#Steve is going to do two things

[morganbritton132]

Dustin posts a Tiktok of the party as they wait for everybody to show up for a Hellfire campaign but focuses in on a conversation happening in the kitchen. You can hear Steve say, “-believe it because Erica said it. She’s never wrong.”

Robin, picking the m&ms out of trail mix: I don’t know, she did want to drink that green sludge that dissolved concrete

Steve: That was before we knew it could do that and later that same day she called Murray a bald bastard. He was bald and he was a bastard. It cancels itself out.

Eddie: The first time I met her, she called me a long haired freak.

Steve: That’s the description I’d give the police if you ever went missing

Lucas: She calls me the family disappointment

Steve:

Steve, with that smile where he’s going to say something mean and is sorry about it: There’s only two of you, Lucas.

[unfinishedslurs]

eddie's flat ass (steddie)

Dustin whips around as soon as they’re alone. “Steve!”

“I’m Eddie.”

“No, I mean you and Steve. You like him.”

“Of course I like him, Henderson,” Eddie says flatly, pressing a little harder on the gas in hopes of getting to Dustin’s house before he admits something he regrets. “We’re friends. Best buds. A couple of dudes being bros.”

“You’re full of shit,” Dustin says. “I’m not stupid. I saw that. I wish I hadn’t, but I saw it. You’re, like, stupidly into him. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. His street can’t come soon enough. 

Dustin pushes through. “When are you gonna ask him out?”

“Uh, never?”

“What?!”

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Nothings going to happen, Henderson. Yeah, I’ve got a stupid fucking crush on your babysitter, it doesn’t mean that Steve’s interested in me. He likes girls, Dustin, did you miss that part in the dossier? He thinks we’re a couple of straight guys horsing around, if he found out I was flirting with him I could be thrown into Hunt the Freak 2: the thrilling sequel.”

Dustin’s mouth snaps shut, and he laughs nervously. “Right,” he agrees. “He likes girls. But, uh, hypothetically, if he was into guys…”

They roll to a stop sign, and Eddie turns away from the road to tell the little shit off. But Dustin’s fidgeting, staring steadfast at the road and refusing to meet his eye. 

“You know something,” he realizes. 

“Uh…”

Eddie’s about to shake it out of him. “You’re hiding something, you little shit. What is it? Tell me.”

“I’m not,” he squeaks. 

“Bull-shit you aren’t. What is it? Is it about Steve?” Eddie pales. “Shit, does he know about me?”

“Well…”

“What the hell?!”

“I didn’t tell him!” Dustin yelps. “If you didn’t want him to know, maybe you shouldn’t have been so obvious!”

“Check your tone,” he snaps, hand shaking as he pulls on his hair. “Shit, shit, shit, okay, it’s fine, I just need to flee the country—“

“Why?”

Eddie is this close to throttling the kid. “What do you mean why?”

“Why is this such a big deal?”

“It could get me killed!” He shouts, banging a hand against the steering wheel. “He could—he could fucking tell somebody, and—“

“He wouldn’t do that!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know that? You think someone’s a good guy until you’re interested in them, and then it’s all ‘You’re fucking disgusting,’ or ‘Freak,’ or ‘Don’t touch me, you fa—‘“

“Stop!” Dustin shouts, white knuckling the armrest. “Eddie, stop. He’s not going to tell anyone. It’s gonna be okay. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s fine,” Dustin stresses. “Steve doesn’t care if you’re gay. He definitely doesn’t mind you flirting with him.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah I do.”

“How?”

There’s that deer in headlights look again. Then Dustin takes a deep breath, and his expression turns guilty. 

“I know you’re not supposed to tell people this,” he says, “but you’re freaking out really bad and I’m, like, 99% sure Steve thinks you already know.”

“Steve thinks I know what?”

Dustin tells him. 

Two hours later, he’s still laying on the floor in the trailer, looking up at the ceiling. 

Bisexual. Steve Harrington, the man Eddie’s always hailed as the patron saint of heterosexuality, likes men. 

Might like Eddie. 

“Are you flirting with me?” Eddie blurts out, and immediately tries to bolt. 

He runs face first into a wall and ends up on the ground, wishing the demobats had just killed him. 

Steve appears in his line of vision, standing over his sprawled body. Eddie is treated to a wonderful view, eyes moving from his long, athletic legs to his crotch to his chest and broad shoulders, and finally reaches his face. His very amused face. 

Eddie’s entire body lights on fire. 

“What the hell was that?” Steve asks, laughing. 

