#HOW IS THIS KING STEVE

[tenacious-minds]

I really need more Steve has powers fic like Steve Harringtons Guide To Planning a Party (without blowing up) and Do You Mind (will you mind?) In which Steve is an Empath/has telepathy and uses it in really sweet ways and kind of charms Eddie with it by accident.

[sp0o0kylights]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

I love the intersection of Narrator and character. Character who is the narrator or a narrator who is also a character but not the main character. Guy in the corner who announces what will happen and also gets boo'd or high five by the main characters. Exists in the 4th wall but sees through it. Or perhaps exists outside the 4th wall but peaks in and says hi. The characters say hi back. Sometimes the Narrator is all knowing. Sometimes they only know a little, perhaps the script or what has previously happened. Sometimes the Narrator character is kind and helps the other characters along. Sometimes they laugh in the other characters faces. There is a chart here that I haven't conceptualized yet.

Some examples:

The narrator in Into The Woods

Alan-A-Dale/ the Rooster in Robin Hood

Hoid/ Wit in the Cosmere

Steve/ The Jester from Galavant

Also the Head Monk from Galavant

the Narrator from Winnie the Pooh

The Narrator from Word Girl

If you can think of other examples, please add!

[harringroveera]

Oh so that’s why he’s King Steve!

[rigginsstreet]

billy becoming one of those naked models that rich people hire for dinner parties to eat food off of (its a thing google it) and steve being a dinner party attendee absolutely not prepared for the fact hes gotta grab his hor dourves off some sexy guys nipple

[maskednerd]

[ickypuppi3]

once again thinking about billy growing up with his mom, the two of them running from neil and jumping from place to place to avoid him catching up with them and eventually settling somewhere for a bit and making it to 1983 but then the doorbell goes one day and it’s neil, so. they have to run again and end up in hawkins for some reason and bam! king steve meets mamas boy billy. flowery shirts, swim team ‘n all ..

[fuctacles]

Edzio Gąska

For @steddiemicrofic "fool" | M | 454 | no cw | medieval AU, hoh Steve, mute Eddie, fade to black, established relationship

Dingdingdingdingding.

The constant jingle was surprisingly easy to get used to. In a way it became a part of him, alerting others of his presence, warning them, "shut your yaps! The Royal Fool is listening."

Not many cared about the warning, though. In their eyes, a jester without a tongue was as good as dead. He heard them whispering that the king should get someone actually entertaining more than once. None of them complained when he flipped out his lute, though. 

When his king sat alone on his throne, disinterested and weary, he'd lean down and shake the hat in his face. 

Dingdingdingdingding.

King Harrington would look up with a smile, without a hitch. Sometimes it was an amused smile, sometimes tired, and sometimes, it was dark. His fool liked all of them equally, but the dark smile was the most special.

When the guests leave and the servants gather to clean up, his real job starts. No one bats an eye as he follows the king to his chambers, he has a room adjecent to them anyway. He's a busy guy, playing the role of a personal servant on top of being the court's entertainer. He helps his king dress up in the morning and get ready for bed at night. He helps him plan and rule.

Behind closed doors, Eddie has his king's full attention.

His hands were flying, mouth forming words he couldn't voice, passing information he'd gathered around the party. 

"Slow down, damn it," the king told him from the bed. "Got somewhere to be?"

Eddie glared at him. He looked down pointedly at the king's lap then back up. The king laughed. 

"What did he say? Go on," he signed the words as he spoke. It always made Eddie more compliant, knowing he and his king had their own language, known only to them. He signed back all he had gathered from the courtier's gossip that day. 

Good job, fool, he signed, when Eddie's arms dropped at his sides.

Dingdingdingdingding.

The hat jingled when the man shook his head. 

"No?" The king raised his eyebrow.

Not fool, Eddie explains.

"Ah," the king nods in understanding and corrects himself. Sorry, love.

