#but here ya go stranger

[indecisive-neurodivergent]

when you get this ask you have to answer with 5 of ur fav songs and then send this ask to 10 of ur favourite followers :)

yk what stranger ill play along redo by the modern baseballs the absalut state of the union by the narssasists cook book heavy breather by the narsassits coobook little lion man by mumford and sons (realy good candy davekat animatic) bugbear Chloe moriondo (jade animatic) I cut myself shaveing (dave animatic)

[kingofscoops]

Spotify Wrapped Request Meme 2024 Edition

88. The Trooper by Iron Maiden + Steve Harrington for @steadfastsaturnsrings

Pick a song 1-100 and a fandom i’ll make a gifset with the lyrics

[miwiromantics]

I’m so hilarious…

[thefreakandthehair]

not inspired by my fiance for once, but by a friend! this is the meme referenced. just a little funny sorta-crack future ficlet. enjoy!

"Steve... what the fuck is this?" Eddie doesn't even let Steve set his work bags down before he's shoving his phone in his face, the meme Steve sent him earlier glaring up at him.

“A meme? Was that not clear?" Steve smirks and drops his bags, his shoulder brushing Eddie's as he scoots past him.

One of his students had managed to work the class into such an uproar over that exact meme, shouting various band names and excitedly discussing their choices, that Steve had given up and joined them. It’s the end of the school year anyways, and even his administration understands that the last week of school is all about survival. That’s how he ended up with a photo of a Create Your Dream Concert Lineup For $100 meme, and that’s how Eddie ended up spiraling into an existential crisis about it.

“But the numbers don’t add up!” Eddie complains, following Steve into the kitchen with his phone still open, the offending screenshot still unchanged despite how many times he’s looked at it. “With the price of each band, I’d have to choose between Metallica, Ozzy, and Iron Maiden.”

Steve scoffs and shakes his head as he grabs a water bottle from the fridge, shutting it with his hip and leaning back against the counter. “That’s right. $100 budget, so one has to go.”

Eddie stares at him, insulted and slack-jawed at the suggestion. “That’s not possible. I’ll just steal from you to round out the cost.”

“No can do, Munson. I already spent mine.” He winks and sips his water, watching Eddie’s eyebrows furrow.

“The fuck you did, these are all metal and hard rock. I don’t see Springsteen anywhere on this list, and I’ve stared at it a lot.” He waves his phone for emphasis.

Steve has, in fact, chosen his line up, probed and prodded by his students last period. Some of the bands he recognizes from his decades of partnership with Eddie, others he’s come to know on his own or from students. So sure, he has a line up, and if he spent a bit too much time thinking about how to get Eddie worked up about it, well, that’s between him and his phone.

He holds up three fingers on the hand not covered in condensation and ticks them off one by one.

“Ozzy, $40”

Eddie gasps.

“Slayer, $20.”

“Steve, what—”

“Queen, $40.”

Eddie blinks once, twice, before he sets his phone down and closes the distance, holds Steve’s face with both hands on either side, and tugs him in for a ridiculous, dramatic kiss. Steve laughs against his lips and pulls back, letting go with a loud mwah.

“I have to say, Harrington,” Eddie starts, his hands still firmly in place. “Other than our wedding, and maybe that one pick up basketball game I went to, this is the hottest you’ve been.”

Steve can’t help but to preen a bit, proud that his plan has worked— that Eddie’s proud, that Eddie’s looking at him with that fond smile and warm eyes over something so silly after all of these years.

“Oh really?”

“Hell yeah, sweetheart. I mean, Ozzy? Queen? Slayer? Talk metal to me.”

Eddie tugs him closer, wrapping both arms tightly around Steve’s waist and pressing their lips together again, this time with more heat, more urgency. Steve lets himself sink into it for a moment or two before he breaks the kiss, his own lips red and shiny.

“Metallica.”

“Steve, you’re killing me.”

“Megadeath.”

“How do you—”

Steve grins and leans closer, whispering into his ear. “Pantera. But only if it’s before Dimebag’a death.”

Eddie laughs and pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth. “You little shit, all these years I thought you were tuning me out and here you are, weaponizing it against me.” If they were still just dating, still in those early stages of their relationship, he’d be embarrassed at the way his pants tighten. But it’s not, and he’s not. “Wanna?” He nods towards the stairs, the ones that lead to the privacy of thier bedroom.

“Oh, not yet. No.” Steve almost laughs at Eddie’s confused head tilt. “You’ve gotta make your line up first.”

Eddie steps back, his hand over his heart and mouth ajar. “You— oh, for fucks sake. Alright, give me a few minutes.”

