#but on the side

[estrellami-1]

Forgotten Valentine’s

Robin walks into the break room, where Steve’s trying to get through an article in a magazine he picked up because even on break he’s bored. “Steve? Eddie came to drop this off for you.”

Steve perks up. “Eddie’s here?”

Robin snorts. “No, he popped in for literally like eight seconds, threw this at me with instructions to give it to you, and ran out again.”

Steve grins. “Did he run into the door?”

Robin grins back. “And cursed at it on his way out.”

Steve sighs happily as he takes the note.

Stevie,

Wear something nice tomorrow, big boy. I’m picking you up at 11am sharp.

E

Robin judges him with her eyebrows. “You two are the bane of my existence.”

“Uh-huh. And Nancy?”

“An angel and the light of my life and can do no wrong, shut up, Steve.” She sighs happily, the exact sound Steve had made less than a minute earlier.

He decides not to point it out.

———————

He does, actually, wear something nice the next day. Eddie does pick him up at 11am, Springsteen playing on the radio, which makes Steve grin at Eddie and lean in for a quick kiss.

“Okay, yes, I love you too, but I’ve got plans, sweetheart, and those plans do not involve getting sidetracked by those lips of yours. Which should be legally classified as a weapon, ‘cause damn, baby.”

Steve just laughs, so in love. “You’re so weird.” He means I love you, and they both know it, so Eddie just shoots him a toothy grin in response.

He takes Steve to a wildflower field. “I considered just getting you flowers, but then I figured this would mean even more, right? So. Tell me what you want. Or pick them yourself, even.” He grins and stretches to grab actual gardening shears and twine from the backseat.

“I’m in love with you,” Steve informs him. Eddie does the thing with his eyebrows where his expression gets all melty.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he says softly, then grins again and shoves the shears into Steve’s hands. “Start pickin’, sweetheart.”

Steve laughs, grabs the shears, and runs out of the car.

After they’ve collected almost a full bouquet—and run for their lives from a bee from an ill-picked flower—they tumble back into the car, love-drunk and giggly, before Eddie manages to collect himself.

“Okay, wow, I’m starting to think buying the flowers would’ve been worth it,” he teases, and Steve just laughs at him. “Anyways. Um. How does a movie sound? I know it’s not necessarily super romantic or whatever but I feel like we could use some down time.”

“Sure,” Steve laughs. “Your place or mine?”

“Mine work for you?”

“Always,” Steve promises, and Eddie’s eyebrows do the thing again, so he reaches to grab Eddie’s right hand and run his thumb over the knuckles.

They head back to the trailer, find a vase for the flowers, and cuddle in closer than absolutely necessary for the movie.

Eddie sneaks away halfway through, citing bathroom. Steve catches on the first time he drops something in the kitchen, but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even move, just keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the TV.

Dinner is delicious, and romantic as hell, because Eddie somehow found candles somewhere, and they don’t match but that isn’t the point, not when he’s looking at Steve with his heart in his eyes and on his sleeve.

They have spaghetti, and Eddie references that one scene from The Lady and the Tramp, and now Steve’s got his heart in his eyes, and on his sleeve, and they laugh like kids as they try—and fail miserably—to recreate the scene.

It ends with spaghetti sauce splattered on their faces and shirts and the table and somehow the wall. Steve immediately blames Eddie. Eddie just kisses him, which works really well to shut him up.

“Not that I don’t love all this,” Steve starts, surveying the table with a grin, “but is there an occasion or is this just ‘cause? Because this feels like an occasion type of thing.”

An expression flickers across Eddie’s face, there and gone before Steve has time to study it, to figure out what it means. “Just ‘cause, sweetheart, what, I can’t dote on my boy every now and again?”

Steve laughs, pulling him in by the neck to place a sweet kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I’ll never say no to that.”

———————

“Oh my god, Steve,” Robin says the next day. “You’re not gonna believe what Nancy did for me yesterday.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, slightly surprised that they’d both gone on dates, then immediately thinks weirder has happened and puts it out of his mind. “Tell me.”

