#eddie got shot

[braincelllostandfound]

Eddie: *literally bleeding to death*

Eddie: Buck, are you hurt? Are you alright? Do you need something?

Buck: Dude, you really need to sort out your priorities 

[maxanor]

#bobby praying for buck + eddie praying for bobby

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love part 4

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and presses the heels of his palm into his eyes.

Im such a piece of shit. God, how could I just do that.

He’s pissed at Steve for not saying something sooner, for waiting until Eddie had something good in his grasp. But he’s angry with himself too.

How stupid is he, really? Did he really not notice until it all came face to face?

He has Adiel’s number memorized, but he knows which of Steve’s beauty marks form constellations.

Mostly, hes confused. His feelings are a jumbled mess and he’s never been good at sorting them out. Naturally, he turns to music. Dio has serenaded him these past few days. Wayne has steered clear of his shit show.

How do you feel right now?

What do you see?

Where would you be right now?

Hey angel what about me?

Jesus fucking fuck. He attempts to run his hand through his hair only it doesn’t get too far, rings snagged in his tangled hair. He can feel the oil built up on the strands and knows it’s time to get his ass out of bed. He doesn’t.

“Angel, Angel, angel. You were my angel. Just not anymore.” He mutters to himself long after the track has finished and another song plays. He’s learning to let go still, even after he’s ended it.

You know what really makes him feel like a dickhead? That Adiel got hurt because of him. He didn’t deserve to get caught in Eddie’s bullshit.

Guilt eats him alive.

His conscious hurts and his heart trembles, tumbled in his chest, but he doesn’t feel the heartbreak the way he should. That world-on-fire and breath burning feeling. He can’t find it.

Like a masochist he wants for it, desires it, deserves it like sinner.

Those last few weeks were enough for his feelings to settle, for his heart to make a decision with or without his input. He tried—god fuck I tried—to feel that skipped-beat flutter when Adiel smiled his way. Could almost convince himself he could. That Adiel’s interlocked hand in his still felt an extension of himself instead of something foreign.

It used to feel like I belonged at his side. Why did it have to stop?

He’s wronged a friend who trusted him to keep his heart safe. A friend who had already been through so much. And Eddie added to that lifetime of hurt because he couldn’t figure it out himself.

Because he was too stupid to see and too stupid to know.

He thinks of Steve’s lips, like he has now for days. Weeks. His heart twists, rung out. That skipped-beat flutter that betrays him.

Fuck. Fuck, man.

He has to stop yanking at his hair like he can train himself out of feeling it.

Do your demons, do they ever let you go?

When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside

Is it someone that you know?

You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time

We're a lie, you and I.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells no one because he needs to say it until he can forgive himself a little. Until he can make himself believe that Adiel will forgive him, in time.

“I’m so sorry,” this time says it to himself, covers his face with his hands and finally cries.

Against his fucking will he cries, can’t hold onto it anymore. Ugly retching sobs that can only come from mourning an almost.

Finally, after days of like solitude, Wayne creeps in un-intrusive as a shadow. His hand on his shoulder may be the only thing that keeps Eddie from disappearing.

“I could’ve loved him, Wayne. I could’ve—I did. I think I fucking loved him and I didn’t know until—until I didn’t anymore. And then—and then I just couldn’t again.”

I wish he got to know that. That even for a short time, I had loved him.

Wayne, ever a man of few words, sits with him and lets him have his silence.

———

It’s a little over a month after that that Steve pays him a visit.

He’s smart enough to show up when Wayne isn’t home, looking sheepish as he shuffles on his front step. At least he has the gall to look him in the eyes.

All this is because of you, he thinks. His dark under eyes, his pallid skin. The rage in his blood. The almost that he had.

“Why are you here?” He looks taken aback, almost shrinks in on himself.

“I… the boys said that you, well.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, his hair longer than when Eddie last saw it. It slips through Steve’s fingers. “You never came by again and I wanted to see you. To talk? Can we talk? Can’t… can’t I come in?”

Having Steve in his home, in his space, is dangerous.

Those eyes are deep, soften by tired shadows.

“No,” his swallow is audible and steels himself, “Why should I want you in my home, Steve?”

Steve stands there lips parted and hands clenches at the bottom of his sweatshirt, eyes shined over. Eddie takes the chance to step forward. Everything inside him is too much.

“Don’t you understand what you did? I was happy. And you, fuck, you ruined it! Steve! You!” He out of the door way now and Steve steps back, back, back.

Steve’s face is red in shame. Eddie’s in anger. His pointed finger jabbed at his chest, accusing.

“You couldn’t just let me be happy? Why? Why did you kiss me, Steve? Why then? Was it because you couldn’t stand that I finally had someone? Say something!”

Steves eyes overflow, “Yes! I could stand it because I love you, asshole! I thought, I don’t know—I thought you loved me, too. Okay? Me. We both felt it—tell me you felt it too, Eddie? It wasn’t just me, right?

“You were everywhere and everything. You’d smile at me and it was the sun. So close, always right there and it was like we were—we were teetering on the edge of something amazing. And I was so happy, Eddie. So happy that day ‘cuz I thought, it was just us, right? Me and you. Just us. Together.

“But then you saw him and your weren’t even listening to me. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You only had eyes for him. You left me there and I didn’t know what to do with myself ‘cuz suddenly all you’d talk about was him. Every day and every minute we were together. After thinking, after thinking you loved me too.

That I had you.

So yes! Okay? I kissed you because I was selfish and I needed to know. I needed to know if any of it was real. If there really was nothing there.”

Steve’s breathing hard by the end of, words a wavering wet string of rawn vulnerable pulled out of his chest. He’s looking at the floor, hair covering his eyes, and shoulders trembling as he hiccups.

