#good guy argyle
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muppetjackrackham · 9 months ago
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shoutout to all the critics who hated argylle and tore it to shreds in their reviews you people have no joy in your life
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argyleheir · 29 days ago
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Clive Barker’s Nightbreed (1990) misses the mark in several ways; but it does include a scene where the bad guy stabs the good guy, and then the good guy stabs the bad guy with the same knife, while still stabbed. And kills him thus 👌
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wayward-sherlock · 1 year ago
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thinking abt how someone’s gonna die next season but all of the characters have such complex relationships with each other that no matter what it’s going to hurt real fucking bad.
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asydicsydney · 4 months ago
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The Man who is Not Tall and The Man who is Not Short and their Labyrinth crates mentioned in year 12 finale and year 13 premiere, and I hope hope hope that means FOW news or a new book because PLEASE
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sinclairstarz · 10 months ago
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JUST FOUND OUT THERES A HIGH CHANCE ARGYLE WILL BE WRITTEN OUT OF S5?????????? AND THEY DIDNT EVEN CALL EDUARDO FRANCO TO LET HIM KNOW???????? not joking this show is made by nasty fucking people!!!! u have three (3) prominent characters of color, only ONE thats a main character, and one was only added in the last season, ignored and cast to the side the whole time, completely just to be WRITTEN OUT of s5????? this is ridiculous to still be happening in 2024 im so serious.
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jargyles · 1 year ago
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jargyle and the "no one understands him like i do" and the mutual "i cant believe this is how you live your life" and the "lets cope together" and the "your family matters to me" and the whimsy and dedication and trust and care and true love and understanding of it all
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mercuryislove · 6 months ago
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I've been playing persona with my bestie almost every single night since p3r came out and we just finished p5r last night and now I'm like. what's going to fill this arcana-based void in my heart. what else could possibly be the means by which all is revealed
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jonathanbyersphd · 1 year ago
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High! Jonathan reassuring Murray that the risotto is incredible bc he knows he owes that man his life
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rosicheeks · 1 year ago
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I LOVE that you will be picky with your next relationship!
Damn straight that they better put the work in to make the relationship work!
You are worthy of their time and dedication!
This makes me love you even more!
(Truth be told..."insane" Rosie would be a sight to see!)
🥰
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theweeweecreature · 2 years ago
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I really hope the kids get more than one outfit for season 5, especially the cali guys
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ledleaf · 7 months ago
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Ah this is so good i love fics where steve still has his love of sports!!
Trauma bond? No. Bro bond.
Was having Steve and Lucas bro bond thoughts that accidentally turned into Steve whump.
Steve and Lucas bonding over sports more than anyone realized they ever would.
Like yeah, everyone knew Steve played basketball and was on the swim team in high school; that was practically his entire personality for a bit. But they never realized how much he actually /liked/ the sports.
Until he was geeking out with Lucas over a new play they’d thought of.
It was odd for them all to see Steve so excited. They watched on from their seats on the front porch steps. Eddie and Jonathan each had a beer, the both of them sharing a blunt with Argyle. Nancy and Robin sat on the steps below them, watching on while Steve and Lucas payed them no mind from the driveway.
It was almost comical— how the moment Lucas showed up on his bike Steve was up in an instant. After confirming it was indeed not a code red, Steve was quick to join Lucas. Especially after being told it was basketball related.
Steve had kicked his own beer over in his haste to get up.
Now Steve and Lucas were in the driveway, the garage door down (to prevent damage to the cars) and the Harrington’s basketball hoop out. Both were blissfully unaware of the eyes following them. Well, the eyes following /Steve/, it was more like.
Circling back the earlier thought; they’d never seen him to engaging in something. So excited. So…happy.
Which was really sad to think about.
“I’ve never seen him so excited over something,” Nancy said, speaking everyone’s thoughts.
Well. Except Argyle’s, it seems. “Nah, man. He gets like this anytime he starts talking about sports. We were watching a soccer game on TV last night and he was like— totally freaking out! Waving his hands around and talking a mile a minute.”
He took a puff of the blunt and passed it to Eddie, unaware of how he just tilted everyone’s worlds.
“Wait—“ Eddie took a drag and his voice was strained while he kept in the smoke “—he actually talks to you about that shit?”
Argyle hummed and looked at Eddie oddly. Eddie blew the smoke out and held Argyle’s eye.
“Yeah dude. All the time. Might help that I played volleyball back in Cali but— really, I just like hearing him talk. And I think he likes talking. He talks a lot.”
Argyle was getting extra talkative now, his sentences becoming shorter and more frequent. That’s how you knew he was high enough to not care.
“He’s never really been that talkative,” mumbled Robin, a sudden kind of dread settling uncomfortably in her chest.
Argyle shrugged. “Maybe you don’t talk about what he likes to talk about. He likes talking about sports. And romance books. He reads a lot of romance books.”
Well isn’t that something, Eddie thought. Steve Harrington likes to read.
(It brought up a distant memory from high school, from Steve’s sophomore year and Eddie’s junior year. Back before “King Steve” meant “jackass”.
“Well well, looky here, fellas! King Steve is gracing us peasants with his presence.” Eddie called mockingly to the young man sitting at the table in the library.
Steve— only 15 at the time, not 16 for another couple of months— looked up from his book with furrowed brows and a pout on his pretty pink lips. A pout that 21 year old Eddie would come to love.
Steve hadn’t done to much in the interaction. He more or less sat in silence while Eddie went on and on about something he couldn’t remember now.
When Steve had gotten up from the table, he doggy-eared his page (like a monster) and tucked the book under his arm. Eddie saw the title only briefly, “Forever Amber”.)