“Uh…”

“Wile E Coyote over here. Seriously, man, that was some Loony Toons shit. I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” he groans. “Just let me die.”

“No way in hell. Sorry, Munson, I put too much work into saving your flat ass to throw it away like that.” Steve grins, holding a hand out for Eddie to take. He ignores it, rolling over so Steve can’t see how red his face is. 

“My ass isn’t flat,” he mumbles into the carpet. 

“Oh, it is,” Steve says cheerfully, nudging said ass with his foot, because he’s a bastard. Eddie doesn’t know why he likes him so much. Everything he does is catastrophically bad for his continued survival. “It’s cute though. I like it.”

“Henderson said, uh, that you were…umm…maybeflirtingwithme?” Eddie finishes in a rush. 

“What?”

Steve’s face is open, automatically tilting his right ear towards Eddie. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s aware that’s something he does. Robin says it’s because of all the concussions, his left ear just isn’t what it used to be. 

Eddie sags, unable to lie to his wide-eyed confusion. “Dustin said you're flirting with me.”

Steve stares at him. 

Eddie fidgets under his incredulous gaze, growing more anxious by the minute. Oh God, Dustin was wrong. Dustin was wrong about everything. Steve probably doesn’t even actually like boys, Jesus. The whole thing is obviously a bust. Eddie needs to cut and run, maybe make some bullshit excuse about his uncle needing him home even though Steve knows Wayne’s working right now—

“You needed Henderson to tell you that?”

[vanweezer]

from february 💘

[spookythesillyfella]

hey guys . heres my fair share of doodles from the magma i drew on with my big bro @chamom1le-t3a

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 87

Part 1 Part 86

Mom’s hovering in front of the door, a knife in her hand, trying to get the rest of them to get away from the window. It’s not working. If anything, Max’s nose only presses more firmly to the glass with every request she makes.

Will’s hovering just behind her, desperate to keep Steve and Eddie in his line of sight. He can just barely see the wisp of a curl through the side window of the van, bouncing as Eddie moves around inside.

He squints, trying to keep the hair in sight as the movement becomes more erratic.

Will hears glass breaking just as he loses sight of Eddie entirely, wisps and all.

He rushes past his Mom, using the weight of his body to open the door, even as she stands in the way. It’s almost involuntary, a compulsion to follow the thread that Eddie’d pulled him by.

“Will, don’t!” she cries, but it’s too late. He’s out, and through.

Mike calls after him, too, and there’s the sound of tennis shoes stampeding out of the house behind him. Will only hopes he’s not leading them all to their impending doom.

Bodies slump into the driveway, none of them human. They’re like if the Demogorgon had followed a different evolutionary chain. Dustin would find it fascinating. Will just wants Eddie and Steve back.

Wayne’s still standing sentry, looking out across the street, waiting for more monsters to creep in from the darkness, Barbara by his side.

Shielding the entrance to the van, is El.

“El!” It’s Mike, because it always is. He sounds so genuinely elated that something curdles and dies in his throat. He swallows it down, hopes it decomposes in his stomach, so he never has to look directly at it. “You came!”

El smiles, happily at Mike, then around to all of them. “Of course.” She looks over at Max, and she’s frowning now, that way she does when she doesn’t understand something. It used to happen all the time. Now, it’s rare.

Will doesn’t care, can’t when Eddie’s too quiet in the van somewhere Will can’t see. He pushes past her, too.

There’s a misshapen, monstrous foot sticking out of the broken window. He stares at it for a second before swinging the door open. It wrenches the foot strangely, makes it crack and tear with the resistance of the door before it breaks free, black blood flowing like the thing’s still alive. 

It stays still. 

Will looks past it, and finds Eddie’s pale face.  

There’s glass in his hair, and his palms are bleeding where they’re held in front of him, but he’s breathing. Alive. And he’s looking up at El like she’s answered all his prayers. Will and Eddie have been sharing the same prayers from the same broken pews for so long that for a second, Will thinks Steve is back. 

He scrambles over the dead thing blocking his entrance. It’s cold against his palms, flesh barely giving as he crawls hand over feet atop it. But, Steve’s still just sitting there, blinking, Carol huddled into his side like he can protect her, even like this.

“Steve needs your help,” Eddie says, plaintive. Begging with both voice and unblinking eyes, gaze locked on El’s own until she breaks it to look at where Steve still sits, unbothered.

Her brow furrows, eyes squinting like she’s peeling off layers of skin and meat to get to whatever’s underneath. “He’s lost?” she asks.