Turns out, Eddie can choose between Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Ozzy pretty quickly when the stakes include sex with his husband.

[unclewaynemunson]

Thanks to a conversation I had with @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe and @stevesbipanic about this post by @piratefishmama about Scott Clarke helping middle schoolers with sexuality crises I wrote a lil something :)

Scott Clarke has been worrying about Eddie Munson ever since the boy first set foot into his classroom. He was tiny for his age and thin on the verge of being scrawny, with big, scared eyes in a pale face. With his long, dark curls he was the kind of boy who would unavoidably be called names for being too much like a girl, and Scott wasn't surprised that it only took one week before the boy came in with his hair all buzzed off, pulling even more attention to his expressive eyes instead.

Scott was known for worrying about the nerdy kids, and even though it wouldn't be obvious to everyone right away, he immediately noticed that Eddie was one of those. He wasn't the kind of nerdy kid who would sit in the front of the classroom, hanging onto Scott's every word while avidly scribbling down the secrets of the universe that Scott liked to share. No, Eddie was the other kind of nerdy kid: the kind who would often be called dreamy, or imaginative, or quiet, or lazy. The kind who would retreat to the back of the class and get low scores on their tests because they were spending their time sneakily reading comic books underneath the table or staring out of the window with their mind completely elsewhere for hours on end.

Middle school wasn't an easy place for kids like Eddie, as Scott knew all too well. The only thing he could do, as a teacher, was try to make it a little bit more bearable for him. He was glad when the boy took him up on his offer to spend his lunch breaks in the science classroom instead of the cafeteria or the playground. Soon, it became a habit that Eddie would be on the other side of Scott's desk reading his way through some big book while Scott was grading papers or preparing his next lesson.

Scott knew that with patience and kindness, all kids like Eddie would eventually come out of their shell and start trusting him. So he asked about the books Eddie brought first, proceeded to topics like music and games he liked to play later, and eventually could ask him about his home life.

Whenever he'd talk about his books or his music, Eddie's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Scott soon found out that, when Eddie was at ease, he could talk a mile a minute and bounce around the classroom, caught up in his stories with all kinds of excited hand gestures. At those moments, he was nothing like the quiet boy with the haunted look in his eyes who Scott met two months ago.

But Eddie never disclosed much about his personal life. He didn't mention his mother even once and he didn't tell Scott much more than that he was living with his uncle in Forest Hills because his dad was “unavailable” to take care of him.

Scott doubted whether Eddie was much better off living with his uncle than with his father. Judging from the meager lunches he brought with him, the shabby and ill-fitting clothes he wore, and the fact that the man never once came to drop Eddie off or pick him up at school, Scott was skeptical, to say the least.

He started worrying even more when one day, Eddie lingered in the classroom after the last lesson of the day, saying he wanted to ask him a “science question” with a certain dread in his eyes that Scott had never seen there before.

“There's nothing I love more than a good science question,” Scott quickly reassured him. “Tell me, what is it?”

“The other kids,” said Eddie, “Brendon and Mark and, you know... They call me names.” His voice was soft and his eyes were aimed towards the ground as he spoke. “Queer. And fag. And...” He shrugged. “Y'know.” He raised his head up again, big scared eyes meeting Scott's.

“I – I think they're right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “How can you stop being gay?”

And oh, this was a conversation Scott had experience with. He had been a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for almost two decades and there had always been kids he worried about, who would open up to him about this exact topic.

So he sat Eddie down at his desk and patiently talked him through everything the boy needed to know; God knows his trailer park uncle most certainly wouldn't. He told him all about science and nature and feelings and, most importantly, being perfect the way you are, no matter who you love.

More than two hours later, Eddie finally left the classroom with relief in his eyes instead of dread. But Scott kept worrying: Eddie's uncle hadn't so much as called the school to inform where Eddie was. Who was looking out for him after the last school bell rang and the kid rode his bike out of Scott's sight?

Not long after that conversation, Scott finally got to meet Mr. Munson for the first time. He was one of Scott's last appointments of the yearly parent-teacher evening, and Scott half expected him not to show up. But he was right on time, even though he looked almost comically out of place when he walked into the science classroom.

He was exactly what Scott would've imagined of a man living in Forest Hills: washed-up jeans and a worn-down flannel, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a gruff frown hidden underneath a faded gray trucker's hat. He walked up to where Scott was seated behind his desk in a few big strides, and Scott couldn't help but think that there was something almost intimidating in merely the way he carried himself. Not exactly the kind of man who radiated safety for a boy like Eddie.