“Do we really never talk about his interests?” asked Jonathan to the sky, his head tilted up while he blew the smoke away.
They all startled when a series of shouts and laughs came from Lucas and Steve in the driveway. Eddie looked over in time to watch Steve pull Lucas in for a hug where they both patted each others backs aggressively. Eddie’s seen the guys do that at games. Some kind of weird bro-hug.
Eddie continued to watch when Steve bent down to pick up the rolling basketball. Eddie’s mind went other places quick enough when Steve pulled his shorts up a little higher. Robin smacked his calf.
“Seriously, you guys never talk to him about sports?” Argyle asked, flabbergasted. And I suppose he had every right to be. These were some of Steve’s closest friends. His boyfriend and his best friend! And they never got to listen to Steve rant about a particular basketball game from high school? About some specific swimming stroke and how it helped him win swim competitions?
They were seriously missing out.
Robin hung her head in shame and thought about it, her eyes misting over the more she realized that— yeah, she never talked to Steve about sports. Let alone his other interests. (Did he have other interests? That fact that she had to ask this question made her want to cry and hug Steve.)
Robin picked her head up and propped it in her hands. She looked on with everyone else as Steve and Lucas cheered about something or other.
.
Steve tossed Lucas the ball in the driveway. He bent himself at the knees and placed his hands on his thighs, breathing heavily.
“Alright, Sinclair. Hit me.” he smirked.
He and Lucas had been tossing the ball back and forth for close to an hour now, both excited to get this play right. Lucas dribbled the ball three times on the ground quickly before he set into motion.
Steve cut him off to the left, but Lucas swerved to the right so fast he nearly toppled himself over. Steve turned and jumped in front of him just in time to body slam him slightly. Not nearly as rough as he could’ve been, holding back because they were outside on concrete and Steve wasn’t going to be responsible for a concussion.
The ball rolled away into the grass, unnoticed while Steve gave Lucas a hand and pulled him up.
Lucas was taking heaving breaths, and for a scary moment Steve was worried he’d slammed him too hard and knocked his lungs around. It’s possible. That’s why Steve himself had an inhaler in the drawer closest to his bed.
But then Lucas was laughing, and soon Steve was to.
“Dude! How’d you do that? I’ve never seen anyone move like that man!” Lucas praised over his heavy breathing. Steve chuckled and took his own deep breaths.
He clapped Lucas on the shoulder, grabbed the ball, and steered him towards the porch. “Plant your feet next time.” He felt a ping of anger and sadness at the words, but tramped it down.
It was only when he’d reached the porch with Lucas that Steve realized they were alone outside. Had everyone gone inside? Did sports seriously bore them so much that they just up and left? The thought made something bitter churn in Steve’s gut.
Whatever.
He led Lucas through the door and dropped the basketball on the porch by the door. It was muddy and his floors were going to remain white for as long as possible thank you very much.
They both left their shoes by the door and traveled to the kitchen, Lucas talking about how fast he’d ducked and wanting to know what Steve meant by planting his feet. Steve agreed to another playing session the next day with a grin. It was nice to have someone who enjoyed what he did.
He tossed Lucas a bottle of water from the fridge and made sure the kid drank it all. They sat with each other at the counter for a minute, Steve idly sipping his water and listening to Lucas’ still heavy breaths.
“Damn, I still can’t catch my breath man.” Lucas laughed lightly.
Steve smiled and set his water down.
“Wait here, don’t do anything stupid.”
Lucas gave him a two finger salute as he walked off upstairs. Steve was sure to avoid the living room and was quick to grab the aforementioned inhaler from his drawer. He jogged back into the kitchen and sat next to Lucas one more.
“Ok, so I’m assuming you know what an inhaler is.”
Lucas nodded, staring at the inhaler in Steve’s hand oddly.
“I don’t have asthma,” Lucas said matter-of-factly.
Steve chuckled. “And neither do I. But there are times where you get knocked around too much or too hard, and it can rattle your lungs. I found that out the hard way when I was 14 and had my first asthma attack. My lungs had rattled so much they got trapped between my ribs and my mom had to take me to the hospital.”
Lucas winced. “Seriously? How the hell did you manage that?”
My dad got a little too rough, Steve thought. But decided against saying that, obviously. He smiled and shook his head. “Not important.”
Steve uncapped the inhaler and gave it a good shake. “Ok, I’m assuming you know at least a little about using one of these but one things for sure, you’ve gotta fix your posture.”
Lucas immediately straightened his back.
Steve went on explaining about how curling into yourself like that basically compressed your lungs and made breathing harder.
He held the inhaler to Lucas’ mouth and instructed him to breathe in and hold it for as long as he felt he could before releasing slowly.
Lucas did as instructed, and after no more than two puffs Steve instructed him to simply keep his back straight and take deep breaths through his nose and to release slowly through his mouth.
Lucas left on his bike a few minutes later with a few snacks and an extra bottle of water in his bag. Steve told him to talk to his parents about getting him a medical inhaler if he planned to stick out basketball for all of high school. Steve knew how aggressive those kids could be, and while it wasn’t always necessary it was helpful.
When he closed the door behind Lucas he went straight to the living room.
Where apparently everyone had relocated.
“Uh.. hey?” Steve waved pathetically. He had really no idea what to do with the 5 pairs of eyes on him.
“Ok? Um— seriously why are you all looking at me like that? It’s fucking freaky.” Steve curled in on himself a little, folding his arms and hunching his shoulders.
Robin was the first to shoot out of her seat on the couch. Steve was given no warning before he was engulfed in a hug.