Then, everything feels still. Calm inside. For the first time in ages, Eddie feels like he can take a deep breath and not fall apart. He closes his eyes for a second and just breathes. The fight escapes him with the last breath.

“You ruined me, Steve. You ruined me in a way that even I didn’t understand. I didn’t know, not until that night, about how you felt. And I’m sorry if it was my fault, if I did and said things to make you feel that way, okay? But I didn’t… I didn’t feel that way about you. Not then. Not when you kissed me.”

“And now? Eddie? Do you… could you feel that way for me, now?”

“If it weren’t for you,” he begins, “Adiel and I… we could’ve had something great. But then you—and I— I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered so much on why you kissed me that night, replaying every moment together, to see what you saw. And ended up feeling… feeling what you felt.”

He takes the chance to move forward the last bit of space to reach to him, have him look him in the eyes. Both of them mirror images of despair.

“You ruined me, Stevie. Everything was different. It wasn’t perfect anymore, I couldn’t make it perfect again. And I couldn’t be who I had been with Adiel knowing that I couldn’t find in me what we had before. That maybe, this has the chance of being something amazing, too.

I stopped seeing you everyday, so I saw you in everything. I stopped speaking to you, and you became the voice inside my head. It was maddening.”

Eddie laughs and wipes away the tears from Steve’s eyes, they fall faster when he smiles a weak and small but real thing.

“Adiel and I, we fit together; we were good together. But despite that, I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t know why, I think I still don’t, but… I don’t need to know. I just need feel it, Stevie. And I feel it. I want this. Me and you. You have throughly ruined me, for anybody else.”

This time the kiss is different. It’s shared elation, wet and salty on the tongue, and clumsy as they try to fit into each other. Disappear in one another.

“Are you still mad?”

Those brown eyes don’t resemble gems of green, but they’re filled with incredible warmth and Eddie sees home in them,

Sees a life with them,

It’s own kind of precious.

And he laughs.

“So much, Stevie. I’m mad and heartbroken and falling jn love and happy and so so sure of us. I think, I think I still need some time, I’m really fucked—no, no, shouldn’t cry anymore,” he says as Steve’s face scrunches and it’s so unbelievably cute if he wasn’t blaming himself for it all.

“I just want to make sure I do this right this time. And if I, if I invite you in… I won’t be able to.”

Steve rests his forehead against his, there is heat between them, “But I have you, right?”

“Yeah, took me a while to figure it out but… yeah. Yes. You have me, Steve. God, and I have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to come over and pick me up at 6 in the evening so we can eat shitty pancakes at the diner.

And then we’ll figure this out together.”

Part 3 <💛 End, thank you for reading and for all the feedback!

[corrodedcoughin]

eddie going in to scoops ahoy dressed as a pirate and saying he’s here to ‘plunder scoops’ treasure chest of ice cream yarhar’ only he gets to the counter and it’s Steve serving, not Robin. He was expecting Robin. What comes out of his mouth is ‘I’m here for your pleasure chest’. Cue eddie turning on his heel, walking out of scoops and sitting himself down in the fountain of the food court, hugging his knees while the corroded coffin boys throw pennies at him.

[fruitydiaz]

buck and eddie | white teeth

[daniclaytcn]

♡ eddie diaz + underrated scenes 14/? ♡ → 4.13: 'suspicion'

bonus:

[strangersatellites]

back on my Witch!Eddie bullshit

AU where Eddie is a witch and uses his magic to minorly inconvenience Steve. problem is, Steve is so used to it that he just kind of… deals with it and carries on.

Anyway, one day Dustin comes over to ask Steve for his potato soup recipe and he walks in the kitchen to steve just levitating over the stove and starts freaking the fuck out (as one does post-vecnapocalypse).

Steve startles and rushes to placate him with a,

“Woah, woah! Hey- hey! Dustin! I’m fine!”

When Dustin finally calms down enough to question why he’s floating over a pot of spaghetti he just says,

“Oh! I wouldn’t let Eddie try the sauce before dinner and he got mad at me and put me in air jail.”

[batcavescolony]

911: we're mostly fine? Need some therapy, we fight but it's ok, we're family!

911 lone Star: This show started with all but one firefighter dying and people haven't stopped dying since. It's only pain. everyone gets their houses blown up! But we're also a family!

[fuctacles]

sports au!!!!!

Part 2

The booth was stuffy and smelled like it’s been forgotten for a decade. But the equipment was new and the glass pane was cleaned up, giving Eddie a clear view of the court.

“Is this a good moment to say I don’t know the rules?”

The coach, and his PE professor, looks one step away from murder.

“Just remember our team is wearing green.”

“Yes sir!”

The man squints at him with clear distrust so Eddie gives him his widest, purest smile.

“Good thing nobody’s listening to the campus radio.”

The joke’s on him; Eddie has garnered a lot of listeners over the past months. Listeners that he might lose after hosting a live sports event. 

“Don’t be too weird. I might send you someone to help with the rules so you don’t completely ruin it.” He pats Eddie on the shoulder, his palm so heavy it feels like he’s trying to pin him into the chair, before disappearing behind the door in the back. Seconds later he’s visible walking down the steps to his team.

Eddie looks at his watch. It’s going to be the longest four hours in his academic history. 

He turns to the concsole, frowns at the unfamiliar dials and switches and focuses on the ones he knows. Tunes everything to his best ability, takes a breath, and clears his throat before starting the broadcast.

“Hello, students of Indiana University! I know it’s a Friday night and you were hoping for some nice tunes to party to, but prepare your pillows for a nap instead because you’ll be listening to a football match. No, wait, basketball. I’m pretty sure. 

Anyway, dunno why you’d listen to a match instead of going to see it, but ya boy needs to pass PE this term so here we are. 

And here comes our team! The green ones. It’s greens against blues tonight, folks.”

“Tigers versus Roaches, actually.”