“Okay, so I get home and there’s a note, and oh my god why are she and Eddie the same, or maybe we’re the same, which we are, but anyways. There’s just a place and time. So I get ready, because I might not know what she’s planning but I know she’s planning something, and I drive over, and it’s the Quarry, and she made me an entire fucking picnic.” She stares at him, wide-eyed, palms flat on the counter as she leans forward. “So we eat, and she has flowers, of course, it’s Valentine’s, and she was so fucking sweet, and then-”

Steve feels like an entire bucket of ice water has been poured on his head. “Wait,” he says, and oh, God, how could he forget, and that’s what the face was about yesterday- “Robs, oh my God, I’m the worst boyfriend in the history of the world, fuck.” He grips his hair with both hands, feels hot tears pricking in his eyes. Shuts them and hisses out again, “fuck.”

“Whoa,” Robin says, “okay, that’s… quite the generalization, bud, and also if it has to do with Eddie, he’s, like, ass over tits for you, I seriously doubt you could fuck up that bad-”

“I forgot,” he whispers, and she shuts up. “I forgot yesterday was Valentine’s. I- fuck, Robs, I gotta go, I gotta-”

“Steve,” Robin says, stopping his spiraling with two firm hands on his shoulders. “Calm down, or I’m stealing your keys. You can’t drive like this. Take a breath. Eddie’s not gonna hate you, okay?”

Steve takes a breath. Another. “But I forgot-”

“I know. And I’m willing to bet Eddie knows. Did he act at all different yesterday?”

“No… no, I mean, he made a face when I asked what everything was for, but then it was gone so quickly I thought I imagined it, and Robs, holy fuck, I don’t deserve him.”

Robin chuckles. “I think you two dinguses exactly deserve each other, actually. Take a breath and go talk to him. If Keith asks I’ll make something up, you know I’m good at that. Clock out, actually, don’t come back, I’ll tell him food poisoning or something. Take your boy on a date, Steve.”

“Okay,” he breathes, then nods. “Okay. I will. Thanks, Robbie.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and runs out.

———————

“You fucker,” Steve says loudly as soon as he’s in the trailer, accusing finger pointing at Eddie, who raises his hands like a kid with a cookie jar and crumbs on their face.

“I don’t know what I did, but I apologize.”

“No, shut up, you don’t get to do that, you don’t get to plan a Valentine’s date for me and then not tell me! Fuck! Eds, I’m so sorry.” He deflates, hand coming down and shoulders slumping. “I wish I could tell you I had something planned, but I didn’t. And I know there’s ways for me to remember, there’s calendars and sticky notes and shit, and I didn’t do any of that and I have no one to blame but myself and I’m sorry.”

Eddie stands, walking over to Steve to pull him into a hug. “Darling, I need you to listen to me on this, okay?” He asks seriously, pushing Steve’s head back to drop a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t care.” He waits until Steve’s brow begins to furrow before continuing. “I don’t care that you forgot. I don’t care that there might be ways to help you remember. I like you for you, not for whatever mask you wore in high school, even if I did have an embarrassing crush on you back then. Point is I’m here for you now, and the you that I’m in love with sometimes forgets some things. Who cares? Not me. I’ll never care. Every day with you is an adventure, Stevie. All the big dramatic love confessions in those romance movies you like so much are basically wedding vows, I know you know this, and there’s a reason sickness and health are in there. Sickness is as low as a person can get. Once you’ve seen them sick, you’ve seen them hurt and upset. If you can love them then, you can love them. And I’ve seen you in sickness, sweets. There’s nothing you can do to make me love you any less. There’s nothing you can do to make me regret going all out for something that made you happy, even if the reason behind it has to shift.”

Steve blinks back tears. “I hate you.”

“Mhm. Love you too. Give me a kiss, sweetheart.”

He does, pressing in close, keeping it closed-mouth but pouring in all his devotion until Eddie feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Whoa,” he murmurs when they pull back, then grins at Steve, keeping him close. “What’d I tell you, about your lips, they’re dangerous, sweets.”

