#Gareth: ��They dated

[morganbritton132]

My HC based on nothing is that Gareth’s mom was Steve’s piano teacher for years until he needed a more advanced one. So while Eddie is lamenting his big embarrassing crush on Steve “The Hair” Harrington, Gareth is silently sitting there cursed with the knowledge that’s Steve’s actually kinda nice.

Eddie grumbles about how Harrington is an insensitive asshole and Gareth knows that Steve gets teary-eyed when he can’t pick up a new piano piece of music fast enough. Eddie complains about Harrington’s perfect life and Gareth is forced to remember the fourteen piano recitals his mom took him to and how Steve’s parents were at two of them.

Eddie overhears Steve mention a demogorgon to Nancy Wheeler in the hallway and scoffs about how Steve knows nothing about D&D. Gareth is rudely reminded of the time Steve sat on his front porch waiting for his mom to pick him up and listened to Gareth ramble on about the new role playing game he just learned about. The meanest thing Steve said about it was, “No offense, that sounds like a nightmare. Math and public speaking, no thanks.”

[wheneverfeasible]

TW: brief homophobic language

Steve plays the piano.

When he was a kid, Steve’s mom made him take piano lessons. He honestly hated it, hated how strict his instructor was, hated that he had to spend hours practicing when he could have been playing with his new friend Tommy. The thing was, Steve was good at it. He had an ear for music and could pick up songs after just hearing them a couple of times, even if they weren’t piano songs. There were also brief moments that his mom would actually pay attention to him, would sit at the piano bench with him and play her favorite songs.

Around middle school his dad told him that only pansies played piano, cutting an end to his lessons and instead enlisting him in every sport he could. Steve liked sports. He was good at that too, and at first his dad paid attention to him too which was amazing, but it only lasted one season. That was fine. Steve loved sports.

Then Steve met Robin, and they laughed at how horrible Tammy sounded singing, because even all this time he still had an ear for music. Then he met Eddie, and even though it wasn’t really his type of music, he could tell how talented Eddie was whenever he heard the older boy play after the world tried to end but they stopped it.

Steve and Eddie grew closer, and sometimes Steve even attended Corroded Coffin practice if he was free, much to Gareth’s original annoyance, and the music kind of grew on him. Sometimes he’d find himself singing the songs to himself in the shower or doing chores, or tapping out chords on the steering wheel when he drove Robin or the kids anywhere.

Steve was at one of these band’s practices when he noticed a keyboard set off to the side. He vaguely recalled Eddie ranting one day about the band arguing if they were going to add a keyboardist to their group or not, but the idea had been scrapped several months ago when they couldn’t agree on the sound.

During an intermission in the practice, while the band was all inside the house getting fresh drinks (Eddie was getting his for him), Steve hesitated before moving to the keyboard. He’d never played a keyboard before, and it had been years since he touched a piano after his father got rid of theirs when he started sports. He didn’t think he’d even remember how.

Despite this, his fingers moved with assurance over the keys, not playing one of the songs he’d learned in his youth but the song Eddie and his band had been playing just before break. His natural affinity for music had him able to translate the chords into piano keys easily, and he sort of lost himself in the music he plucked out for the first time in his life.

It wasn’t until the ending notes were lingering in the air and the sound of applause began behind them that he realized the band had returned, Eddie’s eyes gleaming above a wide smile while Gareth rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Your boyfriend can join the band,” the curly haired youth said, sounding aggrieved, but there was a curl to his lips that said that he was impressed.

Which was how Steve, former King of Hawkins High, found himself as the fifth member of the metal band Corroded Coffin as its keyboardist.

It also took until a week later, after his first official practice as part of the band, for him to realize that neither he nor Eddie protested Gareth’s claim of them being boyfriends.

[estelle-speaks]

Ok ok I’ve been thinking a lot about @morganbritton132 Steve’s older siblings au and I love the idea of him becoming an uncle at 2 because of the crazy age gap. Then I also started thinking about the theory of Gareth and Steve being cousins but may I raise you one better and say Uncle Steve and his nephew Gareth. PLEASE ITS BEEN PLAGUING MY BRAIN. It’s so funny. Like imagine the shit he’d get from the boys. Eddie constantly making jokes about banging Gareth’s uncle. Gareth is disgusted by the whole thing.

[thisapplepielife]

Submitted for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Funko Corroded Coffin

Day #26 - Tour Date A diorama of a tour date for the Funko Pop versions of Corroded Coffin.

Info: We haven't had many "other" entries for CCF, so I decided to snap some pictures of my little custom Corroded Coffin display for fun, just to add something different to the event.

Road Manager Steve has his red milk crate to stand on, and is carrying a bag of cash. Gareth's drum set is a real Funko one, I just added the Corroded Coffin logo to it. (It's definitely Tuesday's-coded by including Di and the red milk crates.)

As for the figures themselves, Eddie is the only standard-issue Funko. Gareth, Goodie & Jeff were all custom ordered to be painted like themselves from S4. And I made Steve and Di myself by doing some head-swapping, lol.

And, yes, I felt like I was playing Barbies moving them all around to take pictures, haha.

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 5 of November Paramedic; part 4 is here and the AO3 version is here.)

Liquid sound courses through Eddie's body. His fingers dance over Sweetheart's strings, hitting every note perfectly. Behind him, Gareth is going at the drums like a beast while Jeff and Marv have gravitated together, now playing back-to-back. In front of him, a wall of people is pogoing, restricted by The Behemoth's 'no moshing policy'. When he launches into the solo, their headbanging turns so vicious they're but a wild sea of hair with haphazard devil horns sticking up. Solo over, he grabs the mic to roar the outro lyrics.

The audience screams; Eddie's ears ring. His veins hold more adrenaline than blood and his life has never been better.

"Thank you! You've been glorious tonight!" He sweeps his sweat-soaked hair from his face and winks at a cluster of girls in the front row. "We're Corroded Coffin and you'll see us here again soon. For now, thank you and good night!"

On his way off the stage, he catches one of the girls' hand and drops a kiss on her palm. She beams, face pink, as her friends shriek.

It's not his favorite thing about performing. He likes playing on stage because of the release, because of the building nervosity that erupts with the music. He likes it because it's fun. But the electricity between him and the crowd? The charged looks of pure want from men and women alike?

It doesn't make it worse. He's not burdened by being desired.

They congratulate each other outside as they deposit their guitars and few pieces of personal equipment in Eddie's van. Gareth is especially bouncy, telling Eddie over and over how he was great, he was on fire, he was invincible. Eddie would've questioned the post-show hype if he hadn't immediately demanded they go back inside for drinks; if Gareth thinks he can flatter himself into a free round, he's correct.

After the fresh June night, the air inside The Behemoth is stiflingly hot. It plus the hum of the patrons leave a cloying buzz in the back of his head. He might only stay for the one round before going home. Possibly two if those front-row ladies decide to pay; they're eyeing him right now. Sure, they're not Eddie's type, but that's what the other guys are there for.

Except when the women approach, Gareth shuts them off by pulling Marv in between them and steering Eddie in the opposite direction. Pushing Eddie forward, seemingly uncaring if Jeff and Marv keep up, he goes on his tip toes and hops every other step to peer above the crowd.

