concentrate on just the outline today, maybe a little shading, and then in six weeks or so once that’s healed have you come back for the color. If you’re still alright with that?”

Eddie could do the whole thing in one shot if Steve really wanted to sit that long, but with something like this he didn't want to feel rushed. He’d done a few concept sketches after emailing back and forth with Steve about what he was looking for, and honestly what they’d come up with wasn’t really his usual style. He could do it, he was more than capable, but he had to wonder why Steve had picked him, out of all the tattoo artists in the city. He’d seen Eddie’s Instagram, so he knew the kind of work he usually churned out. Hell, Chrissy would have been the more obvious choice for this.

Of course, now that he’d gotten an eye-full of Steve in person he was glad he hadn’t tried to pawn him off on her. He was also really hoping Steve would agree to the split sessions, it would give them an excuse to see each other again.

“Whatever you think is best. I’m putting myself in your expert hands.” Steve said, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.

That was… interesting. 

Maybe Eddie had been a little bit hasty in his initial straight assessment?

Steve’s deposit had been paid, and they’d already gone over pricing through email so there wasn't much to discuss as far as that was concerned, After signing some paperwork and getting the other man’s ID scanned into the system there was nothing left to do but walk Steve back to his studio and get this show on the road.

“You can go ahead and take your shirt off, get comfortable. I’ll show you the stencil I drew up and if it looks good we can put it on and get started.” Eddie said, gesturing to his client chair.

He leaned over his desk while Steve got situated, taking a second to gather his thoughts, as well as add a small finishing touch to the transfer sketch before turning back to his client. The sight made his throat go dry. 

It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. 

At Eddie's direction, in preparation, Steve had shaved his chest. More specifically, Steve had shaved half of his chest. The side Eddie would be working on, that sported the existing tattoo, was bare—smooth as a baby's bottom. The other side was… 

It was…

Jesus Christ.

It should have looked ridiculous actually, and it was a little funny, but honestly all Eddie could think when he stared at the untrimmed side of Steve's upper body, resplendent with the most glorious chest hair, was that it was a travesty, a crime even, that he’d never get to see the whole thing grown out in its full glory. 

The lack of a shirt also highlighted the fact that Steve was incredibly toned, much more so than he had initially appeared even through his slim fit henley. 

Eddie shook his head, praying it had suddenly become an etch-a-sketch and he could clear out his thoughts by sheer force. 

He truly didn’t know what had gotten into him. It was hardly the first time he’d worked on someone he found attractive, but usually he didn’t notice it quite this much. When you pierce and tattoo for a living you get used to seeing a lot of bare skin, including occasionally, areas typically reserved for romantic partners. Professional hazzard, but it’d never been a problem for him before. He was an artist, this was his craft, and bare skin was just another kind of canvas.

He blamed it on his current dry spell, self-imposed as it was. 

It was easy enough to go out on a Saturday and find a guy or girl to bring home for the night, but he was so tired of one night stands and meaningless hookups in bar bathrooms. Where was the substance? He wanted companionship. He wanted a partner. He wanted to fall in love. 

Eddie cleared his throat and crossed the room to hand Steve the stencil, busying himself with raising up his stool to the proper height and pulling on a pair of thick black neoprene gloves while the other man looked it over.  

“It’s great.” Steve said. 

“Good.” Eddie quietly let out the breath he’d been holding. “Alright I'm gonna put this on and have you take a look at the placement, make sure you like it, then we can get started.”

Eddie squeezed out a dime sized amount of the stencil gel and rubbed it into Steve’s chest, laying the transfer paper down in just the right way so that the final design would sufficiently cover what was underneath, assuming he had scaled it right. 

It was perfect. After a quick check in the mirror, Steve agreed. 

While they waited for it to dry Eddie double checked his set up to make sure he had everything he would need for the session.

“Ready to get started?”

Steve took a deep breath and blew it out slow. “Yeah. I am.”

His reply felt heavy, like maybe he was talking about more than just the tattoo. Had they known each other at all Eddie might have asked about it, but they were basically strangers, and it wasn’t his job to pry. 

With steady hands he set the needle to Steve's skin and got to work. 

They weren’t at it for very long before Steve started to squirm. 

Eddie ignored it at first, he could tell the guy was trying hard to keep himself still, and he wasn’t really moving enough to actually disturb the work. Sometimes it took a bit for clients to sink into the feeling, to let the pain fade to the background enough that they could relax a little bit or at least be able to keep their body from trying to react to the odd sensation. But then he noticed the light sheen of sweat spreading over Steve's upper body, and would have sworn he could somehow feel the other man’s pulse quickening beneath the hand he had pressed so closely to his heart, even over the vibration of the tattoo machine.

He should probably stop and do a check-in, suggest a breather or some water. It wouldn't be the first time a seemingly tough muscle-bound guy had struggled to sit for him. 

He opened his mouth to say something about it, lifting the needle as he took a quick glance up at Steve’s face, but what he saw had the words dying on his tongue. Steve was staring back at him, face flushed, breath coming quick and shallow, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. 

That… did not look like a face that was in pain—or rather—it didn’t seem like the pain was unpleasant. 

Fuck.

Eddie flicked his gaze quickly back down to his hands, the needle, fighting the urge to look lower. 

He shouldn’t. 

It wasn’t right.

The professional thing to do would be to ignore the reaction completely. 

But Eddie was a weak, weak man.

He looked. 

Just a quick peek, less than a half-second that his eyes wandered south, and immediately he regretted it. 

Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuck.

Suspicion confirmed. Steve was hard. He was also huge if the unmistakable outline was any indication. Eddie bit his tongue, fighting back the groan that was trying to fight its way out of his throat. 

Those jeans should be fucking illegal. The only thing worse would’ve been a pair of gray sweatpants. Now he was the one sweating.

“Sorry.” Steve said, voice strained.

Eddie stilled, lifting the machine away from Steve's chest again before looking back up to meet his eyes. 

“For?”

Steve raised an eyebrow, challenging him to continue to pretend he hadn’t noticed. 

“It’s fine, really. It… happens. Everyone reacts differently to the pain.”

Steve let out a high pitched and breathy huff of laughter. “It wasn’t like this last time.” He muttered under his breath.

Eddie tried hard not to read into that, not to think about what the difference might be.

“Do you need to take a break?” 

“No,” Steve swallowed hard. Eddie watched, momentarily mesmerized by the bob of his adams apple. “But, uh, can we talk or something? To distract me?”

He sounded so vulnerable, and a little embarrassed. It was enough to snap Eddie out of his daze. The last thing he wanted was for the person in his chair to feel uncomfortable. Talking he could do, it was one of his best things. 

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” Eddie asked casually, getting right back into his line work.

“You.” Steve answered quickly, pausing to clear his throat. “Um, I mean, did you always want to be a tattoo artist?”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. I used to spend all my time, including the time I should have been using to study or do my homework, drawing, sketching, painting, you name it, and it just kinda developed from there. I gave myself my first stick-and-poke when I was about 15. My uncle was pissed. Not about the tattoo exactly, but he was worried I wasn't being safe enough about it—sanitary and stuff. Of course, he wasn’t wrong. So, Wayne took me out the next day and we got a book about it, and he bought me all the right materials. Even let me practice on him when I graduated to a tattoo machine.”

“He sounds like a really great guy.” Steve said.

“Yeah, he is.” Eddie could feel the wistful smile spreading across his own face. “Not just anyone could step in and raise someone else’s kid like that. Just wish I got to see him more. I go back to Indiana to visit him a few times a year, but it’s not the same.”

“I don’t see my family very much either, but we’re not close.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My parents, they’re–” Steve trailed off as if looking for the right words. “Well, let's just say they're not as supportive of my—life choices, as your uncle was for you.”

“Oh?”

“I, uh, came out to them a while ago… as bisexual? They didn’t take it very well. Said I was just going through some kind of phase or crisis or something. Sorry, this is probably, like, way too much information to share with someone I just met.”

“No. it’s—Okay, maybe to a normal person it might be but I've never been what anyone would describe as normal. And… I get it.”

Eddie didn’t really have to say it. The outside of the shop sported every kind of pride flag you could think of. There were pictures right behind him on the wall of him and Chrissy at their first ever pride parade right here in the city. Not to mention his social media profiles, where he had a bi  flag right next to his age and pronouns in his bio. Steve knew, was the point, and Eddie was glad he’d felt safe enough in his shop—with him, to talk about it.

“Wayne was really good about that too.” Eddie said softly. “I’m sorry your parents weren’t.”

A comfortable silence settled between them after that and Eddie left it unbroken, better to let Steve decide which direction their conversation went from here—if he wanted to continue it. He seemed more relaxed already and his… predicament had mercifully gone down as they spoke. 

“When did you—how did you… know?“ Steve asked after a while.

“Junior High.” Eddie answered quickly, smiling to himself as he indulged in a little nostalgia. “Kinda the opposite of the usual story, I guess. I thought I was gay. I had such a crush on this boy a grade above me.  Nobody that would have given me the time of day mind you, I was a band geek and a huge nerd, but he was very nice to look at. Then he changed schools. I was heartbroken of course, which is my excuse for why I let this girl drag me under the bleachers during gym class. One second we were just sitting there talking and the next she was in my lap with her tongue down my throat.” 

“And?”

Eddie shrugged. “And I didn’t hate it. I reacted exactly the way a young boy reacts when a pretty girl is kissing them and grinding in their lap. Honestly, it blew my mind a little bit—had to reevaluate my whole world view.”

Steve hummed in understanding.

“It’s still mostly men for me but–” Eddie sighed wistfully, “Women.”

“Women,” Steve agreed reverently, letting out a soft laugh. “It was a bit more recent for me. A friend took me to a gay bar—dragged me there actually.” He started to shake his head, stopping instantly when he seemed to realize he might be moving too much.

Good boy.

Eddie smirked. “I bet you were popular.”

“You could say that. I’ve never had so many people offer to buy me a drink in my life.” As Steve went on he began to rub his hand along the chair's armrest, mindlessly drawing patterns into its surface with his long fingers.

“It’s funny, at 25 I didn’t think I had anything new to discover about myself, at least nothing big, but after that rather eye-opening evening I had to, like you said, reevaluate some things about myself. It wasn’t a huge shock I guess. Like, I had found guys attractive before—friends, celebrities, whatever, I just thought everyone felt that way.”

“Ah, the bisexual’s fallacy. Sure I think about other dudes sometimes, but only the normal amount.” Eddie said.

“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t!”

Eddie stopped tattooing as they held each other's gaze, both managing to keep a straight face for only a second before simultaneously dissolving into hysterical laughter. 