“Shuddup,” Steve says, and buries his face in Eddie’s chest. “I love you so much.” He pulls back suddenly. “Robin gave me the rest of the day off, because she’s the best platonic soulmate ever, and if you’re not busy, can I take you on a date?”

“Steve,” Eddie starts, and Steve will never get over the way that Eddie just says his name. He’s so whooped. “Is this to make up for yesterday?”

Steve shakes his head. Eddie gives him a look. Steve hesitantly nods.

Eddie sighs and rests their foreheads together. “You don’t need to do that, baby.” At one point they started swaying together, and now they’re dancing in the kitchen to no music, and Steve could cry with how in love he is.

“But… you did all that, and didn’t even mention it when I forgot, and Robin says we deserve each other but I kinda feel like you’re a better man than I will ever be-”

“Steve,” Eddie says again, punctuating it with a kiss. “I’m serious. I don’t need it. You don’t need it. C’mon, c’mere, we can have a date right here, there’s a pizza in the freezer and I have movies, c’mon, just come sit with me. This is date enough for me.”

“Eds, c’mon, it’s not just a date-”

“Says who?” Eddie asks. He’s grinning like he knows Steve doesn’t have an answer. He’s right, but still.

“Eddie. It’s Valentine’s.”

“Yup. I know you love it, sweetheart, but it kinda goes against the Munson Doctrine.”

“I thought you did away with that when you kissed me.”

“Pretty sure you kissed me,” Eddie says on reflex, like he does every time. “But my point still stands. It’s nothing but a ploy to make people buy overpriced shit to make themselves feel better about themselves and their love life or lack thereof. I refuse to participate.”

Steve pauses. Grins. “Today’s the fifteenth.”

“That’s correct.”

“Candy’s discounted right now.”

“Fuck,” Eddie whispers, then starts laughing. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s go buy me candy. But that’s it. Then we’re coming back and watching a movie, deal?”

Steve grins, bright and happy and in love, as he leans in for a kiss. “Deal.”

[scretladyspider]

“If you have time to watch Netflix you have time for a side hustle” my side hustle is relaxing so that my body and brain can heal from by this nose-to-the-grindstone bullshit. I refuse to feel guilty for being a human with the need to relax sometimes. my side hustle is no.

[miri-draws]

I've been grunklepilled.

[pumpkinhrat]

[temporalteardrop]

bass makes a dollar. i make a dime. that's why i think about lesbian sex on company time

[everydaylouie]

the far side (in 3D)

[echo-s-land]

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:

Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.

It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:

This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?

Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.

Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:

SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."

That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.

The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.

HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.

Uh oh!

Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.

You can guess where this is going.

So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.

Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.

[ghcstcd]

Sockeye salmon, if he was just a little buddy

[estrellami-1]

Breathe

Also I’m trying my hand at a permanent taglist… let me know if y’all want to be added!

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Eddie had gone on before him. It wasn’t fair to keep him waiting, but, well… Steve had tried to warn him about smoking.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve’s eyes drop closed as he thinks over his life. It was good. Once Vecna was gone, once the hospital scare was over and done with, it was good.

Exhale.

Inhale.

They’d all grown up, separately but together. Robin and Nancy, surprisingly enough, had been the first to leave. Then one by one, the rest of the Part followed in different directions.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Robin and Nancy had moved to San Diego. Dustin and Suzie settled in Maine, of all places. Lucas and Max picked Florida. Will and Mike were closest in Indy. El and Erica—with whatever they had going on—were in Oklahoma, trying to find normalcy.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve and Eddie had bought an RV and traveled the country. Visited the kids. They were there for Dustin and Susie’s first kid (and second, and third). They were there when Nancy got her first journalist award. When Mike and Will tied the knot, even if it wasn’t exactly legal yet. When El and Erica needed some familiar faces. When Lucas and Max had gotten hitched. They’d even driven them to the airport, seen them off for their Colorado honeymoon.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Never any kids of their own, Steve reflects. Except in all the ways they did. Everyone had been there for Eddie. Crowded into the hospital room, annoying the fuck out of the hospital staff and uncaring, because that was their Eddie, their brother, their uncle, their grandpop.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve had seen memories flash through Eddie’s eyes, like they’re doing in Steve’s mind right now. Their first kiss, sun-drenched and summer-sweet, tentative and so, so hopeful.