“Oh? Ok—“ He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “What happened, Robs? You alright?” he asked from where his face was tucked into her neck.
She nodded, but it was obvious something was wrong.
When Robin let go she dragged Steve by the wrist to the couch and sat with him. He looked at everyone else settled in the living room and raised an eyebrow.
“This isn’t like— an intervention or something, right?” he tried to joke. Argyle seemed to find it funny at least. Steve smiled at him where he sat on the floor by the coffee table.
Then there was an arm wrapping around his waist from the side Robin wasn’t pressed against and Steve wasted no time leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“What’s up with you guys, huh? You’re quiet and it’s scary. I don’t like it.” Steve muttered the last part under his breath and more to himself. But Eddie squeezed his hip reassuringly.
“Nothing’s up, baby. How was everything with Lucas?” Eddie asked. Steve barely gave himself time to pause before he answered, “Good. He’s been moving a lot faster lately.”
He bit his tongue against the slew of words he wanted to spill about everything they’d done in that hour they’d been outside. Instead he said,
“Sorry. Totally ditched you guys for the ball.” He chuckled, trying to take the weight of the words off some. Eddie tutted.
“Don’t apologize, Steve. You looked like you having fun.” Came Nancy’s unexpected reply. Steve’s head shot up to look at her before traveling back to Argyle, who gave him a vague “go on” gesture with his hand.
“Uh..” He pulled his eyes back to Nancy. “Yeah, had a lot of fun. Um— you guys alright?”
Jonathan groaned and Steve watched Nancy hit him on the arm. They had a whole argument with their eyes before Nancy deflated. What the hell?
“Steve.” Jonathan started. Steve flinched slightly and didn’t relax when Eddie squeezed his hip.
He braced himself for the laughs, the jeers. Them telling him they didn’t care that he had fun and that they had to go.
“We’re sorry.”
Steve blinked. You’d think an apology that sounded so heartfelt would lower his inner walls a bit, but it only served to raise them higher. Because—
“What the fuck? Why?”
Jonathan rubbed the back of his head and let Nancy take the lead this time.
“For brushing you off.”
Steve blinked, his inner walls no longer rising but not lowering either.
“For not showing that we cared whenever you started talking about your sports and things.” Was Robin’s add-on from beside him.
Steve flinched and made to get up but remembered he was kind of held down by both Robin and Eddie.
“So this is an intervention? Guys it’s fine, seriously—“
“No. It’s not. Stop talking for a second and let us be sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie’s grip tightened again and Steve tried to find comfort in it like he normally did, but he was so uncomfortable right now it was unbelievable.
He doesn’t think he’s ever been apologized to. Not like this. Not with such sincerity.
It scared him, honestly.
“We’re sorry we didn’t bother trying to show interest in anything you did even though you always made sure to show interest in ours,” was how Eddie finished.
“Even with all the teasing you add in.” Chuckled Jonathan.
Steve found a bit of the comfort he was searching for.
He cleared his throat. “Um ok— so—“
“Not done.” Demanded Nancy.
Steve shut up.
“We’re sorry that we made fun of your interests and maybe made you feel like you couldn’t share your thoughts and feelings with us in fear of getting ridiculed.”
And good God if that wasn’t right on the money.
Steve swallowed against the tears that threatened to mist over his vision.
He laughed quietly instead. And maybe he looked like he was going insane but Jesus Christ— he couldn’t take this right now. He was not expecting a fucking apology after an hour of playing basketball.
What the fuck has his life turned into?
“Ok— done now?” he asked. And when nobody spoke up against him he continued.
“So um— thanks? For the apology? I guess— I guess I just don’t understand. Why are you guys apologizing when you didn’t do anything wrong?”
That got him a chorus of groans that made him curl into himself more. He hung his head and pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer, a nervous habit he’d developed in middle school.
“Steve.” Robin gently said. “We have every reason to apologize and fucking grovel.”
Steve wasn’t given a single moment to protest.
“Sweetheart, what did you do yesterday when I was talking about my campaign?”
Steve looked at Eddie funny. “Dude I don’t know— I think you started talking about it while I was cooking?”
Eddie nodded. “And then you told me to hold on while you put the lasagna in the oven so you could give me your full attention.”
Steve blinked dumbly, not quite getting it.
“That’s the bare minimum, Ed. You were talking about something you really liked so I made sure you knew I was listening.”
And oh wow. It just dawned on him.
“Exactly, honey. None of us— except Argyle, apparently— have been giving you the attention you deserve even though you give us yours no matter what.”
“Steve you listened to me drone about types of cameras and film last week for three hours and didn’t complain once. I know for a fact that shit was boring to listen to because I’ve been told so by both Will and El numerous times.”
Steve stared at Jonathan.
“Ok, sure. But I don’t see— I don’t get— I don’t care that you guys don’t listen to me. Sports are complicated and yeah sure it kind of hurts when you scoff as if it doesn’t mean shit—“
Eddie’s grip tightened considerably.
“—but it— I get it. You guys aren’t obligated to listen to my shit. I listen to you guys because I want to. Because I like hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. Like Nancy and that new article for the school paper about the different recipe for the meatloaf that makes it taste like dirt, apparently. Or how Polaroid cameras actually date all the way back to like— 1948. Or—“
“But that’s the thing, Steve.” Nancy cut him off. “You listen to these things and remember them because you want to. Because you’re a good friend and good friends listen. We—“ he waved her hand around to all of them “—have not been good friends.”
Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat while Nancy continued.
“The fact that you remember my exact words of calling the meatloaf dirt just proves that. Because we had that conversation, what? A month ago?”
