#it could be with not ed i just need you in indy!!!!!

[rosenqvists]

RINUS VEEKAY - 2024 BitNile.com Grand Prix of Portland

[steddieas-shegoes]

love confessions in line

Another stupid little thing because I’m in the car and bored. It’s not edited or really anything much beyond just putting these boys in love in situations.

Rated t | tags: love confessions, established relationship, robin being so fed up with them

————————

“Why do we have to be here so early? My dinner hasn’t even digested properly yet,” Robin complained.

And, okay. It was cold and there were a lot of people standing in line outside of the only Walmart carrying the very specific guitar amp Eddie wanted. He’d called every Walmart in Indiana. Multiple times.

But he had to go all out for Christmas this year. Eddie had already said he’d gotten Steve something he’ll never outdo, never even believe. Obviously, that meant Steve had to do better than the Metallica hoodie that was stashed in his closet for the last four months.

“It’ll be worth it. There’s hardly anyone in line ahead of us and if we go straight to the electronics in the back—“

“You mean where everyone is going?” Robin interrupted, folding her arms across her chest.

Steve sighed.

“Yeah, well. I’ll run. It’ll be fine. I doubt anyone else here is interested in a guitar amp.”

As if the words ‘guitar amp’ were magic, someone who looked a lot like Eddie walked up to one of the security officers standing by the front doors.

Robin noticed at the same time as him.

“Is that…?”

“It can’t be. He said he was going fishing with Wayne in the morning and didn’t wanna end up stuck in crowds shopping,” Steve said.

But then the man turned back to the line.

“Steve?” Eddie yelled, eyes going wide when he realized Steve and Robin were there.

“Uh.”

“Um.”

“I thought you guys were going to Indy for this!” Eddie smiled as he walked up to them. “I don’t think this store will have what you’re lookin’ for.”

Steve panicked. There’s only one thing Eddie could be here for. He could go anywhere else. He could have stayed in Hawkins for that matter.

“Uh. Just wanted a change of scenery.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed as his smile fell slightly.

“O…kay. Well, I’ve got an amp to buy so I guess we’re all in this together now.”

Steve ignored Robin’s snort and mumbling.

Eddie glanced over at her with a questioning face.

“You two are unbelievable. Truly.”

“What? Why?” Eddie asked, genuinely curious.

His finger traced along the back of Steve’s hand subtly, out of sight of the people behind them in line.

“I.” Steve sighed.

Oh well. Maybe he could just try to get concert tickets the next time Ozzy came to Chicago.

“I was gonna get the amp for you for Christmas. I’ve been planning it for weeks,” Steve said, looking down at the ground.

Eddie was surprisingly quiet.

Absolutely no response.

After a full minute, Steve made eye contact with him.

He had tears building in his eyes and Steve felt himself start to tear up, too.

“You were?” Eddie choked out. “But this is-“

“The only place selling it on sale in the state, yeah.”

Robin was grumbling to herself again, but neither of them were paying attention anymore.

“How did you even know?” Eddie asked after a deep, calming breath.

“You mentioned it last month after a gig. Said you needed a new one anyways and this was top of the line or something. That a lot of the bands you like were switching to this kind for studio recording or whatever because of the…crisp? Sound? And then when no one else was selling it at all, I had to call around the Walmarts to see who had it on sale because $300 is a lot of money, Eds, and I wish I could afford that, but I don’t really have that lying around after paying for school and rent so when this place finally said they’d have it for $100, I made Robin promise to come with me since you’d be busy. And I guess you’re not that busy, but. I needed to do my best to get it.”

Eddie’s smile grew the longer Steve rambled. Robin was already walking away, probably back to Steve’s car, halfway through his speech.

“I love you.”

Steve’s jaw dropped in shock.

They’d been saying it in every way except this way for months, nearly a year, really.

It started as Steve taking care of Eddie when everyone else was busy taking care of the Upside Down.

It kept going as Steve was the one listening to Eddie slowly pick the guitar back up, working through the crying about his fingers not working right or his arm getting tired too quickly.

And then five months ago, Steve kissed him.

Took the plunge and kissed him.

They’d done everything together since. They’d become boyfriends. They came out to their group, together, always together.

And now, in a Walmart parking lot during the busiest shopping day of the year, Eddie was telling Steve he loved him.

“Because of the amp?” Steve asked, hesitant.

Eddie knew what he was really asking.

Because I’m buying you something nice?

“No, sweetheart. Because you listen to me. You know what makes me happy. You’re doing something for me that no one else would have even bothered to try to do.” Eddie laughed. “I have never wanted to kiss you as much as I want to right now.”

“Not even that time I wore a crop top and your boxers?”

Eddie groaned. “That was an outlier. You know how that affected me.”

“Oh, I sure do,” Steve smirked. “Too bad we’re in public.”

“The doors open in an hour right?” Eddie asked, checking his watch.

“Yep.”

“And then you have to take Robin to her parent’s house?”

“Probably should.”

“And then what?” Eddie asked, already knowing exactly what.

“And then I’ll come to the trailer and I’ll walk right to your room and hopefully-“ Steve cut himself off to whisper the next part. “You’ll be naked.”

Eddie’s brows raised. “You want me naked? What about Wayne being home?”

“Wayne’s been sleeping with ear plugs for months now. Can’t hear a thing,” Steve pats Eddie’s blushing cheek. “Said he didn’t need to hear what his nephew got up to.”

“We really should just move my stuff into your new place,” Eddie suggested for the fifth time in as many days.

Steve wasn’t opposed at all.

In fact, he’d planned on asking him to move in once he got more settled.

But.