He barely has the time to reach out, when he gets a lap full of colorful fabric, bells, and long limbs. His jester settles against him with a content sigh and starts grinding almost immediately, the horny little creature. Without further prompting, he flips back and rolls them on the expensive sheets, his jester's hair losing the hat and splaying against the pillows.

"A kiss and I'll ride you?" he offers.

Eddie rolls his eyes but reaches up, tangles his fingers in the man's hair, and pulls him down.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

A repost of something that I wrote, and put on my second account before here :)

Eddie was crouched on the curb of the building when one of the back doors to the mall suddenly flung open. He was behind the mall near the dumpsters, so it wasn’t uncommon for people to slam the door with their legs while their hands were full of garbage bags. What was not normal, however, were the tiny shorts on this guy's ass.

There were no shorts that needed to be that short. Though it was the eighties, crop tops, and short shorts on men were a trend. That didn’t mean Eddie had to enjoy it. If anything, he enjoyed it so much that it did a full one-eighty into a bad case of loathing.

But this sailor, in his short blue shorts, maybe one in a million because Eddie's enjoyment was doing a full three-sixty on repeat. He’s pretty sure his eyes were doing that silly animated thing too, where they continuously popped in and out of his skull.

As he kept watching this fine-looking sailor, he noticed the other man struggling to carry three garbage bags in his two hands. His arms were visibly straining from the weight. The man was also purposely stumbling to the dumpster to avoid one of the leaking bags, leaving a trail of melted ice cream behind him. He was a walking disaster just waiting to happen and Eddie found himself slightly more into that than he had previously thought.

What can Eddie say? He has a thing for dumb men and nice asses. And this gorgeous, gorgeous fool in front of him was the epitome of dumbassery.

Eddie was so distracted by this man that his cigarette burned to the nub, and he wasn’t paying attention to the heat slowly beginning to reach his fingers. Not until it was too late did he notice the tiny lit flame against his skin. Some of the ash landed on his pants, hands, and even his favorite ‘Ride the Lightning’ tee.

“Fuck,” he yelps as he hops up and purposely drops the nub under his show to put it out. His right hand, which got burnt, was doing a dramatic jazz hand skit, while his left made a feeble attempt to brush off the ash. He then looks back up to see the sailor, who had been two-thirds of the way to the dumpster before Eddie did his small fire dance, was now looking at him.

From where he stood, Eddie could hear the other chuckling at him. Embarrassment washed over him before it slowly turned to anger when he finally comprehended who he was looking at.

Standing almost ten feet away from him was Steve Harrington, the same Harrington who was a complete douchebag in high school. Now, said douchebag was holding back soft laughter. The asshole even opened his mouth, probably to give Eddie shit, when the bag that had been leaking the entire way to the dumpster finally broke.

Ice cream and trash go everywhere, most landing on Steve's shoes and hairy legs.

Eddie doesn’t hold back the laughter that catches him by surprise, his anger leaving him before he can say anything too stupid. However, he quickly stops when the other boy's gaze falls back on him.

He’s afraid he’ll have to run away from a trash-covered king, but that fear quickly dissolves when he hears Steve's laughter slowly join his.

“I suppose that's what I get for being an asshole.” Steve comments, scrunching his nose in disgust as he steps out of the puddle of sour milk at his feet.

He looks back up, about to say something to Eddie, but the door he exited less than five minutes ago flings open. This time, a disgruntled girl with a slight bob and matching sailor suit emerges.

“Hey, asshole-” She stops mid-sentence, her expression morphing into disgust as she processes the mess surrounding Steve.

Eddie glances back at Steve who is now frantically moving much faster than before. He throws the garbage over the dumpster and quickly begins to pick up what he can, which isn’t much before he runs back to the girl at the door.

“Sorry, I didn’t see the bag was ripped until I was like five feet away from the exit, and I was hoping to get it all mopped up before you noticed, but the bag broke and–” Steve’s words were flying a mile per minute, each hitting his coworker in the face all at once.