They shook hands and Scott felt rough callouses press against his own chalk-stained fingers.

While Scott talked Mr. Munson through Eddie's grade list – a list that at this point was barely enough to get him into the next grade – Mr. Munson didn't say anything. Only when Scott asked him if he had any questions, he opened his mouth.

“How're the other kids treatin' him?” the man asked him in a thick southern accent.

“It's not easy for him,” Scott answered in all honesty. He wondered how much Eddie told his uncle about what his days at school usually looked like.

Mr. Munson bowed his head. “I know,” he mumbled.

“Eddie is a sensitive kid, he –”

“I know what kinda kid he is,” Mr. Munson interrupted him immediately. It sounded sharp and Scott wondered if he should be worried about Mr. Munson having a temper.

“Of course,” he cautiously retreated. “I just assumed, since I've never seen you at the school before, sir, that you might not be aware of what exactly he has to deal with in here.”

“Maybe you should do less assuming, then,” Mr. Munson answered bluntly. “You think I should be at the school more? Drop Eddie here in the mornin', come pick him up in the afternoon, all that?”

Scott wondered if Mr. Munson was mocking him.

“Well, I think it might be good for Eddie if –”

“You know why I ain't never at the school? 'Cause I'm tryin' my damned best to keep that boy's stomach filled. When should I be at the school, exactly, between my day shift at the quarry and my night shift at the plant?”

“I – I'm sorry,” Scott backpedaled. Suddenly, the frown lines in the tired face of the man in front of him had gotten a different meaning. “I didn't know. You're right, I shouldn't have made assumptions.”

“Look, I dunno how much he shared with you, Mr. Clarke, but I know he looks up to you. So I think you should know that he's the kinda kid who got in trouble at home for bein' “too sensitive.”” He shot Scott a meaningful glance. “Boy was cryin' to me on the phone, 'cause of what his daddy did to him, so I picked him up and drove him here and I made it my mission, as his uncle, to protect him, to shield him, and to take care of him as best as I possibly can.”

Scott had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He wondered if he had ever been more wrong about somebody before in his life.

“I know he thinks highly of you, Sir,” Mr. Munson continued. “And I'm very grateful that you're keepin' an eye on him when I can't. But at some point, he may trust you with some very personal information about himself, and you better have his back when he does.”

He knows, Scott realized with a shock. He tried to give Mr. Munson a reassuring smile, but his heart was beating in his throat with what he was about to tell him.

“I was a sensitive kid, myself, Sir. I promise you Eddie is in good hands with me.”

Scott wondered whether Mr. Munson caught the message in those words while a long silence stretched out. Their gazes were locked: Mr. Munson's eyes were bright blue, completely different from Eddie's but just as expressive. His gaze softened while the seconds passed and underneath his graying beard, his mouth twitched.

“I was a sensitive kid, too,” he eventually said.

And Scott's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This man, with his big calloused hands and his trucker's hat and his undeniably manly demeanor?

His feelings of astonishment must have been visible on his face, because Mr. Munson chortled softly.

“Didn't see that one coming, did ya?”

Scott laughed, too, making the last bit of residual tension between them disappear. “I'm sorry, Mr. Munson. I had no idea.”

“'S okay,” Mr. Munson said. “'s good to know that Eddie has someone lookin' out for him here. Um –” He scraped his throat. “I um...” He abruptly averted his gaze back to his lap again, where his fingers were nervously fumbling with the cap he was holding between his hands.

“I always make Eddie dinner,” he finally said. “'S one of the few things I can do for him, y'know. It'd probably be better for me if I took a quick nap 'tween my jobs, but it's the only time of the day we got together. I'm not much of a cook, but I try to get him to eat somethin' healthy and warm, and we talk about stuff, whatever it is he wants to talk about. So um... If you ever wanna join us – that is, if you don't mind comin' to the trailer park... We don't have much, but I'm sure we can fit another chair 'round the table. I think it could be good for Eddie.”

Scott could barely believe what was happening. To think that only a few minutes ago, he had been worried about this man having a temper or being neglectful towards his nephew...

Wayne Munson was shy and soft-spoken and he loved Eddie with a passion that sparked a fierce protectiveness. And after having Scott judge him based on the way he looked and a bunch of false assumptions, he showed him nothing but genuine goodness.

He felt his lips bend into a smile more authentic than he'd been able to give in a while.

“I'd love to join you sometime,” he told Mr. Munson. “For Eddie – but I also wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” he added in a sudden spur or braveness.

And he could swear that something suspiciously like a smile matching his own was hiding beneath Mr. Munson's beard.