“Wayne wanted another Christmas with you at home, baby. He won’t say it, but when I brought up you moving in with me, I thought he was actually gonna cry.”

“Yeah, yeah. With this new amp, he’ll change his mind.”

“What makes you think you get this amp before Christmas?” Steve put his hands on his hips.

“Because now I know you’re getting it!”

“Uh-huh. And it’s getting wrapped with your other gift to be opened on Christmas morning. No early gifts on my watch.”

“Steeeeeeve. Please! I could use it at our show next week!”

Steve shook his head. “Your amp works fine. Christmas is only a month from now.”

“You’re getting revenge on me,” Eddie pouted.

“Revenge for what?” Steve snorted.

“You know what.”

Steve did. He felt his cheeks and neck heat up with a blush.

“Fine. Yes. Maybe it’s a little bit revenge.”

Eddie huffed, but didn’t argue further.

“You know I love you, too, right?” Steve whispered.

And Eddie forgot about everything else except the way Steve was looking at him, like he needed Eddie to understand how much he loved him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I do.”

———————

Three days later, Steve set the amp up in the second bedroom of his rented house.

When Eddie came over, he pushed him into the room and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“You can play it here, but I’m still wrapping it up for Christmas and you aren’t allowed to bring it to shows until after. Okay?”

Eddie was bouncing on his toes and squeezing Steve’s hands so hard he was losing feeling.

“Okay! Thank you, thank you! I love you! Thank you!”

Eddie smacked a kiss on Steve’s cheek before pulling away and running to the amp.

“You need your guitar, honey,” Steve laughed.

“Right!” Eddie ran from the room to grab his guitar from his van.

Steve shook his head, but couldn’t help his fond smile as the front door banged open.

[starshideurfics]

Buzzed, Buzzing - part 2

part 1

Buzzed, Buzzing

JQ, you can’t go dropping TWO horny photoshoots on us in less than a week!

steddie, omegaverse, Buzzed part 2, mdni 🔞

Finally being with Eddie is a dream. At least for the week he’s in town, fully foregoing Steve’s guest room and its comfy mattress.

Instead, it’s a week of Eddie wrapped around Steve each night, skin touching skin, bodies sated in a bone-deep way Steve’s never felt before.

A week of waking up to Eddie’s lips on his neck, to whispers of, “Morning, Puppy,” and sleepy yawns, arms tugging him closer and closer.

A week of Robin saying, “I’m happy for you, truly, but could you try going five minutes without swapping spit?!” only for Eddie to look her dead in the eye and lick whatever part of Steve is closest to his mouth.

A week of Steve floating on a cloud of affection and hormones.

Then Eddie has to leave, head to Chicago and buckle down for long days filming.

Steve mopes their whole last morning, sneaking shirts out of Eddie’s suitcase until the alpha relents and dumps out his dirty laundry. “Put ‘em all in your nest, I can get new shirts.”

Steve purrs, gathers the shirts, and herds Eddie back to his room for a last quickie before Eddie’s Uber arrives.

Being apart sucks. They videochat daily, text constantly, but Steve still misses Eddie every second he’s gone. So, he’s back where he started, mooning over pics on his phone, scenting at Eddie’s boxers as he works three fingers into his aching pussy.

He’s holding out, but Steve is counting down the days until shooting wraps, when Eddie would fly straight to Indy.

Steve’s on his lunch break, typing out a response to Eddie’s latest text as he shove pretzel thins and hummus in his mouth, when his phone starts buzzing.

Robin is calling, from the other end of the building. “Hey, Robbie, need me to get you a coke zero?” he asks instead of saying hello.

“Don’t tell me you got rid of your Munson-stalking web alert, because that’s the only reason I can think of for why you aren’t freaking out!”

He did, not really needing it when he has Eddie checking in with him at least hourly. “What? Robin, I’m texting with Eddie right now, what do you think I missed?”

“Just, look him up; your ADHD gremlin boyfriend probably forgot to mention it!”

Steve opens google, starts typing Eddie’s name and only gets as far as “ED” before autofill finishes it for him.

A new photoshoot and accompanying interview. Steve gets caught by a photo of Eddie eating a peach. It’s such a thirst trap, but it makes Steve smile.

Besides, there are other notes, but Steve’s scent has always been peach-forward. It might be a coincidence. Steve doesn’t think it is.

He reads the interview; about his current project, lots on the movie coming out next month that filmed a year ago, and his costars including a chill cat.

But right under the peach picture is a question about his personal life, how he stays grounded and connected when he’s constantly moving around for work. 

Eddie starts, as he always does, with Wayne, his friends, his charity work, the arts scholarship he funds.

“The truth is that it’s all for my partner. Like, I want to put good into the world, help kids like me who didn’t have the best start in life, but my focus is on being good enough for him, being the kind of person he can be proud of.” 

The journalist asks him to elaborate.

She writes about Eddie’s smile, the small one where he averts his gaze, emotions too big to share. “I dunno, just that he’s got me beat by a mile—he’s a teacher, middle school, you know, the worst time in a kid’s life. And he loves it!”

More words on Eddie’s laugh and kind eyes.

“So, yeah, the people I love, the people who love me, that’s how I keep my head on straight. That’s what it’s all about, right? Family, friends. Pack.”

Steve’s vision goes blurry on the last little paragraph. He wipes the tears from his eyes and pulls out his phone.

Just read the article! I’ve always been proud of you ❤️

Three little dots appear immediately to show Eddie’s typing, but they disappear and instead Steve’s phone buzzes with a call.

“I forgot that was coming out today! I should have warned you!”

Steve grins. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thank you. And it wasn’t too much? I’m trying to keep my private life private, but if I can’t talk to you, I wanna talk about you. All the time. Because I fucking miss you, Puppy.”