“Three weeks ago.” Me mumbled uselessly.
Nancy sighed.
Robin sat up and took Steve’s face in her hands. “Stevie. We love you. So let us.”
And just like that, Steve was engulfed in a giant group hug.
He didn’t realize how much it’d affected him before now. How being scoffed at and made fun of— even if it was playful— hurt him so much that he’d just stopped talking about things.
When they pulled away Eddie kissed his forehead and Robin kissed his cheek. Steve giggled at the sudden affection.
Bonus:
The very next day, Steve saw the change.
Saw the change in how Eddie made sure to ask him about what he was cooking and then let Steve explain the process of a breakfast casserole. How Eddie simply smiled and even engaged with questions as if he was really interested. And maybe Steve didn’t completely believe he was interested, but that was ok. He’d come to his senses eventually.
Then at work Robin made a point to let him choose what they put on the TV for the day and didn’t even complain when he chose the Breakfast Club.
He was scared that they change would last no more than a week. That after some time they’d all go right back to how it was before.
But then a week passed. And two. And three. And then months we’re going by where Steve was allowed to rant and talk and argue about things like cooking and baking and basketball and soccer and volleyball and so much more because they would listen.
And then a year passed and it was April and it was his birthday and when he was surrounded by everyone— the kids, the older teens, even the adults— he opened a present and looked down at the book in his lap.
“Forever Amber”.
Steve will never admit to the tears that he cried that day.
Probably gonna do something like this with Lucas and the kids cause I love Lucas ❤️
Here’s that lol:
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jeannedarcgerard · 1 year ago
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sorry for being petty and having bad opinions but i do block stranger things fans who dont like eddie munson
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rebelfell · 3 months ago
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Can I interest anyone in a wee bit of frenemy(?)eddie and some soft confessions while under the influence?
18+, MDNI 2.2k
cw: drug use (edible)
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“Oh, wow. She’s really out.”
Nancy wasn’t wrong, but Eddie didn’t need to be told. He had noted your rapid descent into sleep when it started halfway through the movie. Your eyelids fluttering like they had weights attached to them and your body curling into itself as you sank into the cushions of the Wheeler’s sofa.
You were crumpled in a ball at the end of it now, hugging the arm like you thought you were going to roll off the edge of a cliff if you let go. Your half-drunk beer still sat on the end table, abandoned once the edible you split with Argyle took effect.
Eddie had foolishly tried to warn you off it, saying you should start with half of your half and go from there. But of course that only set the two of you off like a pair of dueling firecrackers.
He didn’t know how he kept ending up in these spats with you. He never intended to insult you, it just seemed he had a real knack for it. You always accused him of babying you and he’d accuse you of being too stubborn for your own good.
Had anyone besides Eddie suggested you take it easy, you probably would have listened and might still be conscious right now.
Nancy jostled you gently, trying to rouse you while Eddie peered over her shoulder. He didn’t care for the lifeless way your limbs hung, for the way your head lolled forward on your shoulders like you couldn’t hold it up yourself.
It made his fingers drum nervously on the outside edge of his thigh and the wallet chain that hung there clinked with each and every irregular tap.
Of course he knew there was logically no way you could OD on a pot brownie—but that didn’t mean he delighted in seeing you so incapacitated.
Eyes shut tight, you started babbling softly in response to Nancy’s voice as she tried to draw you back to the world of the waking. With a soft oof, she got you to put one arm around her neck and attempted to lift you off the couch. But even with the deceptive strength of her slight frame, she wasn’t getting you anywhere by herself.
So, she glanced around the room at the rest of their friends in their various states of intoxication.
Steve and Robin were long gone, Robin being the winner of their coin toss for who got to drink that night while the other stayed sober. She’d skipped on the edible and mainlined strawberry daiquiris instead, leading to her calling out forlornly as Steve helped drag her out the door,
“What if I puke pink? Please, please, please, don’t let me puke pink—”
Argyle and Jonathan were passed out, entwined on the pallet of blankets and pillows on the floor, Jonathan likely not realizing the warm chest he was burying his face in wasn’t his girlfriend’s.
Finally, her determined gaze fell to Eddie, and she tilted her head at him in that Nancy way of her’s that gave out marching orders without her so much as speaking a word. With another glance at your sleeping form, Eddie released a resigned sigh and nodded his head.
As they helped you climb the stairs, one arm slung over each of their shoulders, you started to rouse again and slowly registered what was happening through the fog of your high.
“Aww, shit…m’fucked up, huh?” you chuckled, letting out a heavy sigh. “M’so sorry, Nance, I shouldn’t have…he was right…again…”
The bitter edge in your voice as the last word left your lips made Eddie’s brow jump with interest. You lifted your head the full two inches you could manage and peered at Nancy through half-lidded eyes. Your head then swiveled to the other side and Eddie braced himself for more vitriol.
But none came.
Your face didn’t even change and Eddie realized your current state made he and Nancy’s mops of messy brown curls somewhat indistinguishable. You just continued on like you were still talking to your best friend, not the guy you couldn’t stand.
“Wheeler, you’re a fucking beast, you know that? You’re so strong…”
The loopy giggle you let out brought a smile to Eddie’s lips in spite of himself. He felt your hand start to curl around his shoulder and it made him tense, worrying you’d recognize the rough denim of his vest. But your fingers simply held it, rubbed the frayed hem of his cut-off sleeve between the pads, your sleepy smile re-forming.
“God, Nance, you smell so good…”
Your head suddenly drooped, landing partially on Eddie’s shoulder and making his breath catch.