Eddie turns around and sees a tall boy enter his studio.

“First of all, who the fuck names their team Roaches. Second, we have an intruder in the studio.”

The boy extends his hand unfazed.

“I’m Lucas, your interpreter. Since I’m benching for the first half anyway.”

“Booo, I was just going to make up rules as I go. Now you’re gonna make it boring.”

But he shakes his hand anyway and lets Lucas sit on the chair next to him.

“Careful, I’m a dedicated listener. My friends too, you’d probably lose your whole audience.” He smirks. Eddie scoffs.

“I’ll let you know, tiger cub, that many people listen to Munson’s Midnight Metal Madness.”

“I meant the DnD show.”

Eddie looks at the boy, his neat haircut and team jersey.

“Really?”

“Yes, and I’d love to talk more about it later, but now let’s introduce my teammates.”

Eddie hands him the microphone to spit out names he’s never heard before and whatever their bearers' positions were. He hopes the coach doesn’t mind it. All Eddie could do was like, comment on their appearance. Which…

“Where did you get that one from? America’s poster boy catalog?”

He watches Lucas’s face twitch with the effort not to laugh.

“That’s Jason Carver. He’s vice-captain now and will take over the team once Steve graduates later this year.”

“Which one’s that?”

“He usually comes out last.”

Eddie asks about the important stuff - the team's average height and where Andy got his haircut. He looks over the group of young men appraisingly.

“You know what, if I knew y’all play in these funky white socks and guns out I might have gotten into sports commentary earlier.”

Lucas chuckles, but Eddie's on a roll. 

“Especially with such a great co-host, Lucas Sinclair! He’s not on the court yet but he’s being an invaluable source of lore in the studio. Don’t think I’d forget about you, man.” He nudges the younger student. “What’s your specialty on the team?”

“Well…” Lucas scratches his cheek sheepishly. “I’m probably the fastest and my throws are pretty good,” he admits. “Oh, that’s Steve!”

Eddie looks to the right, where a dude with Harrington on his jersey walks in, smiling wide to friends and families watching. 

“Damn, that’s some magnificent hair,” Eddie whistles.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what he’s known for. This hairdo lasts through the whole game, dunno how he does it.”

“He’s gotta give me some tips, because I look like a wet rat by the end of the day. And I don’t even do sports.”

“I’m pretty sure you look like a wet rat no matter the time of day.”

The jab was true but even if it wasn’t, Eddie had a more important thing to focus on right now. 

“Does your captain have a tattoo?” he asks, squinting through the window. He was pretty sure it was ink that was peeking from the bottom of Steve Harrington’s shorts, but it was so out of place on a college athlete, he needed a triple take and the ‘ask the audience’ lifeline to make sure.

“Yep. The coach says it makes him look like a criminal,” he snorts, showing what he thinks about it. “Steve said he regrets not getting it somewhere more visible so more people could see tattoos are not for criminals and rockstars only.”

“Your captain is a smart guy,” Eddie grins, almost sighing into it, to his utter horror. Just a glimpse of a hot guy from afar, a peek of a tattoo, and hearing of his liberal views was apparently enough to make his heart beat faster.

“The best I ever knew,” Lucas admits and it sounds like a Story, capital “s” and all. His next words confirm that. “Our friend group is planning matching tattoos and we are still talking him out of getting it above the neckline.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. 

“Sounds like a savage. I gotta meet your captain sometime soon.”

It’s at this point they notice the coach gesturing at them angrily and they get back to commenting on the game that’s about to start.

“Okay, so explain to me which laundry basket is ours…”

“Okay okay okay. So number four is a tank, yeah? He blocks the other players. Six is a rogue, who slips between the cracks. And number one, your captain, is a warrior who goes for the attack.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s like LARPing for normies,” Eddie realizes in awe and Lucas laughs so unexpectedly he starts to cough. 

“Sinclair! You’re in!”

They both jump at the sudden appearance of the coach. Lucas springs up from his seat.

“Yes sir!”

“It was a pleasure to host with you.” Eddie smiles at his new friend.

“You too. Catch you after the game?”

“Sure.” He smiles brightly, his head already swimming with ideas of how to fuck over Lucas’ future DnD character. Because playing together was inevitable, the dice were thrown, and the plot was in motion. 

Lucas passes by the coach who now turns his attention to Eddie.

“You’re doing good, don’t ruin it.” He looks in pain admitting that. “I might send someone else to help you out.”

“Thanks, coach.” Though Eddie doubts he’d be vibing so well with anyone else on the team.

Just five minutes later though, he’s proven wrong.

“Heard you’ve been curious about my tattoo?”

Eddie's so startled he knocks the microphone down and yanks out the cord in his haste to turn around. 

“Captain!” he yells like a dumbass, faced with the hair and boyishness of no one else but Steve Harrington. 

“Radio-man!” Steve yells back with a wide and teasing smile. “I’ve heard so much about you, man, you have no idea.” He steps closer. “My kids love your show.”

“Your kids?”

“My, uh, younger friends. I used to babysit them and it kinda stuck,” he admits with an awkward smile. Steve is nothing like the typical jock he’s come to expect and he’s everything Lucas advertised.

“That’s adorable, man.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he pouts. He honest to god pouts.

“Not laughing!” Eddie raises his hands placatingly. “There’s nothing bad with a family-tight friend group.”

“Damn straight.” Steve smiles and sits on the chair vacated by Lucas. He eyes the microphone lying prone on the desk. “Technical difficulties?”

Eddie rushes to fix his equipment.

“You could say so,” he murmurs, trying to busy himself with the tangled cord. But a hand stops him before he can plug it in.

“We’re off the air now, right?”

Eddie looks over the control lights on the console.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You have beautiful eyes.”

“What?”