“It’s okay,” Steve reiterates. “I miss you, too. So much. Wish you were here.”

The whine he lets out makes Eddie chuckle, low and dark. “Wish I had you here, could show you how much I miss you. At least you’ve got some new visual aides, but maybe tonight, when I call you could show me… Get your fingers wet for me.”

Steve lets out another breathy whine. “Yeah, want that.” He presses his legs together, tries to tamp down the feelings of desire before he gets too wet at work. “Miss your fingers, though.”

“Good,” Eddie husks. Steve can hear him lick his lips, so he knows Eddie’s nervous. “And it was supposed to be a surprise. But I’ve got the weekend off. My flight gets in at 9 on Friday night.”

Now expanded into a full fic! Read here

[oneforthemunny]

take it to the end of the line |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 11

prompt: a guilt trip, a lapse of judgement, a blow up. or you and eddie's first fight.

contains: age gap relationship. eddie is 42 and reader is 26. angst. make up will be in part 2 of this but angst for now :(

"Why would you do this?"

Eddie's eyes were hard, cold, stern, an unfamiliar look to you. Normally he looked at you with nothing short of adoration. Even when he was frustrated with you, his muddy eyes always held a flicker of light. Not now.

He was furious. You couldn't blame him. You would be mad too given the circumstances.

"Ed, please, I just-"

"You put my daughter in danger." Eddie's voice was cold and cutting, brows furrowing so deep, eyes sharp and boring right through you, slicing you down the middle and leaving you shivering and exposed.

"I didn't-"

"You did." Eddie hisses, jaw flexing. The vein on his neck stood prominent, protruding against his reddened neck and chest. There was no room for argument with his tone, it was final.

"Eddie, please, just-just..." Your lip wobbled. Taking a cleansing breath to keep that familiar burn from rising in your chest, you looked at him, pleading and pitiful. "I swear I didn't... I just wanted Brielle to-to like me." You admitted with a shuddering breath.

Eddie didn't falter, face staying ever stoic and hard. "Like you?" He asked, unbothered by your cringe at his tone. "You wanted Brielle to like you, so you deliberately went against something I said no to, and took her two hours away and put her in danger?"

Your stomach twisted and dropped in uncomfortable guilt. When he put it like that, it sounded so bad.

It wasn't that bad, really.

Well, maybe it was.

Brielle and Madeline had came to you three days ago, begging you to take them to a concert in Indianapolis. Some Indie band playing at a hole in the wall bar, and they needed an adult to take them. Eddie had said no, of course, a bar and a band and his underage daughter was not mixing. It was Eddie's weekend so Gina couldn't save Brielle either.

"Please, it would be cool of you." Brielle pleaded alongside your own little sister. "You know my dad will listen to you. He totally won't care that we went. He doesn't even have to know."

"Yeah, c'mon, you fuckin' owe us." Madeline added, giving you a less than impressed pointed look, one only a little sister could produce. "You're banging' Brie's dad. You put a strain on our friendship. This is us bonding, you have to help us."

You rolled your eyes because you knew she was just being dramatic, a little shit like she'd always been. Yet you worried that her statement held some truth, disguised under sarcastic, dramatic tones and eye rolls, you were with Eddie and it had shifted their relationship. You held some regret about that, some anxieties that appeared every time Brielle would cut her eyes at you.

You held so much anxiety about it, that you opted to take them. Declaring it a girl's day- a bonding night at your apartment to Eddie. You felt nauseous with guilt at how excited he had been, eyes lighting up and dimples deep in a grin when Brielle bobbed her head in excitement.

Then, Friday came around, and you were taking the girls to Indianapolis to some sketchy club you would never go to alone, watching as the bouncer at the door didn't even check IDs. It was noisy, smoky, and they served to everyone. You had drawn the line at them drinking, knowing Eddie and your own parents would have you six foot under if they found out. If. You clung to that if, praying things would go your way.

It never did.

Your cell phone buzzed, Eddie's name flashing across the screen, your face dropping slightly. You decided to decline, texting him something about 'it's a girls night! brie says no boys allowed lol!'.

You were smug in your cleverness over your boyfriend. He'd be none the wiser, then it rang again. You let it ring. Again. You let it go to voicemail, tummy twisting in knots.

From: Eddie

'I'm at your apartment now. Where r u?'

Your heart plummeted, hands shaking when you scrambled for the phone. You scanned the audience, finding the two girls easily near the front, dragging them out frantically.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Dad's gonna kill me, oh my god." Brielle whined, looking down at her own phone to see a string of calls from her father and mother.

Your hands shook, unlocking the door to let the girls in, before standing outside the car to call Eddie.

He was angry, furious, fuming at you. Voice dripping in venom and anger through the line. He yelled at you. Eddie never yelled at you.

"Eddie, I-I was with them!" You tried, throwing your hands out in exasperation. You were scrambling for reason here, to sway him, a scrap of some understanding or a glimmer of his usual affection.

Eddie's brows shot up in challenge. "I wasn't going to let anything happen to them, ok? That's why I went with them!"

"That was fuckin' careless."

"No," You shot back. "If I was careless, I would've just made the lie, and let them go by themselves. Let them buy alcohol when we got there, or-"

Eddie's hand slammed down on the coffee table in front of the two of you, the wood shaking and smack echoing into the room. You jumped, wide eyed with a small gasp looking up at him.

Eddie stood, pinching the bridge of his nose, breathing in slow, letting it out in shaky, harsh puffs. "You need to leave." Eddie gritted.

Your heart plummeted. "W-What?"