You took a deep inhale of his scent, your chest expanding with it and making Eddie’s eyes bulge and then avert quickly when he caught himself ogling the deep scoop of your neckline. He had already committed most of the night to avoiding just that, his eyes just…slipped for a second.
Over your head, he caught Nancy’s gaze and the cloudy blue color might as well have been a bright red laser for how clearly she saw through him.
Thankfully, they got to the guest room before she could make any damning remarks. She pushed open the door and flicked on the bedside lamp, illuminating a bed piled obscenely high with pillows and a down comforter seemingly thicker than some mattresses Eddie had slept on.
“Can you hold her?” Nancy asked, looking from the bed back to him.
His throat bobbed with a harsh swallow and he nodded, only half-sure of his answer. Nancy lifted your other arm from her shoulder and turned you into his body. Your other arm wrapped around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder.
His hands wrapped hesitantly around your back, holding you against him almost like you were slow dancing. He had to resist the urge to sway.
Heart thundering so loud he feared it might wake you, Eddie watched while Nancy pushed all of the decorative pillows to the floor and turned down the comforter, motioning Eddie forward.
He walked you backwards a few steps and sat you down on the edge of the bed while Nancy knelt to take off your shoes. Thankfully, the dress code on movie night was always supremely casual and the track pants and tank top you’d worn would be fine to sleep in.
You babbled a bit more as they got you ready for bed, seemingly oblivious to Eddie’s presence—even mentioning him briefly as they helped you lay flat and Nancy lifted your legs onto the bed.
“He’s just so annoying, you know?” you muttered bitterly. “Like, whatever, you’re hot and you play guitar and you’ve banged like half the town. That doesn’t mean you know everything.”
Eddie tried not to let the words sting. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t said before to his face, but there was something about you still saying it, even when he “wasn’t there” to hear it.
Apparently it wasn’t just an act.
“I’m gonna get water,” Nancy whispered, already out the door. “Just keep an eye on her, please?”
Eddie frowned and grumbled in response, but he didn’t move from his spot beside you. He did start to turn away, but stopped when you shifted in the bed. You reached out a limp hand and caught just the tips of Eddie’s fingers, tugging lightly on them like you wanted to tell him something.
He sank slowly to his knees, trying to hear you as your lips moved almost mutely.
“Should’ve listened,” you muttered. “Shouldn’t’ve been such a dick…”
You seemed perfectly content continuing your conversation even without “Nancy” responding, and Eddie wondered if he should just go? He was positive you’d be mortified if you ever found out he had overheard any of this. But even as he was screaming at his feet to move, for his knees to rise, they remained planted on the Wheeler’s plush carpeting at your next words.
“Nance…why doesn’t he like me?”
It took what felt like a year for Eddie to unfreeze. He looked towards the door for a sign of Nancy’s shadow in the hallway, the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. But there was none.
Your head lolled on the pillow, eyes still shut but the lids twitching subtly like you were trying to open them. If you did, you’d be staring straight into Eddie’s own rapt gaze. You still held your pitifully weak grasp on his fingers, and he easily could have pulled away. But he didn’t.
Eddie just watched, torn between his standards of decency and being desperate to find out what you were talking about. He didn’t even know you were into anyone—let alone that you liked them enough to groan about them to Nancy. What kind of idiot wouldn’t like you back?
Some sadistic part of him wanted to find out.
“I mean, I know I’m not—m’not like…Chrissy—but I’m alright, aren’t I? An’ I wore thisstupid booby shirt hoping he’d notice and he just…”
Your voice took on a wounded waver and you stopped, inhaling deeply as if to steady yourself. The beginnings of tears started to shimmer along your lash line and you shut your eyes tighter, but it only squeezed one of them out and made it trickle down your temple in a wet trail.
Okay…Eddie was really confused now.
He didn’t even know you knew his ex-girlfriend’s name until it came tumbling past your lips. And he sure as shit had so noticed your booby shirt—he’d barely been able to keep his eyes off you, had to actively force himself not to stare.
Had you actually…did you really wear it for him?
All of a sudden, you rolled onto your side and your eyes cracked open the widest he had seen them all night. You looked almost lucid and you were staring directly into Eddie’s face.
He flinched slightly, worried you might scream when you saw him. But you just sighed, scanning his features all glassy and moon-eyed as you stared at him plainly. Unabashedly.
Like he’s an oil painting that couldn’t look back.
“He’s just so…pretty.”
The words are whispered, like a secret. And it takes everything in him to remain totally still and not to let his eyes bug completely out of his skull. Wait, did you…Did you not think he was there?
“I like’im so much…what’m I gonna do?”
There it was again. That plaintive whine, that broken lilt of your voice that tugged mercilessly at something deep inside of him. Heartstrings he didn’t know were there until you plucked them.
You looked at him with those shiny eyes. Literal tears were filling them now, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You were crying. Over him? What kind of world was he living in?
And nearly too late, Eddie realized your eyes were fluttering closed again. Not from exhaustion, but to lean in and kiss him.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. You stretched your neck forward, hand coming up to cup his jaw—god, your palms were so soft, not rough and hard like his—and Eddie felt himself melt briefly into your touch, just for a moment before he realized what you were doing.
Eyes closing, chest heaving, lips parting as you leaned into what you thought was a dream.
No, no, no, he thought frantically. Not like this—
Eddie wrapped his hand around your wrist and gently pulled away from you. It made you push a little harder, trying to fight your way out of his grasp, but you were weak and looked more like a kitten trying to box. He didn��t know what to do, he didn’t want you to get upset, he just—
“Hey,” he soothed, gently brushing the backs of his fingertips along your jaw. “Just go to sleep, okay? We can talk about this in the morning.”