Exhale.

Inhale.

When they bought the RV and visited everyone for the first time, rolled up in front of their houses and laid on the horn until someone had gotten annoyed enough to peep out the windows, only to run outside when they realized who it was.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Will and Mike first, since they were closest. Eddie and Steve had taken them out to a gay bar—a nicer one than they’d ever been to at the boys’ age—and had fun for a night. They’d stayed for a few days before making the trek up to Maine to see Dustin and Suzie. Skiing and dinner and loud laughs long into the night.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Then they’d gone to see Max and Lucas in Florida, getting horribly burned the first day and regretting it for the next few days. Max and Lucas had both made fun of them. Then a rather uncomfortable drive to Oklahoma to see the girls. El, who had been learning to cook, made them all dinner. They were introduced to May and Alex, two kids who had needed help. Eddie had put his arm around Steve’s shoulders like he knew Steve had been holding back tears.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Then off to San Diego to see Robin and Nancy. Robin had yelled and barreled out the door. Steve had done much the same thing after parking the RV, and the hug lasted long enough that Nancy had helped Eddie bring their things inside and were well on their way through the first of many iced teas. They’d stayed there the longest, even toyed with the idea of making home base somewhere near.

Exhale.

Inhale.

But Steve knew Eddie, knew he’d want to be near Wayne, at least while he could be. So they returned, set up camp in a town about the same size as Hawkins, about an hour away. Settled in. Hired someone to cut the grass. Bought groceries. On their third day there, kids had come around, intrigued by the new RV, drawn close by the sound of Eddie’s guitar. Kept close by Steve’s snacks.

Exhale.

Inhale.

They’d pseudo-adopted a few kids from that town. The kids had decent parents, who would come over from time to time and joke about Steve and Eddie stealing their kids. The nights would end in beer and laughter and more guitar, softer than the metal Steve had fallen in love with, but no less beautiful.

Exhale.

Inhale.

They grew up together. They grew old together. What goes around comes around, because a few short years ago Eddie had been in this very same hospital, right back in Hawkins. The familiarity of it all had given Steve double vision at times. He’d been there when Eddie passed. Felt him squeeze Steve’s hand for the last time.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve hadn’t cried until he’d gotten back to the RV. After all the condolences, the paperwork, the well-meaning bouquets and cards. The family they’d made, who were just as heartbroken as he was.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve had driven off, secluded himself for a few months, as he learned how to breathe without Eddie around. He didn’t make any more trips, but he did return to the town they’d made their own. He saw their youngest kids, their parents. More condolences. More faked smiles.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Now, he gives the ceiling a genuine smile. He’d kept Eddie waiting for too long. He takes his last breath and steps into the rest of forever, Eddie by his side.

Permanent Taglist:

@justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround (you didn’t ask but I figured you’d be ok w it… but if not lmk, no hard feelings!)

[goatsorcery]

im so done with seeing articles about kids and screen time that doesnt mention parent behaviors even once. “kids are always on their phones” so are the parents! which the kids look to for how they should behave! ipad babies didn’t chose to only play on their ipads, thats what their parents gave them!

an anecdotal example: when i was a kid, all my parents would do in their minimal free time was watch tv and then they would be surprised when in my sister and i’s minimal free time we would also only watch tv/play video games. they scolded us for not reading books, but they never read books. they scolded us for not going outside but they never went outside.

“kids are always on their damn phones” my mom is in her 60s and opens up candy crush anytime she’s sitting — it isnt just the kids

[astronomical-bagel]

[frenchublog]

[junglejim4322]

The thing that is interesting is if you have any semblance of personality you will definitely encounter people who viscerally hate you and obsess over you for years and you will not even remember their name