"Are you looking for someone?" Eddie asks.

"Noo, I just thought I saw someone at the bar…"

"Yeah, that means you're looking for someone, dipshit. Who is it?"

"It's… Uh…" Gareth says inattentively, scanning the bar area.

A large hand clamps around Eddie's shoulder, turning him around. He promptly swallows his tongue.

"Dude, you were great!" Steve says, smiling so big it could sustain a small country with power for the winter.

His hair is fluffy tonight, lying in a soft swoop. He's wearing a charcoal Henley, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tufts of chest hair peeking out from between the undone buttons. And he's got glasses on. Fucking glasses. Thin wireframes, an elegant complement to his beautiful face and delicate contrast to his hunky everything else.

Eddie's reply is strangled nonsense that drowns in Gareth's shouted, "Hey! You made it!"

"Yeah, man! Thanks for the invite!" Steve says, extending his hand for a shake.

"Anytime, dude! S'great to see you," Gareth replies, slapping and grabbing Steve's hand in a perfectly executed man-shake. Like they're a pair of fucking frat bros.

But that isn't the important part. No, the important part here is the word 'invite'. Who, when, where, and above all what the fuck??

"We loved it!" Robin says from half behind Steve. Because of course she's also here, wearing a patterned blazer that should clash with her differently patterned button down, yet doesn't. She continues gushing about the performance as Steve nods along and the rest of the band interject their gratitude whenever she pauses for breath for longer than a second. Eddie is the only one who hasn't said a peep.

He needs to fucking peep.

"Glasses!"

His exclamation has the others turn and stare so fast their necks snap. He ignores Gareth's snicker, cheeks burning. One of these days he will run into Steve without acting like a fool, but not today.

"What?" Steve says, his already huge eyes magnified by the glass. Damn, his lashes are long and dark.

"Y-You got glasses. I didn't know that."

Steve's brows jump, as if he forgot he's wearing them. He briefly goes cross-eyed as he tries to look at the spectacles resting on his nose. Then he lets out a giggle that's so cute it hurts.

"Oh, yeah. I usually wear contacts, but they expired and the new ones haven't arrived yet." He scratches beneath his eye, pushing the glasses askew. "I'd just wear the expired ones, but…"

"No!" Robin snaps. "It's bad for your eyes!"

"Yeah."

"You need to take care of yourself!"

Steve levels her with an unimpressed look, cocked eyebrow and pursed, plush lips included. "That's rich coming from someone who stopped eating halfway through an Alfred Hitchcock marathon because she didn't want to pause Saboteur to go grocery shopping."

Robin puts a scandalized hand to her chest. "I'm a linguist, not a medic. I can do whatever I want."

"That's not-"

"Anyway!" She smiles at Eddie and the guys. "You rocked. We had a blast. Steve even danced."

"That wasn't dancing. I was keeping you from faceplanting when you tripped over your own feet."

"Steve, go buy us drinks," Robin says.

"Why me?"

"They brought the entertainment; we'll bring the refreshments. And I'm broke. So chop-chop!"

She claps twice an inch from his nose tip. Steve rolls his eyes, but obliges, striding off toward the bar. Robin emits a witchlike cackle at getting her way.

Eddie elbows Gareth in the ribs hard, gritting out, "You invited them, huh?"

Gareth grins impishly even as he rubs the most certainly bruising spot. However, Robin's villainous glee melts away; she frowns.

"Is that a problem?" she asks.

Shit.

"Oh, no, no!" he says.

"Never!" Gareth shouts.

"New faces in the audience is always a cause for celebration," Marv says.

"He just didn't expect to see you, is all." Jeff steps between Eddie and Robin, wearing a disarming smile. "Gareth didn't tell any of us we had special guests waiting, but it's great to have you here. I'm Jeff."

Robin hums and appraises them with suspicion, eyes lingering on Eddie. Then she smiles; it would've been pleasant if it wasn't so sharp.

"Let's grab a table," she says.

They pick one in the quieter part of the bar. The booths don't fit more than four people, five if you're determined, but they solve it by having Gareth perch on the adjacent window ledge and by Robin sitting on Steve's lap.

It's first when Robin asks for details about the band that Eddie realizes how golden the opportunity is. The previous times he's met Steve, he's been at a disadvantage. Injured, caught by surprise, distracted by tight jeans or sweat rolling down necks. And yeah, he was surprised today, too. And he won't claim that it's easy to focus whenever Steve reaches for his glass, exposed forearm flexing with the movement.

Nevertheless, this is Eddie's turf. This is his stage. Here, he is king. And he will hold court like his life depends on it.

He talks about the band. He talks about their influences, about guitars, about the lyrics he writes. Robin participates in the conversation by making connections to punk music, but Steve only listens, eyes darting between them all like it's a five-way ping pong match and his attention is the ball. But mostly, he's in Eddie's palm, staring like only he has the answers. Fuck, like he is the answer.

It's enough to give a guy a god complex. The person who was created to be looked at is now looking at him.

It makes him bolder. Makes him touch Steve more, touch him longer. Close the distance between them when he speaks and zeros in on Steve's lips when he replies. And Steve… responds? He thinks? It's difficult to tell, because Steve's reciprocal touches are restricted by the lapful of Robin, and he seems to have a habit of looking at everyone's mouth when they talk. The boys appear optimistic, though, sending him encouraging signals from across the table and the window. He'll just have to use it as fuel and keep on trucking.

Somewhere along the way they move on to D&D. Steve remains enrapt by Eddie's every word, hanging on to the golden threads he spins. His only actual contribution comes at the end, asking if their game has space for one more. Eddie’s pulse jumps in his throat.

"Methinks we do." He leans back, exposing his neck, while giving Steve his best bedroom eyes from above the rim of his glass. "Why, you interested?"

"Not me," Steve says; Eddie barely has the willpower to smack his head against the table with disappointment. "But Lucas plays. Or he used to. His… what's the term? His group?"

"Party," Jeff says.

"Party. They're scattered all over the world now. I think he misses it."

"He hasn't said anything about it, but…" Robin trails off. Steve jostles her.

"You never talk about band, but you miss the trumpet like hell, don't you?"

"Ugh, I dooooooo!" she says, kicking her legs.

"We can bring him aboard and see how he fits," Eddie says. "If he so wishes."

Steve smiles like Eddie just promised Lucas a kidney. "Thanks."

Eddie gulps a large mouthful of beer to wet his drying mouth. "Anything for you."

They leave soon after that for food. Gareth especially needs it, starting to become tipsy on his stomach of nothing but beer. Although, outside, it becomes clear he passed 'tipsy' a while back when he climbs onto Jeff's back and yells, "Race!"

Jeff laughs as he hikes Gareth farther up. Robin glances at Steve, then spins away and mounts Marv's back instead.

"I promise I'm lighter than I look," she says.

"You look as light as your namesake," Marv says; she gently smacks his shoulder.

"Don't flatter me; I'm immune."

Gareth, holding Jeff’s hoodie like it's a horse's reins, points to the 7-Eleven sign glowing faintly in the distance. "Onward!"