"You need to leave." Eddie hissed, eyes flashing at you with so much anger it made your heart drop. "Leave. Now. I don't want to see you right fucking now. I'm gonna say some shit I regret."

Your lip wobbled, stammering around broken breaths and words. "Eddie, please, I-I really didn't-"

"Brielle is not your child, ok?" Eddie roared. "That was not your call to make whether it was ok or not. That is my child, and you are my girlfriend. I said no, and you fuckin' disrespected me. You hurt me. Me." He shoved a finger into his chest, eyes wild and electric when they scorched down at you.

You were frozen in spot, stammering and sputtering for words, chilled from his icy, mean tone. "I already went through this shit with Gina, and I'm not going through that again." Eddie snapped. "I thought you'd actually care about me-"

"-Don't say that." Your voice cracked, head shaking furiously. "I do care about you, Eddie. I'm sorry. I just, I wanted Brielle to-"

"I don't give a shit if you wanted Brielle to like you or not." Eddie growled. "You shouldn't be trying to get Brielle to like you at the expense of disrespecting me. Putting my baby in danger. I mean, fuck, what if Gina found out?" Eddie roared, throwing his hand out.

"Do you realize what she'd do to me? She'd take my ass to court and say I let my girlfriend take my underage daughter to a bar and-and she'd get Brielle taken away from me." Eddie's face crumbled, brows furrowing and lips pressing together to keep himself from wavering.

Your heart shattered, breaking and sinking deep into the pit of your tummy. You hadn't thought of that, truthfully.

"I-I'm so, so sorry." You shuddered out in a quiet whisper, tears streaming down you cheeks, dripping under your chin and down to your lap.

Eddie looked at you, eyes glassy and red rimmed of his own. He looked so upset, so hurt. You felt sick.

"You need to leave." Eddie said firmly, jaw locking and shoulders rolling to straighten his posture. "I can't... I need some time to cool off."

Some time. It was a haunting ring in your ears that left you dizzy, overwhelmed with fear and dread and guilt.

You nodded, swallowing to hold back your own tears. Shaky hands reached for your purse, walking to the door on numb legs. Eddie still held the door open for you, still walked you to the porch. The gesture made you sob, a strangled cry ripping from your throat.

"Eddie, I-I really am so sorry. Really." You sniffled, turning to him before you got into your car.

Eddie nodded, curtly but didn't speak. Didn't tell you to drive safe or that he loved you. Didn't tap on the window and point for you to roll it down, before leaning in to smooch you sloppy and sweet, your head pressed back into the head rest.

Not this time.

Eddie simply crossed his arms over his chest, not aggressive but protective, shielding himself from you. You crumbled, a shaky, pathetic sob breaking through you while you slammed the door.

You couldn't see, vision clouded with tears, but you couldn't sit there and watch Eddie look at you, so sad and hurt, knowing you were to blame. You and your stupid actions. You parked on the next street over, sobbing angrily, fists slamming and punching the wheel while you screamed, hurt and angry. Anguished cries and screams that ripped through your body, racking your frame with hard sobs until you were hiccuping.

You'd hurt Eddie.

He'd compared you to Gina... Gina. You felt physically ill at the revelation, shaking your head before starting on the main road. Your heart felt heavy, stomach a pit of knots and nerves. You knew you'd fucked up. You knew it was over, and the worse part is you had no one to blame but yourself. No, this time it wasn't him, wasn't another girl, wasn't communication issues, or Gina, or distance, or even the age. There was no excuses you could use this time, no face to save, because this was all on you.

This was all your fault.

[stevesbipanic]

For my lovely Cass @henderdads because I owe you a happy, birthday fic 🎂

Steve had a weird relationship with his birthday.

When he was little his birthday was a big event. His mum would wake him up with a big pile of pancakes that he'd get to eat in bed and wouldn't need to worry about getting syrup on the sheets. Then his parents would load him up in the car and they'd go to Indianapolis where they would have lunch in the big park and then his dad would take him to the biggest toystore he'd ever seen and little Steve would pick anything he wanted. He would always fall asleep in the car ride home and his parents would carry him upstairs and tuck him into bed.

Once he started school his parents would throw a big pool party for him and his classmates with cake and presents, one year he even had a bouncy castle. Tommy would get to sleep over and they would get to stay up watching movies and eating popcorn.

Steve could remember the year it all changed.

When he was twelve his parents had to leave for work at the last minute, some emergency Steve didn't really understand. They apologised that they'd miss Steve's birthday but they'd make up for it when they came back and left him money so he and his friends could get pizza or go to the movies while they were gone. It was ok, it felt weird not getting birthday pancakes, he just made himself some cereal and hung out with Tommy and Carol. When they came back they still went to Indy but it felt different, felt forced.

The next year they missed it again, they still left money but there was no Indy makeup trip on their return.

The following year they didn't even realise they missed it until they came back, they gave him some money for pizza, they were leaving again.

By the time he was sixteen he didn't expect anything. He made himself pancakes now, still ate them up in bed, he was a lot better at cooking now. He hung out with Tommy, took Nancy on a date. It was fine, it was just another day but with pancakes.

Robin brought back the magic of birthdays.

When she discovered what his birthday was she insisted she get to plan his day. Steve had no plans so he agreed easily with his best friend.

The night before his birthday she slept over, they crashed on the couch together under a pile of blankets, the TV still on. Steve woke up the next day to noise in the kitchen. He saw Robin making pancakes and almost cried.

"Hey birthday boy! Sit, sit, these are almost done, my mum always makes me pancakes on my birthday so I thought you'd like the same."

"Y-yeah thanks, Robin."

They ate their pancakes as Robin told him about her plans for the day, she had convinced Jon and Nance to carpool the kids to the quarry and they were going to have a picnic down there with the whole little family.

