#DUSTIN'S BIRTHDAY CONFIRMED????

[stranger-chichka]

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strangerthingspuzzletales: Join us in wishing Dustin a very Happy Birthday today! 🎂

[scoops-aboy86]

Steve as a late night radio DJ, with Robin as his producer (because my partner has made me watch so much Frasier lol). He's got the sexy voice and Eddie, frontman of successful metal band Corroded Coffin, still remembers him from Hawkins and, ugh.

But, well, his manager set up the interview and it would cause more of a stir to no-show than it would to turn up and bicker with some washed up former high school bully. It's a different city, a different decade; maybe King Steve won't even remember him.

So Eddie turns up, and he actually beats Steve there. To the point of the show starting and it's just him in the booth, chatting awkwardly with Robin to fill the air. It gets less awkward the more they talk, idly catching up on old small town bullshit and what it's like to go from isolated baby queers ("I thought I was totally alone!" "Really? You didn't clock the black bandana hanging out of my pocket for five of my six years in high school?" "Sorry old timer, I was still in middle school for part of that." "Oh fuck off, Ms. 'I went to Sarah Lawrence and all I got was this awesome girlfriend.'" "Sorry Eddie, we can't all be super late bloomers like you.") to Actually Successful And Functioning Adults. (She's kind enough not to mention his single but unfortunately well known brush with rehab, other than to congratulate him on his seven year chip.)

And then Steve bursts in, huffing and puffing and diving for the headphones and mic to apologize to both them and the audience for being late. He doesn't even try to offer an excuse until Robin asks, "Uh, Steve? Want to share with us why your arm's in a sling and one of your eyebrows looks like it got flambéd right off your face?"

Which turns into a very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson ("Oh damn, Henderson! I fell outta touch with him ages ago. How is that little shit?" "Married. He didn't end up converting to Mormonism, but they still have enough kids to make up half a basketball team." "Is that... a lot?" "Six, Munson. They have six kids." "Which is funny, because he made soooo much fun of Steve for wanting that many back in the day." "Yeah. Showed him." "Fuck, my condolences to his wife if they all inherited his big head. You gotta give me his number after this. Or—DUSTIN, if you're listening to your babysitter's show, come to my next concert and there'll be two backstage passes with your name on it! Or, well, that embarrassing nickname your radio girlfriend used to call you, since I think I've blurted out your full government name by now." "That girlfriend is actually his wife now." "No shit?! Wow, I can't believe one of my little lost sheepies has managed to keep the same girl for over a decade. Is she really hotter than Phoebe Cates?" "Oh, she is smokin." "Robin, don't make it weird." "Oh it's okay, she already knows. I told her.") ... A very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson coming over to discuss plans for Ma Henderson's birthday, and bringing a cherries jubilee that Suzie had made so he could literally demonstrate the flambé presentation ("Listeners, I swear I did not know, when I asked Steve about his flambéd eyebrow, that it was a literal flambé accident. Eddie, can you confirm?" "I can confirm, Robin. We received no heads-up calls or messages from Steve before or during the show. It was serendipitous irony, 100% pure.") but poured waaaaay too much brandy on, and then Steve tripped in his mad dash for the fire extinguisher ("He was no help at all, just stopped dropped and rolled right there in the middle of the damn kitchen." "How are his eyebrows?" "Ugh, I have more of them than he does right now but at least his match. Don't worry everyone, he's fine. No nerds were injured in the course of this improv slapstick comedy routine that is my life. I swear to god, I need a girlfriend or a boyfriend or someone reasonable to hang out with besides all you weirdos." "Aw, you love us." "Yeah Stevie, what would you do without your loving nerd squad?" "Yeah, yeah... But don't try to leave yourself out of this Munson, as far as I'm concerned you're still the king of all nerds. And if you're reconnecting with Dustin, you're stuck with us too.") and had to stop by urgent care on the way to work.

Throughout all of this, Eddie is not twirling a lock of hair around one finger... but only because it's tied haphazardly back to keep it out of his face for the day. Steve is different from the guy he remembers strutting the halls of Hawkins High. Still all freckles and hair and charismatic grin, but he carries himself differently. More solidly built in his mid-thirties than his late teens, with a layer of softness that suits him. Calmer and settled, with the kind of confidence that comes with growing up. And the girlfriend or boyfriend thing? Holy shit. Holy shit. King Steve? Who knew? But, well, it explains why Steve and Robin are so close, Eddie guesses.

The Steve Harrington that Eddie had known back in the day hadn't exactly been the worst of the bullies, but he'd been friends with them, and they had spouted plenty of homophobic shit. And Steve had been looking right at him as he'd said it, like he's aware that Eddie is terminally single and maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of a question in his eyes.

Eddie has been publicly out for a while now, and the thing is... Steve is definitely his type. So he leans into it a little, testing the waters. And Steve responds to it like a sunflower greeting the sunrise.

By the end of the show Robin is slapping post-its on the glass partition that read "Get his number dingus" and "Get a room" and Don't make that face at me, yes I do know that he can see these too and I don't care, GET IT or I will recruit Dusty-dun to my cause" and "To clarify, the cause is getting you laid. Eddie, take note, he's allergic to latex."

Permanent tag list (ask to be added, but since I have gotten an influx of new followers lately just know that I write a lot of weight gain kink so like... just be aware): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

[corroded-hellfire]

Finally His Year - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collab with my soulmate @munson-blurbs 🩵

Summary: It’s Eddie’s birthday and what he really wants is you.

Note: In honor of JQ’s 30th birthday woohoo 🎉

Words: 4.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The Munson house is buzzing when you arrive. There are three unfamiliar cars parked in front of it, probably from the other people celebrating Eddie’s birthday with him. You have his gift tucked under your arm and a Tupperware of raspberry and white chocolate chip cookies in that same hand, using the free one to ring the doorbell. 

You barely have time to pull your forefinger back before the door swings open. Luke peeks his head around, grinning when he sees you standing there. 

“Good evening, madam-a-zell,” he says in a vague concoction of European accents—none of them even resembling French. “May I take your—ooh, cookies!”

Laughing, you reach over and ruffle his mop of curls. “These are for Daddy, Luke-miere.” When his face falls, you quickly add, “but maybe he’ll share.”

This placates him, and he skips off to announce your arrival. As soon as he says your name, you hear the sound of Eddie’s feet shuffling towards the entryway. 

“You made it!” He says with a huge smile. In your dreams, he pulls you in for a hug and kisses you tenderly. But this is real life, so he just stands with his hands in his pockets. 

“I made it,” you agree awkwardly. It takes a moment for you to remember everything you’re holding. “Oh, these are all for you.” You maneuver it all, handing him the cylindrical tube and then the plastic container. Luke loudly clears his throat, and you grin. “Unless you feel like sharing the cookies.”

Eddie takes the presents, shaking his head at his younger son’s interruption. “I’ll consider it. Thank you, Sweetheart.”

That stupid nickname. You love and hate it; as much as he calls you that, you know you’re not his sweetheart. Because he’s married. 

His wife—God, you hated that she held that title—was sipping a full glass of wine. Though she’s standing next to Nancy, the two aren’t exchanging any words. 

You should go over there. Brittany is technically one of your employers, so it’s best not to rock the boat. Unless, of course, you could ensure she’d fall overboard. 

Plastering a feigned smile on your face, you walk over to her. Before you can even get out a hello, she points towards Ryan and Luke. 

“They have to go to bed at nine o’clock, so just have them in their pajamas with their teeth brushed by then.”

Embarrassment crawls under your skin. “Oh, I, um, I’m actually here for the party. Not to babysit.”

Brittany doesn’t seem thrown off at all; she just rolls her eyes and turns to Nancy. “Didn’t realize people still needed parties after they turned thirty,” she quips. 

To her credit, Nancy just shrugs and walks to you, ignoring the snark hurled your way. She guides you over to where the rest of the group is chatting. 

“Can you say, ‘Uncle Dusty’?” Dustin asks little Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair, gently bouncing her in his arms. “C’mon…Un-kul Duh-stee!”

“Elmo!” Tiffany claps her chubby hands together gleefully, unbothered by Dustin’s frustration. 

“I think your kid’s broken,” he grumbles, handing the little girl back to Lucas. 

“She was fine until you held her,” Lucas quips as he holds his daughter against his chest.

“Or maybe she just thinks you look like Elmo,” Steve offers with a shrug. 

“What is this, high school?” Dustin asks, looking between his friends. “Ganging up on me?”

Eddie shakes his head and gives a loud tsk. 

“It’s because you’re not part of the club, Henderson.”

“Oh, because I’m not a dad?” Dustin asks, gesturing with a motion that looks very similar to jazz hands. “That’s fine. Because I’m the coolest uncle these kids have. Someone has to be that figure in their lives.”

“Are they always like this?” you ask Nancy with an amused chuckle.

“Since high school,” Nancy confirms with a sigh. “The sad thing is, I can see how they’ve matured since then.”

You giggle at her response before there’s a weighted thunk against the front of your legs. Ryan’s chocolate eyes peer up at you, a huge grin on his round face. 

“Well hello, you,” you greet him, reaching down to ruffle his honey colored hair. 

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Ryan cheers. Warmth spreads in your chest at his words. You’re touched until he opens his mouth again to ask, “Luke said you brought cookies?”

“I did,” you tell him, tugging on a lock of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. “But they’re for your dad. It’s up to him if he wants to share with you guys.” Of course he will, you think to yourself. Eddie loves these boys more than Luke loves his Hot Wheels collection; and as you’re reminded by the five-year-old almost every day you babysit, that’s a lot. 

“Maybe after he opens his presents,” Ryan muses, more to himself than you. “Or after we have the cake Aunt Nancy made.

“Ryan!”

A little girl’s call echoes around the room. The older Munson boy gives you a quick smile before running towards the kitchen where Natalie Harrington is drawing a picture. 

Something Ryan said sticks in your brain though. You turn towards Nancy, brow pinching slightly.

“You made Eddie’s cake?” you ask. 

The deep breath Nancy takes lets you know there’s more to the story than she’s probably going to tell you. After all, she hardly knows you. The two of you had only met a handful of times since you started watching the boys last year and none of the visits were particularly long. It's an annoyed sigh that Nancy heaves out, her petite shoulders falling with the release. She’s not annoyed at you, if her kindness and body language towards you are anything to go on. So, what’s got her so tense?

“I did,” Nancy affirms. She’s quiet for a moment and at first you think that’s all she’s going to say. But the way her head bobbles slightly from side to side and her jaw muscles tighten and release, you can tell she’s picking her words carefully before she speaks. To her, you’re her friend’s employee so how much should she reveal? “Steve, um, called Eddie yesterday morning to confirm the time for the party today. Eddie was headed out the door just as Steve called. He said he was going to the grocery store. To buy his own birthday cake.”

“His own? Why couldn’t his wife get it? Or better yet, why didn’t she make one for him with the boys?” Your mind floats back to when you and the boys made a cake for Ryan’s birthday over the summer. It was messy and overly sweet, but the love and care put into it are what made it special. 

“That’s what I said,” Nancy grits out through a clenched jaw. After a few moments, you see Nancy’s body deflate. The tension rolls off her like a wave returning to the sea. “So, I made him one. Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.”

“Carrot cake?” you ask, wrinkling up your nose. It’s not that you disliked the dessert, it just wasn’t what you would’ve pegged Eddie for on his birthday. 

“I know,” Nancy says with a small chuckle. She shakes her head in amusement, wavy locks of hair swaying at the movement. “He can’t be typical, right? Not chocolate or vanilla—or even strawberry, but carrot cake. That’s Eddie for ya.”

The party continues with casual conversations: milestones Tiffany is meeting, work updates for the “kids” (who were now full-fledged adults, but would always be freshmen to Eddie), and a tentatively scheduled reunion for their high school Dungeons & Dragons club. It only came to a stop when there was a crash in the kitchen. 

Everyone’s heads whipped around at the sound, worried that one of the Munson or Harrington children was causing chaos, but the reason for the clamor was none other than Brittany. She’d dropped the cheese and cracker board on the ground and was laughing like she’d just heard the funniest joke. 

“Oopsie daisy!” She cackles, nearly falling over with the force of her laugh. While the rest of you had been casually sipping wine or beer, she had been drinking like she was at a frat party. 

“Jesus,” Nancy mutters under her breath. 

Eddie glances at Steve, who nods at Lucas, and the two of them step in towards Brittany. 

“C’mon, time for bed, Britt,” Steve says as patiently as he can manage. He hooks an arm around her, and Lucas does the same on the other side. It’s obvious that this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. A well-oiled machine, ensuring that the kids are none the wiser.

Small miracles, you suppose. 

“We can do presents when they get back,” Max jumps in, trying to keep the attention away from the drunk woman stumbling away. 

Eddie nods in agreement, collecting the various gifts from the kitchen table and placing them next to his spot on the sofa. When he sits, he spreads his legs enough that you can imagine yourself between them, pressing kisses up his thighs to his—

No. Stop it. 

When Steve and Lucas return, Eddie reaches for the first package. Though the room is filled with excited murmurs and crinkling wrapping paper, you can still make out the quiet conversation between Nancy and her husband. 

“Did you hold a pillow over her head?”

“No, Nance.”

“Damn it.”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a smile. 

Eddie pulls out a pair of sneakers from the box: white with a black check mark on the side. He immediately slides them on his feet, wiggling his toes around to ensure enough room. “These are perfect! My old ones were falling apart.”

“We know,” Nancy says wryly as Steve proudly announces, “You said you liked mine, so I got you the same ones.”

“Aww!” Dustin coos, pursing his lips exaggeratedly. “You guys are twins!

Eddie discreetly flips him off before continuing through his stash. Theo and Natalie Harrington made him woven friendship bracelets, which he immediately slid onto his left wrist. When he opens Dustin’s gift, a mug printed with the words “rock ‘n roll” underneath a cartoon rock and dinner roll, Wayne proclaims that it’s even cornier than the ones in the trailer. 

Eddie’s face lights up at the present from Max and Lucas—a new Walkman and some heavy metal cassettes. 

A pit forms in your stomach: is your gift going to be enough? Will he even like it? Was this whole thing a bad—

“Holy shit.”

You look up to see Eddie staring awestruck at the now-unwrapped present; specifically, the present you got for him. It’s an autographed Metallica poster that you’d spotted at the mall months ago, before his birthday was even a consideration. You’d bought it and kept it safely in your room, waiting for the perfect time to give it to him. 