Marv whinnies realistically enough for Robin to guffaw, and then they're off, their shoes clomping against the pavement and they howling with laughter. Still by the bar, Eddie and Steve share a giggle before following suit at a slower pace.

"Ah, youngsters," Eddie says dreamily.

Steve knocks their shoulders together. "You're not that much older."

"Well… Gareth's turning 21 and I'm 25, so a bit?"

"I'm also the oldest in my friend group." Steve shrugs. "It happens."

Gravel crunch beneath their soles. The air is cool and the sky is yellow with light pollution. Indianapolis is alive and full of noise, but their bubble has space for only them to walk side by side, close enough to touch but not doing so. They have an approximate ten-minute walk until they reach the convenience store. Unless the others return to them, that's ten minutes alone.

Eddie must use them wisely.

"So… how long have you been a paramedic?"

"Oh, um." Steve scratches his neck. "It's been almost four years. I'd actually been certified for less than a year when I got asked to be in that calendar. Not even a year in and I'm supposed to represent paramedics as a whole." He chuckles, mumbling, "That was fun."

"Did you make anything from it?"

"No. Every cent went to charity. Can't remember the name of it, but they provide vaccines to children in developing countries. Measles, polio, hepatitis, tetanus. That sort of stuff."

"Is this your childhood dream then?"

"Nah. I didn't want to be anything when I was a kid. When teachers asked what we wanted to be when we grew up I just said I wanted to be like my dad. He's the CEO of a huge electronics company. Mom is a socialite and philanthropist. They wanted me to inherit the company, but I…" Steve pulls a sigh from deep in his chest, throwing his head back to watch the starless sky. "I was a meathead jock. More interested in being keg king than keeping up my grades. Only reason I graduated on time was Nancy – we used to date. She's a study-beast. Makes great flashcards. Anyway, there's no way I'd ever get into a university good enough for my parents. I wasn't interested in the business degree dad wanted for me; I didn't even bother applying for college. It felt like a waste of time."

Eddie whistles, drawn out and low. "Bet they were thrilled when they found out."

Steve laughs humorlessly. "Yeah. Dad forced me to work this shitty retail job because of it." He halts, drawing himself up and pulling his mouth down. Giving Eddie the most disdainful look he's received, he says in a voice too pompous to be his own, "'If you don't follow the path to the top I laid out for you you'll end up here, at the bottom'." He rolls his eyes, himself again. "That's what he was saying. It backfired on him, because that's where I met Robin. Spent six months on that job, being a fucking aimless disappointment, and then…"

"Then?" Eddie asks, and now it's him desperately grasping at the thread. He needs to know. Anything Steve is willing to give, Eddie will accept.

Steve chews the inside of his cheek. Head hanging, hair falling into his face and glasses sliding down his nose, he resembles a model from an art student's angst-ridden project. Or maybe a movie star in an independent art house film. He just looks like art, okay? Beautiful and out of reach, which only makes you want to touch him more.

"It's kinda private," he says. "For Robin, I mean. The point is it opened my eyes to emergency services. I knew that was something I'd like to do. With some encouragement from her… I did it." He smiles at Eddie like they're sharing secrets. "Turns out studying is more fun when you're interested in the curriculum. My parents disowned me, but it's worth it. I'm as far away from being him as I can come."

He slows his steps then, face sobering before he barks a shocked laugh. The apples of his cheeks are pink.

"Fuck, that just flew out! I'm not usually like this; it's Robin who can't put a cork in it." He laughs again, softer, and levels Eddie with a gaze that borders on adoring. "You're easy to talk to."

Eddie nods. His lungs are burning, he must gasp for breath before speaking. "It's a finely honed skill…"

He swallows, licking his lips. Anything Steve is willing to give, he wants to give back. To take and give. To know and to be known.

He chokes out, "I almost turned into my dad."

"Yeah?" Steve says casually, unaware of the knife Eddie just plunged into his own chest and cut himself open with. "What's he?"

"Prison."

"What?"

Eddie nods breezily. He puts his trembling hands into his jacket pockets. "Petty stuff, but it stacks up. He taught me a few things, though, so if you ever need to hotwire your car or pick a lock… I'm your guy!"

He pulls out his hands to point at himself with both thumbs before shoving them back in. His voice is shriller, and his body's getting the jitters. Can't be still, can't shut up, and now Steve is eyeing him with… sadness? Not disgust, at least, or mistrust.

"But you're a mechanic now, right?" Steve says.

"Yeah. Learned it from my uncle – he took me in after the ol' sperm donor got caught. Greatest man I know, my uncle. I was a crap student," Eddie says, because why not. What's this after divulging about his dad? Nothing! Might as well disclose his aptitude for crime and philistinism. "Completely aimless. Still am. Redid senior year twice."

"Shit."

Grimacing with empathy, Steve sidles up until their elbows brush. A smidgen of tension leaves Eddie as he leans into Steve's warmth.

"Uh-huh. My peers started looking at colleges and all I thought was 'death before higher education!' So, I used my savings to move to Indy and got a job at a garage. It's not what I strictly want, but it pays the bills. Keeps me housed."

"What do you want?" Steve asks, like he wants to know and not just to be polite.

Eddie balloons his cheeks and puffs out the air. "I don't know. I'm passionate about music, but mostly as a hobby. Doing it professionally seems like it sucks. It's all I got, though. That and D&D."

"That's okay." Steve throws an arm around Eddie, and then they're flush. Ribs to ribs. Not an inch separating them. Close enough for Steve's skin to vibrate with Eddie's heartbeat. "You have time to figure it out. And being a mechanic in the meantime is great."

"It-It's not as meaningful as saving lives…" Eddie says, shaking his hair forth so it curtains his face.

Steve hooks the curls around his finger and tucks them back behind Eddie's ear. Holy shit. If Eddie hadn't been clinging to Steve, his jelly-legs would've collapsed and made him eat asphalt.

Steve's gorgeous grin still sends him stumbling a step.

"Sure it is. I bet you've saved someone." Steve leans in, breath ghosting across Eddie's cheekbone as he murmurs, "You'd save me. I know how to change tires and check the oil, but if it's something else? I'm screwed."

Eddie turns his head; their noses nearly bump. Steve's gaze flicks from his eyes to his mouth, indecisive. It chooses his mouth when he pokes his tongue out and drags it over his lips.

"Don't worry, big boy," he says, voice gravelly from use and their proximity. "If you're ever in trouble, just come to me and I'll take care of your engine."

Steve's breath hitches; he flinches back. For a moment Eddie's sure he went too far. But then Steve giggles like a schoolgirl. He ducks his head, face flaming red.

"Cool," he says weakly. "If you ever… heh, I was going to say 'if you ever need the kiss of life, come to me', but… don't." He's leveled himself with Eddie again and is looking at him sternly, though the effect is somewhat ruined by the humor glittering behind his glasses. "Don't ever get fatally injured. Okay?"

Eddie runs a hand down Steve's back, feels him shiver, and looks at him from beneath his lashes. "I make no promises."

A minute later they're caught up with their friends, who are very kind not to comment on how they're plastered to each other.