When Eddie woke up today, he knew his day would be weird. No day spent in a sports facility could be normal or pleasant. It was confirmed when he made a new friend with a member of the team, who was a listener of his DnD podcast. But the team captain hitting on him? That’s not your regular weird, that’s a bad strain of weed kind of weird.

“Lucas sent me over claiming a guy my type might be hiding here.”

It takes everything from Eddie not to take a look around. Logically, he knows there’s no one else in the booth. But his brain refuses to connect the dots. He licks his lips and cringes at the wet noise his mouth makes.

“What’s your type?”

Steve tilts his head and hums like he’s in thought.

“Weird, smartass nerd, as it turns out. With big brown eyes and great hair.”

“Uh, thank you?”

Steve only smiles at him, soft before it turns teasing.

“Wanna see my tattoo up close?” he offers. 

“Gosh, yes,” he admits with zero shame, eyes flitting down to the man’s legs. Was he curious about what type of tattoo a gorgeous sport-type guy would get? Yes. Did he want to ogle some hairy thighs? Also yes. It’s a two-in-one kind of deal.

The coach waves at them angrily to get back on the air, but Steve promises to tell him everything about S.S. Robin after the game. And no, Robin is just his best friend, Eddie doesn’t need to worry about her.

“In fact, wanna be my date to the after-party later? The kids will freak out when they meet you.”

How could Eddie say no to his fans' worship?

And to Steve’s hopeful eyes and the slight squeeze he gave his hand.

“Mingling with jocks in my free time?” Eddie turns his palm up to squeeze back. “Sure, let’s make this day even weirder.”

[housewifebuck]

duality of man

[howdygravytrain]

*jingles pathetically across the courtyard*

holy shit y'all, this was the most extensive set of gposes i've done yet. this took almost an entire week from me getting a room at my fc's crib and transferring all my shit from my apartment to there so i could make the bedroom, gathering/crafting everything for said bedroom, the poses themselves, desperately trying to find a crime for aymeric's earring before i said fuck it and photoshopped it on LMAO, the editing, putting the screenshots into panels since tumblr only allows 30 images per upload and finally typing up the transcript, I AM FINISHED.

all because a friend wrote a snippet about "what if aymeric fantasia'd into a lalafell?" i have not known peace since then 😩 /pos

btw i plan to make an introductory post for gravy sometime, but noT FUCKING TONIGHT PLS IF I HAVE TO OPEN PHOTOSHOP ONE MORE TIME I'M GONNA HURL MYSELF INTO THE AETHERIAL SEA

got a doozy of a transcript, find it below the break!

TRANSCRIPT

Panel 1: [ONE PECULIAR DAY WHEN GRAVY ARRIVED BACK HOME IN ISHGARD…]

Panel 4: Gravy Train: Huh, that’s weird…Aymeric always greets me when I come back home. Maybe he got holed up at work again?

Panel 7: <He hasn’t been to work in two days…The hell is goin’ on?>

Panel 10: Gravy Train: Howdy, Eddie. Aymeric home?

Panel 11: Edrant: Ah, welcome home, Lady Gravy. M’lord is currently upstairs in his bedchambers. He specified to let none interrupt him since yestermorn.

Panel 12: Gravy Train: He ain’t want no one to bother him? Is he alright, is he sick??

Panel 13: Gravy Train: Ayms, ya doin’ alright, sugar bear?

Panel 14: <Hmm, no answer. Maybe he’s in the bathroom?>

Panel 16: Gravy Train: The hell, he ain’t in there either??

Panel 17: Gravy Train: Now just where could he’ve gone off to? Surely if it was an emergency he’d’ve let me know somethin’...

Panel 18: Gravy Train: Maybe Estinien’s gotten into some shit that Vrtra couldn’t get him out of and Aymeric went to help? Or Lucia needed him in Garlemald? Naw, Lucia’s got her shit together, Estinien’d be the one who’d fuck around.

Panel 19: Gravy Train: Aight, that bastard better have his linkpearl in or I swear to goD–

Panel 20: ???: Darling, is that you?

Panel 21: Gravy Train: Huh–who in the–?!

Panel 22: Gravy Train: Hollup–Ayms, is that you?

Panel 23: Aymeric: Aye, and I assume by your expression the potion worked?

Panel 25: Gravy Train: Oh my god, yer my size! Holy shit this is so cool!!

Panel 26: Gravy Train: Oh wait, ya got any clothing that’ll fit?

Aymeric: That I do. I may have taken the opportunity to, ahem, borrow some of your clothing and have outfits of similar proportions made for myself.

Gravy Train: Ohhh, I wanna see those fits!

Aymeric: Of course, if you could excuse me for just a moment…

Panel 28: Gravy Train: Ahhhhhh ya look amazin’, honey!

Panel 31: Aymeric: Um, darling, is something amiss–

Panel 33: Gravy Train: I can do this t’ya now, sugar.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

I wrote this a while ago but I fell back onto it while I was warming up on writing and decided to revise it and post it on ao3!

Ao3 link

Eddie skimmed the books on the shelf in front of him, there was no use in trying to find one he was interested in. He would forget about it somewhere in his room anyway and choose one of the Lord of the Rings books to read again. Instead, he lets himself wander through his thoughts, lost in some random DnD scenario he had made up that involved him fighting a group of dragons. Letting his body go on autopilot as his fingers gently brush the spines of every book in his reach mindlessly. He furrowed his eyebrows as he made a mental note to include this scenario in one of his campaigns later. He was sure the boys would enjoy it, especially Gareth, who had anger issues and loved releasing some of that energy onto a fictional dragon.

He should be in gym class, but he isn’t. The consequences of skipping were far better than those of actually showing up. The last time he went (over a month ago now) he ended up walking out with a chipped tooth and black eye. And he can’t forget about the bruised ego. That hurt worse than being hit in the face. Physical Pain he could handle, but his poor innocent ego could not handle the abuse.