“Sweetheart, this is…” He just shakes his head, blinking misty eyes. “Wow. I, um…thank you,” he finally manages. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had seen that same poster just last week. He had Brittany’s shopping bags clutched in his hands when he walked towards the record store. 

Kirk Hammett’s signature called to him like a siren. 

Eddie was just about ready to pay for it when Brittany marched over, plucking it from his grip and mumbling something about not having room for any more of his stupid music shit. 

That had been the end of that. 

“You’re welcome,” you say with a small shrug, as if it was nothing at all. “I saw it and immediately thought of you.” That wasn’t too much to say, right? It’s normal to think of someone when you see something you know they’d love, right? Even if that person is your boss?

Once Luke stops scavenging through his father’s presents like one might be hidden there for him, he looks up at his dad with wide, pleading eyes that he most definitely inherited from the man. 

“Time for caaaake?”

Eddie snorts and playfully rolls his eyes. A ringed hand comes down to ruffle the little boy’s curls.

“I guess we could have cake now.”

The Munson boys and the Harrington sibling duo cheer in excitement and beat everyone else into the kitchen. All you can hear as the kids disappear into the next room is an I’m okay! from Luke.

Steve taps you on the shoulder as you step over the threshold into the kitchen.

“Hey, could you give me a hand with the cake?” he asks. 

“Sure.” You follow Steve over to the refrigerator, silently wondering how many women had actually denied the handsome man anything when he asked in such a smooth voice. 

The cake looks delicious as Steve pulls it out of the fridge. Nancy definitely put in some work to make sure it turned out this lovely. The cream cheese frosting is smooth on all sides with delicate piping lining the edge of the rectangular sheet cake. In a beautiful scrawl that is far nicer than your own handwriting, she had written “Happy Birthday Eddie!” in black gel icing. 

Steve sets the cake down on the gray granite counter and reaches for a drugstore bag that has a pack of candles and a lighter in it. The two of you work as a team to plug the cake with the multicolored striped sticks and take turns lighting different sides of the cake. 

“You got it?” Steve asks as he steps over towards the light switches on the wall.

“Yep,” you assure him as you carefully lift the flaming desert off the counter. Turning around to face the table proves the most difficult part as you slowly spin your body while keeping the cake steady. 

Eddie is seated at the table, kids surrounding him on all sides as they clamor about what’s taking so long with the cake. Taking so long? You thought you and Steve worked pretty efficiently together. 

“Watch out rugrats,” Dustin says, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder and pulling him out of your way. 

You give the curly haired man a grateful smile before you slide the cake onto the table right in front of Eddie. As you go to pull your arms away, pale, calloused fingers reach up and rest against your skin for a moment.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Eddie says. 

All you did was carry a cake over but you’re more than glad to receive praise from your boss any time that you can. 

Steve flips the kitchen lights off and everyone breaks into a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. Ryan stands right in front of you as you sing, and you rest your hands on his small shoulders. 

“Make a wish!” Luke calls from Dustin’s side once the singing ended. He watches as his dad purses his lips, thinking of a wish. The dim lighting in the room may be playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn Eddie’s eyes flickered over to you before he took a deep breath and blew out all thirty-something of the candles on the first try. 

“Yay!” Luke cheers while everyone else claps. “Whatcha wish for?”

Ryan scoffs and rolls his eyes at his little brother. “He can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

“For my last birthday I wished for a pet,” Luke says. 

“Is that why you dug up the worm in the backyard?” Eddie asks.

“Yep,” Luke announces, a proud smile on his face. 

“Wormy Munson is missed,” Ryan says, patting his little brother’s shoulder. 

The attention quickly turns from squiggly little pets when Nancy asks the room, “Who wants a piece?”

“Me!” Four children’s hands shoot up at the same time, but Nancy just shakes her head at them.

“Birthday boy gets first crack at it,” she says as she slices a piece and transfers it to a Darth Vader paper plate. Nancy delivers that and a plastic fork to Eddie before returning to the counter to cut slices for the rest of the guests. 

When you get your piece of cake, you slip into a seat next to Eddie’s at the table. 

“So, carrot cake, huh?” you ask him with a playful smirk on your face. 

“Hey, gotta get vegetables into these kids somehow,” Eddie says, reaching behind him to tickle Ryan’s belly. The older boy laughs and moves out of his dad’s reach. 

“Broccoli brownies next?” you ask, a shit eating grin on your face before you pop a chunk of cake into your mouth.

“Such a smart ass,” Eddie teases, scooping some of his icing onto his pinky and wiping it off on the tip of your nose. Both boys giggle as you try to reach it with your tongue, trying to stretch it out as far as possible to lick it off. Though the boys found it funny, Eddie had an entirely different feeling wash over him as he watched your tongue snake out to try and lick the white substance off your face. His pants tighten and Eddie shifts in his seat, trying to hide his crotch further beneath the table. 

Guests drift in and out of the kitchen with their plates of cake, mingling with one another out in the living room. You offer to collect the paper plates up for the garbage once everyone is done. You’re carrying the stack back towards the kitchen when you hear Steve and Eddie having a conversation in there. It’s pretty clear this is just meant to be between them, but when you hear Steve’s question to his best friend, your feet become glued to the floor. 

“Think you’ll finally get lucky tonight since it’s your birthday?” 

Eddie snorts. “It doesn’t seem like it.” You can practically picture him nodding his head in the direction of his bedroom where Brittany is probably snoring her ass off as she sleeps off her alcohol. You really hope she has a hangover tomorrow. 

“Not what I meant, dude,” Steve replies.

This catches you off guard. Who could Steve possibly be talking about if not Brittany? Does… A sickening thought winds its way through your brain, claws taking hold in those places that are already prone to insecurities. Does Eddie have a girlfriend? It’s not like you would judge him for it after Brittany’s whoring around is common knowledge. But it drives an ice pick through your heart just picturing Eddie with his own awful, evil wife. Knowing he might be with someone who could be kind and caring should comfort you—but it doesn’t. It makes you want to tear your skin off to think of Eddie with anyone else but you. Because if he wasn’t going to be with Brittany, you wanted him to be with you. And if you didn’t even get a chance to show him what the two of you could be together? The idea threatened to destroy you. 

“Watch it Harrington,” Eddie answers Steve, his voice low. It’s the closest thing to a warning you’ve ever heard from him. 

A familiar toddler’s cry abruptly ends their conversation and your now-agonizing eavesdropping. Eddie shakes his head, giving Steve one last glare as he walks out of the kitchen, and looks over at a wailing Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair. 

Ryan scrunches his face. “Daddy, play her the song!”

“Yeah, play it!” Luke echoes, hands pressed to his ears. 

Now you’re intrigued. “What song?”

Eddie sighs. “Boys, I don’t think anyone wants to hear me play—”

“Au contraire,” Dustin butts in with a smirk. He hands Eddie his acoustic guitar, propped up in the corner. “I think we’d all love a little concert.”

Eddie gives you a look that pleads help me out here, but you’re already invested. 

“Concert! Concert!” You chant, laughing when the others join in. 

He doesn’t say anything, just slips the strap over his shoulder and quickly tunes the guitar. 

“If…you’re…happy and you know it, clap your hands!”

Everyone in the room claps twice. Everyone except Tiffany, who is still wailing. 

“If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands!”

Same result. 

“All right, all right. Let’s skip to a different verse.” Eddie takes in the baby’s squealing form. 

“If…you’re…angry and you know it, do a growl.” He lets out the most ridiculous roar you’ve ever heard, and you can’t help but laugh. 

From her mother’s arms, Tiffany lets out a roar of her own. Your giggle catches her attention, and she reaches out for you to hold her. 

For a moment, Eddie believes his heart is going to implode from the sweet scene in front of him. He wills himself to concentrate on playing, but the sight of you holding a baby girl weakens his resolve. How many times has he daydreamed about you holding his baby girl that he shares with you? Probably too many times on the job for someone who deals with heavy machinery. In his mind she has your hair and his eyes—though he knows she’d probably gets his curls since both boys have them to a degree.

Tiffany bounces in your arms, enraptured in the music. If Eddie plays Old MacDonald, she’ll be mind-blown. 

The soft timbre of Eddie’s voice, enthusiastic enough to capture Tiffany’s attention without riling her up, has your heart beating double time. Though you’ve known from the beginning that Eddie plays guitar, this is the first time you actually get to witness it. It’s as sexy as you’ve always imagined—even if he’s only playing nursery rhymes.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs as whatever had been bothering the little girl seemingly dissipates. He grins at Max and Lucas. “That should buy you about five minutes before the next meltdown.”

Sure enough, the crying starts up again, signaling the party’s end. Hugs are exchanged as everyone clears out; final “happy birthday’s” sent Eddie’s way.

There’s a small tug on your arm just as you’re about to grab your purse. “Can you tuck us into bed?” Ryan asks, eyes wide. Luke’s at his side, nodding in agreement. 

“Of course.” Always the babysitter, you think, but you truly enjoy being a part of their lives. The fact that they also enjoy it makes it even better.

The youngest Munson beams at you. “Maybe you can sleep over!”

“Uh, not this time. Sorry, kiddo.”

After teeth have been brushed and bedtime stories have been read, you retreat back to the kitchen. Eddie is clipping open bags of potato chips, and you start to gather any used paper platesto toss in the trash. 

“You don’t have to,” Eddie says, gesturing towards the stack of disposable cups in your hand. 

You cock your brow and smirk. “Do you really wanna clean all of this by yourself?”

“Fuck no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He smiles back at you, shaking his head when he notices icing smeared on the back of a kitchen chair. “Should’ve put the boys on clean-up duty” he grunts.

“Then everything would just get shoved under the couch and they’d call it a day,” you point out, and he readily agrees.

Once the floor has been swept and the leftover food has been placed in the refrigerator, you have no valid excuse to stay any longer.

“I should get going,” you say, plucking your keys from your bag and twirling the chain around your forefinger. “I hope you had a good birthday.”

Eddie nods as he walks with you to the front door. He holds it open for you, then follows you out to your car. “Yeah, it was great. Especially your gift. It, um, meant a lot.” A slight rosiness tinges his cheeks, and he pulls you in for a hug.

You return it easily, your arms wrapping around his torso. Both of you hold on a beat longer than necessary, but you can’t seem to pull away.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear. He leans in; for a moment, it seems like he’s going to kiss the top of your head, but he takes a step back. Eddie’s done it so many times in his mind before that he almost forgot he doesn’t get to do it in real life. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“I will.” You duck into your car, giving him a small wave before you pull out of the driveway. As you drive, you watch Eddie trudge back into the house from your rearview mirror.

Once he’s inside, he closes the door and breathes out a sigh. He adjusts himself over his pants, painfully aware that he’s half-hard from a simple hug. Looking towards the bedroom he shares with Brittany, he pivots away and beelines towards the Tupperware of cookies you’d made.

Taking a big bite, he chews thoughtfully, delaying the inevitable. If only he could curl up next to you instead of her. He chuckles at the insanity of the idea and takes another bite of cookie.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

[asongbirdandanoldhat]

written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pool’ wc: 442 | rated: G | cw: none

Eddie Munson nearly didn't make 21. But even before becoming a buffet spread for interdimensional hell bats, Eddie never would've imagined spending his 21st birthday at Steve Harrington's. After wide games in the woods with the world's most metal teens, having his pale skin preserved by Nancy's stern gaze and endless sunscreen supply, and somehow surviving the dreamlike vision of Steve, tanned, topless, and happy, Eddie was ready declare his birthday a roaring success. But the glint in Gareth's eye, the way Jeff was watching him while chatting to Buckley, had Eddie on edge. He surveyed the suspiciously quiet yard. Absences noted, Eddie's eyes met Dan's. He tilted his head in question. Dan's hands rose. Eddie honed in. He was great at charades. But before interpretations could begin, Gareth slapped Dan's hands down. His hissed words didn't carry, but the shake of his curly head was unmistakable. Whatever was afoot, the band were in on it. The kids shuffled back outside in an extremely conspicuous formation. Eddie thought they might be smuggling Harrington between them, before he spotted Steve in the doorway, watching them, expression fond. Dustin was vibrating. "Present time." "We already did presents," Eddie said. "Sure. But there's one left." "The big one," Lucas added. "Don't ruin it," Mike muttered. "I didn't say what it was." "Do I get to know what it is?" Eddie derailed, amused. Dustin nodded to Will, who carefully counted down, "Three, two, one." The boys stepped aside, revealing Max, holding his present, and El, holding Max's elbow. Eddie felt tears prickle, as he took in the unnecessarily wrapped gift. There was no mistaking the shape. "You bought me a guitar?" he croaked. El helped Max place the gift in Eddie's lap. His hands slid instinctively around it, the weight felt just right. "Open it," El instructed. Ripping the bright paper revealed a familiar x-shaped body, not the dappled red of his world-saving sweetheart, but a solid black. She was a starless night sky. She was beautiful. "I- How?" "We pooled our allowances." Eddie didn't know how much they got, but he knew how quickly they blew through it. There was no way. Eddie's eyes drifted beyond the kids, finding Steve.

Steve, who'd given Eddie a card, claiming that he didn't have a present yet, hadn't known what to get him. Steve, who'd looked embarrassed when Eddie had called the party a great present and meant it. Steve, whose guilty smile all but confirmed him as majority contributor to the beautiful instrument in Eddie's lap. Steve, who Eddie would have to find a way to thank, to explain what this meant.

For now, Eddie smiled back.

[fandsart]

Sickening Disparity

Sick-fic based on the comment @stevesbipanic made on this post

Steve was supposed to be here like a half an hour ago. He told Eddie he’d help him prepare some stuff for Wayne’s birthday tomorrow. Mostly the cake, since Eddie’s admittedly terrible in the kitchen. Especially baking. So when Steve offered to help it was a huge relief. He knew he could save some money on a store-bought cake for other activities for the day.

He really wants to be frustrated, but getting to know Steve over the past eight months, well, he wouldn’t just bail. He’s had people abandon him before to get other people—bullies—off of their backs, so it’s always something he’s paranoid about. It’s why he was so willing to drop Lucas from Hellfire, so sure that Lucas was down a path of the inevitable anyway, leaving the ‘light side’ behind. But he knows Steve has already been on the other end of the social curve. He already knows what he’s giving up and he’s talked about how glad he is to have dropped his social status. Giving him the benefit of the doubt he heads to the phone and calls Family Video, hoping he just got held up at work.

Only to hear from Kieth that Steve called off work that day.