Once again, Eddie is surprised by the boy's behavior and so is Robin, whose name tag he had managed to catch when she takes a step back from Steve. Who now reeked of garbage and seemed oblivious to this fact along with what personal space was.

“Ok, ok, I get it, dingus.” Robins's hand moves up in a stop motion. Both she and Eddie watch as Steve’s anxiety train slows down to a halt before it goes too far off the rails.

“We can get a janitor to clean it up or something, but I need you to get back in there before I piss myself. I’m having one of your kids watch the booth while we are away and I don’t think we have enough time to piss and get you cleaned up before they start robbing us clean.” Robin rambles out.

Eddie can’t help but think that the two were perfect for each other because they sure did ramble a lot.

Eddie’s existence is again ignored as the two sailors head back in. Before Steve is completely gone though, he sends a small finger wave Eddie's way.

And at that moment, Eddie decided he was going to loathe that boy's ass forever.

[tartarusknight]

The King of the Freaks | Pt 5

Ao3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Steve is trying not to panic. Honestly, what was he thinking! He was desperate, and they could all tell. He slammed his locker open and rubbed his face. "Steve?" Jonathan's voice was soft, and Steve jumped. "Is everything alright?" He questioned, and when Steve looked over, he noticed Nancy. She was over by her own locker, looking over at them. She most likely was the one who told Jonathan to come over and talk to him. It's not like Jonathan had any reason to talk to him. They weren't friends.

Steve nodded and cleared his throat, "Yeah. It's nothing important," he promised. And it wasn't even a lie. Jonathan nodded slowly, and Steve wanted out of this conversation. Sure, Jonathan was a good guy. But Steve still hurt from how everything unfolded. He didn't blame Nancy for moving on, and honestly, Jonathan and her should've been together for months, but... it still hurt.

"You know, it's okay to be jumpy after everything." Jonathan said softly, and Steve's smile was strained as the conversation kept going. "You know you can always talk to us." And it hurt a little, hearing that. Because once upon a time, it was the other way around. It was Steve reaching out with apologies at the ready. (Trust him. He knew he overstepped and was an asshole. He also knew if he didn't overstep, then Jonathan wouldn't have fought him, and that's what Steve wanted at the time. To mask the pain swirling in his chest with actual pain.)

But it wasn't him and Nancy, looking out for Jonathan anymore. It was Nancy and Jonathan... and Steve- well, it wasn't the same. Steve wasn't close to Jonathan, and Nancy made it clear how she felt. The invite was done out of pity and fucked up trauma Steve's never going to deal with.

Nancy didn't love him, and she sure as hell didn't care about him if she was able to break his heart so quickly and refuse to apologize for throwing it in his face like a grenade. So, he squared his shoulders. "It's not about that. I was an idiot again, you know, nothing new." He gave him a sharp grin and shut his locker.

Except then, Nancy's there, siding up next to Jonathan. "Come on, Steve, can't we still be friends?" And the words die in Steve's throat. He thought he did enough for her. He let her go without making her feel guilty. He never told her how much she hurt him.

But he also never thanked her for pushing him to realize what a piece of shit he was. Because Nancy was always right, Steve had to be bullshit. Everything he worked towards the last year was bullshit. And if that's all bullshit than the only thing he's good at is throwing himself in front of danger. He could be Billy's target, so he doesn't bother anyone else. He could take all the shit the kids throw at him. But he didn't think he could take Nancy yelling at him again. Her words sharpened over time.

He took a deep breath, but before he could force himself to say anything, someone bumped into him. It's just like a small nudge to get his attention. It's a kinder version of a slap on the back from a teammate. "Hey Steve," Grant smiled.

Something eased in him at Grant's presence. "Hey," he smiled and tried not to note the look of annoyance on Nancy's face.

"So, we were wondering what days you're busy," he asked, and Steve glanced at the couple one last time before letting Grant pull him away.