Walking at the end of one aisle, he carefully turns and moves himself into the next. He prepares to loop through the next aisle but nearly jumps out of his skin when he almost falls over another person sitting down with their back pressed to the shelf.

A croak-like noise comes out of the back of his throat as he nearly tumbles face-first into the carpet. He stumbles forward a bit and catches his balance on the shelf to the left of him. His heart races as he secretly prays to everything holy that he didn’t somehow knock the entire shelf over. That would be his luck and land him in an infinite amount of after-school detention.

“Jesus H Christ.” He spits out, a hand pressed against his chest as he dramatically breathes heavier than normal purposely putting on a show for whoever nearly killed him. Turning around to face the culprit he jumps back again startled.

Sitting, pretty pathetically Eddie would say, was a beat-up Steve Harrington. Who looked like a horror movie had a crossover with reality. His eyes, or singular eye, were glossed over and wide as he started stuttering over his words.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip you up like that.” Steve visibly cringes at his words, as if he was also aware he seemed pathetic. If that's not the case, Eddie would assume Steve had been cringing at his words slurring together. That was the only logical answer as there was no way Steve Harrington was cringing at him.

“Eh- it’s alright. Not the first time a king has tried taking me out.” He grins, before faltering a bit as he remembers that the other wouldn’t understand that he was referencing DnD and not something gay. But for all, Eddie knew Steve probably correlated Dnd with weird faggots anyway.

He begins to walk away, wanting the awkward interaction to be over so that he can move on and cringe at the whole situation on a random night in the future. But he can’t help but be a bit nosy as his eyes glance down at the book in Steve’s lap. It probably had been open at one point, but it was now closed and Eddie is secretly thankful he can read upside down.

“Head injuries huh?” He points out. “Didn’t take you for a reader King Steve.” He drags the other’s name out a bit longer than he has to as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocks a hip out. He has an unreadable smile, his teeth showing in a weak attempt at being somewhat civil with the other, but he still wanted to have his guard up just in case.

He didn’t personally enjoy talking with asshole jocks, but what he did like was to know some things. He liked having some lore for the people around him for backup reasons aka blackmail.

“I’m not.” Steve snorts as he lifts the book. “Just trying to do some research, I don’t know if you have eyes but my face is pretty smashed in right now.” He retorts back with a little bit of sass. Eddie notes how his words slur like he is drunk. Eddie could spot a drunk anywhere and Steve Harrington seemed a hundred percent sober and fully aware of his surroundings. (Besides the possibility of tripping someone up by sitting on the corner of a damn shelf but that is beside the point)

Furrowing his eyebrows, just a bit concerned he doesn’t let up the banter. He purposely forces his eyelids open with one hand and jokingly presses a fingertip against his eye before pulling back. Blinking the tears out of his slightly agitated right eye he brings two thumbs up and comments, “We are in the clear I, Eddie Munson, let the record show, have eyeballs.” He grins dramatically.

“Want a gold star for that poncho.” Steve snorts not wasting a second to retort in response to the other as he shakes his head amused. His body tenses up a bit as he goes pale for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut with shaky breaths as his fists tighten around the book he is holding.

“Yes I do in fact want a gold star-” Eddie mumbles out gently, face scrunching up a bit more worried now as he moves his crossed arms off his chest and takes a few steps closer to the other.

“Hey Harrington, you alright? You don’t seem like your typical charming self.” He comments as he hesitates for a moment before he crouches down. He makes sure to leave a few inches between the two of them, far enough to not be to close but close enough to catch the other if he slumped over.

Steve gives a weak nod of his head before he adjusts himself. “Yeah- just moved my head too much. Happens sometimes you know?” He chuckles gently. Eddie did not know what he meant, didn't know how to respond, and when he didn't know how to react he normally shot off an awkward quip or two.

“Oh thank god, you were looking a little green. I Was worried you were about to hulk out on me buddy.” Eddie jokes a little, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He then lifts his hand and runs one of his rings against the bottom of his lip (a nervous tic of his) before glancing back down at the book.

“Find anything good in there, or are you just holding it for show?” Eddie asks gently, trying to come off a bit more teasing rather than concerned. The longer he stayed around this guy the more he was convinced that he needed to get the book read ASAP.

Steve snorts again, sounding a bit stressed as he nearly shakes his head no again but stops himself before making that mistake again. “No, couldn’t even make it through the first page without wanting to throw up.” He groans as he quickly adds. “Not because I don’t want to read it, it’s just the words won’t sit still and it hurts my eyes which then hurts my head.” He groans as he opens his eyes back up fully and looks down at the book with a little huff. Where Eddie was crouched he could see the other boy's eyes watering.

“Could always get a nerd to do your homework for you,” Eddie jokes, slightly hinting towards Wheeler. “Heard that girlfriend of yours had a decent brain on her, she seems like the type to understand that you’ll need help.” He tilts his head to the side as he looks at the other.

Steve makes a noise that Eddie can’t even place, it sounds like the mixture of a laugh and a snort combined. “Can’t, I’m pretty sure she cheated on me with Byers and wants nothing to do with me now. And I don’t want to feel any more stupid around her.” He mumbles the last sentence out.

Eddie looks a bit surprised, he hadn’t taken Mrs Priss to be a cheater. He furrows his eyebrows again in thought. “If you give me a twenty I’ll read that book for you and try answering any questions you have.” He spits it out before he can fully think about it. He was an impulsive person who didn't like seeing people struggle what could he say?

But Eddie didn’t want to seem completely like a sweetheart to the other as he still had doubts about the other. Plus he had to keep up the image he had going on or people wouldn’t take him seriously during deals around here. And he didn’t want to ruin said image by helping Steve Harrington of all people.