The speed at which his thought process instantly goes straight from trying to talk himself out of judging Steve and being upset about being stood up– from telling himself that he knows Steve wouldn’t do that, to concern gave him mental whiplash. Something’s wrong. He calls Steve’s house three times before resorting to the walkie talkie.

“Has anyone seen Steve?”

“Have you checked his job?” Dustin voices back slowly like he’s talking to a child.

“I’m not an idiot. Kieth said he called in sick, but he’s not answering his home phone.”

“Yeah…” Lucas says, “it’s been getting colder out. If I were sick I wouldn’t want to wander away from his bed either.”

“Yeah, he’s probably just at home,” Dustin says. “You can check on him if you’re really worried, but if he called in sick he’s probably safe. If there was a serious emergency he’d let us know about any kind of code red at the same time.”

“I think he should check on him,” Lucas says. “He can’t be getting much better there.”

“That’s a good point. Eddie, can you bring him to your place maybe? At least pop by his place?”

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

When Lucas said that, Eddie had assumed he meant that Steve couldn’t be getting better all alone, especially if he didn’t want to leave his bed for whatever reason- well… Eddie thinks he knows why Steve might not want to leave his bed now. Especially if he was sick.

Because when Steve doesn’t answer the door, as expected really, and Eddie finds the door unlocked, upon entering he expects to feel the relief of heat flooding around him, only to find no temperature change at all. Which is just so unexpected. It’s not even 35 degrees out! Why would someone have their heat off right now? Even Wayne’s turned their heat on by now!

He still lives at his parents’ house doesn’t he?

“Steve!” he calls uncertainly. “Are you here?” At the lack of response he peaks out the door again to double check that he had seen Steve’s car on the way in. With the confirmation that it still sits in the driveway, he knows the chances of him not being here are slim.

Still, he rushes up to where he knows Steve’s room is from the few times he came over a few months ago. On that minuscule chance he’s not here, that would be a major cause for concern. He knocks on the bedroom door, not receiving an answer, but opens the door slowly at the subtle sound of shifting sheets. “Stevie? You doing ok?” His visible breath crosses the barrier to the room before he does.

“Eddie?” Steve croaks, poking his head out from the layers of covers where he was fully buried. He looks between Eddie and his clock. “Oh, shit… I swear I didn’t expect to sleep that long.”

“Jesus, Stevie, it’s freezing in here.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“‘Sorry about that?’”

“Well I didn’t exactly expect you to be here.”

“Ok, let me rephrase. Why is it so cold in here?”

Steve sighs. “This hasn’t really been an issue since high school, but I’ve been saving up for a deposit to get my own place.”

“What hasn’t been an issue since high school?”

“Heating and cooling expenses.”

“I don’t think I’m following. Why would you have issues with that in high school?”

Steve shrugs jerkily through the feverous shivers that wrack his body, burying deeper into his blankets. “My allowances were only so high. Things got easier once I got a job, but since I want to get my own place I’ll be at square one for a while.”

“I feel like… I’m lagging… You made more money at Scoops Ahoy than you got from your parents.”

“To be fair, most of my meals were provided by the school at the time. It only got really hard during the summer.”

“They didn’t-” he cuts himself off seeing Steve pull the comforters further up his face, covering his lips, which Eddie now realizes are purple. “Ok, we will continue this conversation later, but for now we’re taking you to my place. Now come on. The engine’s still running, so it should be nice and warm in the van.” Steve looks tempted, but hesitant, before sitting fully up with a large shudder.

The transfer from carpet to hardwood, then later concrete are hard to watch, but it’s definitely worth it when Steve sinks in the passenger seat of the van and relaxes. Not fully, but a hell of a lot better than what was going on before.

“I’m gonna lock up your place, alright?”

Steve gives a little hum and a nod. “Keys’re on my dresser.”

On his way out, Eddie heads to the kitchen with the intent on grabbing a vegetable or something. He knows those are good for when you’re sick and he figures anything Steve has will be better than whatever canned shit he and Wayne have at the trailer. Especially knowing what a cook Steve is, he makes the assumption that Steve keeps a large stock of things.The only things in the fridge are milk, butter, and eggs; all frozen.

Eddie swears under his breath as he shuts the fridge a tad harshly. All he finds in the freezer is ice. It gets the same treatment as the fridge. When he checks the cabinets he finds the stock of ingredients he’d initially assumed Steve would have but it’s all more baseline stuff. Flour, oats, salt, spices. He practically growls in frustration at the lack of resources on his way out the door.

He’s about ready to start questioning Steve again about this entire situation, only to find him asleep in the van.

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles as he puts the van into gear.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

The drive back gives him plenty of time to think about it. Usually he turns his music up loud enough to not have to think at all. That’s how he prefers it. But he doesn’t want to wake Steve up. So it plays at a low volume while Eddie goes over the facts in his head.

It’s Eddie’s second senior year, and Steve’s first, well, only senior year. Steve’s been less of a jerk the past few years, but Eddie can’t help but be annoyed when he hears Steve complain about needing new shoes. Because the thing is, Eddie just knows he’ll be getting a new pair by the next day. He must be setting up the idea in people’s minds so he doesn’t look so self centered when he goes around showing them off. Eddie rolls his eyes at the audacity and he’s standing on the table before he can stop himself

He looks at Steve, still wrapped up in the comforter, just his head and feet poking out. He didn’t bother grabbing his shoes on the way out. His socks are visibly wet now from the now melted snow that fell last night.

“Oh, have you owned those name brand running shoes for a day too long? Get a grass stain on them? You know not all of us get credit cards at the age of 12 because our parents are willing and able to provide anything their precious little child could want. Some of us can’t even afford long showers. Only getting so long before the faucets start spitting out ice.”

Eddie still doesn’t know why the house was left so cold. He’d like to try to convince himself that Steve thought it would be a way to combat the fever, but, no, Steve’s already confirmed it had to do with saving. It sounded like he was meant to pay for heating and cooling with his allowance back in high school, but why? The scenario is so bizarre. His parents would give him money to put into heating anyway? It comes out of their pocket anyway! What’s the point of that? Maybe if they wanted to teach him some kind of lesson about priorities?

“My uncle doesn’t even turn his heat on until mid-september,” Eddie goes on. “Have you ever skipped a meal to afford a new coat? Or any clothes for that matter? Huh, Mr. Polo and Nikes? Never had to cultivate a style on a budget?”

Glancing over he sees Steve’s hair sweat-plastered to his forehead. He might be getting a little bit too hot now in the heated vehicle and under all three blankets. They’re almost to Eddie’s trailer now, so he can situate Steve to a better condition while he asks him to elaborate on the situation.

It’s a little weird. He’s never really conversed with Steve, and yeah he’s annoyed that Steve gets to take his silver spoon for granted, but something seems off. Steve’s usually a pretty good sport whenever he goes on his little rants. Usually he goes after how people adhere to the stereotypes of their cliques, and he’ll often spot Steve laughing along or making a ‘fair enough’ face, even when his statements definitely apply to him too. But he doesn’t react at all this time. Doesn’t even seem annoyed at all; just stares back blankly at Eddie. He’s used to getting some read out on him. He knows it’s irrational, but it really does serve to piss him off even more.

Waking Steve up made Eddie feel so guilty. He’d fallen back asleep so fast, and he’d already been sleeping all day. He must truly be exhausted. Steve hobbling to the front door is a miserable sight. His socks are now browning with mud from the squishy ground he’s walking on. Eddie holds the door for him, and he nods in thanks, but never complaining about the cold, despite shivering so hard he physically could not have openned the door on his own.

“Priveleged, spoiled bitch,” Eddie grumbles as he hops down from the table.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

He gets Steve new clothes first. His warmest pajamas and some of his uncle's thick work socks. Then he pulls out some of the canned soup they have stored for just such an occasion. The soup doesn’t take long, and by the time he finishes Steve is sitting on the couch, outfit changed. He’s not asleep now, but he’s still visibly tired. He’s shed two of the three comforters, but he still shivers slightly under the layers.

“Your clothes are soft. I put my stuff in your washer by the way. I don’t know how yours works so they’re just sitting in there, but it was empty.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Eddie says, passing the bowl over to Steve. “I’ll take care of it later. For now… I guess I’m a little confused about why your house was an ice block.”

Steve huffs out a small laugh. “My parents pay for the heating and cooling, but they aren’t always home, so it doesn’t always get paid for.” He shrugs. “When I was in high school I could go to Tommy’s because his parents were also away most of the time, but then we had our falling out. When I got a job I could start heating for the power myself, but I’m saving up now.”

Eddie can’t think of a follow up to that before Steve fully drains the bowl of soup.

“I, uh, haven’t eaten since this morning and it was just toast,” he explains shyly.

Eddie takes the bowl to the sink and finds a sleeve of crackers to bring back to Steve, along with a glass of water.

“Sorry about, uh…” Steve starts when Eddie enters the room again. “I mean, I know we had plans today. I was hoping I’d be able to sleep it off before I had to be here, but then I just slept through it I guess.”

“Dude it’s fine. You can’t help your shitty immune system.” He gets flipped off for that comment. “Just next time let people know you’re sick when you have plans with them. Also, next time leave your freezing house! No wonder you weren’t getting any better!”

Steve laughs a bit, which devolves into a coughing fit. “I’d hope to have my own place by the time I’m sick again,” he says once his coughs subside. That’s when Eddie changes his priorities from getting more answers to getting Steve to finish eating what he has before giving him medicine and moving him to Eddie’s bed to sleep the rest off.

As they make a last minute cake the next day, he learns about how Steve’s parents used to give him 10 dollars to survive on per week since he was 8. About how they limited his budget to keep him from buying things that contradicts their image; so that he would only wear the clothes that they provided. About how they didn’t want to waste money heating the whole house if Steve would be the only one home, only really using 3 rooms.

He feels like he should maybe be more shocked, but everything he’s learned about Steve suddenly makes so much more sense. The way he’s behaved over the past months; not having a single moment of culture shock when exposed to Eddie or Robin’s means of living.

He remembers a time when Dustin asked Steve for ‘a loan’ and Steve told him that if he needed money to ‘mow the neighbor’s lawn like all the other kid his age.’ Eddie remembered thinking it was kind of hypocritical, but was largely dismissive of it. But he gets it now. It was an expression of his own experiences.

[hitlikehammers]

stupid superpower

rating: teen tags: humor, brotherly ribbing, Dustin has a ✨stupid superpower✨, Dustin continues to have issues with his tone ✨for @slashify at my BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST for the prompt: Character Has Powers (requested to be Dustin)

“Look, see!” Dustin points at the mat he’s laid out on the coffee table in Steve’s living room. “This is why Dart was so easy, it makes so much sense now.”

He turns to them with the biggest grin that’s getting a little less gummy by the week, now, but…he looks so proud, is the thing.

And it is painful. The pride. What it’s for.

The way they’re gonna have to probably dash it.

“I,” Steve squints at the setup, start to finish, empty cans framing the perimeter before he sighs: “I am not seeing anything, man.”

“No,” Dustin’s voice goes pitchy, really, he should have outgrown that by now, s’looking like it’s a permanent trait, yeesh; “look.”

And he points with such…some superiority, such imperiousness, like…okay, so maybe it’s the least painful of the list, when they have to dash all that pride. Kid’s gotta fucking learn some humility, man. Like, sooner rather than later.

“I told you I could communicate with them!” Dustin pulls off his cap and throws it to the couch, triumphant. Steve watches the mat for a few more seconds before he straights up, cocks his hip and crosses his arms.

“You’re telling me,” he says slowly; “that you talk to slugs.”

Because that…that certainly appears to be what the argument has been. They’d kinda thought Dustin has been joking, in previous passing mention. Eddie, at least, definitely thought he was just being an annoying little prick for how many times he asked if either of them felt particularly chiropteran, muttering about traits from interactions, close encounters, bites would obviously count.

Like, it was Dustin, if they took all the crap he said to heart, weighed it seriously, they’d never do anything else.

Like: ever.

“Interspecial gastropodic extracommunicational phenomena,” Dustin rattles off, a little defensive, if Eddie’s gonna be honest; and it wasn’t exactly called for. Steve just asked a question.

Eddie, on the other hand…

“So slugs and snails,” Eddie confirms, droll as fuck by intention, because Eddie is actually very aware of his tone in most situations, thank you very much; “the shell doesn’t deter you.”

“No, I think it’s the whole at least the whole class, maybe the whole phylum,” and he’s so excited, but, he’s also being a fucking know-it-all about it and there is a part of Eddie that doesn’t want to squash Dustin’s enthusiasm but the bigger part of Eddie, but fucking far, knows for a goddamn fact no one could possible squash Dustin’s enthusiasm, or self-confidence, like, Dustin would happily go toe-to-toe with like, Stephen fucking Hawking, and brag afterward that the intellectual stimulation was lacking.

So Eddie doesn’t actually feel bad about any of this and Dustin rambles on.

“But I think if I got my hands on a limpet, or an abalone—“

And when he looks up he must catch something, like he must be able to tell, to read something despite Eddie being very fucking careful to keep a helluva poker face right now—and Eddie’s kinda proud, because maybe the little shithead can be taught.

“You’re joking,” Dustin concludes, dry as fuck and with the audacity to sound…disappointed? Like in a how-could-you-be-so-juvenile-as-to-stoop-to-this-level kind of way which. Which.

“Not at all,” Eddie clutches his non-existent pearls in mock offense, and Dustin’s eyes just narrow.

“I was right.”

“Might not want to say that too loud, Dusty-Buns,” Eddie shoots right back and Steve coughs unconvincingly to cover a laugh and Eddie bites his bottom lip to stop his own smile, less because of Dustin’s reaction and more just because…Stevie. Being adorable.

Steve being his Stevie.

“Yeah, that feels like slander,” Steve adds in thoughtfully, stroking his chin and everything before he turns to Eddie, considering.

“Can you slander yourself, if you’re embarrassing enough?”

And oh, oh: Eddie adores it when his boyfriend’s bitchy side comes out. He adores it so much.

“‘Course you can, big boy,” Eddie can’t help himself as he leans over and pecks at Steve’s cheek; Dustin scowls at them and Eddie can’t help himself, so he licks up Steve’s cheek for the disgusted grown from Dustin and the half-assed shove from Steve that doesn’t move him further away at all.

“You’re just jealous that I have a superpower,” Dustin ultimately shoots back which: okay, Eddie knows he’s capable of better than that, he’s kind of disappointed, that was so weak.

“It’s a stupid superpower,” Steve points out, plain and simple and Eddie wants to clap his hands. He. Loves. His. Bitchy. Boyfriend.