"See you guys, around." He waved and headed down the hallway with Gtant. "You don't have to make your schedule around me."

Grant laughed and bumped him again, "we want you there. I think Gareth and Eddie are betting which one of them can get you to make a character first."

Steve's brain halted and paused. He was so focused on Grant that he didn't notice Billy until someone slammed into his shoulder hard enough to send him to the ground. "Watch your step, princess." Billy grins at him and Steve huffs.

Tommy kicks his bag away from him before he can stand, and he sneers. "Really making friends with the freaks? You're so desperate," he mocks and slams Grant backward into the lockers. It makes Steve see red, and he quickly moves.

He stands up easily and doesn't reach for his bag. He just pushes Tommy back from Grant and stares down at him. Tommy's back hits the lockers, and Steve grins down at him, watching Tommy's face go red. "Anyone's better than you," he winks, and just like always, Tommy's tongue was tied. Steve knew things about Tommy, things that he never shared, things Steve kept to himself. And he wouldn't tell anyone, but he'd use it to his advantage to protect the others.

Billy shoved him off of Tommy, and Steve held up his hands in a surrender gesture. Billy looked him up and down before looking at Grant. "Protecting freaks now?"

Steve smirked, "Your sister's a freak?"

"Steve," Grant cut in, and Billy scoffed.

"Shut it, fatty!" He growled, and Steve punched him before he even meant to. A crowd was starting to form as Steve straightened up. Billy laughed and dread coursed through Steve. "You really want to try this again?" Billy spat and Steve swallowed. His face was still sore from the last time.

"Don't be a dick," he nodded at Grant and Billy raised an eyebrow.

He leaned closer, and Steve fought against the urge to flinch. "You really did fall from the top."

Steve put all his king Steve swagger in his body. "I'm not going to fight for a make-believe crown." He glanced back at Grant and hoped his eyes were convincing enough to get him to walk away. "Not when you get off on it." And Steve's slammed back onto the ground.

"Billy!" A teacher snapped, and everything stopped. Grant moved to help Steve up, but Steve wasn't in the mood. He pushed himself up and dusted himself off. He moved and grabbed his bag from the floor. Billy was glaring, but he walked off with Tommy and a few others.

He felt exhausted, and his head was starting to swim. "Uh, just come over whenever. Honestly, it's not a big deal, I'll warn you guys on days when I'm not free... Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have swimming until 6." He offered and rubbed a hand down his face. His face hurt from the pressure, but he used it to ground himself.

The bell rang, and he looked over at Grant. He smiled and tried not to look like the mess he was. "I'm gonna go," he pointed behind him as they parted ways. He waited until Grant was out of view before ducking out of the school. He headed to his car and quickly got in. He leaned his head against the wheel before he let out a big shuddering breath before pulling himself back together and backing out of the parking lot. He could deal with his failing grades tomorrow.

@zerokrox-bloglog @cyranyxx @adaed5 @the-redthreadd @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaringceyoustopcaring @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshitorthisshit @failedstarsandgoldencloudsds @bisexualdisastersworldd @deadlydodoss @anythingyouwanttobee @nburkhardtt @bestwifehaverr @thehumblefigtreee @megzdoodlee @swimmingbirdrunningrockk @mightbeasleepp @bxlthazarar @autumnal-dawnn @chillichatss @nonbinary-eddie-munsonon @the-daydreamer-in-the-cornerner @eddie-munson-is-my-wifewife @a-little-unsteddiedie @sharingisntkaren @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @0o-queendean-o0 @beckkthewreck @vi-an-te @vampireinthesun @newtstabber @dinosareawesome2137  @spicemallow @hellomynameismoo  @luthienstormblessed @briceslayed @angeldreamsoffanfic @dbquills @prideandsensibility @iwouldsail @ponfarrtimeatthevulcannightclub @spectrum-spectre @the-chilly-kat @yearningagain @loopsmd @starlight-archer @sleepy-time @goodolefashionedloverboi  @crazyshipper67  @sherrylyn628  @bidisastersworld  @v3lnys  @n0connections  cherixxx69  theotalksalot  tailsfromthecrypt  ledleaf  grimmfitzz 

(I’m so sorry that’s all the tags I could do!!! If you didn’t make it I’m sorry!!!!)