Steve squints his good eye at Eddie suspiciously, “I’ll pay you a hundred if you don’t mention this to anybody else.” Good, at least Eddie wasn't the only skeptic here.

Even though he was very skeptical Eddie still felt a little shitty for doing this but an image had to be kept and money had to be made somehow.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Harrington.” His grin isn’t fully authentic as he takes the book from the other before he does a playful salute and stands up fully. he hesitates for a moment longer tempted to ask the other if he needs help from the nurse but Eddie decides he is already giving enough charity as is and begins back on his path of slaying dragons and saving damsels in distress.

[moonyslesbian]

eddie in the ambulance next to a dying shannon telling her to "be silent" vs eddie shouting "talk to me! talk to me!" to buck when he was struck by lightning... hmmmm..... but i'm sure this means nothing...

[twocutlines]

fall out boy – twin skeletons / 9-1-1

[ghosttotheparty]

platonic soulmates eddie and nancy getting high and steve being Responsible; ty for the help @spectrum-spectre and @username-i-guess <3

---

The door swings open a few seconds after Steve knocks hard. (Probably a little too hard given the time of night, but someone down the road from Eddie’s trailer is playing music that Steve would be able to sing along to if he knew the words, so he didn’t worry about it.)

Nancy’s hair is frizzy, and her cheeks are flushed, her eyes glassy and red. A smile is teasing at her lips. Steve’s stomach twists as he looks at her. She’s wearing a Slayer t-shirt, wrinkled and too big for her, falling to her knees and hiding whether or not she’s wearing shorts underneath.

“What the hell’s going on?” Steve asks sharply. It’s cold out, and it’s late, and the last thing he was expecting while staring at the ceiling was to hear Nancy’s voice over the phone, sluggishly telling him to come over to Eddie’s as soon as possible. (And if Nancy is telling him something so pressing, of course he’s going to listen.) But as she grins up at him, flushed and sleepy-looking, he wonders why the fuck she’d invite him over for this. Which is something he really never would have seen coming. Nancy and Eddie.

“We’re high,” she says, and he blinks.

“You’re…”

“He’s higher than me,” she says, and Steve’s never heard her voice like this, mumbly and slow and almost childish. Her lashes flutter as she blinks, gesturing with a lazy hand. “But ‘m also high. But you’re not.”

Confusion tangles with frustration in Steve’s chest, and she can see it on his face as he looks her up and down again, his eyes skimming deftly over her bare legs and Eddie’s fucking t-shirt and her tangled, frizzy hair.

“We didn’t fuck, Steve,” she says too loudly, looking at him like he’s being ridiculous, and he splutters out, “You can’t— You can’t blame me for thinking that!”

“Oh my god,” she says, exasperated, and he huffs.

“Why am I here? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Look,” she says, looking at the ground, holding a hand up. “I made brownies. We had one each, and then we shared two blunts, and then Eddie got hungry and forgot there’s pot in the brownies. And now he’s too high.”

“You made… pot brownies,” he says slowly, his mind reeling. Her expression changes, shifting into a terrifying combination of annoyance and frustration.

“Focus, Steve,” she says loudly. “He’s too high. I’m too high to help him.”

“Why’d you call me?”

“You’re, like— the mom!” she says, tossing a hand in his direction, gesturing aimlessly.

“Wha— Why?”

“You were a lifeguard.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“What, would rather I call Mike?” she asks, throwing a hand again.

“Why are you shit-talking your little brother?”

“Everyone else does.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t, he’s your brother.”

“Steve,” she almost shouts. “You’re not focussing.”

“Oh my god,” he says, exasperated, trying to push past her. “Where is he?”

“Sofa,” she says, pushing the door open further and moving aside so he can come in. “I can’t move him, he’s too heavy.”

Steve steps inside. The smell of weed hits him hard, and he holds back another Oh my god.

Eddie is laying on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling blankly, his eyes glazed over and unblinking. One of his arms is up against the back of the sofa and the other is hanging down, his fingertips brushing the ground.

“Eds,” Steve says, crouching by the sofa and nudging his shoulder. “You in there?”

Eddie stares at the ceiling, silent for a moment before, “…Steve?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“…Where are you?” Eddie asks lightly, his eyes searching the ceiling like he’s going to find Steve on it.

“Turn your head,” Steve says, begrudgingly amused as Eddie turns his head slowly to face the back of the sofa. “Other way, Eddie.”

Eddie’s bloodshot eyes widen when they find Steve, and Steve suppresses a smile as Eddie breathes, “Wow.”

“How you feel?” Steve asks softly.

“Goo-o-o-od,” Eddie slurs, grinning deliriously. “Nancy’s a baker.”

“Is she,” Steve says dryly.

“Mm. Nancy baker. Good ass baker. I’m a baker. I’m baked. Steve, I’m baked.” He giggles, his whole face lighting up, eyes squeezing shut as his cheeks squish up, the lines in his skin deepening beautifully.

Nancy is giggling behind Steve, and without turning to look at her, he calls, “Nancy, don’t you touch those brownies.”

There’s a moment of silence, except for Eddie’s giggling, and then she huffs and there’s a clatter of a knife on the counter.

“Mom,” she calls back, and he rolls his eyes.

“Steve,” Eddie stage-whispers. “Do you wanna bake?”

Steve blinks at him.

“No, Eddie,” he says calmly. “No, I don’t.”

“But it’s so fun-n-n…”

“I know, Eds, but someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“‘S nice of you, Stevie.”

“Eddie!” Nancy calls from the kitchen, and Eddie beams at the sound of her voice, his eyes closing as he lifts his chin and says her name back. “Steve thought we fucked.”

“Nancy,” Steve snaps, looking at her with wide eyes as Eddie gasps dramatically.