Figuring it was as good a time as any to take a short break, Eddie stripped his gloves off and slid across the room on his stool to a small mini-fridge he kept tucked under his desk, stocked with water and juice—something he always kept on hand in case a client got lightheaded.

As they sipped their drinks and both took an opportunity to stretch, Eddie decided it was finally time to put his foot in his mouth.

“So, how are you enjoying things on this side of the field? Someone as pretty as you, I'm sure you get asked out a lot.”

“No, uh, I don't know. I- I haven't really been out on any dates with guys.” Steve stuttered out nervously. “Kissed a few, but that’s all.” 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Eddie said. He meant it too. Not only was Steve something special to look at, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. He deserved to be taken out and shown a good time. Maybe he was shy.

Steve laid back in the chair, puffing his chest out as he got back into position while Eddie slipped a new pair of gloves on. 

“Why, you offering to show me the ropes?” Steve asked, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

Eddie’s mouth went dry. 

Okay, not that shy then. Surely it was just fun friendly flirting though, right?

“Don’t tempt me.” Eddie teased back. Two could play this game.

“Why not?”

“First rule of the trade, or at least the Munson doctrine, no dating the clients.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Steve said, and without even looking up Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, a hint of–challenge accepted–in his tone.

The next hour flew by as they continued to chat, both remarking on the differences between small town life and city life, as well as lamenting how expensive it was, and how neither of them thought they’d still be living with roommates in their mid-to-late-20's.

For a while Eddie waxed poetic about Chrissy, who of course filled the roles of bestie, roommate, and business partner, which tickled Steve to no end. 

He told the other man how they’d met, apprenticing at the same tattoo parlor at around the same time. and wound up bonding for life almost immediately. They were total opposites on the surface but deep down they were remarkably similar. Eddie didn’t go into too much detail, as it wasn’t his story to tell, but alluded to the fact that he and Chrissy had the shared experience of being born to shitty parents, only to be raised by another family member. A grandmother in Chrissy’s case.

It meant that they understood each other more than most, and yeah, being around one another 24/7 also meant they got on each other’s nerves a lot, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

At some point Steve’s cell phone began to ring from where it was shoved in his front pocket. He apologized profusely for forgetting to switch it on silent before they’d gotten started, but Eddie assured him it wasn’t a big deal. 

Or—it wouldn't have been, except either it was some kind of emergency, or someone who was intent on reaching Steve immediately, and continued trying to call three more times. 

“We can take a break if you need to get that.” Eddie offered.

Truth be told he could use a little breather himself. All this time of being essentially face down in Steve’s incredible chest was getting to him a little bit, not to mention the way his forearm lightly brushed along Steve's stomach whenever he braced himself across the man’s body. The feel of their bare skin touching was almost too much, and more than once Eddie felt himself breaking out in goosebumps. 

“Yeah, I think we’d better. It’s gotta be my little brother and knowing him he won’t stop calling until I answer.”

Eddie busied himself removing his gloves and taking a long drink from his water bottle while he flipped through a few drawings on his side table, trying to look like he wasn’t hearing every word of Steve's side of the conversation. 

“Hey buddy, I'm a little busy right now. What’s going on?” 

Steve paused, listening attentively to the voice on the other end of the call. 

“Dustin, he’s not abandoning you. Just because he wants–”

Sighing as he was abruptly interrupted, Steve somehow made the huff of breath sound both annoyed and fond.

“Well, did he actually say he didn’t want to play D&D with you anymore?” 

Eddie’s head snapped up of its own volition. Did the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen in real life just say D&D?

“That’s what I thought.” Steve said with a satisfied tone. “It's gonna be fine. I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Tell your mom I said hi.”

“Sorry about that.” Steve said, addressing Eddie this time, rolling his eyes as he ended the call. “Teenagers.”

“Pretty cool little brother if he plays Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned. “Not you too! He and all his little friends are obsessed with it.”

“I used to play all the time with a group back in high school. We still try and get together for a one-shot at the holidays when we’re all back home visiting.” Eddie paused, concentrating for a second on wiggling his fingers into yet another set of gloves. There wasn’t really all that much left to do, another 20 minutes or so and he’d be done with the outline. “Was he alright, your brother?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Steve replied as he sat back, getting into position. “We, uh, technically we’re not actually related—I'm an only child. But I used to babysit Dustin when he was younger and when he grew up I just sorta stuck around. It’s only him and his mom at home and I guess I thought… I dunno, like, maybe I could help? I drove him to his first school dance, taught him how to do his hair, shave, that kinda stuff.”

“That's… that’s really sweet, man. I’m sure he appreciates having you around.”

With every new thing he learned about Steve, Eddie felt like he was in deeper and deeper trouble. He’d been having a tough enough time keeping it together with simply lusting over a hot body, but now Steve was turning out to be this sweetheart of a guy and, client or not, Eddie thought he might just be worth breaking all the rules for. 

“He’s worried his friend group is falling apart because one of the guys is going out for the basketball team. He’s afraid if Lucas gets in good with the jocks he won’t want to play with them anymore.”

“As a former outcast and enemy to jocks everywhere, I can understand his concern.” 

“Are you saying we wouldn't have been friends in high school then?”

“Steve, Stevie, please. Please don’t tell me…” Eddie trailed off, stopping what he was doing and gasping for dramatic effect–hand over his heart. “Oh god, you were captain of the sportsball team weren’t you?” 

Steve giggled, his beautiful eyes sparkling with it. “Basketball, to be exact. I was the co-captain of the swim team too.”

“I knew it would never work between us.” Eddie tutted, shaking his head as he got back to tattooing. “Are you reformed, at least?”

“Once a jock, always a jock, I'm afraid. I’m a personal trainer now.”

It explained a lot, and the perks—pun absolutely intended—of Steve's day job were undeniable, but as hot as the mental image of him pumping iron was, the idea of Steve palling around with toxic gym bros all day was almost enough to have Eddie second guessing everything.

“Don’t worry though, I don’t like gym bros any more than the next guy.” Steve said conspiratorially. “My clients are mainly older women looking to maintain their strength and mobility as they age.”

Aaaaand Eddie stood corrected. “Lucky ladies.”

Jesus Christ, could this guy get any more perfect?

Steve shifted in his seat, starting to get antsy after keeeping still for so long. 

“Just a few more minutes, almost done.” Eddie murmured, tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on a spot near the curve of Steve’s collarbone.

“Do you do a lot of these? Cover-ups I mean?” Steve asked. “My roommate is the one who actually suggested it. For some reason I just never thought about it as an option.”

“I don’t know if i’d say a lot, but a fair few, yeah.”

“You, um. You can ask about it… If you want.”

Eddie glanced up in surprise. He would never have brought it up without being prompted, it just didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t deny he was curious, and if Steve was okay with it then–

“Okay, I'll bite. Who’s Nancy?”

“My fiance’. Well, ex-fiance’ now. We broke things off a little over a year ago.”

“That’s rough, I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, It’s… I should have probably seen it coming? We were high school sweethearts—got together before we really knew who we were on our own. But I was dumb and in love. I got the tattoo and proposed. I was so happy that day, but looking back it was so obvious that she’d only said yes out of pity or guilt, not because she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.”

The part of Eddie that believed in true love—and all that cheesy shit—was sad that a couple who had been together for so long, who had essentially grown up together, hadn’t been able to make it work. Selfishly though, a small piece of him was happy to learn that they’d been broken up for quite some time, lessening the chance that, if he did somehow gather the courage to ask Steve out when the tattoo was done, he wouldn’t be on the rebound.

“It was tough. I felt like a failure for a long time, like I was having to start my whole life over from scratch when I'd thought for so long that she was it for me, but it's actually been… good. We weren’t right for eachother, I can see that now. As much as it hurt, I'm grateful she had the courage to break things off when she did.”

“I’m glad you’ve been able to come to peace with it.”

“Getting this tattoo feels like the final step into letting that life go, y’know?”

Eddie nodded. Steve’s demeanor before they got started made so much sense now.

“Is there some significance to the design?” He asked, making his final line and setting the machine down. He wiped at the excess ink on Steve's skin, raising his head just in time to see the way the other man’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, Robin. She–she’s everything to me. Like a best friend, but more somehow. I don’t think I really knew what unconditional love was before her. She’s like, another piece of my soul or something. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

Eddie froze. 

The tattoo design was a bird—a robin.

A robin.

For, Robin.

How could he have been so stupid! 

Of course, Steve was getting one girl’s name covered up with something to represent the new one. 

Jesus Christ, they were both idiots.

Eddie for getting his hopes up, and Steve for making the same mistake—twice. At least this time it was a symbol and not a name, so if he and the latest potential Mrs. Harrington didn’t work out, at least he wouldn't have to worry about covering it up.

“Everything alright?” Steve asked.

The question spurred Eddie back into action. He spread the foam soap over Steve’s chest continuing to clean the finished tattoo while his heart crawled up into his throat. 

“Yup. All good.” Eddie forced the words out.

That's what Steve must have meant about not going on dates, he already had someone at home. Why hadn’t he just said that before though? And why had he flirted with him? 

Maybe he’d felt funny at first about admitting to being with a woman after all the talk about being bisexual. Not that Eddie would have judged, but he knew a lot of people did—bi erasure was so real. He understood that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less that Steve had, inadvertently or not, lead him on. 

Eddie gently patted the newly cleaned skin dry with a paper towel and carefully applied a square of Saniderm over the area, smoothing it out as he gave Steve his usual spiel, albeit a little robotically, about how to care for the tattoo over the coming days and weeks.

He quickly turned his back when he was done, telling Steve he could get dressed, and feeling stupid as all hell for being this upset about a guy he barely knew. He’d felt something though, potential—a spark. It was more than he’d felt for anyone in a long time.

Steve got quiet, looking a little confused with the sudden 180° Eddie’s mood had pulled. He felt a little bad about that as he brought the guy back out to the counter, but it wasn’t as though he’d suddenly become unprofessional. He was just… no longer being overly friendly.

After confirming the date for his second session, Steve paid his balance and Eddie walked him to the door.  

“Have a good night, Steve. Call the shop if you have any concerns or questions about aftercare.”

Steve bit his lip. “Oh, I… okay. See you in six weeks then.”

Eddie forced a smile, waiting until Steve was out of sight around the corner to lock up, and slunk back to his studio to disinfect it so he could finally go home and sulk.

Chapter 2

All my thanks to @penny00dreadful for all of your wonderful beta work, and cheerleading, and support, and just generally being THE BEST 💜

[ladykailitha]

New Year's Eve

Hi!! I hope you all had a great year this year and that the next one is even better.