So. Much.

“Or is it a superpower for stupid?” Eddie asks, turning back to Steve like it’s a genuine question, a worthy debate.

“Naw,” Steve shakes his head, almost regretful; “he is pretty fuckin’ smart.”

“More than one kind of stupid, Stevie,” Eddie notes with due gravitas.

“Envy,” Dustin sniffs, so goddamn superior. “Green’s really not your fucking color,” and ooo, there’s a little snarl, a little sneer on his lips; “either of you.”

“I look good in green,” Steve points out, not even petulant, just factual.

“For example,” Eddie picks up and talks over Dustin’s comment like he never made one, leveling the little asshole with a pointed look:

“Some people are stupid about their tone.”

Steve doesn’t even try to cover his snort that time.

“You look good in everything, sweetheart,” Eddie takes the opportunity to comment, to sneak another kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth as he purrs; “and out.”

“Disgusting,” Dustin gags and Eddie turns to glare as he bites out:

“Tone!”

Like, way to prove Eddie’s fucking point for him, wow, the lack of self-preservation is overwhelming here.

“I’m gonna go find El,” Dustin announces, like he thinks it’s an airport; “she will be thrilled to have someone like her around—“

“Remember what I said?” Eddie turns to Steve, exaggerates the knowing look he gives; “types of dumb,” then he turns again to Dustin, and knows his look is pitying, because he fucking means for it to be.

“Telekinesis and slug-speak aren’t even in the same universe, man,” and Jesus H., Dustin looks offended at the suggestion, which.

Which.

“The overlap of telepathic—“

“Slugs, Dustin,” Steve butts in, cuts him off; “I drown those fuckers in little bowls of beer in the yard. They go in willingly,” and oh. Oh, Eddie loves his boyfriend.

Eddie loves his boyfriend so goddamn much.

Because he hadn’t even noticed the set up, the slight of hand, because Steve had overturned the can of PBR he hadn’t finished, that had gone warm anyway, and dumped it into the shallow little bowl that used to have pretzel sticks inside, low enough to, to—

“Well they won’t anymore,” Dustin declares, fucking haughty with it; “because I will tell them—“

“Yet behold, special super slug-whisperer,” Eddie gasps and gestures wide to the mat where the slug demonstration had originally taken place: “whatever do we have here?”

What they have there is the little bowl of beer, set on the slug mat.

With slugs already drowned inside.

“Probably maybe you should be smarter about where you stick your attention if you really want to save your precious children from their hoppy graves,” Eddie shrugs, and infuses his words with as much fake fucking concern as he can fit into them because slug-whispering.

Fucking honestly.

Dustin only wastes a few seconds gaping at the scene, mouth working around something—comprehension, maybe, or just some degree of shock—before he turns his eyes up and glares at them both.

“You’re evil,” he says definitively, pointing; “both of you.”

“Go see El, Super Slug,” Eddie smiles indulgently; “she’s absolutely trembling with anticipation at the arrival of an equal, I’m sure of it.”

“After all, didn’t you say,” Steve shrugs and folds his arms over his chest, looks Dustin up and down before delivering the final blow:

“You were right.”

And Dustin scowls, and Eddie cackles, because that’s his brother, that’s their brother.

“Fucking assholes,” Dustin mutters, and leaves his slug mat and the beer-bowl behind as he stomps out the door: these children really need to learn about cleaning up after themselves, even if they leave in a stompy little huff like a goddamn toddler, fucking hell: but still.

Dustin’s their brother.

Like they were ever going to let him get away with bragging about slug powers.

permanent tag list (comment to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 20: Under the Covers

Word Count: 656/Rating: T/Pairing: None/CW: none/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, Erica Sinclair, Lucas Sinclair, Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, birthday party, cover band

Divider credit to @silkholland

“Absolutely not.”

Eddie hopes that Lucas can detect his grimace through the phone. 

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas pleads, heaving a sigh. “My sister’s freaking out. Like, on the verge of homicide.”

Eddie knowingly chuckles. “Well, the guys are actually here right now. We can take a vote.” He tilts the receiver away from his mouth and calls out, “Hey, dipshits! Do we wanna play Madonna covers at Little Sinclair’s birthday party this weekend?”

“Pass,” Jeff says. 

“Over my dead body!” Grant barks. 

Gareth goes as far to say, “I’d rather slowly saw off my arm with a butter knife.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muses before turning his attention back to Lucas. “Yeah, that’s gonna be a no.”

There’s a scuffling noise as the phone is passed to—or, more likely, grabbed by—Erica Sinclair. 

“Which one of you weirdos am I talking to?”

Eddie laughs again. “Listen…Lady Applejack,” he starts, but Erica cuts him off before he can continue talking. 

“No, you listen. The band that was supposed to play at my party got the flu. And if I don’t have a goddamn Madonna cover band, Tina will make sure that I’m the laughingstock of the sixth grade!”

Eddie’s not sure who Tina is, nor does he care, but he knows what it’s like to be an outcast. He glances back at the guys, sprawled out between the couch and the floor. They’re gonna kill me, he thinks grimly. 

“What time should we be there?”

It had taken a lot of convincing and even more bribery—Eddie would be lugging equipment in and out of the van solo for a long time—but the guys eventually agreed to play Erica’s party. For the first time in his life, Eddie went to the record store and seriously browsed the pop section, renting both of Madonna’s cassettes. The cashier raised his brow quizzically when Eddie dropped them on the counter. 

“Don’t ask,” Eddie had muttered, and the cashier wordlessly bagged the tapes. 

Under the roof of the Sinclair’s open garage, the rest of Corroded Coffin tune their instruments and grumble under their breath. 

Eddie steps up to the mic, tapping on it once to confirm it’s powered on. “Uh, hi,” he says to the crowd of twelve-year-old girls, “we’re Corroded Coffin?” He winces at the inflection in his voice. “And we’ve got a few songs for you.”

He nods at the band, none of them meeting his gaze. 

Holiday! Celebrate! Holiday! Celebrate!

Eddie glanced around, noting the swarm of preteen girls dancing along, with Erica at the center. At least they’re enjoying it, he thinks wryly. 

Everybody spread the word 

We're gonna have a celebration 

All across the world 

In every nation

Okay, this isn’t too bad. The girls seem happy, which means Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair will be happy, which means they might add a tip to what they’re already paying. 

It’s not until the band is at the chorus to Into the Groove that Eddie sees them: 

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike stand at the far end of the driveway. Lucas and Dustin are laughing so hard that tears slip down their cheeks, but Eddie can’t see Mike’s face. 

Because it’s blocked by a camcorder. The scrawny freshman is videotaping them. 

“Get into the groove, boy, you've got to prove your love to me, yeah,” Lucas sings in a mocking, nasal tone. 

Dustin manages to stop laughing long enough to add, “work it, material girls!”

“You little shits!” Eddie yanks the cord from the amp, scrambling to charge at the boys. His face is bright red in both anger and embarrassment. “I’m gonna kick your sorry asses!”

The freshmen run as fast as they can, Mike lagging behind as he struggles to hold onto the camera. The gaggle of girls disperses, all of them shrieking at the prospect of a fight. Erica rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in irritation. 

Yeah…Corroded Coffin might be forgoing a tip for this gig. 

--

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Fake Dating Recs

Click below for my fake dating faves.

Grown Men, Holding Hands by @whimsymanaged. T, 1.4k. “I didn’t know you two were together!” a paralegal named Dustin is exclaiming as he beams from Henry to Alex. “How oblivious of me. It’s not like there wasn’t a vibe.”

“Oh.” Henry laughs awkwardly and gives a little cough. God, Alex would die for this man. In a normal way. Obviously. “No, that’s good. We were hoping no one would pick up on the…vibe.”

or, Alex and Henry pretend to be a couple.

Iced Hazelnut Latte by @f-ing-ruthless-baz. T, 1.6k. When an American stranger comes up to him acting like his boyfriend, Henry rolls with it. Because what else is he going to do? Study?

sparks fly (whenever you smile) by cxpbuck. G, 4k. When Alex wakes up after a particularly alcohol-filled night, he’s surprised by a blonde stranger in his bed. What’s more surprising, however, are all the messages on his phone congratulating his engagement to said blonde stranger.

A Toast to the Night by @three-drink-amy. E, 5.5k. Henry looks up from his drink and swears his jaw drops. Standing in front of him is one of the most beautiful men he’s ever seen. From his dark brown curls to the way his deep eyes gleam as he stands there, an awkward smile on his face. Henry is nearly sure this man is going to ask for his seat. He probably has some woman with him, scouring for a place to sit.

“Uh, hi,” the man says.

“Hi.”

“Look, this is really awkward,” he says and Henry feels the confirmation in his gut — also maybe disappointment. “My ex-boyfriend just walked in and I really don’t want to talk to him. I was wondering if I could sit here with you so that he won’t talk to me.”

can this be a real thing (can it?) by @theprinceandagcd. M, 5.7k. June huffs. “And I suggested that he does go, and take a date.”

Something uncomfortable gets stuck underneath Alex’s rib cage on his next breath. “It would piss them off,” he muses, staring at the furrow in Henry's brow and wishing he could smooth it away with his thumb. His fingers twitch, and he shoves his hand into his lap.

Henry is almost pouting. “Ah, yes. Let me select from the many suitors banging down my door.”

“Take me.”

It takes Alex a full second to realize that he’s the one who has spoken, and now everyone at the table is staring at him with slightly agape mouths.

Including Henry.

you don't know the answer (til someone's on their knees and asks you) by @theprinceandagcd. T, 6.1k. “This might be the best one yet,” Henry comments, picking up another forkful of cheesecake and holding it out toward Alex. “Cheers to another successful con.”

They clink their forks, sharing small secret smiles over their free dessert before exiting the restaurant with their fingers interlocked and thanking the hostess, while all the servers watch them leave with hearts in their eyes.

(are we falling like) snow on the beach by @coffeecatsme. T, 6.4k. Henry has to belatedly agree that the Craigslist ad isn’t posted by an organ harvester, yet confronted with the face that has haunted his dreams for weeks—even if all they shared was an awkward hug—Henry thinks that would’ve been more desirable.

Exactly the way they’d fucking planned it.

---

Best friends Alex and Henry pretending to get engaged every week to get free dessert, until those pesky feelings get in the way.

When Henry needs a fake boyfriend for a family dinner, Pez finds him someone off of Craigslist. Turns out, it's the same person he's had a disastrous first date with months ago.

12 Year Starter by @clottedcreamfudge. E, 6.6k. “Hazza, you poorly assembled toast rack,” Pez interrupts him, effectively stopping Henry in his tracks as he tries to untangle the absurdity of that description. “You are not cancelling your birthday dinner just because your – admittedly charming and extremely sexy – best friend can’t hop across the pond in quite as sprightly and timely a manner as we’d previously hoped. You shall go to the ball.”

(call me) in case you need an escape by viciouslyqueer. T, 6.8k. Alex was studying in the library when a man asked to sit with him. He’s beautiful. 

will you be my (fake) boyfriend? by coffeecatsme. T, 8.2k. It's a split-second decision. He drops his towel aside and beelines next to the blonde, grabbing a bottle of vodka on his way so he doesn’t look suspicious, and slams it loudly on the counter next to the pair. The blonde jumps and stares at him with wide eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Alex drawls out; he’s careful to move slowly but he leans over the counter anyway, going up on his tiptoes, and lets his lips brush against his cheeks. The blonde hairs tickle his forehead. “And here I was wondering where my favorite person went.”

During his shift at his bar, Out Law'ed, Alex saves him from a handsy flirt by pretending to be boyfriends. They keep it going. 

lover of mine (maybe we’ll take some time) by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 9.2k. “Why am I even invited to the wedding?”

“See, it’s a funny story,” Alex says quickly. “After we broke up, Nora took this new job in Upper Manhattan. So she and June live there now. And I’ve been so busy working at Luna’s new firm that I haven’t really talked to my family about anything other than the wedding. So, um. Well. They don’t know that we broke up.”

Henry feels his fingers digging into the invitation, crumpling the paper, but he doesn’t care. “They what?”

Alex buries his face in his hands. “I never told my family that we broke up.”

Green Means Go by @indomitable-love. E, 9.5k. ‘Ah the joys of student living,’ Henry says, smiling at Alex. There’s something warm in his eyes too despite the cool blue colour. ‘I see you found the dress code,’ he says smoothly, giving Alex a sly smile. His voice is smooth, honeyed and rich even over the vibrations of the music.

Alex’s brow furrows. ‘Dress code?’ 

Henry pauses. ‘You’re wearing green, are you not?’ 

‘Green?’ Alex asks, looking down at his shirt and then back to Henry, in a short sleeved yellow button up shirt, then to Pez in lime green. He looks around again – two girls on the dance floor dancing together, one in a deep green velvet dress, the other in a khaki jacket; a group next to them, all in red; someone dancing in yellow dungarees. Everyone around them in one of those three colours.

Oh, fuck. 

‘This is a stop light party,’ Alex says dumbly. 

Alex is an exchange student and ends up at a traffic light party that he doesn't realise is a traffic light party. 

All in the mood for a melody by clottedcreamfudge. E, 9.6k. Alex has a new upstairs neighbour. This isn't a problem in and of itself; it's not like he hasn't had upstairs neighbours before. It's been a revolving door of characters since he first moved into his own apartment four years ago, and none of them has been particularly significant.

This person though - whoever they fucking are - has a piano.

Just Business by bleedingballroomfloor. T, 11k. “I just need you to know that this is strictly a business relationship.”

Henry blinks. His brain is taking a minute to process everything — meeting Alex. Dozens of pictures lining his office walls, each featuring a different persona of his. Brochures upon brochures, prices upon prices. It’s a bit overwhelming.

“You’re asking for a lot here,” Alex continues, “and that means we’ll be spending a lot of time together. A Golden Tux. You’re asking me to pull off a Golden Tux, Henry. But I need you to know that this is just business.”

Henry knows he’s asking for a lot. A best man. A wedding party. Time with his family. He knows that this should only be about business. He knows.

(He also knows that Alex is very, very attractive, and he knows that this will be a long four weeks with Alex.)

i'll bet it all on me and you, i'll bet it all you're bulletproof by @anincompletelist. M, 11k. ALSO podfic by @thirdeye1234

“Let’s do this,” he says.

“Let’s,” Alex agrees, pushing down on the handle until the door swings open. “After you, boyfriend.”

This is most definitely not his finest idea. Henry usually practices much better self preservation skills. Much better common sense skills. He steps over the threshold of Alex’s room and it feels like sealing his fate.