[absentlurker]

Have a little Ficlet!!!

~~~~~~

Wayne sighs heavily as he walks into the trailer after a long night shift. The lights were off in the living room except for a small Coca Cola night light plugged in above the kitchen counter. He locks the door before dumping his keys on the kitchen table before taking off his jacket. He kicked off his boots after hanging his jacket on the back on the table chair.

Wayne grabs his boots and placed them against the wall beside the front door before walking down the short hall to Eddie’s bedroom door.

He paused before the cracked door when he heard voices softly talking. Eddie and Steve, Wayne thought to himself and started to walk away but paused when their voices started to rise a little in the bedroom.

Nosey old man, Wayne chuckles at himself as he turns his head so he can hear better.

“I know you’re scared to get hurt again, baby,” He hears Eddie say. Wayne’s brows furrowed, “but you can’t let that stop you from letting people in, Steve.”

Wayne hears Steve huff and it’s quiet for a moment before Steve says weakly, “You don’t understand. I think about if we don’t make it and I’m just sick to my stomach.” Wayne hears some movement and Eddie’s bed squeaking as he moves.

“Honey, what’s the alternative?” Eddie questions with a hum, “are you going to let us go because of a maybe? Baby, I can’t see the future but you gotta take risks sometimes.”

Steve doesn’t say anything which worries Wayne because god, Eddie would beside himself if Steve were to break up with him. He’s so gone on that boy.

He’s surprised how calm Eddie sounds when he says, “You know, I’ve been there.”

“Huh?” Steve questions, “what do you mean ‘you’ve been there’?”

Eddie takes a deep breath and says, “When I moved in with Wayne, I had convinced myself I wasn’t gonna trust him.” Wayne stops the noise that threatens to escape at the confession. What?

“What? Wayne?” Steve asks and he hears Eddie’s voice crack as he laughs at Steve’s surprise.

“Yeah, man. I was terrified to let anyone in again. After my dad-“ Wayne’s heart aches as Eddie’s voice breaks, “Well, you know…I didn’t want to let anyone in or love anyone because what’s the point, you know? They’re just going to hurt me and they didn’t understand me anyway.” Eddie snorts softly, “Did you know I didn’t even speak to Wayne for about six months when I first showed up?”

“Really?” Steve asks softly. Wayne remembers those days. God, they were so difficult. Wayne constantly felt like he was doing everything wrong back then.

“Yeah, I honestly don’t know how he managed. I was such an asshole to him for no reason back in the beginning.”

No, Wayne thought, you were a grieving little boy who lost everything he knew.

“He didn’t give up though. God, I still remember when I came home from school when I was like eleven. I had a black eye because I got in a fight over something I don’t remember and I was just angry all the time. I refused to tell him what happened and honestly, I was trying to start a fight with him.” Eddie admitted distantly, “I guess I wanted him to yell at me and prove he was just like everyone else and you know what he did?”

“What?” Steve whispers, he sounds as invested in his story as Wayne is even though he was there.

“He grabbed me and hugged me so tight,” Eddie sounds choked up and honestly, so is Wayne. “He-he said, ‘boy, I understand you’re angry and you miss your old life but I’m going to be here even if you build concrete walls around yourself. And I’m going to love you and care for you and if you think for one second I won’t go down to that school and raise hell because of your face, you gotta thing comin’” Eddie laughs to himself, “and he did! He stomped down to that middle school and told off the principal for not expelling that boy who hit me.” Eddie snickers softly, “Jesus, that was great.” He hears Steve laughing quietly.

“I knew I loved him then,” Eddie continues, “and I wasn’t even mad about it. It was a risk because it was still in the beginning and he could still hurt me one day but you know what?” Eddie sounds content, “He hasn’t. He probably doesn’t understand everything I do and say because dude, I can be so weird sometimes,”

Steve interrupts with a laugh before saying, “True.” Wayne nods in agreement.

“Rude. But he doesn’t care and he loves me anyway.”

Wayne hears Eddie move around before he says, “Stevie, I’m asking you to take a risk with me. I know you’ve been hurt and it’s made you doubt yourself about love and relationships but the planet is going to keep spinning with or without me and don’t you wanna see where it goes?”

Steve sounds on the edge of tears when he says, “Yeah, yeah, I do.”

“Yeah?”

Steve laughs, “Yeah, you goof.” Wayne smiles to himself when he hears the obvious sound of lips smacking together.

“You won’t regret it, Stevie, I’ve got a good feeling.” Eddie tells him playfully.

Wayne turns away from Eddie’s door to walk back down the hall with a smile on his face.

Maybe he didn’t mess up that much trying to raise that little ten year old who showed up at his door all those years ago.