This is a sequel to this so be sure to read that first.

It does get spicy and there is a trigger warning for homophobic language (Steve's mom is a bitch).

Summary: Eddie and Steve ring in the new year as lovers and inspire others to do the same. Steve's mom tries to make trouble, but trouble finds her instead. All and in all, it's been a good year.

***

“I can’t wear that!” Eddie protested. “I’m going to the Newfield! I’m pretty sure it’s black tie to even breathe in its direction!”

Chrissy raised her eyebrow. “Do you want to know what Steve told me when asked me to help find you something to wear?”

Eddie looked at the red silk button up, the tight leather pants, the chunky boots and grey vest and then back up at her.

He sighed heavily. “Something about being me?”

“Close,” she admitted. “He told me that he wanted to make sure you stood out as the artist. That you were on display as much as your artwork. That people would look at you and go ‘yes, that is the master’. His words, not mine. But you don’t have to wear this. We can find something else.”

Eddie reached out to rub the silk of the shirt between this finger and his thumb.

“I’ll try it on first.”

Chrissy nodded.

He got dressed slowly, taking the time to admire each piece that Chrissy had picked out for him. The pants first. He loved the way they hugged his body without being skin tight. He pulled on the boots, happily twisting in the mirror. They went easily over the pants and highlighted how long his legs were.

Next came the shirt. It was a lot looser than he expected, making it almost billowy in nature. The silk felt divine against his skin. Chrissy tucked it into his pants and rolled up the sleeves. It kinda bunched at the waist, but when he put on the vest, it covered that immediately.

The whole ensemble was set off with leather bangles and chain bracelets on his wrists, a few necklaces that would show off the skin of the first three buttons of the shirt undone.

No earrings, though.

“I wanted earrings and to put your hair up,” Chrissy lamented. “But Steve said he liked your hair down.”

Eddie blushed. He had told Steve that a lot people seemed to think that because he had it long, he had to pull it back. But unless he was painting, Eddie liked it loose.

The fact that Steve had argued on his behalf in favor of leaving it down sent butterflies dancing in his ribcage.

“I like it,” Eddie said, looking into Chrissy’s three way mirror. “It’s classy without taking away who I am.”

Chrissy nodded. “Then I did my job right. I can’t believe I get to be your plus one at this.”

“Steve wanted to be my plus one,” Eddie said. “But then he found out he got ten free tickets to this it made the point moot.”

“Which means all your friends and family get to come,” Chrissy said with a fond smile.

He laughed. “More like he gets to invite all the kids because I also got ten free tickets as the featured artist.”

Her eyes went wide. “Really? So this going to be a blast tonight, isn’t it?”

He turned around a couple more times in the mirror. “Oh hell yeah!”

She clapped excitedly.

“Now show me your dress, Cinderella!” he crowed pushing her in the direction of her closet.

Chrissy giggled and pulled out a garment bag. She unzipped it and pulled out a long silver sheath dress with long sleeves and plunging neckline.

“Try it on and give me a twirl, love!” Eddie cooed.

She got out the underwear she was going to wear with it and slipped behind the mirror. Once she was dressed she stepped out and slowly spun in a circle.

Eddie wolf whistled. “You are going to finally bag that lesbian you’ve had your eye on with the dress, girly. You look fantastic!”

She tugged at the sleeve a little. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

Eddie picked her up and spun her around. “I think it’s perfect for an art exhibition.”

She blushed. “Yeah, okay. Let’s finish getting ready. We have to be at the Newfield by three so you can get everything how you want it.”

Eddie didn’t have much more to do so he wandered the loft a bit. It was strange to see it so empty. But all his artwork was either hung up or displayed to be auctioned off.

When Chrissy joined him, she had another garment bag and black silk shirt and deep blue vest.

“What’s this for?” he asked as he took the hanger from her.

“The exhibition tonight,” she said. “You can’t wear the same thing you wore to the auction, babe.”

He blinked at her in confusion. “Why not?”

“People are snobs,” was her curt response.

Eddie frowned but a slow smile spread over his face. “Does that mean that Steve has change too?”

Chrissy smacked his arm. “No sex in the Newfield, you heathen!”

“Well, someone has to pin the art to the walls,” he replied with a smirk.

She stared at him wide-eyed. “Did you just call Steve a work of art?”

“Yup!”

“Oh god,” she sighed. “This is going to be a long night.”

Eddie kissed her cheek. “You love me though.”

Chrissy batted him away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

*

The auction was huge success and they ended up raising more than three million dollars for “Roll Initiative”.

And according to Steve there would probably be checks waiting for them at the end of the night, too.

Eddie was sad to see the blue jewel toned tux Steve had been in for the auction go, but the outfit he arrived in for the exhibition more than made up for it.

He was all in black with matching long tie and pocket square. From a distance you almost couldn’t see the tie at all. It made Eddie feel things. Uncomfortable things considering how tight these leather pants were.

Eddie was coming back with two glasses of champagne for him and Steve when he saw the most elegant woman he had ever laid eyes on in his life chatting with him.

He got a little closer and realized they weren’t chatting, it was far too heated for a chat.

“I don’t even know why you’re here, Mom,” Steve was saying.

Mrs. Harrington waved him off. “All board members get tickets to these sort of events and when I heard you had booked the night, I just had to see who my son would pick for his little pet artist.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I wasn’t expecting this.” She waved her hand at the artwork on the wall.

“And what’s wrong with it?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

She flicked his forehead. “Don’t scowl, Steven. You don’t have much good looks to ruin, but don’t ruin what you have.”

Eddie had bite the inside of his cheek to avoid throwing hands with this woman.

Steve leveled her with a glare. “You could have looked up who he was, Mom. You didn’t have to come.”

Mrs. Harrington sneered. “What if I wanted to see my son? To see what he had done with all the money his father had left him?

Steve straightened up. “Don’t act like you didn’t get the lion’s share of Dad’s money when he died.”

“It was the least he could do considering he died of a heartache in that woman’s bed!” she hissed.

Steve barely suppressed a giggle, Eddie did not. She turned to him and critically eyed his clothes, his hair, his tattoos.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Mrs. Harrington snarled.

Eddie walked up to Steve and handed him a glass. Then with his free hand, slid it around Steve’s waist.

Steve leaned into Eddie’s side, soaking up the warmth and support. “This is Eddie Munson, Mom. The artist being shown tonight and my boyfriend.”

Contempt darkened her face as she looked him over again. “Just like your father, throwing events for the whores that grace his bed as favors. I thought you better than this, Steven.”

Eddie bristled but Steve laughed outright. “Oh, Mom. You know nothing about me if you think that. When was this event put on the schedule?”

Mrs. Harrington wiggled her shoulders. “I wouldn’t know, dear.”

“Bullshit,” Steve snapped. “You know very well when it was.”

She glared at him. “Fine, back in August. I don’t know the exact date.”

“The seventeenth. For the silent auction,” Steve acknowledged. “When was it turned into the double event.”

She squirmed under his gaze until she folded. “After Thanksgiving.”

Eddie turned to Steve in shock. “What?”

“That was when I decided it would be my Christmas gift to you,” Steve murmured, nuzzling Eddie neck.

“But we didn’t get together until Christmas!” Eddie said.

Mrs. Harrington looked away.

Steve scoffed. “Which you probably also knew, considering how close you are to Dr. Martin Brenner, the head of the board. Because I called him on Boxing Day to let him know the change in plans regarding the speeches tonight.”

She turned to scowl at him.

“And I’m betting that’s when you decided you wanted to crash the party,” Steve continued. “You couldn’t let me enjoy tonight with all my low brow friends and my boyfriend.”

“It’s demeaning!” she hissed. “Your father would be very displeased if you saw you now.”

Steve laughed again. “That’s what you said when I bought out the stockholders. And again when I changed the way the company did business. And again when I hired Robin. And again when I had the Hendersons move in with me when they lost their house to a fire. And again when when I came out as bisexual last year. I’m glad he would be displeased with me, because that means I’m doing something right.”

Mrs. Harrington gasped, bringing her hand to her chest. “We didn’t raise you this way! To wallow in the depths of sin!”

“No, you didn’t and thank God that Steve didn’t listen to a god damn thing,” Eddie said, tightening his grip on Steve’s waist. “Because this is the best, most beautiful, bright, wonderful human being I’ve ever met and I’m happy I get to call him mine.”

“He’ll tire of you, you know,” she smirked. “Just like his father. Always hopping from one bed to the next. He was always like that. Even as a child, never being able to focus on one thing for long. The way he would just prattle on.”

Eddie could feel the blood boil up under his skin. He was sure that it was just his parents that made Steve feel like he was too much, but home should be safe.

“Sounds more to me like bad parenting,” he said nonchalant, “then it being a problem with Steve.” He kissed Steve’s cheek. “Come on, babe. Jeff and the boys wanted to meet you.”

And then they left her standing there sputtering and stomping her foot.

They went in search of Eddie’s friends, who were thankfully all grouped together.

“Finally we get meet the man, the legend,” the short, fluffy haired one that reminded Steve of Dustin.

“Steve, these the remaining members of the Hellfire Club,” Eddie said, steadfastly ignoring the comment. “Jeff Lawrence, his girlfriend, Miranda Steiner, Gareth Hughes and his twin Gethin, and Brian Martin. Gethin and Miranda aren’t participating members, but are important nonetheless.”

Steve waved. “Nice to meet you all.”

Miranda looked around. “When Eddie told us that you had organized all this for him, I didn’t believe it. But it’s so amazing for people to come see this, see his work.”

Eddie’s phone went off. Then again. And again. He pulled it out to look at it.

“Holy shit!” he cried.

“What’s up, Ed?” Gareth asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I’m getting notifications from my website of people buying prints and posters and mugs...” he whispered.

“Looks like you’re going to have to expand your marketplace, Eds,” Steve murmured before kissing his cheek.

“T-shirts,” Jeff suggested. “I always wanted one of the half-elf fighter.”

“Tumblers!” Gareth said excitedly. “Or those insulated coffee mugs.”

“Dice boxes!” was Miranda’s contribution. “You could even start getting dice made based on your work. Like a purple and green swirling one for the half-orc bard.”

Eddie’s eyes glittered. “And selling that stuff would give me time to work on my own passion projects plus being able to focus on the charity...” He turned to Steve. “And it’s all because of you, Stevie. I can’t thank you enough.”

He pulled Steve closed and kissed fiercely on the lips.

Steve was bright red when they finally pulled apart. “You did all the work, babe, I just forced people to look.”