“I would never,” Eddie says loudly. “Nancy Baker is a beautiful woman, but she is not my type, ‘m afraid.”

“Nancy Baker,” Steve repeats under his breath, turning back to Eddie as Nancy laughs in a way Steve’s never heard her laugh, open and loud and childish.

“Why?” Nancy says, her voice teasing. “Why am I not your type, Eds?”

“You be quiet,” he says to the ceiling, closing his eyes, his face red.

“Tell him!”

“No.”

“You can tell him!”

“I’m not gonna,” Eddie sings loudly.

Steve huffs.

“Nance, leave him alone,” he says. “Eddie, you don’t have to tell me anything.”

“Eddie,” Nancy sings back, ignoring Steve. “Tell him!”

“I am not telling Steve Harrington I’m gay, Nancy.”

Steve’s breath catches in his throat, and Nancy claps a hand over her mouth.

“You said it,” she says gleefully after a moment as Steve stares at Eddie, his stomach fluttering, because Eddie’s gay. Because he didn’t want to tell Steve.

“I didn’t tell Steve, I told you.”

“Steve is in the room, you dumbass.”

A few seconds pass before Eddie’s eyes widen at the ceiling, and his face flushes darker, and he looks at Steve, his eyes shining with a fear that Steve fucking hates.

“It’s okay,” Steve says quickly even though he’s still reeling. “It’s cool, Eddie, I don’t— I don’t have a problem with it.”

Eddie blinks at him.

“It’s okay,” Steve says again, nodding. “‘S fine.”

“I told you,” Nancy says from the kitchen.

Eddie rolls onto his side, hiding his face with his hair, groaning, and Steve takes a moment, lowering his head to the sofa cushion and exhaling shakily. He can feel Nancy watching him, but he can’t even bring himself to care.

“Okay,” he says after taking another deep breath. “Bedtime, Eds, come on.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Come on, Wayne’s gonna be here in a few hours,” Steve says. “He doesn’t wanna sleep in your bed.”

“…You know Wayne’s schedule?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. “Of course.”

Eddie is quiet, still hiding from Steve.

“Eddie, get up."

“Can’t move,” Eddie mumbles into the sofa.

Steve sighs, rubbing his cheek as Nancy snickers.

“Come on,” he says, standing and wincing as his knees pop, tugging at Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie just groans loudly, and Steve sighs again. “I’m gonna help you, Eds, c’mere.”

He leans down and picks up Eddie’s arm, pulling him up so he’s standing, and he’s heavy on Steve as Steve wraps an arm around his waist. He’s soft.

Steve stumbles down the hall with Eddie, whose head falls forward as he groans, his hair hiding his face, and Steve calls to Nancy to not touch the brownies. He smiles when he hears her blow a raspberry at him.

“Oh no,” Eddie says when they sway together, and Steve stops before the doorway of his bedroom.

“You feel sick?”

Eddie stares wide-eyed at the floor, unblinking, unmoving.

“Eds?”

Eddie hums quietly, standing still before his head turns in Steve’s direction slowly, his eyes following behind after a moment.

“You gonna be sick?” Steve asks when he doesn’t say anything.

“…No.”

“You okay?”

Eddie exhales, his glassy eyes skimming over Steve’s face.

“Yeah,” he breathes.

“Bed,” Steve says. “Come on.”

“‘M coming…” Eddie mumbles, and then he giggles. “Coming.”

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, his cheeks flushing.

He gets Eddie into his room and into bed, carefully lowering him so he doesn’t flop, and Eddie writhes, pushing his face into his pillow. The room is dark, lit up by the hall, and Steve flicks on a lamp.

“Where’s Nancy?” Eddie says, his voice muffled by his pillow. “Nancy. ‘S a pretty name. Nancy Wheeler Baker. Nancy. N’ncy…”

Steve gets up to call Nancy’s name down the hall, and she appears after a moment, after flicking off the lights in the living room.

She climbs onto the bed next to Eddie as Steve watches. Eddie wraps an arm around Nancy’s waist, hugging her and grinning as she looks down at him, poking his cheek.

“Edward…”

“Nancelot,” he slurs, and Steve scoffs, raising an eyebrow. “Pretty lady.”

“You are so high,” she says, emphasising every word with a poke to the tip of Eddie’s nose.

“You make good brownies,” he mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut as she keeps poking his nose. “Chef Nancelot.”

“It was a box mix,” Nancy giggles, leaning over his head as he snorts.

“But I could taste your lo-o-o-ove…”

She snorts, snickering and running her hand over his face.

“Are you guys set?” Steve asks, still watching from where he’s leaning against the doorframe. “Am I free?”

“Don’t go,” Nancy says, whining, reaching out and making grabby hands at him as Eddie groans. “Sleepover.”

He stares for a moment, hesitating, and then Eddie says his name, dragging it out dramatically, desperately.

“Stevie-e-e-e…”

Steve sighs, glancing at the dark window, and he gives in, kicking his shoes off as Nancy cheers, clapping happily. He climbs onto Eddie’s bed on his other side.

They’re all too close, Eddie laying partially on top of Nancy’s legs, and Steve leans against the wall next to Nancy, their shoulders almost touching.

Eddie rolls over, against Steve’s legs, and Steve looks at him. His eyes are closed, his lips curved into a happy smile, and Steve can’t help but reach down to the top of his head that’s at Steve’s waist. His hair is messy, tangled, and Steve pushes his fingers into it. Eddie hums.

“Didn’t know you guys were so close,” he says softly to Nancy.

“‘S my best friend,” she says lightly. “You know… your whole thing with Robin?”

“Platonic with a capital P,” Steve says softly.

“Mhmm. ‘S Eddie and me.”

“Soulmates?” Steve says softly. Nancy nods, smiling. “Never would’ve thought.”

She giggles quietly, scrunching her nose.