Carol is squinting at El like the words aren’t clicking for her. She looks back to Steve, then back to El, brow furrowing with anger.

Eddie nods. Will clears his throat. “Not like last time,” he clarifies. “He’s here, but his mind isn’t.”

El nods, decisive. “I will help.”

“What the hell are you all talking about!” Carol demands, even as people scatter around her, setting up for El’s latest rescue mission. “He’s right there!”

She’s not looking at Will, though. She’s looking at Eddie like it’s all his fault. Still, when Steve doesn’t say anything, her lip wobbles as she turns and asks, “right Steve?”

He doesn’t answer, even as she calls again. Will looks away when she bites her lips, eyes wide.

It’s easier this time. They don’t have to break into the school, don’t have to find a pool. El just sits cross-legged in front of Steve on the carpet, careful to stay away from the broken glass and the dead thing. Mike covers her eyes with Wayne’s flannel while the man himself switches the radio dial until he finds one with enough white noise to satisfy.

He can’t quite tune out the murmured conversation between Eddie and Carol, though, no matter how hard he tries. Eddie explains, in clipped, emotionless words, that something, one of the monsters from the other place she’d just gotten a taste of, has taken over Steve. 

“But we’re getting him back?” she asks, voice shrill and breaking, contrasting with Eddie’s own even tone. A veteran to the newbie in the warzone. 

Will, suddenly, feels terribly old. 

“Quiet now,” El demands. 

Eddie looks away from Carol without answering. There is no answer to that question when they’re all subsisting off hope, and not much else.

“Tell him we’re coming, okay?” Eddie asks. He’s looking down at his own bloody palms now, like he can’t bear to look at their last bastion of hope and wait for it to flame and go out. 

“Ask ‘im how to stop the thing taking ‘im over,” Wayne interjects. 

Eddie’s lip wobbles. Will knows how he feels. He doesn’t want Steve to know, if he’s in there at all, that they don’t know what to do. Neither does Will. He wants to save Steve. He always wants to save Steve.

But, Eddie finally looks up, meeting Will’s eyes before nodding. The movement knocks a tear free, but his voice sounds clear when he says, “Ask him how we kill the fucker.”

El nods, shoulders settling as she reaches out to take Steve’s hand. The white noise blankets them all. Will settles down to wait. 

That’s what they always do, when Steve is dying: they wait. This time is no different. 

Part 88

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb

[thepunkmuppet]

i’m sorry ik male-female friendships are important and I do love them platonic but honestly these two are somehow more homoerotic than half the gay ships. and bffr you only think they’re boring because they’re straight, it’s SUCH a good ship and i’ll stand by that forever 🙏

[emily-mooon]

Nancy Wheeler the shoujo manga protagonist you are what with your love triangle and everything about you my pookie <3

[becca-alexa]

because who can when eddie's involved

this big boy loves to help you i can't even with this-

this man reads signals like a colorblind dog at a traffic light

and a BONUS STEVE

because you're eddie's princess but you're steve's baby

HUGE MASSIVE THANK YOU TO @munsonmecrazy FOR SUGGESTING THESE i just couldn't resist they were so good i just picked my favorites 💗 I HOPE YOU LIKE THESE 💗💗💗💗

[ghosttotheparty]

The dialogue writing prompt thing. Number eight with Steddie. I think Eddie saying it to Steve. Idk. It'd be cute:]

youre so right cw: weed use

8. “I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.” dialogue prompts!!

Eddie is very tired.

It's been a long... few days. (Feels like years.) And he wants to go to bed, and listen to the wind, and maybe get a little high, but as he thinks about it all he remembers where he is.

In the lobby of Hawkins Memorial Hospital, with stitches in his skin and an ice pack on his head. Next to Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley, with Steve Harrington by his side. Steve's knee won't stop bouncing up and down. Eddie can hear the rubber sole of his shoe squeaking on the tile, and after he suffers through it for another minute, he reaches out and sets his hand on him. Steve's knee freezes as soon as Eddie's hand is on it, but Eddie can feel his tenseness radiating through his jeans, can feel how anxious he is, and he wordlessly flips his hand over, holding it out.

He doesn't know what he expects, but after a moment Steve slides his hand into Eddie's, pressing their palms together and lacing their fingers. Eddie keeps staring at the floor. There's a spot of dirt on the white tile that looks how he feels. Steve's fingers tighten after a moment, and Eddie squeezes back.

They're there for a long while. Waiting. Robin falls asleep with her head on Nancy's shoulder, and Nancy rests her head on Robin’s, sighing deeply. Eddie wishes Steve would fall asleep. He seems like he could use it.