You blinked, seemingly in realization, like you were surprised to hear him speak. And it made him wonder how many of your other dreams he’d starred in where he didn’t say a word.
But his voice seemed to soothe you somewhat, your fists unclenching and dropping to lay on the softness of the sheets. You nodded your head as your face sunk back into the pillow, your cheek rubbing the dainty floral bouquets on the case.
Eddie let out the breath he didn’t remember he was holding, his shoulders slumping with it as his mind raced. Carefully, with nimble fingers curled around the edge of the comforter, he tugged it up further over your shoulders, almost to your chin. You snuggled a little deeper into your sleep and Eddie tucked the blanket in a little tighter, his heart pounding with every second.
And before he could talk himself out of it, he dropped a feather-light kiss to your forehead.
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Once in a while we have to do the pining, I guess 🙄
Very veeeeeeeeeery loosely inspired by that scene in New Girl where Jess is on painkillers. Ty for reading - love you, mean it!
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@steddie-spooktober day 3: apples | rated: G | wc: 998
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“Wow, he’s really good at that.” Robin remarks as Eddie sloshes back up out of the bucket with yet another apple caught in his grin, “Who'da thunk, huh?”
“Yeah…” Steve breathes, watching Eddie’s hair drip down over his forehead and down his neck, “He’s really good with his mouth.”
Robin chokes on her most recent swig of cider, “I’m sorry, what?!”
“Uh…” Steve feels his face turn hot, “Huh? I didn’t say anything.” He moves to turn away back into the Hoppers’ cabin, an excuse of the bathroom or a new mug of cider ready behind his teeth and Robin on his heels
“Oh no you don’t; you explain yourself this instant Steven Marie Harrington!” She demands, voice much louder than he’d like it to be, “What did you just say about Eddie Munson’s mouth??”
“Nothing that anyone—especially the Eddie in question—needs to hear! Quiet down!” He whispers in a harried tone.
He pulls her into Hopper’s tiny bathroom, snapping the door shut behind him.
“You have a crush on Eddie Munson?! Our Eddie Munson?”
Steve leans back against the door and sighs, letting himself sink to the floor. “Still too loud.” he says, not actually meaning it.
She must’ve been able to tell that he’s trying to stall, so she sinks onto the shallow edge of the tub to wait. One of her knees knocks against the bowl of the toilet, the other against the wall.
“I think I have for a little while now. Since spring break at least.” he confesses, now that he’s in the proper position to do so, here on the bathroom floor.
“You found time to get your first crush on a guy since figuring out you’re bi, and it’s during yet another upside-down related catastrophe.” Robin states rather than asks. “You’re something else, Dingus.”
“Gee, thanks for your support.”
“You have it always, obviously,” she waves him off, “Just surprised that the first I’m hearing about it is when your horny lizard brain tells me for you.”
“It’s been getting really annoying lately.”
“What, having a big gay crush on someone? I feel you.”
“No, lizard brain is being really annoying lately. But yeah, also that.”
Steve’s gaze is stuck on the slightly mis-matched piece of linoleum between his feet, but sees Robin nod her head in his periphery.
Neither say anything for a solid 45 seconds, until: “So what are you going to do about it?”
“Something… eventually… maybe…” he hedges, “Just ‘cause he’s into guys too doesn’t mean he’s into me.”
“Oh yeah, of course he isn’t.”
He rolls his eyes at the sarcasm. “I’m being serious Robin.”
“Me too.”
Steve finally looks up at her.
“Don’t give me that look, I’m being serious about my sarcasm, Steven. Of course Eddie’s into you; you saw how he was flirting with you during the whole Vecna fiasco!” Robin flails her arm around in emphasis, “How he’s been flirting with you ever since.”
“What if that’s not just for me though, he’s annoyingly charming to everyone!”
“He may be charming,” She grimaces (“Hey!”), “But that doesn’t mean he’s out here flirting with anyone!”
“He just feels comfortable with me.”
“Everyone our age knows about Eddie, Steve, and he’s still been his same dorky self with all them. You’re the only one he’s been flirting with nonstop.”
Steve opens his mouth to respond, but closes it again. 
Damn, she’s got a point.
Eddie never calls Jonathan ‘sweetheart’, or Argyle ‘big boy’... he’s heard him say once that Hopper was his first crush when he’d had one too many drinks, but she’s right.. Eddie’s only flirty with him.
Steve suddenly feels all swoopy inside. And it must show on his face somehow, because Robin says “Ew gross, you’re thinking about him aren’t you?”
“No, I’m thinking about Hopper– of course I’m thinking about him!” Steve grins, then pushes him up off the floor. “Okay, okay, I just have to make it through the rest of the day, and I’ll ask him out tomorrow when he comes in to bother us for a free rental at work.”
He looks down at Robin, searching her face for any sign that it isn’t a good plan.
She nods, “Good. Now where are you going to take him?”
The answer to that one was simple, “Movie date at my place.”
Robin snorts, “A bit presumptuous, eh Stevie?”
The floaty feeling in his gut turns into a boulder, “I mean— That’s not what— Obviously I’d love it to—” he cuts himself off for the last time at the smirk on her face. “Oh fuck you.” He shakes his head in fond exasperation as he turns, heading back out of the bathroom.
Robin’s teasing him still when the back door opens and Eddie waltzes in, the round, decorative basket Joyce had been using to put all the apples people fished out of the barrel in his arms and a(nother? The same?) apple lodged in his teeth.