They’re doing this for Alex to win over their bosses in a lighthearted game with a harmless lie, but Henry can’t fight off the bitter knowledge that, regardless of how tonight goes, Alex will be fine, but Henry has so much to lose.

Only Fools by @orchidscript. M, 13k. Henry rolled his eyes. “No. You tell me — that sounds better — why I should bring my ex-hook up to my brother’s wedding?”

Comfort Crowd by schmulte. T, 12k. But today. Today the universe is playing its worst prank yet. Because not only has fate cruelly given him a crush on possibly the most unattainable person at his school, but it also pushed them together in the most inconvenient of ways. And today must be the final nail in Henry’s coffin, because the perfect, beautiful boy sitting across from him has just opened his mouth and said:

“We should date.”

Firstprince fake dating/To All The Boys au!

Pez hummed and half-shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you? He’s the perfect thing to light your gran’s helmet of hair on fire.” Pez set his cup down and leaned forward onto the table. “That’s what Pip encouraged you to do, didn’t he?”

“Martha more than Pip, but yes. He did.” Henry sighed.

With his brother's wedding a few weeks away, Henry Fox is determined to not show up alone. Not wanting to ask a stranger, he instead turns to Alex, hoping to manufacture something believable from something familiar. Try as he might to keep a level head, Henry can't help falling in love with the man. Will it come around to bite him or will it turn into something more than he had hoped?

“Then ask Alex.”

___________________________________________

tangled up (with you) by @athousandrooms @dustratcentral. M, 16k. “See? I have no fucking filter. That’s exactly what got me into this situation. I guess the whole thing with wanting my mom to know I’m not straight got mixed up with all the frustration." Alex knows he's spiraling, panic rising the more he thinks of the snowballing effect of his lie, of the consequences that will inevitably come to bite him in the ass, but he has no idea how to stop it. "And now I have to come clean and tell her I don’t actually have a boyfriend and also explain why I lied, and if they didn’t think I was a complete mess before, this is gonna confirm it for sure.”

Henry takes hold of both his hands, fingertips stroking over his pulse points soothingly. “Alex, breathe.” He waits until Alex manages a slow, slightly shaky breath, then opens his mouth and throws him a fucking curveball. “What if you didn’t come clean?”

Alex is an expert at making messes, but this time he dug himself into a hole he doesn't know how to get out of, and now his family is expecting him to bring home a boyfriend that - small problem - doesn't exist. Luckily for him, Henry is willing to take the role.

Five Words In My Head by aforgottennymph. E, 19k.

“I have a proposition for you.” Henry tries not to think about those words in another context and ultimately fails. He schools his expression into something more civil, “Right. What is it?” Alex appears to be straining so hard to not roll his eyes that it’s surprising he hasn’t given himself a hernia, “Date me.” “Excuse -” “Pretend. Pretend to date me.”

Henry Fox is certain of four key facts; he needs at least four vodka shots to be able to stomach karaoke, his best friend Pez may be the earliest cause of his inevitable demise and he is sadly, deeply in love with his next-door neighbour who hates his guts.

The fourth is that the universe is out to get him as that is the only explanation for why said neighbour demands that they pretend to date, so he can prove to his sister that he is mature enough to be godfather to her child.

Wait until he finds out their hotel room only has one bed.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married by @miss-minnelli. T, 20k. Alex and Henry, an unreal amount of obliviousness and pining, and an idiotic scheme to swindle the government.

Please Don’t Let Me Be So Understood by @cha-melodius. E, 20k. “I’m glad you both see it that way,” Dr. Chen says. Then she closes her notebook and folds her hands on top of it. “I think I’m starting to get a sense of where the issues lie. The good news is that you’re both here, and you’re both willing to work on this relationship. That’s promising. Not all of the couples I see are even at that point.”

“Sorry, what?” Henry says, voicing Alex’s stuttering thoughts as well.

(After one too many fights at work, Henry and Alex are assigned mandatory reconciliation therapy by their boss. Except the therapist thinks they're there for couples therapy... and surely, a bet on who will break first makes more sense than actually correcting her, right?)

Fifty First Dates by @welcometololaland. E, 26k. Henry has used a dating app exactly one time. Predictably, the date turns out to be terrible. The bartender, however, is not.

A cute stranger’s solution to Henry’s woeful dating life is to set him up on fifty first dates.

It's Tradition by firb (f_ing_ruthless_baz). M, 29k. It’s tradition. Whoever catches the bouquet at the wedding has to kiss the person closest to them. And maybe they’ll have a Spark.

Well Alex doesn’t give a heck about tradition, and he certainly doesn’t believe anyone is going to find their soulmate at a wedding like Prince Philip’s. And when he’s the one who gets accidentally flogged by florals at the toss, he certainly doesn’t think he’s going to Spark—not since the only one standing near him is Prince Dickhead himself.

When sparks fly and cakes collapse, Alex and Henry are going to have to face the music. They may be soulmates, but they sure don’t have to be happy about it.

Let Loose Your Glow by @athousandrooms. E, 45k. “Seems like my liege was caught in a situation where he’d rather the ground swallow him whole.” Pez nods towards a spot to the side, and Alex follows his gaze. He spots Henry easily – a tall lighthouse of tousled blond hair – talking to a girl who is clearly into him. His expression looks perfectly polite, but he’s subtly leaning away, and he looks tense.

So, Alex makes an impulsive decision.

Whatever happens, this is going to be fun.

Or: Alex is so very definitely straight, so pretending to be Henry’s boyfriend to get him out of an awkward situation should just be a fun little pastime - except that he doesn't really want to stop, and he has no idea why. But maybe it's okay to not think too hard and let himself go with the flow, for once. 

Even if It's Just Pretend by nontoxic. E, 55k. “The queen wants to show that the Prince and the First Son are still deeply in love and committed to their countries.” Ellen swallows. “They want you to go on a tour of the Commonwealth together, to get the public to see those emails not as a sex scandal, but an invasion of privacy of a wholesome, loving relationship.”

“It was an invasion of privacy,” Alex says. He swallows. “Did they say what would happen if we say no?”

Ellen’s lips pinch tightly at the corners. “Then they will issue a full denial and Henry will tour the commonwealth himself.”

Alex doesn't hesitate. “Tell them we’ll do it. I’m not gonna let him do this alone."

It would kill him. Henry hates this shit. The public parading, the judgment. Having to do all of that, and deny who he is? Alex at least wants to be there, to hold his hand through it. Even if it's just as a friend.

It might kill Alex to pretend, but that’s a small price to pay to ensure Henry—his beautiful, vibrant, funny-as-hell, brilliant ex-not-quite-boyfriend—isn’t killed instead.

---

or, the alex-never-goes-to-kensington-after-the-lake-house, exes-to-fake-dating-to-lovers fic.

Never Did Run Smooth by clottedcreamfudge. E, 67k. "You and me? Best friends. Stellar. Love that for us. But we could absolutely fake being in love. Dating. Whatever. I know literally everything about you—" (No you don't, Henry thinks firmly) "—and you know everything about me. We would absolutely fucking annihilate the other contestants.”

"You're too drunk to apply," Henry points out, like he himself isn't about as wasted as it's possible for him to be without curling up and going immediately to sleep. "I doubt you could spell your own name right on the application. Or mine."

Alex grins and pulls something up on his phone; it looks like it takes him a few tries. "Wanna fucking bet?"

Or: Henry's life is a comedy of errors; a patchwork of oopsie-daisies; a quilt stitched together with hauntingly terrible mistakes. And at the centre of it all is his best friend, Alex Claremont-Diaz; director of said comedy, threading together his oopsie-daisies into a flower crown, rolling around in the quilt of his own making, and this analogy is going to shit because Henry's so in love with him he wants to die.

praying our bridges don't make waves by anincompletelist (soldouthaz). E, 82k. He glances down to the word ‘LOVE’ at the bottom. It’s too loud, too harshly written. Alex doesn’t feel harsh or loud. He feels a lot, so much it’s overwhelming sometimes, but the edges are soft, not hard. There’s a glow around it, something hazy and barely tinted gold, and Alex feels like if he could reach out and put his hands near it, they would warm up like they used to when he stood in front of the old brick fireplace back home.

He glances at ‘LOVE’ and then loops back around to ‘HENRY’.

Maybe, Alex thinks, hands shaking, they’re one in the same. Whatever the fuck that means.

When June gets sick, Alex knows he'll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets the care that she needs. Even if that means convincing his nemesis/sexuality-crisis-inducing/clandestine hook-up partner/somewhat of an actual friend to pretend to be his soulmate in order to pull it off. It's both more and less complicated than it sounds.

lights, camera, action (roses, wisteria and royal bluebells) series by coffeecatsme. E, 200k. If you could have anything in the world, anything at all, what would it be?

Alexander Claremont-Diaz has clawed his way into Hollywood despite all the hurdles in his way, and now he's starring in his dream movie—a queer romcom adapted from one of his favorite books, Roses, Wisteria, and Royal Bluebells. However, he barely has the chance to be excited before he finds out who his costar is. The privileged, white, bigoted Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor.

The last thing Alex wants is to be associated with Henry more than he already has to, but a fateful interview and a few choice words against Henry turns him into enemy number one in Hollywood. To fix it, he has to pretend to be Henry's best friend and show the entire world his comments were nothing but friendly banter. However, as he gets inevitably tangled up in Henry's life, he realizes not everything is as it seems, and Henry might be hiding his own demons that might change everything.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

[6urn1td0wn]

•-☆ STARDUST HEAD-CANONS ☆-•

Had these in my notes for a while and decided to finally post them (due to encouragement from maple HAI MAPLE HAIII!!!!)

They’re a little messy but so is stardust so shshshshhh

•-☆ ALL SFW ☆-•

•Uses it/star pronouns mostly, doesn’t hate he/him though

•it’s home universe doesn’t really have stars like ours does which is why stars so interested in them

•It doesn’t sleep at night (star doesn’t know its supposed to) just so it can stare up into space all night

(This also makes star totally conk out at random points during the day)

•Its a very light sleeper, stars never really tired or groggy he’s either 110% or totally passed out

•its eyes glow in the dark!!!!!

•Stardust and its brother were both princes in their home universe, they traveled to our universe as a kinda test their father gave them to ‘prove themselves’ worthy of the throne

•stardust was in fact not proven to be worthy just yet

•Stardust doesn’t actually hate its brother, stars just naive and childish. It’s like when you’re a young kid and your sibling does something to upset you and you’re like “I HATE U!! BWEH!!” When you’re really just a dramatic kid lawl

•no one really sees it without his facepaint on, there’s rumors that it’s just…part of its face (it’s not though! A few people have shared rooms with star and can confirm it comes off. They had to swear to not describe what he looks like, though)

•uses space facts and stupid metaphors as a way of bonding, most people find it annoying but it’s stars best attempt at getting closer to someone

•gets irrationally annoyed if someone doesn’t understand what stars saying, it feels like all the metaphors it uses are extremely obvious and star shouldn’t need to explain them (they aren’t, and it does)

•smells like code red Mountain Dew (just trust)

•totally mesmerized by human tech, specifically things like microphones or amplifiers ( it doesn’t understand them!!)

And also telescopes!!

•has been arrested multiple times because the cops thought it was on drugs, when in reality stars just..like that (it’s father, goldust, triple h, ect had to bail him out)

•eats butter noodles

•no one has seen it blink. Ever

•randomly found absolutely SNOOZING backstage a good 2 minutes before stars supposed to go out, somehow never actually late

•in order to move dimensions, both stardust and goldust needed a ‘ vessel’ (Cody and Dustin Rhodes). Dustin and goldust were able to coexist peacefully, but Cody proved to be more difficult

•despite knowing its body is technically Cody’s, Stardust really doesn’t understand why people call him Cody when star ‘obviously’ isn’t

•absolute expert on human history! That and astrology are the only two things that can get it to calm down for longer than 2 seconds, other than stars father or sometimes brother

•Loves Eden (Brandi) They’re best friends forevers (even if star creeps her out sometimes)

•knows every single constellation and WILL point them out to you

•takes birthdays very seriously

•doesn’t understand that characters in movies are played by actors (the rock confuses star greatly)

[marvel-ous-m]

D&D&D (Dungeons and Dragons and Dustin's Birthday)

AO3 Link | WC: 4,979 | Rating: Teen and Up Audiences | Tags: Fluff, Eddie Munson & Steve Harrington, Claudia Henderson is a Good Parent, Enemies to Friends, Hints of Steddie if you squint (and tilt your head), Birthday shenanigans, Mild Hurt/Comfort (like, very very mild, this is mostly just fluff)

This is a gift fic for the lovely @devondespresso!! Dev, I've loved getting to know you through this fandom. You are such a lovely person and a truly outstanding author. I'm so thankful I know you! I hope that you enjoy your day!!

Note: This is a pre-s3 fic taking place in May of 1985 with canon divergence for how Eddie and Dustin meet!

“Steve, thank you so much for agreeing to help with this. Come on in.” Claudia answered the door with her typical bright smile and ushered Steve into the Henderson family residence, leading him to the dining room. “I gave Dusty five dollars to go to the arcade with his friends, so I figure he’ll be out of the house for the next hour or so.” 

“Of course, Ms. Henderson.” Steve smiled back at her and took a seat at his usual spot in the dining room. Claudia sat across from him, and Steve took a moment to glance at the various decorations strewn around the table. They were mismatched, and all seemed like lightly-used relics of birthday-parties-past. “So… it looks like we’re throwing a Superman-Science-Robot...Underwater birthday party?” 

Claudia covered her mouth to muffle the snort of laughter from Steve’s comment. “Oh no! Could you imagine? I think Dusty would get all impassioned for five minutes straight if I did that, telling me about all the inaccuracies in the theme. No, these are just to help you boys get some inspiration for planning his birthday party! Thank you again for agreeing to do this. Nowadays he thinks everything I do is so uncool, so I thought it’d be best if you two took over the party planning this year.” 

Steve’s smile grew a bit tight at that. “Anytime, Ms. Henderson- really. But, uh- I’m sorry, I thought it was just me planning this? Did you have someone else in mind that I’ll be working with?” 

“Did I not tell you, honey? I’m sorry, it must have slipped my mind, I invited-” Claudia was cut off by the doorbell ringing, and she popped out of her seat in an instant. “Oh! That’ll be him- I’ll be right back.” She rushed to the front door, leaving Steve alone at the table with the pile of old decorations. He began to absently fiddle with a Superman poster as he waited for Claudia to return, mind racing through the various people who she could have enlisted to help plan the party. 