He doesn't know how long it is until a door opens and the others appear around the corner into the waiting room. Eddie and Steve pull their hands away silently, tightening as they watch everyone trickle into the room. Max, Lucas, Erica, and Dustin, followed by Max's mom, Lucas and Erica's parents, Dustin's mom, Dr Owens, and Chief Powell. Steve exhales next to Eddie. It takes a long while for them to sort everything out. The parents all look... Eddie doesn't think tired is the right word for it.

They all look scared. Even as they look at their children.

Eddie wishes he was high.

The kids don't want to go home alone, even with their respective parents, so a sleepover is organized at the Sinclairs'. Max will borrow some of Erica's pyjamas that are too big for her, and Dustin will borrow Lucas's. (Though Eddie suspects they'll all be asleep as soon as they enter the house. Especially Max, who looks like she's about to keel over any second. Lucas seems to notice it too, and keeps an arm around her the whole time.)

Goodbyes are said in the parking lot, in the brightness from the hospital that's spilling out into the night. Mr Sinclair shakes Steve and Eddie's hands and Ms Henderson hugs them both as gently as she can. Eddie feels like he's spinning, blindly hugging the kids, murmuring soft I love yous and pressing kisses to the tops of their heads, until he's standing by Steve and watching the cars peel out of the parking lot.

Nancy sighs heavily again.

"You're with me?" Steve asks Eddie softly. Eddie looks at him. His eyes reflect the hospital lights in a way that looks holy.

"Yeah," he says.

He sits shotgun while Steve drives to drop the girls off at Nancy's, getting out to hug them and accept the kisses they press to his cheeks, and then he watches Steve walk them up to the front door, hugging them both tenderly before he whispers something to Robin that makes her smack the back of his head. Steve is snickering when he comes back to the car, and it makes Eddie smile.

"Ready?" Steve asks, like they're going on an adventure instead of going home.

Home.

"Do you think... we can stop by my place first?" Eddie asks weakly. "I wanna get... some stuff."

"Yeah," Steve says, pulling out of the Wheelers' driveway. "What do you wanna get?"

"Uh." Eddie sighs. "Some clothes. Keepsakes. Cash. Wayne doesn't know where I hide it, I bet he didn't get it when they made him leave. And, uh..."

"And?"

"Okay, you can't judge me," Eddie says, opening his mouth to speak and make excuses for himself, but Steve interrupts with a quiet, "Never."

Eddie smiles at him for a moment.

"I kinda really wanna get high," he says. "I'm just... I'm so fucking tired, man, and my stitches hurt like a bitch, and I'm..." He trails off, unsure of what to say. He doesn't have that many reasons. He feels like he should have more, like he needs excuse after excuse to get high, but Steve just nods.

"I feel you," he says. "I have some weed at home, but it's not a lot."

"Steve Harrington," Eddie says, relaxing into his seat with relief. "Where've you been my whole life?"

Steve laughs quietly.

"Right here, man."

The trailer is taped off when they get to it, but they don't let it stop them. (It's not like Eddie's never broken in anywhere. Plus, he isn't even actually stealing tonight. It's all his.) If they get arrested, Powell is in on everything now. It'll be fine.

Eddie finds some bags and Steve helps him stuff them full of sweaters and jeans and shirts and handfuls of socks and underwear. Eddie finds his lunchbox in the living room, untouched and unbothered, and he supposes it makes sense that the military government men don't actually care that much about drugs in the grand scheme of things. He fills the lunchbox with the cash from the false bottom of his sock drawer. Steve watches, an almost curious expression on his face. Eddie does one last sweep of the room as Steves takes the bags out to his car. He presses a kiss to his guitar, silently promising he'll be back for her, He finds a bong under his bed and carries it out of the house with him, holding it up as Steve starts the car. Steve grins at him. (He's got an amazing smile. It lights up his whole face like a lamp.)

Steve’s house is eerily quiet when they get there. Silence isn’t all that weird in and of itself, Eddie thinks, but the house is so… big. Like there should be twenty people living here, and not just Steve by himself. Even at the trailer, there's always some kind of noise, the tap dripping, the radiator clicking, the wind making the windows rattle. But the Harrington house is so silent Eddie can hear his own heart beating.

Steve pauses in the doorway, taking a breath that almost echoes in the emptiness, and Eddie’s heart suddenly aches as he thinks about Steve coming home all alone, day after day, night after night. Sitting in the empty loneliness.

“Steve,” Eddie says softly as he follows Steve inside, watching as Steve turns to face him, holding one of Eddie’s bags.