They buy their food – subs, nachos, chips, cookies, and juice, Steve paying for Robin's after she begs – and wander back to the parking lot by the bar. As a group, so no more clingy cuddling. Just as well, because Eddie's hot enough to erupt if touched again.

Steve didn't get the memo, though, because when they're saying goodnight and about to climb into their respective cars, he pulls Eddie into a hug. A real hug. Two-armed, chest-to-chest, sniffing-the-other-person's-hair kind of hug.

"S'been fun tonight," he says, squeezing Eddie tightly. "This is gonna sound sappy, but I'm glad we ran into each other again."

Ran into each other again.

Ran into each other.

It's a barrel of ice water over Eddie's head. His whole body constricts, shoulders hiking to his ears, jaw clenching. Because they've never actually done that, have they? They ran into each other once, but never again. Every single one of their meetings since has been orchestrated. Made to happen to satisfy Eddie’s obsessive crush. And Steve has no idea.

He doesn't know Eddie is a capital-letters-only FREAK. He doesn't know Eddie gets his rocks off to charity calendars. Fuck, he doesn't know about the calendar.

He has to know. If there's anything Eddie has learned from his millions of failed relationships, it's that there are things you have to know, and this is one of them. Because what'll happen if Steve finds out years from now from someone who isn't Eddie? A shit show, that's what!

Eddie wants for it to be a 'years from now'. He wants to feel Steve's hugs and see his eyes behind thin wire glasses. He wants to smell Steve's shampoo and hear his voice go soft as it says the names of the people he loves.

He wants to take and to give. To know and be known.

Steve has to know.

But how will Eddie tell him?

------------------------------

Part 6

Steve's glasses are a result of @pemsha's lovely fanart. If you haven't seen it yet you can do so here.

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lenore1232, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll, @theysherobinbuckley, @freddykicksasses, @winterbuckwild, @sideblogofthcentury, @subparbrainfunction

[artiststarme]

Where's The "Talk"?

Based on a prompt from @samcoxramblings. I hope this meets your expectations! Please leave your thoughts in the comments and if you have any more angsty prompts, send them my way!

~*~*~*~

After coming out to the Party, Eddie and Steve were on their toes for days just waiting for someone to give them the ‘Talk’. They were amped up, prepared to receive loads of various threats ranging in creativity and snipe. But the days came and went and no one mentioned anything. Anytime Eddie would mention expecting a shovel talk to protect their babysitter, the kids awkwardly looked between one another before changing the subject. When Steve mentioned to Robin and Nancy that no one had warned him against hurting Eddie yet, they just rolled their eyes and ignored him. Neither man knew what the Party was waiting for. 

After a week, Eddie loses his patience and asks the kids at their Hellfire session. “Okay guys, what gives? Where are the outlandish threats of violence, the creative insults about my character, the whole shabang? I’ve been on the edge of my seat for fucking days.”

“Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?” Dustin asked him, sounding puzzled. 

Eddie snorted a sound of frustration. “The shovel talk! Steve and I told you that we were dating a week ago and no one has said anything! Is this a gay thing? Are you too scared of being homophobic to say anything? I can take it!”

The kids looked uncomfortable but Mike spoke. “Look man, we just don’t want to waste our time. You and Steve aren’t going to last. I mean, look how different you guys are! You’re awesome, you DM for Hellfire, and you’re in a band. What does Steve do? He works at Family Video all day and sure, he looks kinda good without a shirt on, but he has nothing else going for him!”

Lucas and Dustin looked at him in confusion before Dustin cleared his throat. “Eddie, we know you’re not going to hurt each other. You’re both our big brothers and you’re not actually dating. Steve likes girls! I’m sure he’s just looking for a way to let you down easy. I’m sorry, man.”

Meanwhile, Eddie looked at them indifferently. He couldn’t believe that these little assholes would say that to him and at a DnD session no less! He whipped his head to look at the original Hellfire members only to find Gareth, Jeff, and Grant looking shellshocked. 

“Do you boys feel the same way?” He asked them, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

Jeff shook his head slightly, “no way, man. We just don’t know Steve well enough to give him a talk. You know we’ve always supported you, if you want us to threaten him a little, we can.”

“Yeah, we’ll threaten the socks off of him!” Grant nodded. Gareth though just continued glaring at the kids.

Eddie nodded, it seemed there was a division of true friends and posers around the table. If his little sheep didn’t want to believe he and Steve would last, he’d show them. He and Steve were for life. Eddie was like a parasite, a viral STD if you will. Once you got him, you were stuck with him forever.

“Well, thank you for sharing your opinion. Does anyone else feel that way?” He asked them. Did the rest of the Party share the same views? He desperately needed to know. 

Lucas nodded slowly, “well, yeah. Hopper says you guys are only seeing each other because you’re trauma-bonded and Robin said that it doesn’t mean anything anyways.”

Eddie chuckled sardonically. Oh so, the entire Party was against them? Fine, he didn’t need to be a part of the group that tore his life apart anyways. 

“Alright, Hellfire’s disbanded. Get your stuff and get out. Corroded Coffin, we’ll continue the campaign as a three-piece on Thursday before band practice. I’m going to go see Steve, the guy I’m in a relationship with. You know, the one that ‘doesn’t mean anything’ since we’re ‘too different’ and ‘trauma-bonded’ and ‘waiting to get let down easy’? Go fuck yourself and fuck your precious Party too.” And with that, Eddie stormed out. 

He drove straight to Family Video and was ashamed to find that frustrated tears had started leaking from his eyes. He couldn’t believe this. After all they’d gone through together with the Upside Down and psychic killers and murder accusations, being in a relationship with Steve was the tipping point? Absolutely ridiculous. He darted into the video store and didn’t even slow his stride as he threw his arms around Steve where he was talking to a customer. 

“What the- Eddie? Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked him before turning back to the customer. “I’m sorry, could you talk to Robin over at the counter please? Have a nice day.”

Steve gently herded him into the employee lounge and pressed his teary face into the crook of his neck. “Eds, hey, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry, Stevie. I never should’ve said anything!”

“About what? What’s going on? Weren’t you supposed to be playing DnD today with the kids today?” Steve asked him. He wiped the tears from underneath Eddie’s eyes and rested a hand on the back of his neck for comfort.

“I asked the kids why we hadn’t gotten a shovel talk from anyone yet before we even started. They said that no one in the Party thinks we’re going to last. Hopper thinks we’re trauma-bonded, Mike doesn’t think we’re fucking compatible, Dustin thinks you’re faking it, and Robin thinks we’re not serious. They’re not interested in ‘wasting their time’ giving us a talk.”

Steve blinked in surprise before his face hardened. “We don’t need their acceptance or their approval. We know they’re wrong and that’s what matters. We don’t even need a talk from them. Fuck ‘em! We can give ourselves a shovel talk if our good-for-nothing-friends can’t do it!”

“Steve-” 

“I’m serious, who gives a shit about their opinions? Who are they to judge? Dustin’s dating a girl over the radio that lives in goddamn Utah or some shit. Lucas can’t judge because Max broke up with him again for like the tenth time this month. Mike’s only girlfriend was a girl he found in the woods that didn’t know any better than to date him. Robin’s never even been in a relationship so she can’t judge us for having one. And Hopper is 100% going to be in the doghouse after I tell Joyce about what he said. Fuck what they have to say.”