He spots them and puts the basket down on the island, spinning dramatically to lean onto the tabletop to face them.
His hand comes up to grab onto the apple, snapping off a bite and sucking away the juice as he takes it away from his mouth, “Hey Stevie, Birdie,” he says over a mouthful of crunching fruit.
Steve blinks once, then turns to Robin, “I’m not going to survive 'till tomorrow.”
Before she or Eddie can react, Steve is striding across the room and pulling his sodden friend to him in a tart, apple-flavored kiss.
Robin says something about being lookout, but Steve’s too busy feeling Eddie’s mouth on his.
Until Eddie pulls back that is.
“Shit– Eddie, I’m so sorry, I—” Steve stops when Eddie’s finger comes up between them.
Eddie chews once, twice, a third, then swallows down the rest of his bite.
Ah.
“Okay,” Eddie breathes once his mouth is clear. “Now, where were we?” He tosses the apple over his shoulder and descends upon Steve once again.
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divider from @saradika-graphics!
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heavencasteel420 · 2 years ago
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I have some qualms about this list, but I really love a lot of her ideas about the older kids.
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stevesjockstrap · 1 year ago
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Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?
Based on this post
Or, Steve invites Craigslist!Eddie to Thanksgiving as his fake boyfriend for entertainment and drama purposes
Rated: T? Always with the swearing idk | read on ao3
ETA a/n: shout out to @rocknrollsalad for a direct quote in here and putting up with me and @machtaholic for encouraging this 🖤
“Are you serious?”
Steve sighed. “Yes, Robbie. You know how much my parents have been on me since they’re losing what little power they have left. This is going to be awesome.”
She was pacing around their living room, making him anxious. “But why are you going to take this stranger from Craigslist? Why can’t you find someone you know? Argyle would do it. What if this guy doesn’t show, or he comes and steals something?”
“If he doesn’t show I’m in the same boat anyhow, but hey, there’s a thought. You think I can pay him more to steal something from my parents? I’d love to see that.”
“Steve!” She rounded on him, eyes wide. “You’re paying him? You didn’t tell me that!”
“For fuck’s sake, Rob. He didn’t ask for money, the post actually said he would do it just for food. But the guy’s driving half an hour and I’m willing to bet my family is worse than he’s expecting. Sit down, you’re making me dizzy. Read this and tell me this isn’t exactly what I need.” He scrolled on his phone and handed it to her.
Her shoulders relaxed as she read on, laughing finally, “You’re not going to make him propose or fight your dad on the front lawn, right?”
“Maybe for Christmas,” he smirked.
His parent’s house was always so cold and empty. It was his childhood home but he had never really felt any attachment to it. His apartment with Robin was small and cluttered but cozy, and full of memories of them and their friends. They had done a Friendsgiving the previous weekend that had been a dangerously good time. (The smoke detector had only gone off three times, a new record.)
Running his hand through his hair again, he looked at the clock. Would Eddie show? He checked his phone again, knowing there were no missed texts because he had just looked thirty seconds ago. Why was he more nervous about meeting him than introducing him to his family? They’d had one phone call and some texts, mostly arranging the time and place and Steve already apologizing for his family.
Eddie had laughed, “It’s okay, Steve. Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.”
He went to the bathroom, just to kill time.
And of course the doorbell rang.
He quickly washed and dried his hands, sparing a second to pull his hair into a less raked-through mess.
Quickening his pace when he saw his mom still holding the door open, not allowing whoever was on the stoop in, he craned his neck to see out the door.
Oh fuck.
“If you’d just go get him, ma’am, we could clear this all up,” Eddie was saying. The words were polite but there was an edge to them, just the tinge of a sneer on his lips. It was perfect.
“He’s mine,” he heard himself say. His mom whipped around, eyes crazed and mouth open. “Uh- I mean,” his eyes returned to Eddie standing on his doorstep. Taking in the long thick wavy hair, big brown eyes, his lips pulled into a toothy grin now. He’d clearly attempted to dress up, grey slacks and a black button down, paired with heavy combat boots. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal tattoos up his forearms and the backs of his hands. There were more tattoos on his neck, and Steve’s eyes glued themselves to the ring through his lip. Guh. “He’s, uh, here for me.”
“Hi Steve,” he watched the lips form. “Was just meeting your lovely mother.” Again there was nothing wrong with the words themselves, nothing anyone could pinpoint or take offense to. But that slithery way he said it with a razor sharp sting, Steve was impressed. He was clearly an expert at this.
Steve tried to school his own expression and voice. “My apologies. Mom, this is Eddie, my boyfriend.”
There was a long silence where he thought his mom was going to combust. She opened and closed her mouth several times, her eyebrows furrowed. He’d never seen her speechless before.
Eddie sent him a smirk and he almost matched it but his mom looked at him finally and stammered, ��Y-your, ah, I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and pulled in a steadying breath. When she opened them she asked, “He’s your boyfriend?”
“Yes ma’am,” Eddie answered from almost behind her now as she turned to question Steve.
“And why is it you didn’t tell us he was coming? Why is he ringing the doorbell like a stranger?”
“I, um, well I did think he’d text when he got here or something…” Steve started, meeting Eddie’s eyes over her shoulder.
“What, and miss out on this warm welcome?” Eddie winked at him but quickly settled his face when his mom turned to him. Doing the exact thing he’d hoped for, Mrs. Harrington remembering she’s leaving a guest out on her doorstep.
Steve delighted in the fact that this was going to be a chess match and his mother was already several moves behind.
Her eyes narrowed and she held a hand out to welcome Eddie in, walking them all into the foyer. “Well, don’t let me stop you, go ahead and greet your boyfriend, Steven.”