~~~~~~~

(inspiration for this was from the song the alternative by Lyn Lapid)

[avalonlights]

Listen: I love them. 🥺💖

[lunabug2004]

I’ve thought about this recently, and I’d like to lead with this is no hate towards Max, and I do realize the differences between these situations. But, that being said, why are so many people so ready to accept Max being depressed after Billy’s death, but some people still refuse to believe Mike was depressed after the events of s1? He legitimately believed he saw his missing friend’s dead body get pulled out of the water, and then he watched El disappear. These are two “deaths” directly witnessed by Mike, and both were the two people closest to him. Then, for us “mike is still depressed” believers, he also is front and center during Will’s possession (losing his best friend to the monsters a second time) and also watches as the Byers leave for Cali. Those two, Will and El, are his whole world, and after all they’ve experienced, to have to watch them leave… my poor baby :(

[eyesore-boi]

Stranger Things'd your In Space with Markiplier Trailer

[PLEASE TURN ON AUDIO TO HEAR WHAT I MEAN]

So uh

Yeah

I may or may not have done a thing

So y'see- I had some free time in my Digital Media class the other day, and on the computers on there they had Premiere Pro, a progam I'm starting to learn, but now pretty know just the bare basics of.

So, with that knowledge, I decided to, reasonably, inact on an idea I had for a w h i l e which included getting the trailer In Space with Markiplier and putting the trailer music for Stranger Things 4 (Separate Ways) over it after finding out how incredibly well they worked together.

And so here we are-

I know it's not perfect, again just started learning how to use PremierePro, and a few places had to really squeeze/stretch it out to fit with the music, but I think I'm pretty happy with the end result!

Part of me is really satisfied to finally have this idea of mine put out, and ey! Who knows? Maybe I'll try this again one day with other trailers and trailer songs...already starting to get a few ideas...

But anyhoo till then, if you excuse me I'll let some brainrot consume me again, and hopefully with this trailer edit, it'll get to you again t o o -

[eskawrites]

I am NOT thinking of a Narnia au but I AM thinking of Susan Pevensie and Nancy Wheeler parallels. Elder sisters. Girls who are forced to become women to save the world. Leaders and warriors who have to somehow learn to go back to real life when all is said and done. Heroes who are rejected by the worlds they save, left all alone in the end

Susan is just trying to hold her family together when suddenly magic becomes real, and everyone seems to believe in it just a little bit harder than she does. Because where there are fauns in the wood and talking beavers serving tea, there is also a war brewing, and no one else is going to be the voice of reason, so it falls to her. Lucy can just be a kid, and Peter can be a king, and even Edmund can be a hero, but Susan has to be a grown up. She has to be mature. Wise. Reasonable. She has to have impeccable aim and a chin held high and a stoic, unshakable demeanor whether she’s hanging out with her friends or mourning the dead. And it’s still not enough, because when all is said and done, Narnia turns her away. It forgets about her. She saves the world again and again and she’s still left all alone, losing everyone she loves.

Nancy Wheeler is just trying to figure out who she is when suddenly monsters become real, and her brother and his friends can look at it through a lens of fantasy and heroes, but she knows better. Because in a fantasy story, people would be looking for Barb, too. They would save her and bring her back. But no one even believes her that something happened, so it falls to her. Despite all the trauma the others go through, they still just get to be kids. Will comes back, and they can cheer and laugh and celebrate with him in the hospital room. And Steve can try to move on and be normal again. But Nancy loses everything. So she tries and fails to go back to normal life. She practices with her gun until she has impeccable aim, she practices in the mirror until she can hold her head high. She never quite manages the stoic, unshakable demeanor—she’s never with friends, anyway; she’s always mourning the dead. And it’s still not enough, because the world turns her away. The lab getting away with everything. Steve being unable to help her heal. The men at work treating her like shit. Jonathan not understanding and eventually growing distant. She doesn’t even get the golden years that Susan gets while she’s queen. She’s just left mourning, angry, watching everyone ignore or question or belittle her every time. Nancy saves the world again and again and she’s still left all alone, losing everyone she loves

[yalibat]

in my mind im having a party

[starsarefire824]

Preview of Chapter 26 of Demons of Change

“What was your favorite part?” Will asks, shuffling down the huge stone staircase of the MET. He squints at Mike in the harsh autumn sunlight, a cool burst of wind biting at his cheeks. Mike smiles and peeks at Will out of the corner of his eye. He's paying attention to his feet.