It was a perfect day.

Steve spent his twentieth birthday in a hospital room. Eddie had been here for weeks, Max just down the hall, Steve barely left, only to help volunteers and get a change of clothes. At least Eddie was awake, Steve loved talking to him, learning everything about him. He didn't even realise his birthday had arrived until Robin arriving with a little Tupperware of pancakes.

"Didn't think I'd miss the big day did you? You're old now dingus the big 2-0."

Steve cracked a smile, his eyes stung a bit with tears seeing the pancakes.

"Thanks, Robbie."

"Stevie, you didn't tell me it was your birthday, shouldn't you be doing something fun."

Steve smiled at Eddie softly, "I'm exactly where I want to be, Eds."

The three of the shared the pancakes and swapped stories of birthdays past.

Steve could never pick a favourite birthday but the morning of his 21st came pretty close. He woke up just as the sun started filtering through the curtains of his tiny apartment. Their soft rays gently stirring him. He opened his eyes to see the space beside him empty, he was confused briefly before the bedroom door opened.

Eddie cracked a soft smile as he gazed at his boyfriend.

"Good morning, sweetheart, special delivery for the birthday boy."

That morning they shared a big stack of pancakes in their bed and didn't worry about getting syrup on the sheets. Pretty close to a perfect birthday.

[formosusiniquis]

diana prince and stevie h.: variations on a theme

Inspired by this post by @secondconcussion cause I saw it earlier this week and couldn't stop turning it around in my mind

also on ao3 for easier reading

It's not Eddie's fault he got lost.

That's the first thing he wants to get out of the way. He'll take his lumps if he has to, Uncle Wayne can be a surly fucker when he's woken up before his alarm, "Not all those who wander are lost, Ed, isn't that what you said. Just wander your way back home." But Eddie's heart is gonna wait to be warmed that Wayne loves him enough to quote Lord of the Rings until after he's back in the part of Hawkins he recognizes.

"It's the ‘not all’ that I need you to wrap your head around old man, cause I, your dearest nephew, am very lost."

"Your my only nephew, and gettin' less dear by the second," Wayne lied like a liar.

He wasn't above begging, not when he'd already walked fuck knows how far to fuck knows where. "Please, Wayne!"

He hears a grumbled sigh and knows he's won, "Where are ya?"

"Um, woods?" He can hear the thunk of the phone being slammed against something hard, but at least Wayne doesn't hang up.

Hawkins is a small town, by Eddie's standards, but it expands in strange ways. Every summer he spent with Wayne it seemed to unfurl in different directions, a flower blooming a little different each year. It was not the gridded out cityscape he'd grown up in.

So when Eddie came down from Indy every summer to escape parents who managed to toe the line of awful just well enough that CPS kept their noses out of the Munson’s business, he would wander but never far. Just far enough to find the park and the playground that Wayne hadn't thought to mention. Far enough to find a corner store where he can pocket the extra candy bar he couldn't afford with the spare change he had -- and he wasn't going to put back the magazine he was buying, Wayne had nothing good to read and he couldn't make a library card yet. Far enough to find an abandoned picnic bench to smoke up at so his borrowed bedroom didn't smell like weed. Far enough to make some friends.

Only now that he's twenty, and some change. Now that he's graduated high school, third time lucky. Now that he’s decided to leave the trouble he could feel stirring in the city for someplace that always felt more like home. Now that he is an official Hawkins resident, he's wandered a little too far.

And it's not his fault, but he's not gonna tell Wayne that.

Cause the thing is, Eddie has always thought better when his feet were moving. After an hour of pacing around his trailer, still full with half unpacked boxes of things he hadn't realized he'd collected -- boxes that make him feel like a caged animal, that he'll be living out of for the next two months at least -- he has to leave. His first mistake, trusting that his feet will lead him around the parts of Hawkins he knows.

His mind twists plot hooks and campaign NPCs around his head, determined to get ready for when his friends come around later that afternoon with the pack of freshmen, now sophomores, that they'd adopted. He won't apologize for wanting to impress a new group of kids and wanting to convince Jeff he wouldn’t be sorry about passing off his DM mantle to a guy they used to only see two months out of the year. As he's thinking about a sect of female warriors -- a mix of barbarians and rangers, buff and leveled way above where the party will be -- and whether it'll just come across as horny the way the DILF-y elven mages he'd tried to include last year did, he sees her. Notices her, more like; a nymph, a dryad, a goddess sprung fully formed from his imaginings.

She crosses his path at a light jog. The shortest green athletic shorts he's ever seen clinging to the shape of an ass he could bounce a quarter off of. He can see the way her broad and muscled shoulders shift beneath the white sports bra she's wearing. It's the cool down portion of her workout, he guesses, from the way he can mostly maintain the small distance between them and the way sweat runs in rivulets down her back and trim waist. He wants to lick it off of her. She looks like she was built to fire a bow or break him in half, a Kinsey Five, it's the women who could kill him that always capture his attention.

He trails behind her, mind still turning over his session prep for the day and maybe thinking a little bit about whether she had a boyfriend. Hindsight will grant him that it's weird, the way he trailed behind her like a stray dog like this. But then, as he's sitting in the cab of Wayne's truck, he'll remember the way her thick, muscled thighs moved, how she bounced on the balls of her toes. He'll remember the way her ponytail swished over her shoulder as she glanced back at him, his first look at the lady's fair face, the way she'd smirked at him before bounding off of the roadside into the woods.

So totally not his fault he got lost. It probably happens all the time. The payphone on the opposite side of the road for sorry suckers like him who fall into her snare. Shit, maybe he should have stayed put, he hadn’t been thinking about why she might have a snare.