“Yeah?”

Eddie hesitastes for just a moment before he steps forward, shutting the door behind himself, and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck in a tight hug. Steve hugs him back just as desperately, and it’s a little awkward because they’re both carrying Eddie’s bags, and Eddie can’t get as close as he wants to. Which is probably a good thing.

With the door shut, there’s no light in the house at all. It’s pitch dark, but Eddie doesn’t really care. Steve asks if everything is okay, his voice soft and breathy right by Eddie’s ear, and Eddie almost cries. His eyes burn, and he nods for a moment as he swallows, desperate for his voice not to break.

“Yeah.”

They separate after a few moments, slowly, like they don’t really want to let go.

Steve leads Eddie up to the guest room. Shows him how to turn on the shower, adjust the temperature.

When he leaves to take a shower in his own room, Eddie’s body aches. Like Steve’s absence makes him hurt. That’s probably not healthy, he thinks to himself. But when has Eddie ever had healthy habits? And in the grand scheme of things, Eddie doesn’t think a little codependency is the end of the world.

The shower is nice. The water is nice and hot, the water pressure even and hard enough on his back that he relaxes. He watches dry blood and dirt and Upside Down grime wash across the white tile floor and down the drain.

He gets cold when he gets out of the shower and quickly scrubs his hair dry with the towel before he dresses, grabs the bong and lunchbox, and heads downstairs.

Steve is in the kitchen, searching through the fridge, when Eddie gets there. His hair is dripping wet, and the sweater he’s wearing is too big, loose and hanging down to reveal his chest when he bends down.

“You hungry?” Steve asks, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. His eyes glance up and down. Eddie pretends not to notice.

“Maybe a little.”

Steve pulls some Tupperware out of the fridge and sets it on the counter before he reaches back in, looking back at Eddie.

“Did you re-bandage your stitches?”

“Uh, no,” Eddie says. He sets the box and bong on the island, watching as Steve pulls out two cans of Coke. “They’re not bleeding or anything.”

“Should still keep them covered,” Steve says. “So they don’t get caught on your clothes.”

“I don’t have…”

Steve just shakes his head.

“I got it.”

He pulls a first aid kit out from under the sink. Everything looks brand new, except the bottle of painkillers. Eddie leans against the counter as Steve pushes his shirt up, kneeling in front of him and carefully, gently bandaging him up.

Eddie laughs.

“What?” Steve questions, shooting a look up at him.

“Just…” Eddie sighs, looking at the ceiling, wincing as Steve presses medical tape to his skin so it sticks. “Helped prevent the end of the world. Somehow survived. Now I’m… standing in Steve Harrington’s kitchen.”

Steve laughs softly, moving onto Eddie’s other side. There are fewer stitches there, but the skin is all mangled. Steve is so gentle Eddie barely feels it.

“Who would’ve thought?” he says softly. Eddie just hums in response.

They’re eye to eye when he stands up. Eddie can’t tell which of them is taller. Steve’s eyes catch on his cheek, and he puts his fingers to Eddie's jaw, gently making him turn his face. Before Eddie can say anything, Steve is finding an ointment in the first aid kid and smearing it carefully over his cheek before he murmurs, “Tilt your chin up,” and Eddie looks up at the ceiling. Steve’s fingers press ointment over the injury on his neck. That one isn’t that bad, but Steve is still careful, almost tender. He bandages his cheek next, his teeth caught between his teeth and his brows furrowed in concentration.

Eddie takes the ointment when he’s done and wordlessly touches the underside of Steve's chin, making him look up so Eddie can do the same to his neck.

“When did you take the painkillers at the hospital?” Steve asks as they settle on the sofa.

“Uh.” Eddie hesitates, crossing his legs as he sorts out the weed. “Maybe two hours ago? Ish?”

“Think they have you to four to six hour ones,” Steve says. “Should last a while. If you need more in a few hours tell me.”

“Might not need ‘em,” Eddie says as he works. “If this works.”

Steve leans back against the armrest of the sofa and pops open a Coke as Eddie smokes, the empty house filling with the sound of the bong bubbling. He holds the smoke in his lungs until it burns, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back to blow the smoke at the ceiling.

“Yup.”

Steve snorts, and Eddie grins, opening his eyes to pass him the bong and the lighter.

“What would happen if your parents walked in right now?” Eddie asks, watching Steve he takes a hit, and Steve coughs, laughing as he blows the smoke out.