Eddie kissed him again. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I might have a couple of ideas,” Steve growled low and seductive.

Eddie gulped and then turned to his friends. “Yup, bye. It’s nice to seeing you all, but I’ve really got to dash!”

He grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him toward the bathroom. He hit all the stall doors to make sure they were empty and locked the door behind them.

“I almost creamed my pants at your little suggestion,” his voice came out as a low rumble, deep and dark from his chest.

Steve’s eyelids drooped and he looked up at Eddie through his eyelashes. “Did you now? It must have been so painful in those pants, darling. Should I help you out?”

Eddie gulped. He had brought Steve in here for the express purpose of getting off with his boyfriend, but now faced with the actual prospect of seeing Steve on his knees had him shaking.

Steve ran his hands over Eddie’s torso as he slid to the floor. He looked at his watch and grinned. “We’ve got fifteen minutes before the countdown. Let’s see if I can get you off before then.”

Eddie staggered against the door for something to support him because he knew once Steve got his mouth on him, his knees were going to buckle.

Steve slowly unzipped Eddie’s pants and was pleased to see that no there was nothing between him and Eddie’s cock. He slid his hands up and down Eddie’s thighs as he took in the sight.

Eddie was about to tell him to hurry up when Steve licked a slow agonizing stripe up his length. His retort became a moan of pleasure.

“Fuck, Stevie,” he gasped. “You feel so good.”

And then Steve took him completely in his mouth and good wasn’t even close as a descriptor for how amazing it felt.

Steve was licking, sucking, and kissing in turns and all Eddie could do was grab the beautiful man before him and hold on for dear life.

It didn’t take long for Eddie to come down Steve’s throat with a breathy moan.

Steve tucked him away and then Eddie pulled him to his feet to kiss him deeply.

“Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart,” he muttered against Steve’s lips. “That is the hardest I’ve ever come.”

Steve smirked. “That’s just the appetizer. The main course will be tonight after the exhibition. I just didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable all night because I gave you a raging hard on.”

Eddie chuckled. “My hero.”

Steve checked his watch and nodded. “We’ve got five minutes to wash up and get back out there before the ball drop.”

Eddie leaned his head against the door and let out a shuddering sigh. “I think mine already did.”

Steve laughed.

“Chrissy is going to kill me, by the way,” Eddie said once he had caught his breath enough to stand on his own.

“Oh?” he asked, looking up from where he was washing in hands in the basin.

“Yeah, she told me no sex in the Newfield,” he said, cocking his head to the side with an easy smile. “And that just happened.” He waved between them lazily indicating what they just got up to.

Steve laughed. “Oh boy, is she going to be in for a shock.”

Eddie walked over and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “Yeah, how’s that, babe?”

“It’s a badly kept secret that the board brings their lovers in here all the time to fuck among the art.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, god. I can’t wait to tell her.”

Steve grinned back at him and they got cleaned up and made it back out to the main area before the countdown.

Mrs. Harrington glared at them when they emerged hand in hand.

The countdown began.

“10.”

“9.”

“8.”

“Happy New Year’s Eds.”

“5.”

“Happy New Year’s, baby.”

“2.”

“1.”

They pressed their lips together as fireworks ignited outside, bursting over top of the Newfield to ring in the new year.

When they broke apart, they looked around for all their friends and family. Dustin and Suzie were making out under Eddie’s painting of the Entwives. Lucas and Max had their heads pressed together as they held hands. Wayne and Claudia were happily chatting away near a statue of some Greek hero. All of the Hellfire club had clustered together and were toasting the New Year. Even Robin and Chrissy had finally sealed the deal, judging from the way Chrissy was laughing into Robin’s neck.

But no, the surprise of the evening was the way El was smiling and hopping up and down joyfully at Will and Mike slow dancing to the music in their heads. Mike’s hand gently pressed against Will’s side while his other hand was clasped in Will’s. Will’s hand kept stroking Mike’s face like if he stopped, Mike would vanish into thin air.

Eddie licked his lips. “Well that’s new.”

Steve laughed. “It most certainly is. But it’s also a long time coming. I think they had to grow up first.”

“Do you–you don’t think they got together because of us, do you?” Eddie asked shyly.

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

“I mean it might have got their heads of their ass,” he said after a moment. “But that a thought for another time. I’m practically vibrating to get you out of those clothes.”

“You’ve got it, baby,” Eddie murmured, kissing the side of his mouth. “Let’s go say goodbye and then we’ll leave.”

They said their goodbyes and had reached the door when Steve felt someone pull on his arm.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Steven?” Mrs. Harrington hissed. “There is still an hour left and having both the host and artist leave before the end? Scandalous!”

Steve shrugged her off. “I’m an adult, Mom. I have been for nearly a decade. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“Maureen!” someone called out.

All three of them turned to see a distinguished older gentleman with a neat beard and shining eyes.

“Oliver!” Mrs. Harrington greeted.

Oliver Jensen was one of the museums biggest donors and on the board with her.

Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand and held it tightly.

“Word tonight has reached me of your homophobic views,” Oliver said with a rich accent that practically oozed grace and dignity. “I was hoping you would refute the rumor.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand. He didn’t know who this man was but he would be stupid not realize that he was on their side.

“It’s a perversion in the sight of God!” Mrs. Harrington hissed. “This man has corrupted my son.”

Oliver tilted his head in confusion. “He came out as bisexual three years ago and only recently met Mr. Munson, how could he have corrupted your son?”

“Have you seen the filth this man puts on his website?!” she snarled.

Oliver blinked at her. “Yes, of course. Talented young man. I’m quite fond of the Drow BDSM scene with the spider web behind them. I was hoping that the original would have been up for auction earlier and was sadly disappointed it wasn’t.”

“Text Stevie your address,” Eddie said. “I’ll have it mailed right over.”

Oliver lit up. “Oh would you? It’s my husband’s favorite piece!”

Mrs. Harrington blanched. But then she turned red. “You Satan’s spawn! You’ll go to hell too!”

Oliver snapped his fingers and Mrs. Harrington was being pulled away, kicking and screaming.

He pulled out his checkbook. “Who do I make this out to?” he asked Eddie. “You or the charity?”

Eddie blinked. “You don’t have to! Think of it as a gift for throwing the old hag out.”

Oliver laughed. “So the charity then.” He wrote out the check and handed it over to Steve because Eddie was too stunned to take it.

“Sir,” Steve said. “This is too much.”

Oliver waved him off. “Nonsense. It’s great to see children being encouraged to participate in things outside the norm.” He patted them both on the cheek and walked away.

Eddie finally startled out of his daze to look over Steve’s shoulder. There in big, bold, black ink was a check made out to Roll for Initiative to the tune of one million dollars.

“Oh shit.”

Steve could only agree. He carefully put it in his wallet so he wouldn’t lose it and then took Eddie’s hand again.

“Here’s to the best year I’ve ever had,” Steve murmured.

“And here’s to the next one that will be even better!” Eddie agreed.

They kissed as the fireworks continued to burst in the night sky behind them.

Later they would go Eddie’s loft and strip each other bare. Then they would make love several times before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

And when Steve woke up the next morning he found Eddie in front of an easel.

He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. “What’s got you working at seven am on New Year’s day?”

Eddie relaxed against Steve’s broad chest. “A companion piece to your Christmas present.”

Steve nuzzled him right below his ear. “Oh?”

“Nothing about your painting said that it was a D&D yellow dragon,” Eddie murmured. “So after tea, the yellow dragon transforms and...” He shoved hair in front of his face, even though he knew Steve couldn’t see it at that angle.

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps you show me what the dragon does to ravish his knight.”

“It’s a long way off from being finished.”

Steve took Eddie’s earlobe between his teeth. “I meant in the bedroom, darling.”

Eddie got up so fast that the knocked over the stool in his haste to get them back to the bedroom.

Steve laughed as he followed behind. He thought back to that day when he called and spoke Chrissy on a whim.

He had been so sure she would tell him to get lost. Dismiss him as just another creepy fanboy just trying to get into Eddie’s pants. He left the business card in their mailbox and hoped.

He got way more than he bargained for. All he wanted when he set out on this quest was to get something for the Party that they would cherish forever. What he got was lifelong friends, an amazing boyfriend, and Robin a girlfriend.

Perhaps magic existed after all.

***

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

[magniloquent-raven]

Cute Lil Hellcheer Thought:

Chrissy getting a tattoo.

Just a little one. Tiny. And somewhere her mom won't see it when they see her for the holidays.

She'd assume Eddie talked Chrissy into it, is the thing. And he didn't. He nearly passed out from shock when she even suggested it. She was holding his hand while he got his own tattoo done at the time, and she'd been eyeing up the artwork on the walls the whole session.

It takes her a month or two to work up to actually doing it. And. Well, it's more uncomfortable than she expected. Eddie always chats and smiles through his, but she supposes he has had a lot more practice. She squeezes his hand the whole time she's in the chair, and makes him distract her by talking about his latest campaign plans ("You have to swear not to tell the guys, babe, pinky swear. This is top secret.") It's nice just to hear his voice, even if she still isn't super clear on all the rules and lore he seems to know by heart. She's learning. Some of it. Slowly.

The tattoo is a simple thing, minimal shading. It doesn't take long. After it's done Chrissy spends the next few days doing everything with extreme caution. She's nervous about it rubbing on the inside of her shirt, or bumping into anything, or God forbid she crack the scabs by moving the wrong way. Eddie thinks it's hilarious watching her shuffle around, stiff-armed and slow, and he keeps pretending he's going to poke her still-tender shoulder.

He never does, and she knows he won't. He's been just as cautious as her. Patting on moisturizer for her and letting her sprawl across his lap so she doesn't have to lean her shoulder against the back of the couch when they're watching TV. He keeps tracing light circles around the tattoo, never touching where it hurts, drawing a border like he's reminding himself where it is.

When they're both sure it's healed, no more scabs and peeling and itchy spots, he says he's gotta make sure, so he kisses her tattoo. ("It's the best way to check, trust me. Why are you laughing at me? I'm doing very professional science, and you're laughing at me.")

[billybigbang2024]

The Billy Big Bang posting season starts on November 1st and Team #11 of the Billy Big Bang will be posting their collaboration through November 9th! The artwork and banner are by @cuepickle / Cuepickle and the fic is by @spaceofentropy / Zeros83! We're eager to see what they've come up with but here's a little info to whet your appetites too!