Nancy? No, Claudia had said ‘you boys’, so it wasn’t her. Jonathan? Maybe, but as far as Steve knew, Jon and Dustin weren’t very close. Maybe it was one of the other kids? But she’d said that she sent Dustin to the arcade with his friends, and presumably that meant all of the kids were with him…

“Thank you so much for inviting me, Ms. Henderson. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know Dustin over the last few months.” Oh no. 

Steve knew that voice. He’d heard it more times than he could count, shouting around the lunch room and marking sarcastic comments in class. 

No fucking way-

“Oh, you are too sweet, dear. Come on in, Steve’s already at the table, and I’ve got some old decorations laid out that you boys can hopefully make use of.” The two entered the room, and Steve felt his shoulders tense when he confirmed who he’d be working with. 

Eddie fucking Munson entered the room alongside Claudia, and was wearing a shit-eating grin when he met Steve’s eyes. “Hey there, Harrington. Sounds like we’ll be working together.” 

Steve pasted on his most convincing smile and nodded. “Yep. Sounds like it.” 

Claudia, oblivious to the tension between the boys, grinned. “I’m so glad you two know each other! That should make planning a bit easier. Now, I have to run off to go buy some groceries for the week, so I’ll leave you to it! There are cookies on the counter, feel free to help yourselves. If Dustin comes home before I’m back, you boys can just let him know that you’re here to help me do some renovating in the garage.” With that, she grabbed her purse from the living room and left to run her errands, abandoning Steve and Eddie at her kitchen table. 

“So… you, uh…” Steve trailed off, his desperate attempt at making conversation failing miserably. 

Eddie raised his eyebrow at Steve from where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Y’know, the kid always talks about you- ‘Steve’ this and ‘Steve’ that, but I kept telling myself it couldn’t be Steve Harrington, that maybe Dustin formed a weird friendship with a different adult man named Steve. Yet, here you are- Fallen so low from the totem pole that you’re planning a fourteenth birthday party for a kid in middle school.” 

“Yeah, well, at least I graduate this year- unlike some people.” Eddie’s words had triggered Steve’s bitchy side, he’ll admit it- but genuinely, what the fuck was Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson doing hanging around Dustin? “Also, you’re making fun of me for planning Dustin’s party, but in case I missed something, you’re here too.” 

Eddie threw a hand over his heart dramatically and pretended to double over, as if he’d been shot. “Oh, you wound me, Harrington. The rumors are true, I will not be walking the Hawkins High stage this year- but mark my words, ‘86 will be my year.” 

“Mhm.” Steve hummed, unimpressed. 

“As for knowing Dustin- there was that club fair two months ago for all the middle schoolers to attend, and I got Hellfire a table. Y’know, wanted to scope out the sheepies for next year’s flock. Anyways, I met Dustin and I ended up giving him my phone number because he wanted to talk about campaign stuff. Y’know what that little twerp did? He called me that night and started asking about stats for characters. Then he called me the next night, then the next, and eventually Claudia just told him to invite me over. We ended up painting mini figs- that’s miniatures for D&D- and watched dorky movies all day. It was pretty fuckin’ awesome, and Claudia liked me enough to keep inviting me over.” Eddie grinned at Steve, but the weight of Eddie’s words were not lost on him. 

Claudia liked him enough to keep inviting him over. Eddie Munson, known drug dealer and social pariah. 

Steve hadn’t formed much of a relationship with him- in fact, he’d pretty much avoided him because he’d heard such bad things- but Steve trusted Claudia’s opinion on things, often more than he trusted his own. She’d become a bit of a mother figure to him over the last few years, and if she liked Eddie enough to trust him with Dustin, maybe it was time for Steve to rethink his stance on the guy. 

“Oh.” Steve spoke, his lips pursed in thought more than anything else. “Well… alright. What theme should we make Dustin’s party?” 

 Eddie’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and he crossed his arms defensively. “What, now you’re fine working with me? Just like that?” 

Steve shrugged. “Yeah? Claudia and Dustin both like you, so that makes you alright in my book.” 

Eddie let out a huff of surprise, then uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his frizzy curls. “Well… alright then. Uh, I guess I did have one idea. It’s maybe sorta stupid, and I’m not sure how we would pull it off, but I think it’d be fun if we can make it happen?” Eddie’s tone turned hesitant at the end of his ramble, betraying his apprehension surrounding the party. 

Steve gave him a reassuring smile. “Well? What is it? In case it’s not clear just by looking at me, I’m less the ‘idea’ guy and more of the ‘execution’ guy.” 

“I’m sure that’s not true, Steve. You seem like at least a thirty-percent ideas, seventy-percent execution kinda guy.” 

Steve quirked his brow. “Stop stalling and spit it out, Munson.” 

Eddie didn’t have much of a chance to avoid the invitation presented there, so he didn’t. He came out with his idea, complete with creative ideas for how to go about making it happen on a low budget, and despite all of his hemming and hawing around the theme, it was actually pretty brilliant. 

“Yeah, alright- I think we can make that happen, but it’s gonna take a good amount of time, and we don’t have a lot of that to spare. Are you up for that?” 

Eddie hummed thoughtfully, and when he finally responded, it was with a playful glint in his eye. “In the pursuit of making Dustin’s 14th birthday everything it should be and more, I am prepared to make that sacrifice.” 

Steve smirked at that. “Then I think it’s about time that we get to work.”

Ms. Henderson ended up arriving back home before Dustin did, her arms laden with groceries. She entered the dining room with an eager grin after setting everything down in the kitchen. “So? Have you boys come up with a plan?”

“Yeah, we think so! We’ll need a good chunk of time to set up on the day-of. I have a list of some stuff to shop for and an idea of how to decorate his cake, and Eddie will need a lot of paper in the meantime, like that kind on the rolls at elementary schools. Do you have an idea for how to get that?” Steve glanced up at Claudia from the planning document he and Eddie had been furiously working on for the last few minutes, an excited smile on his face.

Yeah, he was excited, go fuckin’ figure. Eddie’s idea had ended up being pretty brilliant once they worked out some of the kinks, and he was looking forward to seeing Dustin’s reaction on the day-of.

“Y’know, back when Dusty was in elementary school, I was president of the PTA. I made quite a few connections back then- I’m sure I could take advantage of that and get the supplies you need.” Claudia replied, a nostalgic and slightly mischievous sparkle in her eye.

Eddie grinned. “Damn Ms. H, look at you! No better than a common criminal. The more I learn about you, the more I love about you!” 

“Oh, stop.” Claudia let out an amused snort and pat Eddie’s shoulder with a roll of her eyes. “I gave more hours than I can count to that school, some butcher paper is the least they can do to pay me back, and I’m sure they know that. Eddie, I’ll go ahead and call you when I figure out a time for us to pick up those supplies. Is there anything else you need from me, boys? Cooking? Baking?” 

“No, ma’am- that should be it. I’ll handle the baking, and we figured it’d be best to just order pizza for the party. Everything else is already done or delegated between me or Eddie.” Steve responded.

“Alright! Well, I’m certainly excited to see what you two put together- but for now, it’s probably a good idea to head out. Dustin will be home any minute. How about you two plan to come by the same time next week to set up? I’ll take Dustin out shopping, that should be more than enough time for you two to set up before the party that evening.”

Steve glanced Eddie’s way, and after receiving his nod of affirmation, Steve turned his attention to Claudia. “That sounds perfect, Ms. Henderson. We’ll see you then.”

“Great! Now- go grab a cookie from the kitchen and get going. Remember- if Dusty somehow finds out you were here and asks about it, you’re helping me renovate the garage.” 

Steve and Eddie followed Claudia’s instructions and exited the Henderson household together. Before Steve could get in his car to drive away, though, Eddie spoke up. “Man, that kid really doesn’t know what goes on in his garage, does he?”

Steve snorted out a laugh and shook his head, amused. “Get in your van, Munson. Call me if you need help with anything, alright? I wrote my phone number at the top of your planning sheet.” 

“Sure, but don’t worry, Steve-O. You shouldn’t be hearing from me until next week, when we meet again here at castle Henderson, and I arrive with my van laden with decorations.” 

Eddie called him three days later, after school had already let out for the day. “Dude, did you know how hard it is to paint bricks on gray paper? I feel like I’m dying here, man.” 

“Is this you asking me for help? I thought you were all, y’know, arts and crafts-y-”

“Steve, please don’t make me ask twice. I live in Forest Hills- once you get here you won’t be able to miss me, I’m the guy in front of his trailer sweating buckets trying to paint giant sheets of gray paper.” 

Steve rolled his eyes fondly. “I don’t think you even asked once, but alright, no need to be so dramatic. Let me change into some painting clothes, I should be there in about twenty minutes.” 

Steve hung up the phone and rushed up to his bedroom, changing into a pair of ratty jeans and an old t-shirt from gym class. He grabbed his keys on his way out the door, and just as Eddie had said, when he pulled up to Forest Hills fifteen minutes later, he knew exactly which trailer was Eddie’s. 

Eddie was knelt on a patch of grass outside his home. There were a few long gray sheets of butcher paper in front of him, and he was covered in various splotches of dark gray, red, and black paint. Steve parked his car nearby and made his way to the makeshift crafting area, his mouth upturned in an amused smile. 

“Y’know you’re supposed to keep the paint on the paper or in the bottles, right? It’s not really supposed to get all over you.”

Eddie’s head shot up when he heard Steve’s voice, and though his expression made him look annoyed, there was a spark of joy in his eyes. “Ha-ha-ha. Laugh it up, Harrington. At least I’m doing work.” 

“Yeah, speaking of which, have you planned the campaign yet? You’re the one who wanted to do this whole ‘immersion' thing, it would kinda suck if we hit it out of the park on immersion with no activity to actually make it… uh, y’know. Immersive.” Steve joined Eddie on the ground as he spoke, grabbing an extra paint brush from a pile nearby, then dipping it into a paper plate of gray paint. 

“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about that, Stevie. I’ve always got at least three one shots prepped, and there’s one that should be perfect for Dustin and his five friends with a little tweaking. It’s just this painting shit that’s giving me trouble.”

Steve frowned, and couldn’t help but mouth the word ‘pretty’ to himself. 

Eddie Munson called him pretty.

Steve felt his stomach flutter with anxiety, and he elected to ignore it.

Eddie Munson was weird.

“Well… hopefully it’ll go quicker with the two of us working together.” Steve smiled through the one-sided awkwardness he was now feeling. 

Their conversation ended up spiraling into a debate over music for the two hours that it took them to finish up the painting. By the time they were done, the day was turning to night, and Steve’s limbs were aching from the strain of staying in pretty much the same position the entire time they worked. He couldn’t even imagine how Eddie felt by now- but a look at the other man told him that he was probably about ready to fall over. 

Steve helped Eddie clean the brushes off using a nearby faucet, and once everything was packed up, he left to head back home- but not before confirming their meeting time at the Henderson house in a few days and telling Eddie to use dish liquid in the shower to help get the paint off. 

Steve and Eddie ended up arriving at the Henderson home at the same time on Saturday. Eddie still had a few flecks of paint on his nail beds and a stripe of red paint on his cheek, even though it had been three days since their impromptu arts-and-crafts day. Steve raised his eyebrows at Eddie when he noticed it, and received a clipped, “Don’t say anything,” in response. 

Eddie ended up reaching the Henderson’s front door before Steve, and after knocking, was met with an excited-looking Dustin. “Eddie! What are you doing here? Wait- Steve? Do you guys know each other? Did mom invite you over? That’s weird, because we’re supposed to go shopping in, like, ten minutes- so why are you at my house when I’m not gonna be at my house? Is that paint on your cheek?” 

“Uhhh… we- well, I- Steve and me-” 

Steve stepped forward and put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder to cut off his desperate attempt at answering Dustin. “Your mom is having us renovate the garage. We’re painting today, which is why she’s taking you out- because… uh, y’know. Fumes.” 

Dustin crossed his arms, standing immovable in the doorway. “Why is mom having you renovate the garage on my birthday weekend? Also, you didn’t answer my other question- how do you guys know each other?” 

“Dude, we go to school together. It’s a small town, and I can be a social guy when I wanna be. As far as your mom’s reason for having us do this work this weekend- I don’t know how your mom thinks, dude. You should maybe ask her that.” Eddie responded, then slung an arm around Dustin’s shoulders and walked with him into the house. 

Steve followed them, impressed by Eddie’s ability to go from stumbling around the truth to selling the lie. 

They made their way to the kitchen, where Claudia was digging in her purse for something. Her head shot up when she heard Dustin and Eddie enter the room, and a large smile made its way onto her face. 

“Boys! Good to see you. Dustin and I were just heading out. We’ll see you in about three hours, alright?” Claudia slung her purse over her shoulder and pushed past Eddie and Dustin to make her way to the front door. “Come on, Dusty! If we leave now, we’ll have time to swing by the bookstore!” 

Dustin sighed and moved out from under Eddie’s arm, shooting Steve and Eddie one last suspicious look before joining his mom by the front door. A slew of questions poured out of his mouth when he joined her, mostly of him asking why the boys were over, why the garage was getting renovated, and other questions along that line that he was saying too fast for Steve to process. Finally, the front door shut behind them, and the rumble of Ms. Henderson’s car leaving the front driveway signaled to Eddie and Steve that it was time to get to work. 

“I’ve got the big sheets of paper rolled up in the back of the van, and the red dragon decoration thing is in the passenger seat. The rest of the stuff needed for the campaign is in my backpack.” Eddie spoke as he made his way to the front door, and Steve followed behind him once again, rolling up his sleeves as they walked. 

“I have the stuff from the party supply store in the trunk, and the cake is in a cake carrier in the passenger seat. Thanks again for the sketch you drew of that dice thing-y, I think it helped a lot.” 

“Oh, right! The D20? I can’t believe you made a cake of that thing, man. I didn’t even know before this that you baked.” 

Steve shrugged, stopping behind Eddie outside of his van. He took the painted rolls of butcher paper from Eddie as he unloaded the decorations. “My babysitter taught me when I was younger, it’s nice. Calming.” 

Eddie hummed, grabbing the last roll of paper from the back of the van. He shut the doors with a thud, then made his way back to the Henderson house. 

They unloaded Steve’s car next, Eddie grabbing the party store supplies while Steve carefully transported the cake from his car to the fridge. 