Wayne found him eventually, even if he spent the drive back to Forest Hills muttering about how Eddie had even found his way over to that side of town. How next time he aimed to get lost he should bring a map or a compass or a dog, and find his own way back. So he doesn’t ask his uncle about the mystery girl that could snap him over her knee like a dry twig, cause in the mood he’s in right now Wayne might go find her and embarrass the hell out of him.

Later, when Jeff and Gareth and Joey have piled onto the broken in couch that Wayne had given him. When the first teen that he doesn’t know knocks a little too quietly on his door, but grins wide enough to split his face that they’ve got a new campaign and a place to play over the summer. When they’re waiting for the last one to arrive, Eddie thinks about asking about her. She had to have overlapped with them in high school for at least a year or two.

Eddie knows already though that he won’t. Plus there’s a chance they’ll tell him anyway. He’s been on the receiving end of enough ‘Is that supposed to be Ronnie James Dio’s’ and ‘Wait are you describing Sigourney Weaver’s’ to hope that once he starts describing the Amazonian warrior who will hopefully be haunting his dreams he’ll get a ‘Doesn’t that sound just like…’

And yeah, maybe he’s starting to get a little impatient. But with the way he’s got the campaign laid out it will be at least two hours in before he gets a chance to describe her. At least, and he has to know who she is tonight.

“Dude,” Gareth starts, probably sick of the way Eddie’s bouncing his leg, “where’s Dustin?”

Will, the quietest so far of the new recruits looks almost too concerned, “He knows where it is right? Has anyone-”

Sinclair, he thinks the group arrived in mass and he’s not sure he’s partnered faces with the rush of names correctly just yet, pulls a walkie talkie with bells and whistles he didn’t even know you could attach from a backpack on the floor. “Dustin, come in, what’s your ETA?”

The tension in their corner of the room ratchets up enough to have Eddie’s palms start to sweat. Will brings his thumbnail up to his mouth, worrying it enough that it’s sure to start bleeding soon. “I’m sure it’s-” Sinclair starts to say, interrupted by a clattering outside then a bang to his door that yanks on the frayed edges of Eddie’s nerves.

He feels a little like a squirrel trying to cross a highway, the way the babies about to join the party are watching him with the knowing terror you watch something about to die.

Except the thing at his door is not Jason or Freddy, it’s a half-pint with a white hat pulled low over his head. The missing Dustin, who has no problem bullying his way through Eddie’s now open door.

“Ew, dude, why are you sweaty?”

"Because, Michael, I had to bike all the way across town." Eddie, and it looks like half the group, is about to ask some variation on why when Dustin holds up a hand shutting them all up masterfully "Because," he stresses each letter like they're what's wronged him, "five minutes before we were supposed to leave mom catches Stevie gossiping with Robin and she totally flips out about how she didn't take Stevie in just to watch her get herself killed. And then when I asked who was taking me here, Ma said she 'didn't buy me that bike just to have it sit in the garage!'"

The kid is incensed so it doesn't feel like the time to ask what the fuck is going on. Not when everyone else snorts and snickers at Dustin's expense. "Damn Stevie really fucked up if Dustybun got sent out on his own," Gareth jeers.

"Your mom does know what Stevie keeps in her trunk right? And she ruptured Preston's balls when he grabbed her ass last year," Lucas points out.

Hawkins, Eddie is learning, might just be full of girls to fall in love with.

"Stop saying that like it's hot, that's my sister you're talking about. I'll tell Max."

"Max still thinks Stevie's hot, dude."

"Are we gonna have to walk home just because Stevie's done something stupid again?" Mike complains.

"You didn't care about Stevie doing something dumb when she climbed that tree in heels to get you down after you got drunk at winter formal. Or when she took her bat to those… things." Lucas shares a sly grin with Will, who looks torn between feeling awkward at the inclusion and the teenage bloodlust for giving your friends a hard time. "You can just admit you feel weird about having the same taste as your-"

"Oh my god!" Dustin shouts cutting Lucas off and sending the room, Eddie included into a burst of snorting laughter. "Dustin Henderson," Eddie gets himself under control enough to accept the offered hand, "excited to have a DM who isn't a total asshole."

"Eddie, sorry about your hot sister. Not sorry for being a new kind of asshole Dungeon Master. Let’s see them character sheets, kiddies, this ain’t your mommy’s book club, we aren’t just here to gossip.”

Things go off pretty well, for a seven person table where he barely knows half the players. Lucas has an impressive tactical mind, Mike is a passionate role player, Will has a character built so well it’s basically an art form, and Dustin is a wild card who can’t decide whether he wants to win or to walk into the obvious trap just to see what will happen. It’s not hard to adjust, even if the way Jeff keeps looking at him when he describes new NPC's is throwing him off his game a little bit. He can duck behind his DM screen and recollect himself, but seriously what the fuck.

“She stands taller than the tallest of you, bronzed skin and hair, imperious, she looks at you, Sir Jeffrey, and offers you a deal, ‘Best our strongest warrior and you can take him back with you. Fail and his impunity will be punished by death.’” He lets the threat hang heavy in the air, all eyes on him and desperately hanging on to every word. Minus Jeff who was giving him that look again. “And that’s where we’ll end things this week, boys.” Cause he really, really hadn’t expected any of them to just straight up steal the enchanted bow of the Amazons that they needed to fell the dragon; and he really, really hadn’t planned for the botched stealth rolls.