[ghostlynimbus]

Probably going to change my mind about these again in the future

But as of rn a few shifts I have decided so far for my shifter au:

Steve Harrington - Anatolian Shepherd

I debated a few options for Steve (lion, deer, etc) and definitely went back and forth more than a few times on this decision. But I think this feels right for the story I want to tell.

Anatolian Shepherds are livestock guardian dogs, they may not be as individually formidable as some large wild predators, but they protect their flock and they are far from weak.

Billy Hargrove - Jaguar

Max Mayfield - Bobcat

I'm definitely not sure about this. I also like the idea of a fox for her.

Eddie Munson - Manned Wolf

Did you know Manned Wolf pee smells like weed? Zoos have been raided by police bc of this.

Chrissy Cunningham - Deer

Dustin - African Painted Dog

Jim Hopper - Grizzly Bear

Benny Hammond - Bison

Bob Newby - Pig

Tommy Hagan - Timber Wolf

[delta-piscium]

Eddie does become quite famous for his music and that means he sometimes has to go to these mind numbing events where people will sneer at him until they recognize who he is, then they’ll suddenly pretend they’re old friends, they’ll ask for concert tickets and backstage passes

he mostly hates them but whenever Steve is able to come he’s so god damn excited. Steve’s parents used to drag him along to their business events and even though it’s different industries it’s all the same. Steve knows these crowds, he grew up with them and they bring out the bitchiest upper middle class version of him, a Steve who has passive aggression and faux politeness down to an art

Eddie will watch on in delighted awe as his husband, all while smiling mildly and sipping wine, destroys people. just cuts into them and also making everything sound nice, innocuous. Most of them don’t even realize it’s happening they just suddenly find themselves gaping, searching for words, as they’re backed into a corner

and Steve will look at them, tilt his head and wait them out, but before they get the chance to backtrack he’ll hum, shrug and walk away, Eddie on his heel asking if he wants to get out of there, like right now? or maybe find a bathroom?

[autisticrosewilson]

Please Lord take all my back pain and my iron deficiency and give it to Tom King he deserves it and it would be so funny

[withacapitalp]

Dear You, Pt 1

For the miraculous amazing wonderful @artbean LEX I am SO happy I got to be your Valentine this year I am so excited for you to get to enjoy every bit of this story, and I can't wait to scream about it with you now that I FINALLY can. Also a very huge thank you to @hbyrde36 for being the worlds BEST beta and encouraging me every single day on this. I can't wait to watch this one grow

Link to AO3

----- It all started with a dimebag. 

Well, actually, it started long before that, not that Eddie had any clue back then. 

For him though, it started with a dimebag. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie said, huffing out an incredulous laugh as he stared down Steve Harrington, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Despite what his new sheep seemed to think about the former King of Hawkins High, Eddie knew guys like Harrington. They didn’t change, or somehow suddenly evolve into not shitty humans. They were high school has-beens, losers, dicks who never had to grow up because daddy would always be there to protect them. 

Steve coming to see him alone after Hellfire? The only way that was going to end was with a plastic baggie and cash exchanging hands, or some kind of fucked up prank that he would laugh about with his other jock douchebags for all of a week. 

But King Steve hadn’t done either of those things. In an increasingly confusing turn of events, Harrington had apparently come to him to ask Eddie to sell weed to Jonathan Byers. 

Jonathan Byers… the guy who stole his girlfriend right out from under him. 

“Look man, he’s too nervous to come to you directly, and I wouldn’t give a fuck about buying for him, but I know you still charge me the asshole tax-” Steve said, running his fingers through his oh-so-perfect hair and sighing as he turned back to Eddie with an even more determined look in his eye. 