“But Stevie, how are we going to give one to ourselves? That doesn’t even make sense,” Eddie told him gently.

“Fine, then we’ll give one to each other. Eddie, if you break my heart, I’m going to give Wayne adoption papers and take your last name whether you want me to or not.”

Eddie sputtered, “what the fuck? What kind of talk is that? You’re supposed to threaten me with physical harm, not whatever mindfuckery that was!”

“Don’t belittle my shovel talk! Like you could do any better,” Steve scoffed at him.

“Oh yeah? Steve, if you break my heart then I’m going to break your kneecaps so you can’t leave until I win you back. And if I break your heart, I’m going to finish what the bats started.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie! Are you okay? That’s fucking violent!” Steve yelled.

“That’s the point!” Eddie screamed back.

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is, you’re supposed to threaten to hide the body with a shovel,” Eddie said like it was obvious. 

“Dingus, stop talking to Eddie and get back to work. We have a line,” Robin said exasperatedly, poking her head into the back room. 

“We’re giving each other shovel talks since you losers wouldn’t do it. You know, since this means something. I’ll be out when we’re done with that,” Steve told her bitchily. 

“Fuck off Buckley,” Eddie hissed venomously. Robin looked shocked at his mutiny but backed away regardless. 

Steve stared at the door for a moment but Eddie drew his attention back to himself with a whispered, “if you don’t hurt me, I’ll help you hide a body.”

Steve cackled and murmured back, “you already were accused of murder once, you need to stop being so violent!”

They continue to date until marriage is legalized in the state of Illinois, where they move shortly after they deliver their truly remarkable shovel talks. As payback, they get a marriage certificate at the courthouse and don’t invite anyone from the Party to act as witnesses. Instead, Uncle Wayne, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant surround them and hear the clerk declare them husbands. 

(Hopper and the rest of the Party find out at Christmas that year and everyone loses their shit in synchrony. They all learn a valuable lesson that day that Eddie Munson holds the meanest of grudges.)

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[sp0o0kylights]

“Oh god it’s covered in hearts.” Gareth says, staring horrified at the stage that’s been set up in the cafeteria. Grant and Jeff stand next to him, eyeing the abomination of glitter, paper, and tinsel that’s been shaped into pink and red hearts with a microphone standing proud in the middle.

Several of Hawkin’s jocks are standing to the side, talking amongst themselves, but worse is the crowd of students accumulating in front of the stage.

“You don’t think they’re gonna serenade us for Valentine's Day, do you?” Jeff asks in a similar tone of horror.

Grant makes a disgusted face at the very thought.

“It’s about time they gave me my own mic!” Eddie cackles, slamming his hands down on Gareth and Jeff’s shoulders for leverage, jumping up for a better look (Grant smartly ducked away before his friend can crawl all over him too), “I’ve only been going on about the capitalistic horrors of Valentine's Day since middle school!”

They groan in unison..

Eddie’s got a look on his face that says he’s about to vault up on stage and do this year's rant in style; Gareth will be damned if he lets Eddie get detention on a Hellfire campaign night.

“Eddie, no.” Gareth warns, as his best friend tries to worm his way past them.

“Eddie, yes.” He grins, bolting forward even as multiple hands reach out to yank him back.

“Whatever they’re doing we do not want to get in the middle!” Jeff hisses in his ear as Grant reaches for his middle (already once tricked by grabbing Eddie’s jacket, which he simply shrugged out of). Gareth does his part, holding firmly onto one of Eddie’s hands. Eddie bravely tries to stagger forward, despite the efforts of what looks like some kind of mutant tangle of human limbs.

“Come here microphone, my beloved!” He pants, comically reaching his arms out towards the stage, before Grant promptly stops fooling around and hefts him into the air.

“Nooo--the people need to hear me!” Eddie wails, thrashing.

Gareth rolls his eyes and spots three familiar faces in doing so. Freezes so abruptly that the arm he was holding onto slips out of his grip, allowing Eddie to deploy a tickle attack.

The result is Grant almost throwing him to the floor, with Jeff forced to let go or fall.

Free to cause chaos, Eddie throws his hands in the air, grinning widely.

“Is that…the freshman, up there?” Gareth asks before his best friend can crow victory.

“I’m sure there’s many freshmen up there, buddy.” Grant says with false sincerity as he regains his breath.

“No, not--I mean our freshmen! Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair!” He points, and sure enough, on the side of the crowd opposite the jocks, there stood Hellfire’s youngest with their heads put together.

“Now just what are they up to, I wonder?” Eddie ponders aloud, before shrugging his jacket back in place and strutting forward.

Trading uneasy looks with each other, his friends follow.

xXx

“The auction isn’t kicking off until 6 pm.” Henderson says, as he carefully counts the individual bills in his hand. “We know that besides the basketball team and the cheerleading team, they’ve got like, the Mayor involved, and the fire department, which means--”

“A lot of people are going to be there.” Mike interrupts, arms crossed over his arms. “That’s what it means, Dustin. What’s the point if every girl there is going to be bidding on him?”

“Were you even listening, Mike? I just said there’s a bunch of other people they’re auctioning off!”

Wheeler Jr. pulls a face that nearly makes Eddie laugh (and thus give up the fact he was slowly sneaking up on them) before the kid shoots back, “We have five dollars total Dustin. I don’t think that’s going to be enough.”

“Not to buy a whole person.” Eddie says, voice dropping to imitate the current big bad in their D&D campaign, “But five dollars is a fair price for a body part I’d say…”

He trails off with a cackle as the three freshmen startle away from him like spooked horses. “Now what--or who--are you buying?”

“They’re gonna explain it here in a minute,” Dustin says after he recovers, waving at the girls in front of the stage with a hand. “But there’s some big charity fundraiser happening tonight. Right now they’re voting one guy from the basketball team and one girl from the cheerleading squad to represent the school, but they’re auctioning off a bunch of people.” Dustin explains, holding up his fistful of dollars with a wild grin.

“If you’re the highest bidder, you get to spend the day with the person you bid on.” Lucas adds, because Dustin skipped right over that part. “Since it’s Valentine's Day themed, they’re referring to them as “winning a date”.

Well that explained all the giggling cheerleaders.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “I’d ask if this is Sinclair’s bail money, but as my last two years remind me, it’s only for juniors and seniors. Not--” He playfully slings an arm around Lucas’s shoulders, “--for the darkside’s newest recruits.”

The uncomfortable look Lucas gives him is almost enough to make Eddie feel bad, but it’s not his fault Lucas was tempted by the evils of highschool sportsball. He figures the kid will come to his senses soon enough, and considering how awful the jocks are, it won’t be too long before Sinclair is 100% a Hellfire club member again.

“Which begs the question.” Eddie continues, slinging an arm over Mike’s shoulder as well. “What are you scheming? I’d ask if you’re buying me a date, but,'' He gives an over-dramatic sigh,” alas, no one can survive the charms of Eddie the Banished.”