Fic Title: As You Wish

Rating:  Mature

Warnings:  No Archive Warnings Apply 

Relationships:  Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove & Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie & El

Characters:  Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Jane "Eleven" Hopper, Murray Bauman, Henry Creel, Dr. Brenner, Jason Carver, Max Mayfield 

Additional Tags:  The Princess Bride AU, pirates, swordfights, blood and violence (but not too explicit), minor character deaths, temporary major character death, magic, torture, murder, animal death (canonical to The Princess Bride) 

Length: 29k

Summary:  

Everybody thinks they know what happened, that time that three unsavory people kidnapped the Princess Bride in order to start a war. Everybody is wrong.

Her name was Chrissy, not Buttercup, and the Dread Pirate Roberts was not in love with her, not in the romantic way everybody thinks, anyway. And he wasn't alone, but accompanied by his second, Mr. Harrington! And the swordman wasn't Spanish, nor was there a Turkish strongman.

But it was, indeed, a story about true love, adventure, treachery, duels, and revenge. Care to know the truth?

[ymaohoh]

Masterlist

So I've fallen right into the deep end of the HellCheer fandom. Ride or die. I'm in love with Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson. The fans are fucking talented too, alright? I've been binging fics and the artwork but there's certain troupes/ideas/prompts that keep rattling away in my brainbox. I'm going to note them here for if (or when) I maybe write something for the two...but (public service announcement) if anyone knows a fic out there which can scratch these little itches please link me up.

Updated: 18.04.24

My Completed Fics

Chrissy starts dating. Eddie's not thrilled - Dating Chrissy - oneshot

Eddie wants to buy something nice for Chrissy. Candles are romantic, right? He ventures on a quest to the mall - Yankee Candle Baby - oneshot.

Chrissy is such a Brat with Eddie and Jason watches it (while hiding). Jason's POV - Chrissy Cunningham is a Brat - oneshot - mature

What if Chrissy ran from Eddie after her vision? What if it pushed them apart? They later share a joint and things get much much worse. My take on 'Chrissy lives' but it takes a little while for them to get back on the same page - Chrissy Runs Away - Chapter 3/3.

Eddie and Chrissy have unprotected sex against a brick wall after his gig because they can't wait - “We could always just…do it anyway?" - oneshot - mature

Eddie and Chrissy die but they're summoned again for the final fight Ft. time travel and angst - my hope for season 5 - Howl - oneshot

Gender Swap AU where Ellie Munson saves Chris Cunningham - a play on 'Chrissy Lives' - Rule 63' - oneshot

Ongoing

Vecna keeps Chrissy in hell - 'and she's a bride of the fucking devil' - 2/2 chapters.

My Mess of Drabbles

Eddie dies and Chrissy is waiting for him - end of passion play, crumbling away - short drabble only

Chrissy the Vampire Slayer AU

Labyrinth AU

X-Files AU

Pirates AU

Stardust AU

Jason joins the good side AU

Photocheer moodboard (Chrissy x Jonathan)

Headcannon Prompts

Max's relationship with Hellcheer

Dustin's relationship with Hellcheer

Chrissy and Wayne Munson's (beautiful) relationship

Chrissy and The Party headcanons

Favourite Fanfictions Masterlist

Need a new fic? Not sure where to start? Check out these INCREDIBLE Hellcheer fanfictions

In need of/ Prompts

Chrissy gets her first tattoo. A cliche at this point no? I'm torn between her getting this done without Eddie knowing as a surprise, or if I want him right there holding her hand.

Eddy eyeing her up in the school cafeteria or class. Basically Eddy simping over Chrissy.

Anything with Eddie and Chrissy reuniting after death / or in the upside-down (manifesting the second).

Chrissy and Eddie getting high together. Maybe a dash of 'will I remember any of this tomorrow?' as they confess their feelings and frustrations.

Eddie loves Chrissy in a sundress. The more feminine, girly, and flouncy the better. He wants to get his hands under it.

He also loves her in a Hellfire top. Anything really that marks her subtly as his.

Other character POV's watching them flirt. Sweet sweet music to my...eyes?

He loves it when she wears one of his rings. She has plenty of her own jewelry (and it's all real gold/expensive/fit for a princess) but it doesn't mean anything really. Her eyes light up at his rings, though.

Together they create a D&D character for her to practice with. They discuss what type she's most likely to be (Eddie's a bard right?). I'm feeling Chrissy might also have that bard energy (she's THE hype girl, right?) or a healer? They definitely get distracted though and don't actually finish it.

He is a rambler. He talks when he's nervous - and Chrissy finds it easy to keep up.

Chrissy tells the jocks to leave the Hellfire club alone in the school corridor. She gets annoyed when she hears them referring to the kids as 'freaks'. Eddie adores the fire and nerve he sees in her eyes because it only really ever comes out when she's in protective mode (bonus points 1) if she tells Jason to fuck off 2) she walks away with the Hellfire club after).

Chrissy is the only one who gets him to study (and pass). He knows he has a reason to now, you know? They've got plans and he isn't wasting time.

Eddie has doubts about Chrissy really truly loving him - she's way out of his league, after all, so she makes sure to create visual reminders. She takes their photo together and tacks it up in her locker for all to see.

Eddie loves fucking Chrissy in her cheerleading uniform. She loves fucking him when he's backstage. They will want to mark their place in each other's bizarre worlds.

Eddie worries about his future with Chrissy (what's his dumbass supposed to do while she excels at college?) but he likes the way his last name suits her.

Eddie is ONLY soft for Chrissy. A scene where he's trying to be big and scary for the club and she unknowingly fractures this image by doing something oh so achingly cute. Maybe she giggles or squee's during a D&D session? It takes him ages to drag himself back into his DM role.

I'll be adding to this , fo' sure.

Is there an official name for this dynamic? Unpopular baddass x sunshine princess?

All aboard the ship. Ahoy ahoy.

[alltheweirdkidsinoneplace]

Eddie Munson + potential Iron Maiden references

because I'm hyperfixiating and desperate. Also apparently not everyone was raised on 80s metal, so this might be new to some people and gatekeeping is lame. None of this is confirmed obviously and I'm probably reaching but here we go

let's start with the most obvious one: This is Iron Maiden's mascot. His name is Eddie. He's been on every single album cover, most single covers, merch, posters... He looks a little different every time, but he's always undead.

This is the cover artwork for the 1982 album The Number of the Beast. It features A huge version of Eddie, controlling the strings of a red, devil-like creature, which in turn holds the strings of a tiny version of Eddie. The Devil (Vecna, there I said it) is not shown to be aware of Big Eddie controlling him. It's all very double agent, The Spy parallel. Also if you take just the frame of Big Eddie's hand and the devil, it looks A LOT like Eddie Munson's puppetmaster tattoo. With a little fantasy and even more reaching there's also some vaguely mindflayery shape in the background of the image.

(probably irrelevant but still fun fact: This album was released on March 22nd 1982 - EXACTLY four years before Eddie Munson became the main suspect in Chrissy's death)

This one speaks for itself. We've all seen the Eddie prequel book that's gonna come out later this year with literally the same title as this 1983 song.

Interestingly, Eddie has batwings here, aka KAS THEORY CONFIRMED?

This one, holy shit. This is the artwork for the 1986 (!) album Somewhere in Time, and if the year and title weren't enough, there is so much more.

1. Again starting with the most obvious: There is a graffito on the wall to the very right that literally says EDDIE LIVES.

2. Under the graffito we see a hand reaching up from the ground (grave?). The version of Eddie that we get here is a cyborg, and the hand on the ground looks very cyborg-esque as well. The band members are seen a little towards the left as normal humans, so it's not like everyone's just a cyborg in this world. Ergo the hand belongs to a second Eddie, which is very in line with the whole "there is another timeline with shadow selves"-theory.

3. The red clouds in the background are very vecna-y.

4. The little winged figure from the Flight of Icarus cover is seen left of the big tower in the middle.

5. The neon sign of the movie theatre to the very bottom left contains the words "Live After Death" (illegible here, but it's there!)

6. The lyrics on this album! In particular Wasted Years, featuring the lines "But now it seems I'm just a stranger to myself

And all the things I sometimes do, it isn't me but someone else"

- again, very much in line with shadow selves. And even more Stranger in a Strange Land:

"Was many years ago that I left home and came this way

I was a young man full of hopes and dreams

But now it seems to me that all is lost and nothing gained

Sometimes things ain't what they seem

No brave new world, no brave new world

No brave new world, no brave new world

Night and day I scan horizon, sea and sky

My spirit wanders endlessly

Until the day will dawn and friends from home discover why

Hear me calling, rescue me

Set me free, set me free

Lost in this place and leave no trace

Stranger in a strange land

Land of ice and snow

Trapped inside this prison

Lost and far from home

[...]

They found his body lying where it fell on that day

Preserved in time for all to see

No brave new world, no brave new world

Lost in this place, and leave no trace

What became of the man that started

All are gone and their souls departed

Left me here in this place so all alone"

Does that sound like someone left for dead in the Upside Down or is that just me?

7. idk a fuckload more in the cover probablay because it's wild.

Bonus Metallica fact: Master of Puppets was released on March 3rd 1986. Eeven if he bought the album the day it was released (he would) that would have given him under three weeks to rehearse it so much that he could give the most metal concert ever on March 27th.

Anyway that's just from the top of my head; I might add on to it if/when I think of more. PLEASE spam me with your theories I beg you.

Side note: Contrary to popular belief, if you got into metal because of Eddie: That's awesome! Welcome! Again, gatekeeping sucks; we've all had our minds blown by a Metallica song for the first time at some point, so let's be nice to the newcomers.

[lemonhoarddragoness]

Chrissy comes to a basketball team afterparty at Jason’s college. Instead of showing her any interest, Jason decides to ignore her save when he’s ‘defending her honor’. Chrissy finds herself feeling awkward and out of place until Carol, a girl she remembers from high school, scoops her up from the chaos of the fight and invites her to something a little more her speed. Carol’s speed is apparently having Chrissy screw her atop Tommy’s bed and Chrissy finds she is very, very into it.

I had the absolute pleasure of being paired with Tukru aka @hawkinsleather (who made this lovely cover art and more) for the Stranger Things Sapphic Mini Bang hosted by @sapphicstevents !

Together we created a fic and artwork for the ship Chrissy Cunningham/Carol Perkins aka BubbleCheer featuring omegaverse dynamics, college au, no upside down au, and sapphic first times. Fic and art can be found here 💚

[cranberrymoons]

baby, i'm all tied up

prompt: vines (discord drabble) word count: 500 rated: t tags: hellcheer, meet cute, rockstar eddie, makeup artist chrissy

He hadn’t really expected for it to turn out like this, all but immobilized against a pillar while the rest of the band stands around him perched on platforms of different heights which – he’s been told – will eventually look like jagged outcroppings of rock. 