Everyone grumbles as they pack up their things, it’s music to his ears. A four hour session -- if he didn’t count the hour they riffed about character builds and backstory once Eddie had his hands on their sheets -- and they’re still itching for more. It’s almost enough to have him just call a dinner break, so he can hole up in his room and churn something out. But someone is beating out shave and a haircut on his front door before he can change his mind.

“It’s probably Wayne getting revenge,” Eddie says, “woke him up early this afternoon.” He taps back his two bits, swinging open the door, expecting to see Wayne’s smug looking face grinning back at him. He’ll take his ‘Don’t feel too good getting interrupted in the middle a something, does it?’ with grace.

Only instead of an old man with two days of scruff, the door opens on his modern day Aphrodite. A worn, grey athletic shirt bragging about being a 1985 Hawkins Swim Team Region Champ has covered the white sports bra, cropped it shows off a distracting sliver of toned stomach above a short green tennis skirt, and her perky ponytail is down in loose waves around a mole kissed face.

And he’s gaping like a fucking idiot at her.

“Dust, wanna introduce me to your new friend?” she asks, voice bourbon smooth as molten eyes rake down his body from the doorway.

“Eddie, this is my sister.”

Like her brother before her, Stevie has no problem shouldering her way through the door. Where Dustin had slipped through on a size difference technicality like a halfling, she places a warm hand against his shoulder and gently pushes until his feet and brain get it together enough to move with her. Even then they’re still screaming, god he’s positive she could have just picked him up. He really wants her to pick him up, maybe push him against the wall a little.

“Hi Eddie,” she says. Still in the doorway they’re hedged in by boxes marked ‘Kitchen Shit’ and ‘Unpack this first asshole’ breathing the same air almost, all because Eddie in his genius had dropped the last load of stuff from the back of the van right by the door. “Are we going to be seeing more of you around?”

“Obviously,” Dustin cuts in, “we only just finished the start of a totally epic campaign.”

“Obviously,” Stevie repeats, with a mocking tilt to her gorgeous smile. One he recognizes from this morning.

Jeff is still watching him, a set of eyes boring hard into the side of his face. “Eddie just moved to Hawkins, just spent summers here before.”

Something about that softens her. Her expression, her posture, easing into something a little less coiled to pounce but no less flirtatious. “To Hawkins?”

Shit, and she’s looking at him like he’s an idiot; but like a cute idiot that she’ll maybe want to put down on his knees. “Well the best band I ever played with is still in high school here, and a success story always sounds better coming out of a small town.”

“You’re in a band, huh?”

Dustin wrestles himself in the middle again, and it says a lot about his tenacity that he’s managed to rock Stevie back against the cardboard. “Whatever this is, I don’t like it and it needs to stop.”

“Load your bike up in the trunk then, shithead, and you won’t have to see it,” she fires back. He does push past her out the door, trying to let it slam shut behind him when she catches it in lightning fast reflex, “Scratch the paint cause you’re being a dick and your ass is grass!”

The rest of the sophomores are slow to pack up their remaining things, valuing gossip more than trying to comfort their friend on losing another soldier in the war of ‘thinks his big sister is the babest babe to ever hit Hawkins.’ 

“You should come to practice some time, band practice, for the um band."

Somebody behind him snorts, hears a whispered, "For the um band," that's probably meant to be a mimicry of him.

"Eddie's lead guitar," Jeff says, from a place of true friendship or pity. It's hard to tell.

Her eyes light up with a mischief, hair swinging as she cocks her head, and he can hear the requisite, ‘wow you must be so good with your hands,’ as clearly as if she had said it. Instead she says, “Gremlins, go get in the car. Tell Dustin, Ma’s pissed he didn't take his helmet and he should know first hand the dangers of head trauma.” It’s an inside joke, an unfunny one, from the way she grins as they grumble and groan and tell her to fuck off. Trooping out the door between him and Stevie they each let her pat them on the back or ruffle their hair, a little attendance check on the way to the car.

The trailer door shuts behind them with a slam, maybe not an attitude issue then and something to add to his to do list, but Stevie hasn’t left with them. “If you’re interested in what Hawkins has to offer, I could show you around.” She says casually. Conversationally. A comment for the room at large before she leans into Eddie’s space, warm breath against the side of his face making him shiver as she whispers, “I take the same run through town every day, and I always wanted a puppy to follow me home.”

Eddie is lost. In visions of the girl who just twirled out of his place on her heel after completely rocking his world. Has lost. His mind, his heart, and hopefully his status as single. But there are worse things he can think of than being lost in Hawkins.

[waratah-moon]

can I request some dad!eddie?

"If you can't sleep, do you wanna have sex?" Pairing: dad!eddie x mom!reader (gremlinverse) WC: 2.5k Warnings: SMUT 18+ (oral f receiving, unprotected sex - established relationship), mentions of vomiting (sick toddler), tooth rotting fluff, no y/n masterlist / send me a message 💌 / read on ao3

You looked at the alarm clock on your bedside table: 3:03am. Indie had been awake complaining of a sore tummy all night. You'd rubbed her back, given her pepto-bismol, read her a story, you'd even given her some of those ginger chews you kept in the cupboard for when Wayne came over. She'd only just fallen asleep, but you weren't sure it would last.

"How is she?"

"She threw up so she should be feeling better."

"Poor Gremlin, what do you think did it?"

"Part of me is thinking the chocolate milkshake, cheeseburger, apple pie and ice-cream, and two butterfingers didn't mix well together."

Eddie had taken Indie on a daddy-daughter date earlier that night; starting at her favourite diner off I-69 and ending at the arcade. Indie was beyond happy that he’d won her Wish Bear stuffed toy and it instantly took place of pride on her bed. "Yeah that's my bad. I can't say no to her."