“They’d lose their shit,” he says, grinning. “Don’t know what they’d be more upset about, that I’m smoking weed or that I’m getting high with Eddie fuckin’ Munson.”

Eddie laughs, almost giggling, like it’s a compliment.

Steve takes another hit, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhales, and Eddie watches raptly, like he’s studying him.

Slowly, the pain in Eddie’s waist subsides, and he relaxes into the sofa, staring at Steve as they pass the bong and lighter back and forth, as they nibble at the fruit from the fridge, as they sip their Cokes. Eddie doesn’t even really know what they’re talking about anymore, but Steve is smiling, so it doesn’t matter.

The room is a little brighter when Steve smiles. Eddie’s eyes are stuck.

“You’re so annoying,” he says. Steve’s smile broadens, and he snorts.

“What the fuck did I do?”

Eddie huffs, taking a hit, watching Steve. He’s leaning against the back of the sofa now, slumping. His hair is almost dry, frizzy and wavier than Eddie expected.

“You’re so perfect,” Eddie complains, mentally cursing his lack of filter when he’s high. “Even in school, fucking… Golden boy Steve Harrington.”

Steve snorts, laughing quietly, childishly. Eddie likes seeing him like this. Relaxed, his brain quiet.

“Not so perfect anymore,” Steve says softly, still smiling.

“No,” Eddie disagrees. “Still perfect.” Steve rolls his head on the back of the sofa to look at him. Eddie nods. “Golden boy, perfect golden boy.”

Steve is smiling. His cheeks are flushed but Eddie can’t tell if it’s because of the weed or not.

“I mean seriously,” he says, because he can never shut up. It’s part of his charm. (Or lack thereof.) “I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”

Steve giggles.

Eddie passes him the bong and drains his Coke while he takes a hit.

“What do you think of when you look at me?” he asks as Steve blows smoke at the ceiling.

Steve looks at him, his eyes glassy.

“Don’t know,” he says softly. “‘S not really… like.” He takes a breath. “An image. I guess. Like, I see your face, but when I think about you, ‘s more of like…” He looks at the ground, his mouth twisting as he thinks. “A feeling.”

Eddie looks at him, his breath catching in his throat.

“What kind of feeling?” he asks, taking the bong from him. Steve barely seems to notice, looking at the ground. He’s quiet, his lips almost curved into a smile.

“Don’t know. Kinda… In my stomach,” Steve says quietly, almost mumbling. Eddie listens closely. “‘Nd my… my chest.” He runs his hand over his chest, over his heart. Eddie lowers the bong to his lap, his eyes following the movement. “Like a twisty kinda feeling.”

“Like you’re sick?” Eddie questions. Steve takes another breath.

“Kinda,” he says softly. “But like… a good sick. Like a…” He gestures vaguely with his hand, his fingers moving. “Like a fluttery sick.”

“Like… butterflies?” Eddie asks quietly.

“…Yeah.”

Eddie smiles, raising his eyebrows.

“Sounds like you gotta crush on me, Stevie.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, still staring at the ground, and Eddie wonders if he heard him, before Steve blinks and his face shifts. Hardens. His brows furrow slightly like he’s thinking, and then his eyes widen and he looks at Eddie.

Oh.

“Steve?” Eddie asks quietly, looking at him, and Steve looks away sharply, the hand that touched his chest reaching for his hair.

“Shit.”

He gets up, and Eddie’s eyes widen, and this must be the actual Upside Down, because Eddie’s world has been flipped over. The ugly paintings on the walls all fall to the ceiling, and the burnt wood in the fireplace falls up the chimney, and Steve doesn’t notice.

“Shit,” he says again. He’s pulling at his own hair, pacing across the room. “Shit.”

Eddie follows him up, putting the bong on the ground and dropping the lighter. It bounces off the carpet and lands under the sofa.

“Steve,” he says, reaching for his shoulder. “Hey.”

Steve turns when he pulls at his shoulder, and Eddie looks into his red-rimmed, teary eyes.

“‘S okay,” he says softly, pulling Steve closer. He reaches for the hand in his hair, gently pulling it away. “It’s okay.”

“‘M sorry,” Steve chokes, breathing hard, and Eddie shakes his head, reaching to hold Steve’s face.

“Don’t be,” he says softly, smiling. “Don’t be sorry, it’s okay. Breathe, Stevie.”

Steve inhales deeply, looking anxiously between Eddie’s eyes. Eddie nods.

“It’s okay,” he says when Steve exhales slowly. His thumbs brush over Steve’s cheeks.

“Eddie,” Steve says weakly. Eddie pulls his face forward and kisses his forehead gently.