“Charm is one word for it.” Jeff says, as the rest of Hellfire finally catches up. Gareth and Grant roll their eyes as Mike and Lucas chuckle weakly at Eddie’s exaggerated pout.

He drops his arms from his little lamb’s shoulders, taking a step back and looking around at the growing crowd.

“Hush Jeff. Let’s see if ol’ Eddie can guess who our brethren here have their eyes on. I wonder if…” He trails off, dragging out the last word as he does so before a bright, teasing smile lights up his face. “Aha! I see one Miss Cunningham. Are we bidding on her for Sir Gareth?”

A sputtering noise erupts behind him, as Eddie turns with glee to watch Gareth practically choke on soda he’d just taken a sip of, Grant thumping him on the back.

“Eddie.” Gareth hisses, and somehow it sounds like a warning even if his voice has a slight wheeze to it.

“What?” Eddie says, full of faux innocence. “We all know the lengths you’ve gone to get her attention recently.”

Gareth’s gone bright red, a testament to the fact that he’s been mooning over Chrissy Cunningham since the day she complimented one of his drawings.

His over-the-top moaning of how to woo her away from Jason is a prospect Eddie tolerates only because he himself has gone through great lengths to impress men that will never once look his way, let alone consider him as a romantic option.

(And also because Gareth, as Eddie’s best friend and confidant, was well aware of Eddie’s own crush on one Steve Harrington.

Apparently, Hellfire’s members were just cursed to fall for jocks.)

“They want to bet on Steve.” Mike says with an eye roll, apparently done with this entire charade.

For two seconds Eddie thinks that he’s somehow spoken the part about Steve aloud and that Mike is somehow echoing his deepest, innermost thoughts but is saved from panicking further by Dustin adding;

“We’re gonna make him play a campaign with us.”

The kid’s grin makes his eyes sparkle, which is completely at odds with the way Eddie’s stomach plummets.

“He played D&D with my sister, Eddie.” Lucas says, feigning a hurt look. “My kid sister, but not me?”

“Harrington played D&D?” Gareth’s voice implies he doesn’t believe it, and honestly? Had it not been for the freshmen, he wouldn’t have believed anything that was said about Harrington. He was on the verge of tears with laughter when they told him that the almighty King Steve was their chauffeur. They had to be lying about how often they hung out with Steve to begin with, right? Because there was just no way.

Except they weren’t. They really, really, weren’t.

It only took a handful of times of watching Steve pick them up from Hellfire, and then seeing the entire extended group (including Sinclair’s on-again-off-again girlfriend and Robin Buckley of all people) bouncing around Harrington like over excited puppies all over town.

The arcade. Downtown Hawkins. The local milkshake diner and the stupid movie theater.

Literally.

Everywhere.

“You guys are going to bid on Steve Harrington and make him play D&D.” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie doesn’t blame him for doing that either.

It’s the stupidest thing he’s heard all day, and he spent the last hour and a half listening to Mr. Rulf yawn on about parallelograms.

“Yeah! You guys wanna pitch in and help?”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie sneers. He can’t help himself--this is against everything he’s ever stood for.

Stupid thoughts of stupid Steve going on a stupid date with him, aside.

“Yeah guys, I think we’re gonna eat outside today. If you wanna listen to…whatever,” Jeff casts his eyes towards the cheerleader that’s bounding up the steps of the stage, ponytail bouncing, “ then go right ahead.”

“Oh we don’t need to listen to this.” Dustin dismisses the entire thing with a wave of his hand, making Mike roll his eyes again.

Somewhere in his campaign notes there’s a joke written about Wheeler Jr’s eyes getting stuck like that. Eddie hadn’t planned on bringing it out tonight, but a part of him really wants to.

Maybe if he can talk the freshman out of their idiotic idea, he’ll reward himself and do it tonight anyways.

….Or he could still steal that microphone.

xXx Steve xXx

Steve has no idea how he got talked into this.

Actually, that’s a lie, he knows how it started: a phone call, his mother, and a sudden way for her to be in the spotlight for her yearly fifteen minutes of Hawkins fame. He just can’t recall why he agreed to it.

“It's an opportunity, Steven." She says, heels clicking against the department store tile.

An embarrassment is what it was, but Steve knew better than to tell his mother that.

"You should be honored that Wendy--that’s the head chair of the charity board, you remember her don't you? She used to attend your piano recitals--she asked for you personally." His mother expertly plucked a shirt from the rack, holding it up to the light.

"Those were your parties mom, not my piano recitals." Steve reminds her as she holds the shirt out to him. He took it, adding it to the stack he had in his hands.

The parties were the exact same kind of shit this as this “Valentine's Day Fundraiser” a way for rich people to celebrate themselves by making others uncomfortable.

Only instead of being forced to play piano so his mothers friends could wine and dine with the famous Harrington's, he was being hauled up in front of the entire town (or whoever was attending this stupid event) and auctioned off as a “date” to the highest bidder.

(“It’s for one day, Steven, don’t be so dramatic. Why is your generation entirely incapable of taking a joke and having fun?” His mother had said, when he tried to tell her he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

Of course there was no answer that would please her; soon enough, Steve found himself dragged about town as his mother played dress up.)

"You'll be standing alongside the Mayor, the fire department, even that idiot, Mary Marie--"

She stops for a moment, eyeing a jacket with a critical eye.

Just as quickly she dismisses it with a hum, prowling on to the next section.

"--the point is that there will be plenty of candidates for the children to pick from, but you’ll be the only hero up there."

That same critical eye turns on him, appraising him like he was no more than a horse in her stable, adding up imperfections and dividing amongst his best qualities.

(Despite a lifetime of training, it still takes everything in him not to squirm.)

"Not to mention a Harrington.” She purrs, taking a step closer to run a manicured hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing away a stray crease. “Women will be throwing money to win a day with you."

Steve has to fight not to outright shudder.

"Which means you have to look your best. Now stop whining, we’re almost done.”

Steve doubts that, but it doesn’t matter; he never had a choice to begin with.

xXx

Four hours, one shower, and several rounds of his mother’s nagging and meticulous styling, ,Steve finds himself back in Hawkin’s High, staring at the gym.

His mother had long swept past him, having spotted some high school friends and gone over to lord her lifestyle and general wealth over them.

For a fundraiser, the charity board in charge had spared no expense in dressing the gym up. Red, pink and white balloons decorated the doorways and a large stage hauled to one end.

Tables with thick, white table cloth are artfully arranged about the floor, caterers swiftly moving between them.

This is probably the fanciest this gym has ever looked, and Steve wants to be anywhere but inside it.

“Oh--Steve.” A gentle voice says next to him, and Steve turns his head in surprise to see Chrissy Cunningham look nervously up at him. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Me neither honestly.” He tells her, watching the way that makes the younger woman smile. “But I’ve been volun-told to be auctioned off. What about yourself?”

Chrissy runs her hands down her dress, a modest if not beautiful blue halter dress , wincing as she snags a nail on it. “The school held a vote at lunch about who would represent the school tonight. All of the varsity cheerleaders and basketball players were involved.”

“I see.” Steve says, keeping his voice gentle and playful. There had always been a part of Chrissy that had reminded him of El. Someone who needed kind words in their life. “You got voted as tonight’s sacrifice, huh?”