Apparently post production can work miracles, because right now they just look like boxes, and Eddie can feel the fake vines (whatever they’re made out of, rubber?) chafing at his wrists, and –

Well. 

This is what you get for hiring an avant garde French photographer to do the artwork for your third studio album, which just had to be a concept album based on some stupid DND nonsense that he’s absolutely regretting now.

The photographer takes a break to fiddle with one of his lenses, and the makeup artist shuffles forward to touch up his face. He lets her angle his chin this way and that, and he studies her face as she works.

“Any idea how much longer?” he asks after a moment. “I kind of have to pee, and –”

He flexes against the vines to demonstrate, and she laughs.

“Just another hour or so, I think.”

“Oh great,” he says. “I only have to not pee for an hour. Awesome.” 

She smiles again but doesn’t say anything, and he shuts his eyes obediently as her brush tickles over his cheeks and up toward the bags that are probably showing through the concealer. 

So he was out a little late last night; it’s not like he had a photoshoot or anything this morning.

“I’m Eddie,” he says after a moment. He opens his eyes as she reaches into her bag to switch brushes. “By the way.”

She glances up, raising her eyebrows. Her smile is toothy and lovely, and he kind of wishes he wasn’t tied up like this, so he could – he doesn’t really know. Something. Show off somehow.

“I know,” she says. She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “Not sure if you’ve heard, but you’re actually a very famous rockstar, and we’re all here because of you.”

“Not all because of me,” he says. She starts on his mouth, and he goes on without moving his lips. “There’s the rest of the ‘and.”

“True,” she says. “There’s always the rest of the and.”

He starts to grin at her, and she taps him on the nose with the end of her brush until he stops. 

“Band,” he says. “I meant band.”

“I know what you meant,” she says. “You’re just lucky I –”

But just then, they call for places, and the rest of the crew pulls back from where they’d been fiddling with the set dressing. She caps the little pot of lip color and places it back in its slot in her bag, and he feels his heart do a flip in his chest as she gives him a last once over and deems him finished. 

“Chrissy,” she says before he has to ask. “My name’s Chrissy. It’s nice to meet you, Eddie.”

[also on ao3]

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Check out my fic, the Right Place in Time.

Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie getting weed for his headaches?

Just a little artwork for it. 🥰

[gunmetal-ring]

anon again. i'm sorry that i keep coming to you with this depressing messages but you seem like one of the few sane ppl in this fandom and i appreciate your honesty.

truth is im feeling really disillusioned with hellcheer lately. we don't have a lot of "canon" content so after a while, it gets tiring going thru the same 2 scenes over and over again (especially when one of them involves chrissy's death). ive been relying on fandom but it seems like it's slowed down. fics arent updated as frequently, not a lot of new artwork.

heck, even joe and grace have moved on. joe's career is taking off. grace is leaving acting. it just feels like everything that happened last summer has come to an end :(

Aw anon thats okay. Ty for thinking of my feelings though 💓 (and also im flattered that you think im sane lmao)

Unfortunately its the way things go, especially with small ships, especially especially in a fandom as hostile as this one is. People come together and build community and share their love for characters and then g(r)o(w) their separate ways again.

But not everybody does! You and me, for example. And ive got plenty of hellcheer mutuals that seem perfectly content to draw, write, and rb their little hearts out.

I for one am absolutely astounded that theres even a fandom for hellcheer, let alone one with such talent and breadth and depth of love! Our characters had 2 scenes. Our girl was killed just as it all began. Our boy died with her name on his lips. In all likelihood we will never see them together on our screens again.

But somehow. Those ~10 minutes managed to foster an entire community of people and keep us engaged and in love w the characters for almost a year at this point! With no dangling promises or false hope or anything! Like we all know the score and we still go hard for hellcheer. Incredible.

Idk maybe it's just bc ive only had brainworms like this for 2 other ships and 1 of them is even smaller and the other one is a clusterfuck of unimaginable proportions, so im a little biased in terms of community/fandom, but im just like... idk. I think its really incredible thats all. And a testament to the very real power and truth of hellcheer 🥰

All i can say anon is that the best way to keep a fandom/ship going is engagement. Likes on tumblr and kudos on ao3 are great. But whats even better and more motivating (and i say this as a fic writer/meme shitposter so im speaking the total truth lol) is reblogs and comments. Tell people how much you love their work and how much it means to you, it goes a very long way. And on the flip side of that - stay out of the infighting. All it does is sap your mental energy and the fandom infighting bullshit is a major contributor to why people leave. The negativity and bitterness warp your perspective and make it really hard to remember what we're here for - it's not anti-st*ddie or anti-qu*nn stans or anti-anti-hellcheer or what the fuck ever. We're here for hellcheer!

Sorry my $0.02 is now $2.00 bc i ramble lol its a fatal flaw of mine. Anyway im sorry if this is annoyingly positive or dismissive but im in a strangely upbeat mood rn so there you have it

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

Absolutely stunning HELLCHEER WEDDING by the fantastic @mavortis

Commissioned for my fic With a Little Help From My Friends

[baddreamsandoldbones]

Hellcheer Week Day 2 - Ghost Hunting

Buffy AU part 2 - Eddie actually makes his appearance in this one! @hellcheerweek

They go back to school after dark. 

“This is a bad idea,” Jonathan says nervously, hitching the bag higher up his shoulder. Robin just scowls from under her beanie. 

“We can keep letting the ghost run rampant if you want,” Robin says and she doesn’t look like someone with a heavy destiny and supernatural powers. For starters, her socks have pink flamingos on them. 

But nearly a month after she’s joined the group, Chrissy is beginning to understand that the Slayerettes are less of a well oiled crack team and more of a strange group of misfits. But since she’s been a part of the team, they’ve stopped two demons, one gremlin and more vampires than she can count. She hadn’t known that Hawkins was such a hotbed of supernatural activity…and to be honest, she kind of misses the ignorance. 

Her friends have started to question it all - her frequent leaving parties early, or not showing up at all, or how often she slips away to go to the library. But she can’t tell them anything, because they’d never believe her.  Sometimes, she can’t even believe it herself.

“No, thank you,” Steve says with a shudder. “The dead bugs in the meatloaf were bad enough once. There’s a long way to go to Graduation.”

“Agreed,” Chrissy says, trying not to think about the crunch it had made when unsuspecting students bit down. Robin just looks up at the dark shape of the school and sighs. 

“Let’s go then,” she says ruefully and they all traipse after her through the doors. 

The school is no less terrifying inside - pictures and artwork on the walls looking eerie in the dim glow of the safety lights, the lockers lined along the corridor like tombstones. Chrissy stops at the display by the front door, containing the trophies for the Tigers. She catches a glimpse of herself in a photograph, grinning in her cheerleading uniform. 

That Chrissy had a much simpler life. 

“Okay,” Robin says, keeping her voice low. The school is meant to be empty but there’s no guarantees. There’s always the chance of a janitor or the vice principal working late. “As we discussed. Downstairs to the basement. We find this dress that the bitch is possessing, we burn it and say the spell. School is cleansed and we go home.”

“You hope,” Murray says darkly, as they set off down the corridor. Chrissy doesn’t miss how the five of them cluster together, shining torches over every little thing. The basement feels a long way off. 

“I can’t believe we’re here to purge a ghost who got angry about the school's production of Grease,” Jonathan mutters as they reach the door to the basement. Robin pushes it open and they all slink down the stairs. The Hawkins High basement is creepy at the best of times, a strange labyrinth of storage rooms, closets, and spare classrooms. They hold detention down here, run some clubs out of the unused classrooms and the drama club notoriously stores every prop or costume ever used in a school play down here. 

“Not necessarily true,” Murray corrects, juggling his bags so that the jars clink against one another. “It’s hard to say what makes a spirit ‘wake up.’ The deceased in question died down here - she helped found the school’s drama club, which is how we know that the item she’s tied to is very likely to be something she used or touched back then. But dozens of plays have been performed here since the eighties…anything else could be the cause.”

“I don’t really think I want to find out,” Steve says as they arrive at the bottom of the stairs to another door. “What’s the plan here? The drama club has so much shit it might take us until morning to search through it all.”

“We want to start with the older rooms,” Jonathan pipes up. “The ones by the boiler. It’s all part of the original school when it was built in the sixties. It was only expanded after our spook died, so anything she would have used would be in there.”

“Not bad,” Murray says approvingly and Jonathan ducks his head at the attention. 

“My mom went here,” he explains sheepishly. “I asked her about it.”

“We’ll do as Jonathan said,” Robin says, resting her hand on the door. She looks the most at ease of all of them but so would Chrissy if she had super strength and reflexes. “I’ll go with Murray and you three go together. Don’t separate and if you find anything, scream.”

“I’ll be doing that anyway,” Steve promises and Robin yanks open the door. 

Chrissy hates the basement, even during the day. Something about the long, dark corridors and stone walls makes her think of a prison. She’s glad she’s a cheerleader and not in the chess club or the D&D club, who all take meetings down here. To make matters worse, the overhead lights always flicker and no matter where you are, the faint rumble of the boiler can always be heard. Combine that with assorted exposed pipes, cracks, and stains, it’s a truly unpleasant place to be. 

The group drifts past the assorted classrooms, the extra cleaning cupboards and past the abundance of storage rooms. The faculty keeps everything down here - from spare chairs, to extra gym equipment and school supplies. The drama club never throws out anything that can be reused and pressed into service for another performance. 

The air grows stale and musty as they travel, moving towards the rarely used spaces near the boiler room and Chrissy clutches her torch until her palm grows sweaty. 

“Okay,” Robin whispers and gestures down one hallway. “You guys go that way. We’ll take these rooms. Find it quick, before our unwanted guest catches on that we’re here.”

Robin and Murray waste no time disappearing in the opposite direction but Jonathan, Steve and Chrissy all look at each other warily. 

“This is a bad idea,” Jonathan says miserably and they turn towards the first room. 

The abandoned prop room is something out of a horror movie - old sets, with the paint peeling away, costumes packed into boxes, masks hung from hooks. Chrissy reaches for the first box she sees and begins to dig through it. 

“We don’t have a real idea of what we’re looking for,” Steve says, sounding disgruntled. He scowls down at the box he’s just opened. “This is full of hats.”

“The item might be a hat,” Jonathan protests, crouched on the floor. “Remember that ghost at the museum?”

“Oh,” Steve says, furrowing his eyebrows at the memory of an encounter before Chrissy’s time. “That one was bad.”