It was a challenge, he knew, but they hadn’t discussed this. Eddie was on the ball, however. He continued his momentum to slide a hand under Steve’s suit jacket to settle on his ribs and the other he brought up to cup his face, leaning in and angling their heads together. Steve tried to relax and closed his eyes. Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but from where his mom was standing she wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Hey, baby. Missed you,” he breathed when he pulled away. Steve was halfway to believing this himself.
“Yeah,” he sighed stupidly.
Eddie pulled his hands away and he almost reached back for them before stopping himself with a shake. He found he’d only gone a foot away when he opened his eyes though. Oh he was in trouble.
His mother cleared her throat from behind Eddie like she hadn’t put them up to this. Steve reached out for his hand and held onto it.
“Okay so I’m going to go introduce him to everyone else,” he said quickly and walked further into the house. Holding his hand.
They made their way through the dining room, Steve taking more and more pleasure with each stilted interaction Eddie weaved through with his family members.
His dad was propped in the living room with his uncle and Steve could feel his eyes on him as they made their way around. He knew his mother had ran to tell him all about it but he wouldn’t take being ignored well. It was making his skin crawl but he knew it would further piss off his dad so he kept it up.
After everyone else had been formally introduced to Eddie and Steve had gulped half a glass of wine, he felt almost ready to go deal with him. He took Eddie’s hand again and turned, but navigated them to the sliding glass door and outside instead.
It was chilly, late November in Indiana, but it felt amazing after the stuffiness of the house.
Steve remembered he still had Eddie’s hand in his and he quickly dropped it. “Uh, you smoke?”
Eddie grinned, all teeth and tongue as he held a battered pack of Newports out to him. “Not usually, really, but it makes for a good prop. Sorry they’re shit.”
“Holy shit. You’re amazing. I mean- perfect, I mean- fuck.” Steve laughed and shook his head. “The on-the-spot fact checking of my aunt’s political shit was next level. You could do this year round and make a killing, man.” He did pull a cigarette out of the pack and Eddie leaned into him, clicking the lighter for him, meeting his eyes as Steve sucked in.
“I don’t-“
The door slid open behind them and Mr. Harrington walked out.
“Looks like you and your date are avoiding me, Steven,” he said. Steve watched as he gave Eddie a very slow up and down look.
“No, dad. Just needed a break. It’s warm in there.” He made his face remain neutral. It’s not like anyone was cooking anything, his mom always got their big family meals catered.
His dad narrowed his eyes at him as he held eye contact, taking a drag from his bummed cigarette.
“Where is Robin today?”
He sighed. “With her family, dad. And for the last time, I’m not dating Robin. She’s a lesbian. This is Eddie, by the way. My date? He’s my boyfriend.”
When Steve had tried to come out as bisexual to his parents, his dad especially had made it clear that he did not accept that about his only child. As the years went on and he hadn’t spoken much about this part of his life, it seemed his dad had hoped it just went away.
Mr. Harrington scoffed, “I don’t understand why you want to throw your life away, Steven. I thought we’d raised you better-“ Eddie made a noise next to him and Steve knew he couldn’t look at him or he’d burst out laughing.
“Save it, dad. Believe it or not I love my life. Which is something I’d never thought I would be able to say. Can you even say that?”
His dad shook his head disappointedly and walked back inside.
“Excellent job. I don’t think you need me here after all,” Eddie joked.
Steve propped himself against the wall of the house, deeply tired from having to defend his choices to his dad for the umpteenth time.
“Maybe not need. But it’s been really fun having you here. Usually dinner conversation is about how big of a disappointment I am. Oh, I guess I didn’t give you that backstory. I’m graduating with my masters in psychology in the spring, and I’ve been early accepted into a PhD program. And there’s no money in helping people,” he chuckled. “So.” He scuffed out the butt with his heel and left it on his dad’s pristine patio.
“Steve. That’s amazing! Congratulations.” Eddie seemed genuinely excited for him and it brought a small smile to his face. “You look like you could really use a hug, man. Can I hug you?”
“Of course.” If he let himself hold on for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, Eddie allowed it.
Dinner was quiet. His uncle asked Eddie what he did for work and he enthusiastically explained he was a line cook and worked nights at a bar. Steve surreptitiously looked around to take in everyone’s expressions and quickly covered his mouth with his napkin. He actually enjoyed himself during a holiday dinner for the first time he could remember.
Eddie at one point threw an arm around the back of his chair and he leaned in a bit into him, catching the disapproving stares they got from the corner of his eye.
Pie was passed around and by then Steve had had another glass of wine or two. He reached over to thumb the whipped cream from the side of Eddie’s lip without thinking, before popping the thumb into his own mouth. Eddie’s eyes widened and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but he caught himself.
“Thanks, babe,” Eddie said with a chuckle.
After saying their awkward goodbyes to everyone, Steve walked Eddie to his van. He looked down at his feet, fiddling with his keys.
“Hey, um, this may be out of left field and let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Eddie waited for Steve to nod. “Do you want to come to my uncle’s with me tomorrow night? It’s just the two of us and he always volunteers to work the holiday. But we do a thing, you know. A-and he’s always bugging me to bring someone.”
Steve blinked. “Would it have to be a fake date? I’m not as skilled at that as you are.”
“No, I mean, it wouldn’t- god I suck. I’m actually asking, like for real. If that’s okay? Just be you. And I’ll just be me.”
“That’s very okay. I’d really like that.” He couldn’t hold back his smile. Taking the chance, he leaned in, Eddie meeting him in the middle to finally press their lips together.
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