Chrissy laughs at that, hand flying to cover her mouth. “I guess you could say that.” She says, and seems surprised at herself for it.

“Did Jason get picked too?” Steve asks. It would make sense if he was, the guy was the basketball Captain after all.

Chrissy nods, then chews on her lip. “Yes but--he’s not happy about it,”

Steve snorts and tries to cover it with a cough. “None of us are.”

“It’s more that I’m being auctioned off.”

Chrissy must catch the look on his face because she rushes to add; “You know, like any boyfriend would be! I know it’s just supposed to be a fun silly thing and they’re not really dates but…” She trails off, voice growing quieter at the end. “He worries.”

The word “worry” sounds like it means something else entirely.

Steve feels for her.

“Hey, if Jason’s an ass about it, let me know.” Steve says after a moment of shared silence. “You don’t deserve to deal with him being a kid about this shit.”

Chrissy blinks up at him at that, hand almost to her mouth as though she’d subconsciously raised them up to chew on her nails. “Thanks Steve. That’s nice of you.” She whispers it, and Steve nods and smiles at her.

“There you two are!” A woman says, rushing over with a clipboard. “Steve Harrington and Chrissy Cunningham, right? We’re gathering all the dates behind those doors.” She turns and points to the opposite end of the gym. “If you both would follow me please?”

Steve motions for Chrissy to go first, and moves to follow her when a flash of curls crushed down by a blur of white, blue and electric yellow catches his eye.

He turns automatically, seeking it out and sure enough, ducking down the hall is Henderson, Sinclair hot on his heels.

A familiar mixture of emotions lights up Steve’s spine, and he knows immediately he won’t be able to rest until he figures out what the gremlins are up to--because their Hellfire Club was supposedly canceled today on grounds that Munson had stolen a microphone, or some other crap.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll join you in a second!” Steve calls, before darting down the hall, after them.

[fandomonetwo]

i beggest thou pardon — eddie munson

▸summary: you have an issue. eddie has a talent at acting. you have to get rid of a really sketchy guy. he has to get people to stop making up rumours about him and chrissy. a perfect problem. 

▸characters: eddie munson, fem!reader, chrissy cunningham, male!oc

▸tw: creep guy, borderline sa, an adult word or two

▸a/n: this came to me in a dream. it was a great dream. i was sad it was over

MANY OF THE students at Hawkins would say that Percy Thorn was a pretty good choice of boyfriend. He was a very tall, slightly lanky yet strong art student with a charming personality, a dazzling smile, and a 1984 Harley Davidson FXRT. Yes, he was quite a choice.

He was also an incredible egomaniac.

For the past week and a half, Percy Thorn had not once left you alone if he could help it. Lunch times, he was there. Art class, he was there. Maths and English, he was there. He was like carbon dioxide: always there, yet never wanted. 

Well, this past couple of days, he’d gone above and beyond in trying his best to ‘get you’. He’d tried the flirting, leaning against inanimate objects (and animate objects, such as poor Joseph with the glasses), pick up lines, asking his friends to ask you out for him. Nothing seemed to work. So, he tried the next option.

Touching.

First, it was an arm around your shoulders. Then pats on the head. Then a hand grab. But today, he’d been rather bold, going as far as to place a hand on your thigh. When he did that, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Oh, boy. You had just told Percy Thorn that you had a boyfriend. That did not exist. That was nowhere to be found. That currently had his residential address set in Narnia. You had to find a boyfriend, stat.

When lunch rolled around, you burst into the cafeteria wide-eyed, panicked, and panting. Your eyes then landed on one set person that could quite possibly guarantee your safety from Mr.-let-me-lick-my-lips-and-hope-I-look-sexy.

You beelined for the table he was currently sitting at, taking the empty seat next to him, smoothing out your skirt. 

“I’m really sorry, but I need a boyfriend.”

The man blinked once, twice, gaping like a fish. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before blurting, “I beggest thou pardon?”

It was probably the stupidest thing Eddie Munson could have said. But he was discussing Hellfire, and he was speaking in old English, and then he remembered he had a Shakespeare assignment due tomorrow, and the dominoes just kept falling. 

Eddie had never thought that someone such as yourself, a rather ethereal being that was currently spending her angelic time at a school such as this, could ever taint her reputation by breathing the same air as him, never mind sitting next to him. He was a little taken aback, evidently. 

Gareth, who was sitting opposite him, merely dropped his head rather heavily on the table, banging it a couple of times before sighing. Jeff merely pat him a few times on the back, muttering “I know, dude, I know” to the poor boy. You and Eddie both watched this with rather similar facial expressions, allowing Eddie time to process what you’d just said.

“I’m so sorry,” he backtracked. “I meant to say... what?”

“Percy Thorn won’t leave me alone, and I told him I had a boyfriend, and he didn’t believe, me, and he won’t believe me until I show him, and I know that you’re a kind of freak, no offence, but if you pretended to date me, he’d probably get the message and leave me alone because he would never try to mess with you, what with you being the devil’s spawn or something, I don’t know, but I suppose the basic gist of this is, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend so he can stop touching me?”

How you managed to say that in one breath was rather impressive, Eddie had to admit. He also had to admit that he was, in fact, not listening until you mentioned touching. His eyes narrowed when he heard that and he pursed his lips. 

See, he had his own little problem. Someone had seen Chrissy and him talking at one point in time, and now they had spread the rumour that the two were know a thing, meaning that Chrissy’s anxiety had skyrocketed when people whispered, and Eddie was getting into a lot more fights than he was before the rumours began. He’d only just had a black eye fade, and already had a threat for another one. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to go blind.

“Pissing off Percy Thorn, huh?” he murmured thoughtfully. “Hmmmm...”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, dude, take the deal,” Gareth hissed, not lifting his head from the table. 

“Sure, why not?” the metalhead smirked, and you nearly fell backwards from relief. 

“Okay,” you breathed, ready to cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart, relax.” He raised a hand to your waist, halting and asking permission with his eyes. At your soft smile and small nod, he wrapped an arm around your lower back, peeking two fingers underneath your ABBA themed baby tee. You shivered at the cool temperature of his silver rings, and were quite flustered at the heat of his skin. It was a rather beautiful contrast. 

You were a rather physically affectionate person, and were rarely uncomfortable with touch unless someone else was. But this was an Eddie-initiated thing, so you leaned into his side, placing your head just below his collarbone. His hair smelt nice, and it was gorgeously soft. He had great curls. 

“Wow, your hair is like, ridiculously nice,” you muttered. He chuckled. 

“Thanks, doll. It’s my three-in-one shampoo,” he joked. You cracked a small smile at that, it dropping as soon as you heard footsteps and turned to see the douchebag himself strutting over. 

“Well, well, well.” Percy Thorn also had a very silky voice. He could’ve been a voice actor. “We find ourselves in a predicament at the moment.” 

Gareth lifted his head from the table, his eyes slits as he glared through his own brunette curls at the leather-clad artist. “And what would that be, o mighty one?”

Percy turned up his lips, looking Gareth up and down, turning back to Eddie. “The devil’s spawn has his hands on my girl.”