“You earned the asshole tax, Harrington,” Eddie cut in, a bit harsher than he meant to. Steve almost flinched back and Eddie bit his tongue before he could start ranting. He didn’t really care about Steve’s feelings, but he wasn’t looking to become one of the bullies that he constantly railed against. 

Besides, he wanted answers, and he wouldn’t get those from antagonizing Steve past the point of conversation. 

“Regardless,” Steve continued on, “I told him that I can’t keep floating the extra cash and he has to start buying from you directly.” 

Steve had repeated that same point about five times in this conversation, but Eddie still didn’t get it. No matter how he tried to rearrange it, he just couldn’t make it make sense. 

“So you, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, have been buying weed for Jonathan Byers, and you’re just paying the extra money that I charge you for your high school jock tendencies out of the goodness of your ever-so-loving heart?” Eddie asked rhetorically, raising a brow. 

Steve nodded anyway and Eddie crossed his arms, his brow furrowing at the completely innocent expression on Steve’s face. 

“Why?”

That was the question wasn’t it? What did Steve get out of all of this? Having something to hold over Jonathan couldn’t be worth that much, the asshole tax was a pretty big hike after all. Besides, Will was one of the kids he drove around town all the time. 

Were they…friends? Was that even possible? 

“Will you do it?” Steve asked, bluntly avoiding the question with a look that told Eddie he wasn’t getting any answers. 

“He knows where the picnic table is and what my hours are,” Eddie answered, starting to get bored of the cryptic conversation, “You didn’t have to come here for all this.” 

“Look, Jonathan’s been through a lot-”

“You’re telling me that?” Eddie said, a sharp laugh exploding from his chest at the hypocrisy of that statement. Unless he was forgetting, it was Harrington that had beat Jonathan’s face in two years ago, not him. 

This time Steve actually did flinch back, his entire body on guard and defensive, coiled like a snake and ready to strike. Eddie was ready for a blow, a punch to the gut or a new black eye to sport for the next few weeks. 

But it never came. 

Harrington just…stood there, walls high as can be, obviously uneasy but unwilling to leave until he got what he had come here for. The vicious little joy he had gotten at finally landing a hit on the impervious King Steve was quickly waning the longer they just stood there, looking at each other, regret pressing down on the deep buried wounds Eddie hid in his chest. 

He knew better than most how much it hurt to constantly have your own failures thrown back in your face.

“Are you done being a douchebag?” Steve asked quietly when the silence had gotten appropriately uncomfortable. Eddie jerked his head upwards in a nod and Steve sighed again, looking away and letting his eyes wander around the drama room rather than look at Eddie. 

“All I’m askin’ is that you don’t overcharge him, and don’t do your whole scary demon leader thing. ‘Kay?” 

“And I should listen to you, why?” Eddie asked, leaning back and sliding up to sit on the table, faux nonchalance dripping from every pore. He wasn’t looking to be too mean, not anymore, but it was still fun to watch Harrington squirm a little bit. 

“Because if you don’t I’ll sic our mutual children on you, and, trust me, you don’t want to be on Will Byers’s shit list.” Steve said with a wry little grin, obviously thinking about all the ways the kids would make Eddie’s life hell if he said no. “By the way, they don’t know Jon smokes, so don’t tell them.” 

“All sales are sacrosanct, as you know,” Eddie immediately responded, his personal code jumping out. 

Eddie was a lot of things, but he was no snitch. Munsons never turned, never gave up anything that they had been given to hide, not even on the threat of death. His father was shitty for many, many, reasons, but Al had taught him at least one good thing. 

“Why does Byers need so much weed anyway?” Eddie asked, trying to turn the conversation casual again, “I thought you were smoking like every night for those migraines the brats are always going on about.”