Chrissy doesn’t prod for more detail, just works on digging to the bottom of the box as fast as she can and when that’s done, the next. Something terrible is prickling at the base of her spine, snaking long cold talons down her back. She hates this feeling - a strange side effect of being a seer. She doesn’t always need a vision to know that something bad is about to happen. 

“Chrissy?” Jonathan says, looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

But before she can answer there’s a sound in the hallway, just behind the closed door. Chrissy’s mouth suddenly feels strangely dry. Steve pushes himself to his feet and retrieves a prop hammer from the wall. Chances are in an actual fight it won’t do him much good, but Chrissy’s also seen him set a vampire on fire with a flick of his wrist. 

“Stay here,” he says in a low voice and Chrissy watches him duck out into the hallway with ice running through her veins. 

“What are the chances that sound was Murray and Robin?” she asks hopefully but Jonathan just shakes his head. 

“Not likely,” he says and looks back towards the door that Steve left ajar. “Shit. I’m going to go after him. Stay put. Do not leave this room.”

Chrissy nods, even though every pore in her body is screaming at him to not leave her alone. She’s seen this horror movie before.

She resumes her frenzied search, hoping that her abilities might guide her towards the right item. They are literally looking for an item in a haystack. They have several photos of the victim but there’s never a guarantee that what she’s wearing in those photos are the item that they need.

“Hey,” someone says and puts a hand on her shoulder. She’s not proud of the way she shrieks and spins around, so anxious with the tension and the quiet that she doesn’t realize it’s not a ghost until too late. 

“Sorry,” the guy says, holding up his hands. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?” 

Chrissy looks up at the dark shape in front of her, lit only by her torch which is spiraling around on the floor from where she’d dropped it. It takes her a beat to recognize the outline - the long hair, the chunky belt, the distinct t-shirt. 

“Yeah,” she says, even though she’s distinctly not. Whether that has to do with her current activities or Eddie Munson being down here, she doesn’t know. “I’m sorry. It’s creepy down here.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says and takes a few steps over to retrieve the torch, which is flickering angrily at the mistreatment of it. The beam passes over his face and if her heart skips a little, then no one has to know. 

“Why are you down here?” Chrissy asks, finally pulling herself together. The whole point of them coming back to school this late was to make sure that no one would see them and ask awkward questions. Slayerette duty almost always involves awkward questions. 

“The Hellfire Club meets down here,” Eddie says, smacking her torch against his palm. It stops flickering and he holds it up triumphantly. “I was working on a campaign after our meeting and I got carried away.”

“Thanks,” Chrissy says, taking the torch back. She doesn’t know where Jonathan and Steve have gone, and that worries her. Surely they wouldn’t have gone far, especially if the noise they heard was Eddie. “Was that you out in the corridor? The crash?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says sheepishly and there’s a leather bracelet hanging from his wrist, just visible under the hem of his sleeve. She tears her gaze away from it back to his face. “Sorry. Whacked into a bucket when I came down here to investigate the light. Speaking of, you know there’s actual lights in here, right?”

Chrissy follows the line of his finger to the bare lightbulb above their heads. But she can’t tell him the truth - that they didn’t turn on any lights so they could keep themselves hidden. 

“I wasn’t sure there would be one down here,” she says, resting her fingers on the crumpled edges of the box. She was only half done searching it.

“I see,” he says in bemusement. “And what exactly are you up to at this time of night? Not what I would have expected from the Queen of Hawkins High.” Chrissy flushes at his suggestive tone. 

“I….” she says and hesitates. What exactly is a good reason for snooping around in an old storage room in the basement, after school hours?

But her hand, still resting on the box, brushes against something soft and without any warning, piercing pain shoots through her skull. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, lurching forward to support her arm. Chrissy clings onto it with all her might, keeping a hand pressed against her temple, trying to breathe through the pain. “Are you okay?”

She’s not okay. The vision tearing through her head is agonizing, like a million knives driven into her scalp all at once. She will never get used to this, an unwanted force inside her mind.

Sometimes she wishes she hadn’t been chosen. She would have been content seeing regular visions like her mother, like her aunt, and her grandmother before them. She didn’t ask for this, to be special. 

“Chrissy!” someone shouts, before another hand is pressed against her back, supporting her. “What is it?”

“Is she okay? What’s wrong with her?” Eddie asks anxiously. Steve bends his head low to Chrissy’s ear, out of Eddie’s hearing. 

“Is it a vision?” he asks urgently and she moves her head a fraction. She hears him exhale and curse, but doesn’t open her eyes. She can’t. She knows from past experience that even the light from a torch beam is too bright, and will only make her headache worse. 

“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Eddie asks and he hasn’t let go of Chrissy’s arm. At any other moment, she might be able to appreciate that. “Harrington, what the fuck is going on?”

“It’s none of your business, Munson!” Steve bites back, but there’s only fear and worry in his voice. He knows what Chrissy’s visions mean and how they debilitate her. “How the fuck are you even down here?”

“What are you doing down here?” Eddie repeats and Chrissy just curls her hand even tighter around the item of clothing. 

“Steve!” she spits out and both boys immediately stop their bickering at the sound of her voice. “It’s this one!” Steve must see the item clutched in her hand because someone then gently pries it from her fingers. She lets it go, relieved. She was useful.

“Fuck. Okay, Munson, I need you to do something for me, no questions asked. Take Chrissy and get out of the school. Take her home.”

The pain finally begins to ebb away, releasing its vice-tight grip around her head. She leans gratefully into Eddie’s comforting grip and he almost instinctively wraps an arm around her. 

“Seriously, Harrington,” Eddie says, furiously. “Something fucked up is going on here...”

“You have no idea,” Steve says grimly and tightens his hand around Lucy Tarwell’s last connection to the mortal plane. They have to burn it and cast the ritual to force her out. Without Chrissy, they’ll have to manage but Steve was born a witch and Murray was trained as part of his journey to become a watcher. “Please, I’ll explain after. You have to get Chrissy out, it’s not safe…”

Steve is cut off by being thrown against the far wall and his pained cry echoes throughout the small room. Terrified, Chrissy clings onto Eddie. The ghost is here. 

“What the fuck…?” Eddie whispers, no doubt stunned by Steve being thrown like a ragdoll. To Chrissy’s relief, Steve groans fitfully and stirs from the wreckage of cardboard boxes and set pieces. He’s alive. 

But he might not be for much longer if they don’t do something. 

Chrissy has snatched the torch, headache be damned, to look for the soft faded pink of the cardigan amongst the debris. If they burn it, it can buy them some time. 

“We have to find that cardigan!” Chrissy insists, shining the torch across the room. Eddie just looks at her like she’s gone mad as she digs among the scattered boxes. 

“A cardigan?” he says, as the lights begin to flicker. 

“Chrissy!” Robin shouts, appearing in the doorway. It only takes her a second to take in the lights and her best friend lying in a heap. “Shit!”

“Get Steve!” Chrissy hollers back at no one in particular. The lights are messing with her, making it hard to find the damn cardigan when she’s thrown from bright light back into total darkness. 

“What the hell is Munson doing here?” Jonathan asks, stepping over the piles of scattered clothes to get to Steve. 

“Murray’s set up the circle in the other room!” Robin says urgently, dropping to her knees by Chrissy. 

“Pink cardigan, mother of pearl buttons,” Chrissy babbles, throwing clothes aside. “I saw it, I had a vision of her, standing right here…”

Jonathan has managed to get Steve upright, slinging their friend over one shoulder. “Find it quick!” he says, looking around anxiously. “Who knows how long we have before she decides to stop making the walls bleed fake blood.”

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters again and when Chrissy looks up, he’s standing stock still, staring at them all like they’re mad. 

“Munson, get out or help!” Robin snaps and Chrissy meets Eddie’s eyes before her hands sink into something hard and moving. 

She screams, yanking her hand away from the writhing, squirming cockroaches and even Robin blanches, lurching back away from the insects. Chrissy bats at her clothes, trying to get them off her, and someone else helps her brush a large one from her shoulder. 

“You’re okay,” Eddie says soothingly as she whimpers. “They’re gone.” When she looks down again, all that’s there is an old black cape. 

“Shit,” Robin says again, with a small shudder. Eddie looks down at the mess, still almost impossible to see under the dancing lights and joins them on the floor. 

“I expect an explanation after this, Buckley!” he says, and throws a set of clogs over his shoulder. 

“If we live, you can have one!” Robin shouts back. There’s no sign of Jonathan and Steve - they must have left the room while Chrissy was wrist deep in bugs. 

They search furiously, tearing through broken boxes and scattered clothes in silence. All the ghost has done so far is scare - minor possessions, blood seeping through the paint, a memorable math class where a snake had slid out of the cupboard - but Chrissy doesn’t know what she might do if she really feels threatened. 

They find out when Robin tugs the cardigan free with a triumphant shout. Chrissy looks over in time to see Robin’s face morph into one of terror when a face emerges from the neck hole: a small blonde head appearing first, followed by long curls, a pert nose and eyes pale and sunken. It looks all wrong, set in a normally hale and healthy face, and Chrissy wonders if that was how she’d looked when someone found her swinging from the light fixture. 

“Get out!” the face hisses, before Robin panics and punches her. The face dissipates, once again nothing more than something meant to scare. Unfortunately, she’s doing a good job. 

Eddie is the only one to have any sense, grabbing hold of Chrissy’s hand and then Robin’s and pulling them both out of the door. 

“Where do we go?” Eddie shouts and Robin tugs in the opposite direction, until they’re made to follow her, a strange chain snaking down the corridor. 

When they burst in the door of another storage room, Murray looks up, crouched over the symbols he’d been drawing in black paint over the floor. Steve is sitting up, one side of his pretty face turning black and blue, while Jonathan hurriedly lights candles. 

“Move, move, move!” Robin babbles and lobs the cardigan at Murray. He deftly throws it in the metal can and douses it in accelerant. 

“This might get a little messy,” Murray warns, as Robin sits at the edge of the circle. “Spirits can get a little volatile when the exorcism process is in motion.”

“More volatile?” Eddie asks in disbelief, before Murray gestures them over to the circle. 

“In, in,” he says hurriedly, and Chrissy pulls Eddie past the line of candles. “Whatever happens, don’t leave the circle.”

“It should protect us from most things,” Steve says wearily. He has blood in his hairline, clumping against the brown waves. He’ll need medical help after this. “Like being thrown into a wall. Again.”

Murray strikes the match, muttering furiously under his breath. Chrissy only recognises a few words, the few pieces of the exorcism spell that she does know. The match flickers as a strange wind blows in but holds and Murray drops it into the can. 