They got to work after that, hanging the castle walls they had painted around Ms. Henderson’s dining room, making it look as much like a castle as possible. Steve had purchased red and black streamers from the party store, which he hung on the ceiling to add a bit of color to the room. Once that was done, he and Eddie had to work together to hang the red dragon that Eddie had crafted in the corner of the room. It was clearly homemade, yeah, but Eddie had put a lot of work into it, and it actually looked really cool. It was flat, but he had used black and red paint to create 3D effects on the paper. 

“Y’know Eds, you’re different than I thought you were.” Steve spoke from where he was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, hands on his hips as he took in the transformed space.

Eddie huffed next to him and crossed his arms, clearly offended by Steve’s words. “Gee, thanks Harrington.”

“No- I- shit, that came out wrong. I mean- look, the guys on the basketball team, they would always say so much shit about you. Junkie, burnout, asshole-”

“-You’re not really helping your case here, Stevie-”

“-if you would just listen, I could actually get to my point. What I’m saying is that they’re wrong. They say those things because they don’t understand what it’s like to actually give a shit about something. I didn’t really start to understand that until this last Fall, but the social hierarchy stuff, the conformity that you so proudly protest, that means everything to those guys- for a long time, it meant everything to me, too. In the long run, though? It doesn’t mean shit. You actually care about shit- real shit. You’re fuckin’ talented man, you’re creative as hell. You went to a club fair and met Dustin, and instead of pushing him away or telling him to get a life- which I’m sure most highschoolers would do in your situation after he bugged you three nights in a row- you took him under your wing. You’re a good guy, Eddie.” 

“Huh.” Eddie spoke under his breath, blinking at Steve as he processed the man’s words. “You’re different than I thought you were, too. Even after all the shit that went down with Wheeler earlier this year, I couldn’t believe what everyone was saying- no way The King gave up his crown and started babysitting a bunch of middle schoolers. Yet, here you are. Baking a cake from scratch and giving up hours of time to make sure some random kid has a cool birthday, themed around a thing that you don’t even understand.” 

Steve rolled his eyes and shoved Eddie’s shoulder. “I’ll have you know, I’ve babysat these kids long enough to know what the fuck Dungeons and Dragons is. I just haven’t played it.” 

“You’re an enigma, Steve Harrington- but that’s not a bad thing.” Eddie crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Steve, as if trying to piece him apart with his eyes. 

Steve stepped out of the kitchen doorway and made a show out of looking at his watch. “Ah, shit, look at the time! Dustin’s friends will be here any minute, you should set up for the game, I’m gonna order pizza.” 

“... alright, man. Sounds good.” Eddie moved back to the dining room, taking a seat at the head of the table to begin setting up the oneshot he had planned while Steve got to work ordering pizza. 

Steve ended up being correct- the kids started to arrive a few seconds after he hung up the phone with the local pizza place. They all rushed to Steve, which was predictable, seeing as they hadn’t really met Eddie yet- but after Steve introduced them to the Dungeon Master and told them the plan for Dustin’s birthday, they began to glom onto the guy and ask a million questions about the campaign, high school, and anything else that came to mind. 

Eddie seemed to take the questions in stride and match the kid’s energy with his own. He even got El and Max excited about D&D. Steve wasn’t exactly sure how the kids got Hopper to allow Eleven out of the cabin, but he wasn’t about to ask any questions. Ignorance is bliss, right? 

Dustin and Claudia ended up arriving home shortly after the pizzas arrived. Claudia entered the house first and set the shopping down in the entryway, then led Dustin to the dining room, her hands over his eyes. The entire time, Dustin put up a fuss about his eyes being covered. 

He fell quiet a few seconds later, when her hands fell from his eyes, and all of the kids shouted ‘surprise’! 

Dustin’s grinned when he saw everyone, and he immediately ran to his friends, hugging them as he looked around the room, shocked. “Whoa! Mom, did you do all this? How?”

Claudia put her hands in the air, a knowing smile on her face. “This was all Steve and Eddie, Dusty, I just got them to throw your birthday party.”

Dustin’s smile grew impossibly wider as he rushed across the room to hug Claudia- then turned and hugged Steve, then Eddie. Steve was used to the boy’s hugs by now, but the way Eddie’s eyes grew wide in shock, then a bit glossy as he returned the hug, told Steve that maybe this was Eddie’s first time being hugged by the boy.  

After Dustin finished his round of thank-you’s, the kids ravaged the pizza and got straight into playing the campaign, eager to play with a new DM for the first time. Steve found a spot to watch them from the kitchen while he multi-tasked with cleaning up from the kid’s lunch and getting cake ready. 

Claudia has long since abandoned the group of kids, eager to sort through the shopping she and Dustin had done. About an hour after things started, though, she joined Steve in the kitchen. 

“I can’t thank you boys enough for what you put together. It looks amazing in there, and Dusty looks so happy.” Ms. Henderson kept her voice quiet enough that it wouldn’t travel to the dining room. “I know Dustin doesn’t have too many friends- my boy can be a lot for some people, and I’m not naive to that. Still, he loves the people he has. You and Eddie aren’t exceptions to that. He’s not old enough to remember when Walter passed, but… well, I’m just glad he has you two as role models. Men to look up to, y’know?” 

Steve’s eyes shifted to Eddie as Claudia spoke, and he felt himself grow emotional at her words. “I mean… friends are one thing, Ms. Henderson, but role models? I’m a washed-up jock and Eddie is…” Steve trailed off, frowning to himself. 

“I know what Eddie is, Steve. I’ve heard enough around town. Still, you have to admit, he has a strong work ethic and he’s passionate in the same ways Dustin is. As for you- well, Steve, I’ve put together enough to understand how strong you are, and how fiercely you protect the ones you love. I don’t think I could ask for two better role models for Dustin.” 

“Oh.” Steve felt his cheeks grow warm, and swiped a hand over his eyes to brush away the tears gathering there. “Uh… thank you, Ms. Henderson. That’s really sweet of you to say.” 

“Thank you for being here for my boy. Not just now, not just for this, but for everything you’ve done. It means the world to us.” She pulled Steve into a hug, and Steve hugged her right back. 

“Yeah, of course. He’s…” Steve trailed off, his eyes shifting to the dining room. He could still see Dustin over Claudia’s shoulder. The kid was sitting up on his knees in his chair, practically folded in half as he tried to move one of the figures across the map on the table. “He’s a great kid.” 

Later, after the campaign had ended, after all the kids had their fill of the D20 cake that Steve had baked, after the party was cleaned up, the guests had gone home, and Dustin had gone to bed, Steve found himself leaving the Henderson home with Eddie by his side. 

“I’d say we did a pretty good job for our first time working together, Harrington.” Eddie nudged their shoulders together as they walked to their cars, a playful smirk gracing his features. 

“Yeah, we did do pretty well, didn’t we?” Steve smiled. 

Eddie turned towards his car, apparently heading out, but Steve put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder to stop him. “I know you’re not graduating this year, but- the next gathering with everyone will be a graduation party that Mrs. Byers- Will’s mom- and Ms. Henderson are throwing for me. It’d be cool if you came.” 

Eddie raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You want me at your graduation party?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I have many other friends my age. It’ll be right after the graduation ceremony. I can pick you up on the way, if you want. I’d really like it if you were there.” 

Eddie’s expression turned more vulnerable after that- delicate, breakable. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Cool.” Eddie swallowed nervously, shoving his hands in his jacket. “I’ll see you then, I guess. You’ll pick me up?” 

Steve nodded, letting his hand drop from Eddie’s shoulder. “I should be to your house around noon, yeah.” 

“Cool.” Eddie repeated, and without another word, darted off to clammer into his van. He was gone from the Henderson household in seconds. 

Steve rolled his eyes fondly at Eddie’s antics, and couldn’t wipe the smile on his face. 

Eddie Munson was a weirdo. 

It was a good thing that Steve liked to collect weirdos.

[cielie-voss]

A will to live.

~Gareth x Henderson!Reader

Summary: the world's been crashing down on y/n Henderson again. Her brother was desperately looking for help from one of his sister's best friend, Gareth.

Warning: depression, self doubt, bad jokes, cringe pet names.

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

Song mentioned is Metal Health (bang your head) by Quiet Riot. Absolutely recommend listening to that song.

Masterlist

Once again the world seemed to weigh me down. Sunken in a swamp, surrounded by negative thoughts, self doubt and hopelessness. My body felt empty, numb, but my head was buzzing with racing thoughts. So many and so fast, even if I tried to catch them, they slipped out of my hands like smoke and vanished.

I pushed the door open and as soon as it closed behind me with a click, a sigh left my body from deep down. My tensed shoulders relaxed and slumped down, my back pack glided to the ground. Plomp.

Lazy I kicked my shoes into the corner and threw my jacket on the hanger. Luckily it stuck to one of the hooks. Otherwise I could've prepared myself to be awfully bawled out by my mum.

"Hey, Y/N! You're pretty late! You hungry?" My brother's voice echoed from the kitchen but barely reached my ears as I instantly put on my headphones I dug out my bag.

"Okay?!" He mouthed as he watched me prowl into my room. With furrowed brows he followed me.

Mother says that I never never mind her, Got no brains I'm insane, Teacher says that I′m one big pain, Kevin's voice fought forcefully against the buzzing voices in my mind, overstimulated my brain, encapsulated myself from the world around me.

The door slammed shut behind me and before I could notice, my body plumped down on my bed and buried itself in the blankets and pillows.

"Dude, what happened at school?" Dustin hissed through the phone.

"I don't know, man. Only thing I know is, she and Eddie fought over some shit and Eddie left. Something about next Saturday." Gareth ran his hands through his stubborn hair, pacing back and forth after Dustin told him about his best friends not so well-being.

"Next Saturday?" Dustin repeated.

"Yeah, next Saturday. Why?"

Dustin rubbed his face, leaned back and peeked his head through the doorway, making sure my door was closed.

"Yeah, our mom's birthday." Dustin sighed. "Mom is kinda … putting her under pressure and mocking her because she is still single. No boy would like her and bla bla, you know? Y/N said she had a date for moms birthday. I suspected she was trying to prove herself to mom. Never thought she was going to ask Eddie. That would've scared the shit outta Mom, kinda revenge for the way Mom treated her."

"And Eddie didn't want to go.", Gareth added. "And with that he somewhat confirmed her concerns and self doubt."

"Does she even want me to come?" Gareth broke the silence.

"Y/N?" Dustin's voice shrilled through the hallway.

"No." I screeched back.

"Do you want Gareth to come over?"

"No!"

"Okay!" He turned back to the phone and whispered "God, please come over."

"Alright, I'll be there in a few minutes. Just gotta do the groceries first. Does she need anything?"

Carefully Dustin opened my door and stepped inside.

"He needs to go grocery shopping first, do you need something?" Dustin repeated Gareth’s question.

"A will to live.", I groaned before turning back into my fort of pillows, blankets and plushies.

"Okay, got it.", he said to Dustin through the phone and hung up. Dustin knelt down next to my bed, a worried expression on his face. "He'll be here in no time, promise.", he said and gently ruffled my hair before he left my room.

To silence the thoughts in my head and distract my busy mind I turned on the TV. With the sound of a random game show in the background, I crawled out of bed and started to do anything. Sorting my socks, carrying my stack of books from one place to another, cutting dried leaves from my plants, carrying the stack of books again across my room only to realize some moments later that they’re in my way again. Completely powerless I let my arms drop in defeat, realizing I’m in a never ending circle. A sigh escaped my lips and I simply sat down on my floor, overwhelmed by everything around me.

Without me noticing it, the doorbell rang and Dustin let Gareth in.

“Thank god.”, Dusting said, relieved to see his friend.

“Is she in her room?” My brother nodded and stepped aside to let Gareth past him.

As Gareth stepped into my room, he found me crouched down on the floor, the game show still playing in the background.

“Hey, Y/N/N.”, he sat down next to me, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Sadly they ran out of fresh will to live this morning, but I got something similar for you.”

His joke, even if unintended, brought a soft smile on my lips. He leaned to his side, digging in his bag. With curiosity glimmering in my wide eyes, I leaned forward, trying to see what he got there. But as I leaned forward he tried to cover his bag with his body, as if he didn’t want me to see what’s in there. I pressed my back against my bed again in defeat, waiting for him to show me what he got.

“Okay, so here we have some chocolate.” He placed the stack of different kinds of chocolate in front of me. Chocolate bars with nuts, with caramel, dried fruits, dark chocolate, with cookies. “And if that’s not the right will to live, I got some crackers too.” The pile of chocolate was upgraded by some packs of crackers. “And if that isn’t enough, I’ve got ice cream and sodas too. And some warheads.” He placed the rest on the mountain of wills to live and looked at me. “Wanna start with the ice cream?”

Baffled by the amount of sweets he got, it took me a second to nod.

“Yeah. Sure, ice cream is great.”, I stammered. “Let me get us some spoons.” As I got up to get the spoons, he got up too and arranged my pillows and blankets so that we could comfortably sit on my bed.

With two spoons in hand i got back to my room, Gareth already found his place on my bed, the pile of snacks and sodas carefully sorted in front of him.

“You want cookie dough or cherry garcia?” As I plumped down next to him, I grabbed the cherry garcia one and handed him his spoon. For some minutes we just sat there, eating our ice cream and looking at the TV from time to time when the music indicated something exciting would happen. I was halfway through my cup of ice as he carefully asked “You wanna talk?”

For a second I froze, sorting my mind, deciding where to start. “I don’t know.”, I declared hesitantly.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can simply sit here right next to you, you know?”

I let out a sigh, rubbed my feet nervously against each other like a cricket. “Lately it’s been simply too much for me.”

“What?”, he wanted to know, cocked his head and looked at me.

“I don’t know. Everything.”, I shrugged and looked at him. “Simply everything is too much. Waking up. Going to school. Talk to people. Hear them talking bullshit about me. About you and Eddie and Jeff and … I can’t stand this anymore. I don’t know. I’m just so overwhelmed by everything right now. I feel like no one likes me. Neither my friends, nor my family. You know what? Mom always tells me after I get something else but an A+ 'I guess your brother got all the good brain cells'. Like what mother says that? I’m scared of the future. Where will I end up? I don’t even know what I wanna do after school! Mom wants me to go study somewhere. But what if I don’t want to study? What if I just want to get a simple job? But what kind of job would I wanna do? I don’t know.” The more I let my thoughts out unfiltered, the more my eyes filled with tears. I sniffed as I continued.