“I liked the armor,” he admits as they wander past hot dog stands and buses full of tourists and students without the good fortune of being on Thanksgiving break yet. 

Will pauses a moment and grins. “I saw your name at the arcade.” 

Mike hums, unveiling a knit hat from his jacket pocket and pulling it onto his head. It’s dark blue and white with the Indianapolis Colts symbol stitched across the front, and Will has a sneaking suspicion that it’s someone else’s. 

Will tampers down the possessiveness that boils just below the surface again, trying to remind himself of the mess he’s walked into. Hell, he's practically inserted himself. He tries to remember that Mike has come here to be with him, and yet he does so with a freshly carved open wound. 

The hat could very well be as simple as that: something he had lying around and needed to use. Or, it could be something else: a piece of comfort to make a horrible thing a little more bearable. Either way, Will feels like it’s probably none of his business, despite it bringing the other boy to the forefront of his mind. Instead, he focuses on how Mike looks good in dark blue and how wearing a hat brings out the angles of his face he likes. He focuses on how his curls fly out the sides along his collar.   

Will’s shoulder brushes against Mike’s. “And the book….” he continues.

“Yeah,” Mike affirms with a quick smile.

Will returns it. “You like knights, don’t you?” 

Mike laughs softly as they follow behind Jonathan hailing a cab. It’s carried away by the sound of the traffic cruising past. The sound of the city overwhelms Will. He’ll need to get used to that for when his first semester of college starts.

Mike quickens his pace as a cab halts in front of them, pulling Will by his hand and into the back seat. They pile in and Will likes how close Mike is, wedged tightly between Jonathan and himself. 

Mike catches his eye and grins, the happiness plainly written across his features. It makes Will’s heart flutter in his chest. “I love knights,” he tells him, then wets his lips. “Thank you for taking me.” 

Will shrugs, a blush making him hot. “It was Jonathan’s idea,” he replies softly, his voice breaking a little with nervousness. 

Mike blinks and smiles some more, and after a while, when they’re almost to his brother’s house and have sat in a comfortable silence listening to the driver’s radio, Will’s mouth opens gently in surprise when he feels Mike’s hand sneak between their thighs. His hand slides up the seat until he finds Will’s. He laces his fingers through Will’s, and then shifts his leg so their embrace is secreted away. Will can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips and soft sigh of exclamation when Mike squeezes him affectionately. When Will looks over Mike isn’t looking at him. His face is still and serious as he gazes at the window on the other side, watching the city go by over Jonathan’s shoulder. 

But there is something simple and sweet about him, so personal and real, that in that moment Will finally comes to the utterly terrifying and magnificent realization. The tiny seed that was planted that night at the edge of the quarry, and had been fed and watered by kisses in cornfields and whispers in libraries is now healthy and alive and in full bloom.

Will is in love with Mike Wheeler. 

[mourntheantagonist]

I always love the “they already go by a nickname so your nickname for them is their full name” trope, and I’m just thinking about how that would work with steve and billy.

I imagine they both have very different relationships with their full first names. I feel like with billy, “william” is associated with a lot of painful memories. I think billy was a name he picked out himself, and it’s a symbol of just that small bit of power he did have in moments when he felt powerless. william was the name that neil picked, but billy was the one he got to choose, and it was the name his mom always called him. so I don’t think billy would like steve calling him that all that much, and would much prefer things like baby, and love, and any other soft terms of endearment.

steve on the other hand. I think steve actually really likes his full name. I imagine he grew up always going by steve. his mom would call him stevie, or stevie-poo, or stevie-kinz or other variations of the kind. the only time it was ever “stephen” (yes, stephen, not steven. fight with the wall) was when it was being said in that typical ‘you’re in big trouble mister’ kind of tone. that was true for everyone except his grandparents. to them it was always stephen. and when they said it, it made him want for everyone to call him that. unfortunately, they both passed when he was still just a kid, and he went for what felt like forever without hearing his name said outside of the aforementioned moments of warning from his parents, and also the standard first day roll calls.

until billy, one day, completely unscripted, calls him stephen. it isn’t said in some condescending or sarcastic tone, but rather, it’s said in a loving, tender, and incredibly soft tone. it’s said just the way his grandparents would say it.

they’re just curled up on the couch watching a movie, steve essentially sitting in billy’s lap while billy runs his fingers through his messy hair. billy, just because, presses a kiss to the top of his head, and says it.