“‘S okay,” he murmurs.

When he pulls away Steve’s eyes are closed, and Steve’s hands find him, hesitant and gentle and soft on his waist like he’s scared Eddie’s going to fight him off. Eddie steps closer.

“I like you too,” he says softly. Steve’s eyes flutter open and find Eddie’s.

“What?” he asks breathlessly, his eyes shining again, filling with tears.

“I have a crush on you,” Eddie says quietly, slowly. “Like a huge, debilitating crush.”

Steve’s eyes unfocus, trained on Eddie’s mouth like he’s trying to find the words written in the air between them.

“Really?” he asks so quietly Eddie almost can’t hear him.

Eddie grins.

“Really really. Like, since high school.”

“Woah,” Steve breathes. Slowly, his hands find Eddie’s cheeks, gentle over the bandage that Eddie forgot about, gentle over his skin. Eddie's eyes flutter shut when Steve leans closer, sighing when their lips brush, and then they’re kissing. It’s a brief kiss, soft and tentative and nervous, but Eddie is breathless and almost dizzy when they part.

Eddie pushes his fingers into Steve’s hair, smiling softly when Steve exhales slowly, shakily.

“I think…” Steve starts quietly, his forehead resting on Eddie’s. “…I may be too high for this.”

Eddie giggles quietly.

“We can talk tomorrow,” he whispers softly. Steve hums, tilting his head and closing his eyes.

“Kiss me again?” Steve murmurs, nudging their noses together.

“Thought you were too high for this,” Eddie breathes. He’s just as high as Steve is. The room is spinning a little bit.

“I know, I just…” Steve stops, swallowing and licking his lips and looking at Eddie with a desperation in his eyes that makes Eddie ache. “I just want…”

Eddie kisses him. Hard, and lingering, just a firm press of his lips to Steve’s, and a soft whimper escapes Steve’s throat, his hands tightening on Eddie.

Eddie kisses him again when they part, tilting his head, and then again, and again until Steve feels like he’s about to fall over, leaning against Eddie heavily.

“Woah,” Steve says again, his arms now around Eddie’s waist. Eddie grins, pushing his hair back.

He pulls Steve into a tight hug, gentle over his bandaged sides, and Steve presses his face into Eddie’s neck, taking a heavy breath. Eddie tugs him over to the sofa, and it takes them a moment to get situated, finding a position that doesn’t strain Eddie’s stitches, that doesn’t put weight on their sides. Eddie ends up on top of Steve, his head on his chest, Steve’s hand tracing over his back and slowly dragging through his tangled curls. Eddie holds his other hand and presses kisses to his knuckles before he holds his hand to his face.

And Eddie falls asleep, excited, for the first time in many long years, for the sun to rise.

[morganbritton132]

In the early days of Eddie’s internet career when he was doing absolutely anything to starve off boredom during covid lockdown, he joins this virtual D&D campaign with some other celebrities. It’s live-streamed to raise money for covid relief.

He’s in the middle of the campaign when he hears a very, very flirty, “Wow, is that rockstar, Eddie Munson? I’m your number one fan.”

Eddie’s eyes flicker to someone off camera and then he says with so much regret, “Babe, I’m working.”

You can hear Steve sigh off-screen and the sound of him leaving the room. Then you can hear someone laugh on screen and Eddie mumbles, “Shut up, Jeff.”

[demodoggonetired]

" Of Grit "

For the @steddiemicrofic August Prompt: Cake || 311 Words || Rating: G || Warnings: None

Steve vaguely recalls a heated debate, a held hostage remote knocked, and an open window.

One minute: channel surfing. The next: wrestling in the mud behind the Munson trailer. 

Neither are winning the tussle. Steve has years of jock tendencies but Eddie’s surprisingly wriggly, his fashion hiding what muscle he maintains. And Steve’s certainly paid attention to Eddie’s… maintenance. 

The two have been circling awhile now, mutual interest in pursuing more, obvious. But their competitive natures won out; who would cave first?

Well, Steve doesn’t mind upping the ante.

It’s a move that’s worked with previous partners; precise placement of the hands, plant yourself atop, apply body weight, hold their attention… 

Wiping his lips clean, Steve eases in for the kill, slow.

Glance at Eddie's lips.

Back to his eyes.

Lean those final centimeters.

And plant a hard kiss to his nose.

(Snag the remote from Eddie’s loosened grip, mission complete!)

Steve smirks, leaning back, expecting Eddie's reaction. When he only remains frozen, Steve can’t help but pause.