The screaming starts the moment the cardigan catches light. 

Steve tenses, like he can sense something they can’t. “She’s here,” he says grimly. 

She’s not what Chrissy expected for her first ghost. Solid, almost…human. It’s only the soft glow of her skin, the faintest flicker, like a TV set not quite connected properly, that gives her away. 

“She’s wearing the cardigan,” Eddie whispers, staring at the ghost with fascination. Chrissy swallows. Ghosts don’t usually wear what they were wearing when they died so the cardigan must have been a favorite item of clothing. Something that Lucy felt was tied to her sense of self, that made her feel alive. 

“Do it now, Murray,” Robin urges, because burning the item isn’t enough. That’s why they came equipped with chicken blood, smoke sticks, bones…all of the items needed for an exorcism. 

If they hadn’t found the cardigan, the item tying her to the school and life, there’s no guarantee that the exorcism would take. 

Murray chimes a bell, the sound high and sharp. He has to recite a lot of latin, write some symbols in blood and not get killed in the process. Chrissy might be making it up on that last part but hey, it is her first exorcism. 

The ghost begins to scream again and Chrissy instinctively covers her ears. She can see Eddie next to her doing the same. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” Murray says, forging on. He unscrews the jar of blood and dips in a paintbrush. The circle they’re sitting in is for their protection - what Murray is about to do is to actively cast the ghost out. The latin incantation is long and Chrissy is really glad she doesn’t have to do it. “Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…”

Lucy’s screams become so loud that Chrissy can barely hear Murray’s words. There’s a strange wind whipping through the room, scattering debris and sending the lampshades swaying. Whatever protection magic that Steve and Murray setup seems to be working as inside of the circle is quiet and still. Shame it doesn’t work to block out Lucy’s screams. 

Murray is dropping items into the cauldron on top of the burning cardigan, still chanting. Robin is handing him items, the only one able to still focus amongst the chaos. 

“Domine expuere, domine expuere,” Murray continues, raising his voice to be heard over the howling wind and the unholy screaming. Chrissy cracks open an eye and Lucy no longer looks so solid or so human. There’s a strange white light in her eyes, under her skin, and she doesn’t know if it’s Lucy trying to scare them or the exorcism taking hold. 

“Unde abeo…” Murray shouts, striking a match. It flickers but holds and Murray holds it aloft. “Dei per, te rogamus, audi nos!”

The match lands in the cauldron, and the light that comes from within isn’t natural. Chrissy shuts her eyes again against the harsh flash of bright white light. It only gets brighter, burning against her closed eyelids until it fills the entire room. And then when Chrissy thinks that they’ve made a mistake, that something has gone wrong, the light fades back in on itself.

The overhead lights go out with a sharp crack and Chrissy covers her head against the blown glass. Her heart is pounding but there’s no strange smells, no cold breeze on the back of her neck. She slowly raises her head to find they’re sitting in total darkness. 

“Well,” Murray says pleasantly and turns on a torch. His voice sounds rough from having to scream the last part of the exorcism but otherwise he looks no worse for wear. “I think that went rather well.”

“Oh, did it?” Steve asks nastily, blood still clumping in his dark hair. Murray looks unconcerned. 

“I don’t have your natural talent and experience with the dark arts, Steven,” he says, putting the lid back on the jar of blood. “This is my third exorcism. So yes, quite well. No one died, did they?” he asks, when Steve continues to glare. 

“Maybe not but it was close,” Robin says ruefully. She pats Chrissy’s knee. “Thank God we had Chrissy to find the item so quickly.” Murray just beams. 

“I told you a Seer would be useful,” he says and cracks his fingers. “We’d better tidy up. The school board might panic if they see what they think is a site of satanic worship.”

Chrissy pulls herself up. She wishes there was light, just to be sure that the ghost is truly gone. She still feels like there’s ghostly fingers just waiting to grab her the moment she leaves the circle’s protection. 

But then Robin strides over the black symbols without a second thought. She grabs the other torches from their bags, flicking them on and distributing them. Jonathan helps Steve up, who is swaying slightly as he rises. 

“Does anyone want to explain it to me now?” Eddie demands furiously. Steve just presses a hand to his forehead, wincing when his fingers come away red. 

“Someone not needing a trip to the hospital can do it,” he says wearily. “Welcome to the club, Munson.”

[decadentworld]

tag game: stranger things addition 👻

Thank you @harringrove-heroes for tagging me.

1.ride or die ship (your otp): To be honest Harringrove and Steddie are a tie here but… see text below

2.most annoying ship: I don’t know if I find it annoying per se, but I’ve started to become annoyed by Steddie if it’s written in a specific way.

3.second favourite ship: Stonathan😁

4.favourite platonic relationship: Um… idk if this will sound controversial but I love to think of Hellcheer as a more platonic friendship😁 And also Billy & Heather!

5.underrated ship: Stonathan😁

6.overrated ship: … Steddie again (CEO of hating on my own faves)

7.one thing i would change in canon: K*ren gets treated like the groomer she is and not a cougar MILF uwu feminist icon💁‍♀️

8.something canon did right: Um. None lol

9.a thing i'm proud of creating for the fandom PLEASE BRAG ABOUT YOURSELF I WANT TO SEE/READ YOUR ART: This Kas Eddie artwork and this Lucas artwork ft. Patrick😁

10.a character who is perfect to me (wouldn't change a thing): Actually🤓☝️ no character in Stranger Things is perfect and that’s what makes all of them interesting. I can admit that even the ones I hate the most can have interesting plots as much as I might hate to say it, because a lot of the things that don’t make sense about a character are a direct fault of the writers and maybe even the higher-ups in N*tflix, given that they’re usually extremely out of touch with reality and can oversee or think that something that’s fucked up in real life (like thinking grooming a teenager is fine and/or sexy) is normal/logical or that people are going to think it’s normal as well; hell, if they hadn’t gone down that path with Karen she would’ve been one of my favorite characters but as it stands I can only say that I like my faves because they can have complex, imperfect stories, and as for other characters, I can handpick little things here and there that interest me even if I hate those characters.

Just kidding it’s Patrick Lucas and Chrissy

11.the character i relate to the most and why: No one really lmao. Maybe Jonathan because socially awkward besties🤝

12.character i hate the most and why: Karen and Neil, no explanation needed.

13.something i've learned from the fandom: Many of the people in the fandom have really selective ‘critical’ thinking or none at all. As in, will say an abused 18-year-old who sacrifices himself for others in the end is somehow worse than a pedophile or a child abuser/womanbeater or someone who tortures kids. I wasn’t on Tumblr for this but apparently people were hating on Will when he was possessed? So… yeah.

14.three tags i seek out on ao3: Umm… Billy Hargrove & Maxine “Max” Mayfield, Billy Hargrove Needs A Hug😔 I don’t remember any more (<-liar)

15.a song i strongly associate with my otp/favourite character: Soldier’s prayer – Timo Tolkki for Billy. Emerald Sword – Rhapsody of Fire for Eddie. On niin helppoo olla onnellinen – Olavi Uusivirta for Jonathan. Also Glory Days – Stratovarius for Lucas but it must be because I put it as background music for a process reel of an artwork of him I made😁

Tagging: (no pressure tags) @hellfirefucker , @orchidmunson , @boldlyshadowytrash , @c-nstellati-ns , @raincloudxyx , @killthepurplemusic , @lilacdesired and anyone else who wants to do this…!

[billybigbang2024]

The Billy Big Bang posting season starts on November 1st and Team #5 will be posting their collaboration through November 20th! The banner and artwork is by @akichania / Akichania and the fic is by @medusapelagia / Medusapelagia, betaed by @ghostdeb! Be careful or the little preview below might pull you in just like their collaboration will!

Fic Title: A Magnet For Trouble

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings:  Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationships:  Billy Hargrove/Jason Carver, implied Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham

Characters:   Jason Carver, Billy Hargrove, Chrissy Cunningham, Heather Holloway, Robin Buckley, Max Mayfield, Original Characters

Additional Tags:  Alternative Universe - no upside down, Modern Setting, Angst with Happy Ending, reference to domestic violence, Tattoo Artist Billy Hargrove, Policeman Jason Carver, Chrissy Cunnigham and Jason Carver are cousins, Attempted Armed Robbery, Blood and Injuries, Whump, Injuries Recovery, Smut,  Falling in love, from friends with benefit to lovers, Tattoos, Max’s father is Italian because I say so

Length: 27k

Summary:

Being a policeman isn’t easy, but some days are extremely harsh. After a bad shift, Jason Carver finds himself wandering in a night club, trying to forget about his problems, and there he meets the most beautiful man he has ever seen. 

Billy Hargrove is a tattoo artist, proud of his queerness, and even if he finds the young policeman attractive, he’s not going to fall for a closeted guy, but there’s nothing wrong with having some fun under the sheets. The important thing is to keep sex and love separated.

Everything changes when an armed man tries to rob Billy’s tattoo shop, Jason gets hurt and the line between sex and love becomes blurred.

[chrissyslittleartwork]

Despite it being over a week since he passed, a lot of people are still in disbelief about it. I'm honestly still shocked that he is gone myself. As I have mentioned before, YGO was my first ever fandom and my childhood. I remember watching the 4kids dub episodes and enjoying them so much. I even remember asking my parents to get me a few of the manga books to which they did give me the third of the first season series. It was honestly the start of me drawing and even my first ever characters to be created. Even though I would tend to fall out of love with it a couple of times, I ended up coming back to it. Especially when I lost my father a couple of years ago. It helped me slowly heal over such a devastating loss because I loved my dad so much. And now, the man who created something that helped me heal is also gone. Is this what they call cruel irony?

...which is why I decided to draw this. A tribute of my own of Mr. Takahashi himself with my top favorite character of his and his top favorite. Pharaoh Atem is still considered my favorite of the whole YGO cast and I love him because of what a strong and kind character he can be. Mr. Takahashi has mentioned a few times that Joey aka Jonouchi Katsuya is the best character he ever created and his favorite. And I can see why. I love the arc Joey goes through of how he starts off as a bully but becomes a good loyal friend and a strong duelist. Which is why I felt it was appropriate to draw him with Mr. Takahashi himself.

I know I will continue to draw his characters in his honor since they really did help me and he did as well. Thank you so much for everything, Kazuki Takahashi. May the good Lord bless you and watch over you while you rest in peace. It's time to duel!

Joey & Atem (c) Kazuki Takahashi

Art (c) me. Please DO NOT steal, recolor, or repost. My artwork and characters are protected by the intellectual property rights law. Therefore, if I see anyone who has taken my art, I will report the person. No exceptions.