“my perfect stephen.”

steve must have reacted in a certain way that told billy to keep calling him that, because from that point forward he was always stephen to billy. not just alone, but everywhere. even when steve wasn’t around. he once got a call from robin asking if she was supposed to be calling him that now because billy had come into the store only referring to him as such.

steve paused for a second on that phone call, thinking back to those first few months after his grandma passed when he was just desperate to hear the name again, and how he wanted everyone to call him that. he thought back to that time and told her no.

no. he decided.

only billy got to call him that.

[itsalwaysdark]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms

[stillavoidingbaddays]

If Blame was drum & bass...

[jadewritesficshere]

18+only MDNI

Eddie had just pulled up to a red light when he heard a noise that was very evidentally not Dio. The beeping on his right caused Eddie to look over at the man riding in his passenger seat. Steve looked tense and his watch was going off. Eddie figured it was because a few minutes before he had slammed abruptly to avoid hitting a dog, throwing his arm out to protect Steve. The seatbelt did more to protect Steve then Eddie's arm did, but Eddie had kept his hand in Steve's space, eventually placing it on his knee. Eddie moved his hand from Steve's knee now,"You alright?" Steve startled at Eddie's words. "Huh? Yeah m'fine why?" Steve looked over at Eddie, face filled with confusion. Eddie cleared his throat and nodded at his watch," No reason..You got a message..one of your friends need ya?" Steve mumbled an oh and immediately started messing with his watch," Sorry about the noise...nah all is fine." Eddie nodded and focused back on driving.

This wasn't the first time Steve's watch had went off without Steve noticing. In fact, it was a very common occurrence. Steve never realized how loud it was as he had it turned down to the point he couldn't hear it anymore, but everyone else still could. Eddie watched as the kids gave him shit for it, but Eddie didn't care. He had been there the day Steve actually had his watch on silent. The day no one heard his watch go off. The day Steve missed getting texts and calls from the kids about an emergency. The look of panic on his face and the way he couldn't speak when Jane had ran into work and was crying. It all was fine, but Max had fallen off her skateboard and broken her wrist. The way Steve had felt so guilty and scared, Eddie didn't want him to have to go through that again. Eddie was fine with the noise of the watch. It was a little annoying, sure, but Eddie would rather get a lil annoyed from the noise then have Steve in pain.

Eddie would often just notify Steve his watch was going off. It seemed to be happening constantly now though, and Eddie couldn't help the envy he was feeling. He never had anyone text him first, he always had to start conversations. The only people who he had consistent conversations with and didn't always have to text first were Jeff, Gareth, Steve, and most surprisingly Robin (she sent him the best memes that made him cry from laughter). Hell, the time his phone was the most active was when he had been dealing and he hadn't done that for almost a year. Sure, maybe it was hard to text him because he either responded immediately or didn't respond for days on end... but Steve seemed to always have people texting him. Last week, they had been out to the diner and were eating milkshakes and sharing fries. Intermittently, his watch had went off all meal as they had laughed and joked around. Then this past weekend, Eddie was showing him a new song he wrote. Eddie could barely focus as the watch kept going off (not Steve's fault, but he kept wondering if Steve was just being nice and listening when he wanted to be elsewhere the way he kept messing with his watch).

Yesterday, everyone had been hanging out at Steve's. Everyone had been drinking, some weed was being passed around, it was just a good time. Robin was telling a story and half leaning against Steve; Steve had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Eddie should have been paying attention to Robin's story and how animated she was, talking with her hands and having everyone else laugh. But Eddie was thinking about how he wanted to be the one to lean against Steve. Eddie had rolled his eyes, knowing he needed to get his jealousy under control. He had sighed and looked down at his beer, wondering what it would feel like for Steve to lean right and wrap an arm around his shoulders. No! Steve was straight, he shouldn't think about Steve this way. Eddie had been glaring at his drink when Steve had tapped his knee. "You ok?" Steve looked concerned. Eddie had batted his eyes and went," Awh, you concerned for me Sweetheart?" Steve had just blinked at him and went to say something when his watch had went off, causing Robin to grab his arm and attempt to tap the watch (missing terribly because she was drunk). Steve had jerked away and fumbled with his watch before standing up and leaving the room. Eddie frowned as obviously whoever texted him was more important then hanging out.

Eddie scowled at the memory, pulling into Steve's driveway. He knew he needed to get his jealousy under control. Deep down, Eddie knew he didn't care that Steve had more friends then him. It was the fact that Steve would always divert his attention. That Steve would always make faces or be awkward after silencing his phone. Fuck, maybe he was joking about Eddie? Talking shit behind his back? He was King Ste- no. Steve isn't like that anymore.