Thankfully, the metalhead comes back into himself, lurching upwards with a mud glob to Steve’s face.

Blinded, all Steve can taste is grime and clay. Defenseless to the sudden, confident press of lips to his own. A kiss of grit, certainty, and relief from month-long tensions.

Steve thinks he's willing to concede this one, the remote snatched and Eddie leaving with a chortle of victory.

He touches his mud and kiss slicked lips. Yeah, he doesn’t mind losing the battle if he wins the war and all that comes after.

—

When Wayne finally returns from his 10-minute lunch fetching, he’s greeted by the boys caked in mud, unable to make eye contact without breaking into giggles.

He’ll be gruff about the mess, but he’s all too happy to send them to clean up if it means Eddie gets more days like this.

[whathehonestfuk]

On my Mrs. Harrington x Claudia Henderson bullshit again apparently

If her husband can stick his dick in every pretty thing that caught his attention she could very well hate fuck her highschool rival

The only problem is they miscalculated how long the kids would be out of the house, or more accurately got a little too caught up with each other, meaning she was caught red handed getting some water in the kitchen half dressed and clearly just having had sex

[jonathanbyersphd]

Jonathan having to work at family video in s5 and that's part of why he and Robin become besties 🙏 (Steve is pouting in the corner with the cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates)

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID: a digital owl house comic spanning three images. Panel 1: The scene header reads "in the not so distant future, post hexsquad and C.A.T.Ts reunion" and features Luz, Lilith and Steve. They're in a forest and there's a tent in the background labeled "Camilla + hexsquad camp". Luz says "okay, so "owl house" is a game where King and The Collector reenact our adventures...using the people of the boilings isles sorta like NPCs in creatures and caverns...roleplaying as people from our lives!".

Panel 2: a close-up of Luz, resting her face on her hand, looking questioningly as she continues "hmm...but if everyone on the isle's been assigned someone from our lives to play in Owl House...then who's the collector playing?"

Panel 3: a shadow descends on Luz and she tenses up as a mysterious voice asks "isn't it obvious?"

The final "panel" is a full length image of the collector, dressed in Luz's season 1 outfit, floating above her menacingly as shooting stars and crescent moons swirl around him, the ground turning into a crescent effigy. White text sits above the collector, reading "I'm you". End ID]

Okay I had to post my predictions before we get a sneak peek. What better way to convince Luz her life is worth living than to have someone literally try to steal it!!

[psychotic-nonsense]

My favorite part about being obsessed with something is that you start looking for it everywhere. Especially in media that shares actors with the thing you’re obsessed with.

So thanks to the idea from one feralheartedalien here on tumblr and my current watching of A Quiet Place: Day One, I’m suddenly being roped into the Steddie Alternate Universe with Eric and Keys.

------ Minor "A Quiet Place: Day One" Spoilers after this point ------

Haven’t watched Free Guy in a while, but the dynamic is kinda sticking with me. Struggling, emotionally repressed, desperate, foreign exchange law student Eric, coming to the States for school due to parental pressure (can’t have a Steddie-like ship without some shitty parents). Redeemed bully, people pleaser, hopeless romantic, lonely Keys, trying to make something out of his love for programming and design while under his repressive boss (can’t have a Steddie-like ship without some doomed ambition).

Maybe next floor neighbors, Eric living right above Keys. He comes back to his basically empty apartment after school every day exhausted, collapsing on the carpet in his living room at 2am, lulled to sleep by the soft, muffled music in the place beneath him. Meanwhile, Keys only plays his "falling asleep" music when he's home, in hopes to calm the person above him, who has a habit of frequent pacing, self monologues, and unfortunately, breakdowns.

Maybe Eric just has a shit day at school one day; stressful projects, lack of progress in his studying, sleep deprived, and it’s absolutely fucking pouring on his way back home. Maybe Keys has accidentally memorized his neighbor’s schedule, accidentally began to care, and noticed how late it is. Maybe their floors are different but the rooms are the same, so when Eric pushes the wrong floor on the elevator, he ends up at Keys’s room. Breaks down when his key doesn’t work, falls to his knees in the hallway muffling sobs. Barely reacts when Keys opens his door because he’s so tired and cold and numb. Weakly tries to fight Keys’s attempts at help but nearly faints in this stranger’s arms. Eric finally lets himself be helped, loses himself in Keys’s thick blankets and soft music and well meaning rambling and killer hot chocolate-

Maybe that’s when Eric realizes how much this man has saved his life, and vows to return the favor.

[imthursdaysyme]

Early mornings with Steve and kali