Eddie raised his lips in a sarcastic grin, cocking his head. “Last I checked, she was my girl.” Eddie tightened his arm to sell the point, and you raised your hand to his, lacing your fingers. You really wanted to vomit when Percy said ‘his girl’.

Percy scoffed. “Oh, please. No one would be caught dead sharing your seat on the bus, let alone allowing themselves to be called your girl.”

“Yeah, well, the reason she is my girl is because we shared a seat on the bus, so I guess luck was on my side.”

Damn, Eddie was good at lying. You smirked a little at the little made up story. You nuzzled into his neck a little, grabbing his attention. 

“I have to go. Mrs. Craig won’t handle tardiness from anyone, not for the sake of algebra.” You swung your legs over the seat, hand still interlaced. He did the same, only with one leg. He pressed his lips to your knuckles, delighting in Percy’s absolute look of fury.

“I shall see you soon, my heavenly rose,” he bade farewell, sounding like one of the characters from the play he was meant to be analysing, Twelfth Night. You giggled a little. Even though you were only pretending, Eddie was rather funny. 

“I await the chance, fair knight,” you returned, curtseying rather clumsily. He smiled back at you. You were quite pretty when you smiled. 

You began to walk away, avoiding Percy’s look of rage when you passed. You couldn’t walk very far however, when you gasped, stopping in your tracks. Tears appeared in your eyes. 

Percy smirked, the spot where he’d slapped your butt still tingling. You’d never wear this skirt in public again. Your hand flew to the spot, trying to stop something, anything, everything from happening all at once. You spun around, hunched over a little as you kept your legs together, as though you were a cowering puppy. 

Eddie’s smile faded, replaced with a rather scathing look. The look of fear, no, distress that was on your face had him reeling. He grabbed the nearest thing, which was his lunch tray, shot up, flung his arms back, and brought the tray right on Percy’s ear. 

The art student crumbled like a sack of potatoes, yelling as he clutched his ear. Eddie stood in front of you protectively, lunch tray still clutched rather tightly in his hand. 

“You bastard.”

“Mr. Munson!” The whole cafeteria swung from looking at Eddie to looking at the teacher that had just shouted. “Principal’s office! Now!”

The brunette sighed, dropping the tray. Gareth sputtered.

“Wha- but Percy literally just assaulted her!”

“You too!” She didn’t even know his last name. 

“That’s not fair.” You were trying to help, but it was hard when you were trying not to burst into tears. 

“You know what? Life’s not fair. All three of you, go!” She pointed in the direction of the principal’s office Percy’s friends rushed to help their fallen mate.

Eddie stuck close to you the whole walk to the principal’s office. “Welp, that was an eventful relationship.” He tried joking, but it didn’t crack a smile this time.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I got you both in trouble.”

“Nah,” Gareth waved his hand, dismissing you. “It was worth it. Seeing Thorn fold like that was funny. Plus,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “Eddie’s got a girlfriend.”

“Pretend girlfriend.” Eddie cleared his throat turning a little red. Gareth shrugged and walked a bit in front of them. The metalhead turned to you, sheepishly running his hand on the back of his neck. “Sorry about him, and that whole tray smack thing.”

“It’s okay, for both things.” You said quietly. “But, uh, you wouldn’t mind being my pretend boyfriend for a little longer, would you? I’m a little paranoid now.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Eddie grinned like the cheshire cat. “How about I drop you home to solidify the story?”

You smiled at that. “I’d really love that.”

Besides, he could use your help on that assignment.

[devouringyourson]

i not that person that expects their partners to like the same things as them and try not to judge people by their tastes in music esp on dating apps but it's actually so depressing how many queer women i have to swipe on in london cos they make their entire personality being a gaylor or swiftie like i genuinely don't mind if a friend likes her or whatever but if a woman is like making that a key part of her dating profile i gotta be honest with myself and im always going to be looking down on her a bit so im sorry but swipe?? am i terrible person possibly but like can queer women pls get better taste ill accept literally anything else to stan im honestly not that picky just not... that

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

So, Eddie and Steve are dating, so obviously their friend groups meet. The spicy six meet Corroded Coffin and the Hellfire Club. Let's just say, Gareth and Steve hit it off- they hit it off very well. They talked about hair and music, Gareth being a former ABBA fan and everything. And it's all going well, and Eddie's just glad everyone's getting along.

Gareth also gets a long with Will once he joins Hellfire. The older boy is only one year above him, so he easily makes conversations with Will. And they too talk about music. They both love Queen and Motley Crue. And they also both have an appreciation for art. Will likes making art and Gareth likes observing it. They work well together, they make each other happy

[strat0sfear]

Arcane Odyssey AI: The somniumn files Au screenshot redraws because. i am insane (Image with blood (minor), Minor spoilers for Mizuki (Due to its out of context nature) and Major AITSF spoilers under the cut (Annihilation, Resolution routes))

[princessstevemunson]

In the summer of 1986, Steve finally agrees to play DnD. It’s only for a one-shot. Eddie is trying out Will as a DM, and it’s only Eddie, Steve, Dustin and Gareth, for some reason, playing.

Eddie made Steve a character: he’s a high elf paladin, whatever that means. At one point, Steve’s character and Eddie’s character (a tiefling bard, Steve remembers) get stuck in a closet together. Gareth is giggling, Will has a little smirk, and Eddie is blushing while muttering something about payback for Will the Wise and Gareth the Great the next session—which makes Gareth stop laughing and go red. Steve winks at Will and reminds himself to thank Will properly later. Dustin is completely oblivious the entire time.

[kiwimetry]

I do love that in Rhíminee Alec was introduced around as Alec í Gareth, but in Aurënen he's always introducec as Alec í Amasa. And also doesn't make a secret, as far as I can tell, of the fact that his mom was the one who was Hâzadriëlfaie. All of which is to say, do you think the Urgazhi ever gossiped about what his parenting situation was?

[anneangel]

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Corroded Coffin: Choose Your Own Adventure

Day #26 - Tour Date | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie (If You Choose Certain Routes) | Tags: Choose Your Own Adventure, Interactive Fiction, Help Eddie Make Decisions on How to End His Night After a Gig

A choose your own adventure story featuring Eddie Munson and Corroded Coffin. After a gig, a bunch of little decisions will change the course of how the night ends for Eddie Munson. Go left? Go right? It's up to you to decide for him.

There are many different routes you can take, but no matter which one you choose, the story will be exactly 1000 words.

But - you'll have to click over to AO3 for this one. I don't think Tumblr would lend itself for setting up this kind of story, lol.

[fairy-princette]

I truly love the whole 'Steve and Eddie are dating but no-one told Eddie trope' but every time I read it I feel so bad for the random queer guy that Eddie's agreed to go out with

Like just imagine, you're having a great day - you asked out this hot metalhead guy, and not only did he not beat you up, he's actually agreed to date you - and then literally an hour later he calls you to cancel because he 'hadn't realised he already had a boyfriend'?? like how do you move on from that? that would haunt you, for the next 5 years every time he asked someone out he'd be like 'and are you absolutely sure you're not already accidentally dating someone?'