“Valedictorian and super-super senior.”

“Mhmm.”

“Eddie Munson,” she sings softly, reaching to play with the end of one of Eddie’s curls. Eddie is still smiling, head tilted up into Steve’s hand, and Steve can’t tell if he’s asleep or not.

“Eddie Munson,” Steve repeats like he’s agreeing.

“Never would’ve thought,” Nancy says quietly, almost pointedly, giving Steve a look.

“Thought what?”

Her gaze lowers to his hand in Eddie’s hair, eyebrows raised, and she reaches out to poke the back of it. (Nancy pokes a lot when she’s high, apparently.)

“I’m just…” Steve trails off, unable to find an excuse, and his cheeks flush.

“‘S cool,” she says lightly.

They’re quiet.

Steve listens to Eddie breathe, and as he scratches at his scalp gently, he thinks he doesn’t mind that Nancy called him as much as he did when he arrived.

“Steve,” Nancy says quietly after a while, after shifting and slumping against the wall. She’s resting her arm across Eddie’s chest.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers.

“…You’re too hard on yourself, you know that?”

He blinks, his eyes looking across the room at the mess of posters that are covering Eddie’s wall.

“Oh,” he says.

“You, like…” She sighs heavily. “You’re not… the same. But you keep all that guilt inside you. And you… act like you’re this whole new person, this… this nice guy. But you’re still a bully.”

His chest clenches, and he looks at her, his eyes burning.

“Because you’re so mean to yourself,” she adds after a moment. “I think… there’s a little part of King Steve still inside you, you… beat the shit out of him every day.” She’s mumbling, talking so softly that it’s almost like she’s talking to herself.

“But if you’re— if you’re gonna be Steve Steve, our Steve, the— the Steve that’s best friends with a dorky lesbian and a fourteen-year-old nerd, you gotta… forgive yourself. Let King Steve go.”

Steve blinks tears back, swallowing thickly, exhaling shakily, because she’s right. King Steve lives inside him, like he’s hiding in his ribcage, and Steve won’t leave him alone. He torments him, bullies him. Even though King Steve is just a kid, just a scared, lonely kid without a clue about what or who he is. Even though Steve knows King Steve was pretending the whole time. Lying. Wearing a false crown.

“…You know about Robin?” he asks weakly, his voice wobbly, and Nancy smiles a little bit.

“I know well.”

He looks over at her, and she looks up at him, seeing the confusion in his watery eyes.

“Like recognizes like,” she says softly.

Oh.

His lips twitch into a smile, and she grins.

“Who would’ve thought?” Steve murmurs.

Nancy smiles so brightly that her eyes squeeze shut, and she leans so her head is resting on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve tilts his head to rest on hers.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t love you like I was supposed to,” Nancy says after a while, her voice soft.

“You weren’t supposed to love me, Nance,” Steve says, closing his eyes. “You can’t… You can’t make yourself love someone just because you think you have to. It’s okay.”

“I wanted to,” she whispers.

“It’s okay,” he says again.

She’s quiet again, and he thinks she’s fallen asleep until she speaks again.

“I do love you,” she says quietly. “Just… platonically.”

“With a capital P,” Steve murmurs, and he can practically sense her smile.

“Yeah.”

“‘S cool, Nance,” he says softly. “I love you too.”

He drifts off as she falls asleep, feeling her head become heavier on his shoulder, and at some point they both shift in discomfort on the wall, sitting up straight and groaning quietly. They glance at each other in the dark lighting of the room, and Nancy shifts to lie down on the bed next to Eddie, wrapping her arm around him and sighing. Steve follows, moving slowly so Eddie can shift with him, still laying on top of him on the small mattress.

Steve falls asleep.

He wakes up to Eddie climbing on top of him, and he winces, cracking his eyes open to squint in the bright sunlight that’s shining through the room. Eddie’s legs wrap around his hips and he buries his face in Steve’s neck as he sighs, and Nancy shifts closer to Steve in her sleep.

Steve sets a hand across Eddie’s back, holding him, and Nancy finds Steve’s other arm before he can wrap it around Eddie, hugging it to herself and nuzzling into his shoulder. Steve smiles.

Eddie rubs his face into Steve’s neck again, taking a deep breath, and then he lifts his head, his body tightening and trembling for a moment.

He’s squinting when he looks down at Steve, brows furrowed adorably. He blinks blankly at Steve, whose smile widens.

“You still high?” Steve asks softly.

Eddie stares for a moment before his lips curve into a smile, and he shrugs.

“‘M on top of Steve Harrington in my bed,” he says, his voice rough. “Might be.”

Steve laughs lightly, closing his eyes. Eddie shifts to touch his face, poking his cheek and tracing the bridge of his nose and outlining his lips.

“Feels real,” Eddie murmurs.

“‘M real, Eds.”

“‘M gonna go back to sleep,” Eddie mumbles, sticking his face back in Steve’s neck. His breath is warm.

“Okay.”

[eddiestattoos]

Thinking about season 3 vs season 5 Buddie a little too hard.

Season 3 we see the lawsuit arc. Buck's reeling from losing his job, the tsunami, leading him to the ill advised lawsuit which led him to not being there for Eddie (or Chris) when they needed him. Eddie's a mess from losing Shannon and not knowing exactly how to help his son who not only lost his mother but also went through a major traumatic experience months later. And Buck's not there.

Then we hit Eddie's breaking point 2 years later. And Buck's there. The second Chris calls him when he hears Eddie in his room, he's there. And Chris called Buck. Not 911, not any of his actual biological relatives, Buck. And he comes. And he stays. And he's there for Eddie, he's there for Chris all the way through it. Not just because they're family and he'd do literally anything for either of them but because there's no way in hell he's going to let himself be on the outside when Eddie's spiraling, when Eddie needs him ever again