"You okay?" Steve asks hesitantly. Eddie hadn't even realized Steve had left the car and had opened Eddie's door. "Just peachy," Eddie rolls his eyes. Steve's brow furrowed slightly and Eddie exhaled a deep sigh. "I think I'm just gonna go," Eddie looked down at the steering wheel, clenching and unclenching his fists around it. "What? We were gonna watch that movie you've been talking about," Steve shakes his head, "literal weeks you've been talking about it man." Eddie isn't sure why he's so upset; he knows he got in his own head, he can't even remember the drive here. Eddie feels a burn deep in his chest, he almost feels like he could cry. "Eddie?" Steve gently rests his hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Its fine! Just go hangout with your other friends or whatever," Eddie blurts out. He knows he isn't even really thinking, having worked himself up into a frenzy.

"Huh? What other friends?" Steve asks as Eddie brushes Steve's hand off. Eddie glances at Steve and has to look away at the hurt look on his face. "The ones who keep texting you." Eddie sighs. He shouldn't take this out on Steve. Steve hasn't done anything wrong. "No one's texting me?" Nope okay Steve has done something wrong. Eddie's head snaps to look at Steve's so quickly Eddie is pretty sure he gave himself whiplash," You're a liar and a thief Steve! A liar! I hear your watch go off all the time. I know I'm dumb, can't even graduate fucking high school, but I'm not that dumb!" Eddie is breathing hard as he stares into Steve's eyes. Steve looks as uncomfortable as he feels- which Eddie feels is pretty justified as really this was all Steve's-

"It's my heart rate."

-fault really, none of this was Eddie's fault and wait. Eddie blinks at Steve," what?" Eddie has never seen Steve blush. Get flustered? Sure. Embarrassed? Maybe once. But Steve's face has flushed red. "It's my heart rate...when it gets too high it alerts me." "Why?" "I dont know it was a setting and I don't know how to turn it off an-" "no, why is your heart rate going so high?" "...seriously?"

Eddie feels more dumb than ever as Steve gives him a look that he knows is Steve's are you shitting me right now? Look. "Yeah?" Eddie wishes his voice didn't break right then, he sounds as pathetic as he feels. Steve huffs and runs a hand through his hair. "Seriously? Dude c'mon, don't make me say it!" Steve's blush spreads from his face down his neck. Eddie can't help but trace it with his eyes, wondering how far it spreads. The silence between them grows. "So uh you gonna tell me or-" "It's you!" Eddie pulls back at Steve's exclamation. "What did I do?"

Steve glares at Eddie. "What did you do? What did you do??" Steve throws his arms in the air and stalks away from the vehicle. Eddie scrambles trying to leave the van and getting caught by his seat belt. "Shit," he unbuckles and runs after Steve," Steve wait! I didn't do anything!" Steve turns on his heel and points a finger in his face," You didn't do anything? You flirt with me constantly!" Eddie winces as the realization hits, Steve has been uncomfortable this entire time.

They both open their mouths and start to speak over each other, "Steve, I'm sorry I didn't realize you were-" "Flirting with me making me fall for you and you have the audacity to-" "-so uncomfortable I just couldnt help it you're so attractive-" "- act like nothing is happening? I fell for you and you-"

Eddie and Steve both stop speaking and stare at each other. The air seemed thick around them. "I wasn't uncomfortable." Steve drops his hand. "Did you just say you fell for me?" Eddie blinked, mouth falling open. Steve looks away and nods slowly. "Holy shit..." "That's all you can say?" "Give me a minute i just found out my crush likes me!" "...you didn't know?"

Eddie chuckles slightly before shaking his head."I'm dumb remember?" Steve scowls at his words," You aren't dumb quit saying that." Eddie gently cups Steve's face with his hand," This okay?" "Yeah..." Eddie leans in slowly, letting his lips hover in front of Steve's. Before he can ask if it is okay to kiss him, Steve leans forward and their mouths meet. Eddie's eyes flutter closed as their lips slowly move in tandem. Steve grabs Eddie's hips and yanks him closer, making him gasp. Steve takes the opportunity and licks into Eddie's mouth. Their tongues intertwine, and Eddie is pretty sure this is his new favorite flavor. Steve pulls away to catch his breath and Eddie leans forward, kissing his cheek and trailing kisses down his neck. He kisses Steve's pulse and hears Steve gasp. "You like that?" He asks as he nips at Steve's neck. A beeping noise reaches Eddie's ears causing him to laugh. Eddie isn't jealous about that noise anymore. In fact, it may be his favorite noise in the world.