“I know so much, but why do I don’t know what I want? I don’t even really know who I am anymore! And I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me but everything just doesn’t feel right and I have no idea how to change that!” I ran my fingers through my hair and wiped away the few tears that rolled down my cheek.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“Please don’t ever apologize for crying again, okay?” Gently he grabbed my chin and turned my face towards him. “And there is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with you, not even close. It’s okay that you don’t know yet what you wanna do. There is so much time to figure it out, you know? You are a teenager, how are you supposed to know how you wanna spend the rest of your life?” He looked at me with his big round eyes, boring into my soul.

“Come here.” Gareth took my cup of ice cream and set it aside with his. Like a warm and soft blanket, he wrapped his arms around me, held me tight and gently stroked my hair. I melted into this embrace, my head pressed against his chest, my fingers clasped around the woolen fabric of his flannel. The steady pounding of his heart had a soothing impact on me. It’s hard to explain, but I kind of felt safe.

“You just have to test out what you think you would like to do, you know? And if you don’t like it, try something else until you find something you like.”

“You’re right. And I absolutely hate to admit that.”, I groaned, as I buried my face in his chest.

“I know.”, he laughed and gently squeezed me tighter.

"And we do like you. Very much to be honest. Sometimes even more than your little, idiot brother."

"Liar." I grumbled and buried my face deeper into his chest, inhaling his scent, feeling his heartbeat.

"I would be lying if I told you I don't like you the most out of all of us." His giggles were vibrating through his chest.

It took me a second to comprehend what he just said. But when I understood, a wave of a warm, unknown feeling washed over me. I tried to press my arms against him to push me away from him so I could look at him properly.

"Wait, what did you just say?"

Even though I tried to push me away with all my strength, his strong arms held me close to his body, squeezed me against him. "Oh, nothing. And now come here my little snuggle-puggle."

"Snuggle-puggle? Oh my god, now I know you're completely insane!" I laughed out, but hugged him tighter as the new feeling of warmth spread through my whole body, painting a soft smile around my lips.

xxx

Thank you for reading! 🫶 If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

[nburkhardt]

Hello, what if Mike notices something off with Steve? Like, going off the whole “Steve pulling away” troupe and the only person who notices is goddamn Mike Wheeler, not Dustin or Lucas or even Nancy. Mike, the one who swears up and down he doesn’t care for Steve. That Mike.

Before Vecna: Mike realizes something’s off when Dustin starts biking again, bitching about Steve and how he keeps not answering his messages. They had only just started at Hellfire, he never mentioned Steve to anyone there. Dustin and Lucas did once and was immediately shut down by Eddie and the rest of the older kids. He notices Dustin and Lucas not speaking about Steve not long after that and it’s around that time when Dustin’s biking. It’s really confirmed when he goes into Family Video and Steve immediately freezes and turns around to let Robin handle the front.

Or it’s After Vecna: He gets back from Nevada, after it’s all finished and doesn’t immediately notice the difference but it does make itself known a few weeks after everyone is out of the hospital and Hawkins isn’t falling apart. Everyone but Steve is gathered at his house, he doesn’t actually realize Steve is missing until Eddie mentions the boathouse. No one else seemed to even register that Steve wasn’t there, he doesn’t bring it up because Robin also wasn’t in the room so maybe they were together at work or something, could be a one off, ya know? But it’s not and it kept happening, everyone else sorta notices but it’s not until around Steve’s birthday (I’m just throwing ideas out now 😃) and Nancy knows it, so Mike knows it. But none of his friends even mentions it?? And he’s so confused, because not even Dustin who swore up and down was Steve’s best friend. Nancy’s the one that makes the comment though, Mike is stubborn okay?! She tells all of them how rude it is that they planned a dnd night on Steve’s birthday and how when she called him, it was Robin that told her how the kids didn’t care about him.

Anyway, TL;DR…. Mike notices Steve pull away before anyone else (not Robin obviously, Robin is Steve’s number 1 supporter and WILL also pull away 😌)

[devondespresso]

my favorite headcanons are the accidental ones, when you're writing something small and fun and you wonder when this has happened to this character before, with who, when, and why.

One second Steve is winning a pillow fight with Dustin and the next I just know about Carol's 10th birthday party where she started the first of many pillows fights with Tommy and Steve, playing dirty and using pure strategy to win, despite both her opponents being sporty prepubescent boys. Steve and Carol used to get into little showdowns, trying to outsmart the other one on one, and occasionally Tommy and Steve would team up to try and figure out a counter to Carol's latest trick. To Carol it was living her teen movie dream, to Tommy it was an outlet, and to Steve it was a confirmation of friendship.

(no clue if ill ever find a seamless way to incorporate this into the fic, but i love it regardless)

[chrisbitchtree]

The One Where the Small Things are the Big Things and the Best Boyfriend is the One That Tries

For Harringrove Week day 1

Prompt - Pigs in a Blanket

1.4k - T

***

Steve sat up in bed, propped up by pillows and the headboard, sipping from a mug of hot, black coffee, watching Billy sleep on his stomach, his shoulders rising and falling as he snored lightly. Steve fought the urge to run his hands down the expanse of golden skin, instead opting to let Billy sleep a little bit longer before his shift at the campus library. He’d been up late the night before, studying for midterms, and Steve knew he needed every minute of rest that he could get.

Instead, he used the quiet time to fret about his plans for Billy’s birthday. It was their first year celebrating it in California, far from the bounty of friends and family that they’d left in Hawkins when they’d made the move the summer before.

They’d arrived here, in San Diego, just before Steve’s birthday late last July, and the kids had sent along a whole slew of gifts and cards for him to open when he woke up on his birthday morning, plus Robin, Dustin, and Max had gotten together to call him and sing happy birthday, almost bringing a tear to his eye as their voices piped tinnily through the phone line.

Max had assured Steve multiple times that Billy’s box of cards and gifts would be on it’s way soon, finally confirming that she’d delivered the package to the post office the day before, so he would have that, but Steve had wanted to do more.

Thankfully, with a little help from his friend Betty Crocker, Steve would be able to make Billy’s favourite chocolate fudge cake easily enough, and he’d requested a simple dinner of tacos from the taco truck they frequented, for dinner, but Steve was still worried that he wouldn’t be able to make Billy’s customary birthday breakfast, pigs in a blanket.

The first time they’d celebrated Billy’s birthday as a couple, the blonde had stayed tight lipped on any preferences that he had for his big day, shrugging and telling Steve that whatever he came up with would be fine with Billy. Steve had tried and tried to get more to go on, but even grilling Max hadn’t revealed much.

Billy had seemed pleased enough with the white cake with chocolate icing that Steve had made him, but Steve didn’t want to settle for pleased. He wanted Billy to feel joyful and have a sense of childlike happiness that he probably hadn’t experienced in a long time, so one night, while he and Billy were drunk at the quarry, he’d gotten Billy to open up.

At first, he’d shared simple details. How his mom had always covered the top of his cake in rainbow sprinkles and had baked coins inside for him to find, once he was old enough to not try to chomp down on them or choke, or how her voice sounded like an angel’s when she’d sing him Happy Birthday.

Then he’d shared a bit more. How one year, he’d wanted a Barbie so badly he’d told his mom she never needed to buy him another birthday present ever again. At first, she’d told him it might be better to pick something else, but after weeks and weeks of begging, she’d relented, and it had become their little secret, something Billy only played with after school, in the small window of time between his afternoon snack and Neil arriving home from the office.

Another secret that he and his mother kept between the two of them was that she would let Billy stay home from school on his birthday. They would spend the whole day together, just the two of them, going on an adventure of Billy’s choosing. But not before he ate his special birthday breakfast of pigs in a blanket.

The meal had been his choice. His mother had said that he could have anything that he wanted for breakfast on his birthday, anything at all. He’d seen her serve pigs in a blanket at a dinner party a month prior, and thought they were the height of luxury, so the request was made and gladly fulfilled. They saw Neil off to work, then curled up in Billy’s bed together, eating a whole tray of the little puff pastry wrapped cocktail wieners, using toothpicks to dip them in a mix of ketchup and mustard. It was a little thing that meant so much.

He'd shared that memory with Steve as tears fell from the corners of his eyes, glistening like jewels on his cheeks in the moonlight. Steve had filed that bit of information away, vowing to use it to give Billy a little bit of birthday magic the next year.

It had been easy enough to convince Claudia Henderson to make them the next year. All he had to do was bat his eyelashes a couple times and tell her that it would mean a lot to both Billy and him, and she was practically insisting that she whip him up a batch.

As predicted, Billy had loved them. He and Steve had laid in bed together, devouring the whole large tray while Billy regaled Steve with all sorts of stories from his childhood. Trips to the beach, warm chocolate chip cookies baked with his mom, karate lessons and hiking in the woods. They’d then spent the rest of the day watching movies on the couch before making their way back to bed for sex and birthday cake.

The next year had been much the same, with Claudia again providing the pigs in a blanket, but Steve had also thrown Billy a small party, with the kids and Robin and Heather in attendance, and Billy had cried in bed that night while thanking Steve for a perfect day.

Steve was on his own for the pigs in a blanket though. He’d practiced a couple times while Billy was at work, following Claudia’s instructions to a T, but he just couldn’t get it to turn out properly. The first time, the pastry was greasy and flat, and the second time, the pastry was burnt on the outside and undercooked and goopy on the inside. He just had to hope that it would turn out on Billy’s birthday.

***

Despite all of Steve’s hopes and wishes and crossed fingers, it didn’t turn out. Steve had hoped that by the time Billy woke up, he would be back in the room with a tray of piping hot pigs in a blanket, but instead, Billy found him giving a ball of buttery mush a death glare. He tried to get in front of the mess so Billy wouldn’t see, but he was too late.

“What ’cha got there, pretty boy?” Billy asked, a soft smile on his face, as he pressed his bare chest up against Steve’s back and peered over his shoulder. He pressed a kiss just below Steve’s ear, and Steve could instantly feel some of the tension in his body melt away.

“It was supposed to be your birthday breakfast,” Steve grumbled, punching the dough. “But I ruined it. I just wanted to do this one special thing for you and I can’t get the pastry right and it’s a mess. You deserve perfection.”

Billy spun Steve around and lifted his chin when he tried to duck his head. He looked right into Steve’s eyes. “You know the fact that you tried means more than any perfect breakfast could, right? Every single day you put in so much effort to make sure I have a good life. My life is amazing all because of you. Pigs in a blanket or no pigs in a blanket, this is going to be my best birthday yet, because I’m spending it with you. Got that?”

Steve nodded, and Billy kissed him, cupping his hands at the back of Steve’s head.

“I do have an idea though,” Billy said, a smile spreading over his face. “Do you have any wieners left?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, confused. “But we don’t have any pastry, and we don’t even have hot dog buns. What are you going to do?”

Billy turned to the fridge, rooting around for a minute before reappearing with a tube of Pillsbury crescent rolls in his hand. “We are going to make pigs in a blanket. Together. Then we’re going to get back in bed and feed them to each other, then you’re going to fuck me good and deep, and then we’re going to eat cake and tacos. Lots of cake and tacos. Best. Birthday. Ever.”

Steve found that he couldn’t disagree.

[lilac--sugar]

The Party, the whole extended party, is at the Byers-Hopper home. Well, all but Max. They’re all congregated around the kitchen table as Lucas explains his plans for Max’s surprise birthday party. He’s got hand drawn diagrams that he’s pointing to, talking excitedly. He wants everything to be perfect.

“Got it?” Lucas asks and everyone nods, everyone but Steve.

“I don’t get it,” he comments which prompts a few eye rolls and a groan from Dustin.

“Well, essentially,” Eddie starts, nudging Steve’s arm gently and pointing down at one of Lucas’s cartoonish stick figure like pictures.

“We don’t have time for this,” Dustin groans again.

“Right, if we want to catch Max as she’s coming back from the skate park we’ve got to get moving!” Nancy says, grabbing up her purse.

Robin gives Steve a sympathetic pat on the back as she hurries after Nancy. Everyone was divvied up into different tasks and already splitting off. Steve is left standing there with his brow furrowed as he looks down at the pictures.

“Come on!” Dustin‘s waving at Steve and Eddie as he makes his way out the door to Steve’s car. The three of them are on pizza duty.

Eddie quickly scrambles to scoop up all the drawings, “Come on, handsome, I’ll explain while you drive,” he says, slipping his free hand into Steve’s, pulling him along. An action not uncommon between the two of them. Both of them comfortable enough with their little affections, always left wanting more but just never speaking up. Both a little afraid to.

“No, I mean, I get it. It’s just,” he shuts the door behind them as they pass over the threshold, “won’t she know something’s up if all our cars are parked outside the house?”

Eddie stops dead in his tracks, causing Steve to bump into the back of him.

“Steve, you glorious bastard,” Eddie’s breaking out into a giant grin, the kind Steve likes to think he saves only for him, “Dusty buns! Radio the crew and tell them to park down the street!” He shouts.

Dustin returns with a quick, “Rodger! Also! Don’t call me that!”

“Not gonna do that!” Eddie shouts back before turning back to Steve, “You’re so smart I could kiss you,” Eddie says, his grin turning more playful, head tilting as his eyes slip down to Steve’s lips. Steve doesn’t know how to respond to that. He opens his mouth like he’s going to, cheeks blooming vibrant pink. Eddie quickly cuts him off, “No time, however! We have a quest to finish!” Eddie flings the two of them off into the direction of the car.

“Maybe later though,” Eddie teases as they settle down into their seats, Dustin popping his head between them.

“Maybe later, what?” He asks, looking between the two.

“Don’t worry your little head,” Eddie says, flicking Dustin’s hat off to ruffle his hair. When Dustin ducks back to grab his hat Eddie winks at Steve.

“You’re all bark and no bite,” Steve says, throwing caution to the wind. He’s tired of not speaking up, much to Eddie’s surprise, his eyebrows popping up. After a second a devious grin slowly creeps over Eddie’s face, one that would rival that of the Grinch’s.

“Is that so?" Eddie asks, Steve nodding in reply, "Oh, you’re on,” Eddie’s curling his tongue over his upper lip. Dustin pops his head between them once more.

“Promise?” Steve asks.

“Promise.” Eddie confirms. Dustin’s ping ponging his eyes between the two.

“Good,” Steve says simply, starting the car and pulling away.

“Good,” Eddie echoes.

“What the hell is happening!?” Dustin asks, for once being utterly out of the loop.

“Sit back and put your seatbelt on!” Steve quips.

“But-“

“Listen to your mother!” Eddie shoots back and Dustin just rolls his eyes as the other two share a glance and a grin.