It was a completely normal thing to say, nothing sharp or biting in the slightest, but the second the words were out of his mouth, all of the blood drained from Steve’s face, and his hand immediately shot up to rub at the side of his neck. He even took a step back, needing extra space between them for some damn reason. 

“Nah, I don’t um-” Steve took a deep shaking breath, looking like he had seen a monster. “Drugs aren’t really my thing anymore.” 

Drugs weren’t his thing? 

Even before the concussions, Harrington was one of Eddie’s top customers. And after getting his head bashed in, Steve was at the picnic table making weekly transactions, always for the same exact amount of product. They almost had it down to a science- 40 bucks, two baggies, have a nice day.

But something about the way Steve was holding himself- the hunched up shoulders and the way his eyes looked about a thousand miles away- it just felt bad. 

There was pain there, deep, unnerving pain, and it made Eddie believe every word he was saying. 

“After-” Steve cut himself off again, forcing another deep breath in, this one more steady. Eddie could almost physically see Steve put himself back together, the mask of aloof uncaring King Steve coming over his face in a way that was comforting in its familiarity, but disturbing in its motion. 

“Drugs aren’t my thing anymore,”  Steve repeated, voice sturdy and walls ten miles high. 

“Okay, no worries,” Eddie said, unable to keep all of the gentleness out of his voice. He didn’t exactly want to treat Harrington like one of his lost sheep, but he couldn’t help the urge to protect that came over him any time he saw someone in need. “Uh- tell Byers to meet me on Tuesdays. I’ll- um- charge him the friends and family discount.”

Eddie never had a problem overcharging rich jerks from Loch Nora, but he could swing a bit of an income dip for another kid with one parent and way too many bills on the table. 

“Tuesday and Friday,” Steve countered, like they were in a fricken tennis match. 

“Tuesday and Friday it is,” Eddie agreed easily, hopping down from his spot and walking towards the door patting Steve twice on the shoulder as he passed him, enjoying the way it made the other boy jump. 

Some things would just never change, and freaking out a jock was still one of life’s beautiful little pleasures. 

The two of them walked out of the school in an amicable silence. They weren’t friends, Eddie could never imagine thinking of Steve like that, but they weren’t exactly enemies. Steve was no longer who he had been, if the kids were to be believed, but that didn’t matter much to Eddie. He had still been that person, and that was enough reason to dislike him. 

Was there a word for that? A word for a person whom you no longer hated, but still didn’t really care to know? There had to be people in the world who had dealt with this particular issue. 

Eddie was so deep in his thoughts that he barely noticed walking out the door and down the steps. He only realized they were at their destination when Steve broke away, turning and going in the opposite direction. 

“Thanks,” Harrington called out with a toss of his hand over his shoulder, walking towards his lonely Beemer in the other corner of the parking lot. 

“Oh yeah, sure,” Eddie muttered, still distracted by the question. 

Eddie cared about the brats, he knew that. He was handing down the legacy of Hellfire to those hellions, and he knew they would do well. And the kids cared about Steve, for some inexplicable reason. Henderson was desperate to make them best friends for god's sake. 

Well, best friends they would never be, but maybe an olive branch would push them towards something better. If Harrington was going to be in his life more, Eddie at least wanted it to be bearable. 

“Hey Steve?” Eddie shouted from across the parking lot, catching Steve’s attention and making him turn around. 

“If you- um- ever decide drugs are ‘your thing’ again, I’ll cut your asshole tax in half,” Eddie offered, feeling inexplicably embarrassed and trying to hide his blush behind his hair, “For Henderson, you know?” 

“Just be nice to Jonathan, that’s all I’m askin’ for!” Steve shouted back. 

Jonathan.

Eddie shook his head, jogging over to his van and fumbling for the keys, nearly dropping them as he went to unlock the door. 

“Jonathan fucking Byers what are you bringing into my life?” Eddie mumbled to himself, already sure that this was going to lead to absolutely nothing good. 

[carcarrot]

interesting variety of t shirts here with the people waiting for the concert