"You need to learn," you groaned, rubbing your eyes with heels of your palms. "She'd four, Eds. Her brain isn't connected to her stomach yet."

"I'm sorry, it's those big eyes. She's got superpowers."

You huffed, pulling back the covers and grabbing your book from the bedside table. "Seems her superpower tonight is keeping me awake. I'm gonna go read on the couch."

"Wait, baby," he reached for your waist, pulling himself up so his bare chest was pressed against your back. He pushed your hair aside, exposing your neck. You could feel the faint prickle of his stubble against your skin. "If you can't sleep, do you wanna have sex?"

"Our daughter just vomited, which I had to clean up by the way, and you're asking if I want to fuck you?"

"Was more thinking you could lie back and relax and I'd fuck you, but I'm fine with whatever."

"Oh, sorry, of course, your way makes more sense."

"C'mon baby, please? This is the first night in ages she hasn't slept in our bed."

It was true, Indie had been clingier than usual lately. According to Mrs. Sampson next door that was completely natural for her age group, both her sons went through the same thing at her age. You still thought that maybe you weren’t doing enough, that your increased work hours and relying on your friends for babysitting made you a bad mom.

"I'm not in the mood right now."

"Okay, okay," Eddie stopped kissing your neck, his hands slipping under your tee-shirt to your shoulders. "How about I just give you a massage instead? You've been working so hard lately."

"That'd actually be nice," you sighed as his fingers kneaded a knot from your shoulders.

"C'mere, take your top off and lay down," he pushed the hem of your top over your head and you tossed it aside, laying flat on your stomach.

Eddie began rubbing your back, using just the right amount of pressure to relax your muscles. You groaned when he moved up your spine, his fingers loosening the tense knots between your shoulder blades and at the base of your neck. His hands worked down, sending tingles up your spine when he moved along your ribcage to your lower back. He squeezed your ass through the fabric of your sleep shorts before kneading the backs of your thighs and down to your calves. When he got to your feet, he picked one up, his thumbs pressing into the arch of your foot. He was hitting all the right pressure points; the arch, the heel, the balls of your toes. His touch was making all the days worries fade away. He switched to the other foot, repeating the motions. It was rare that you got to spend this much time alone together, and you were just waiting for your daughter to ruin the moment by calling out. But she didn't.

"Alright, on your back," he instructed. You made a noise of surprise and he added, "I'm not done, roll over."

You did as he asked, and went straight to squeezing your breasts. "Eddie!" It came out as a whisper-squeal, your body tensing.

"What? It's a full service massage, that includes taking care of the girls," he rolled your nipple between his fingers, and it instantly hardened. "C'mon, I know this is feeling good."

You hummed, caving to his motions and you sank back into the mattress.

He pressed his lips to the breast he wasn't fondling, leaving kisses against the skin before sucking on the nipple, his tongue flicking against the bud.

Your hands found their way into his hair, holding him against your chest. "I know what you're doing."

"Hmm?" He caught your eye, widening his in feigned ignorance.

"You're trying to get me wet so I'll let you fuck me."

"I would never," he scoffed, still toying with your nipple. "And the fact that you think so lowly of me that I would purposely try and turn you on for my own gain." He clicked his tongue, "that’s just mean, baby.”

“Save the speech, Brando. It worked.”

His eyes lit up. “It worked?” He noticed your smirk and coughed, raising his brow, “I mean, what worked?”

“Wafer thin ice, Edward,” you pulled his head up to meet your lips and kissed him.

His mouth worked slow and sweet against yours and you could still taste toothpaste on his tongue. He smelled like apricot, the scent of your shampoo that he always said he never used, but it seemed to run out too quickly for just one person. You weren’t mad about it, though. You knew he only used it when he was missing you.

You and Eddie hadn’t had a lot of time together recently, let alone time alone. He’d taken extra hours at the garage and you were working overtime at the office, both trying to put away enough savings to buy your first house.

You lifted your hips as his hands slipped beneath your shorts, allowing the fabric to fall down your thighs. "Wanna take my time with you."

You let him push your thighs open, settling himself between your legs. "Not too long, Eds. I'm tired."

"We can just go to sleep sweetheart, I don't mind."

"No, no, I wanna. Just gentle tonight please, nothing rough."

“Alright baby, nice and slow. I’ll get you off first, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed along you sternum, trailing his lips across you stomach and down the inside of your thighs. His hair tickled your pubic bone as he sucked a hickey in the crease of your thigh.

“Eddie!” You hissed, your hand finding its way into his hair and pulling his face up to meet yours. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean ‘what am I doing?’ You know what I’m doing. I’m the only person who’s going to see it.”

“I have an appointment with the gynaecologist tomorrow!”

“That’s tomorrow?” He grimaced, eyes sheepish. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s proof your sexually active, right?”

“I think the proof of that is the four year old in the other room.”

“I’ll stop.”

“No, no,” you sighed, smoothing his hair back. “Just some warning next time. Keep going.”

“You sure?” He still had his palms keeping your thighs spread, the light from the alarm clock reflecting in his eyes.

“Yes Eddie! Seriously my vagina is on display here, just please eat me out already.”

“Alright. Can I just say, for the record, your pussy is very cute.”

“Cute? It’s suppose to be sexy.”

“She is sexy! But she’s also cute.” He placed a kiss right above your clit before licking a stripe up your centre. “And she tastes incredible.”

You tried to roll your eyes but the tingling feeling you were getting from Eddie sucking on your clit knocked all the sarcasm out of your body.

He was alternating between licking and sucking, and you knew he was just warming you up. He was waiting for that hitch in you breath, the shuddering of your thighs that would tell him which motion to stick to to bring you to orgasm.

Right now it was the combination of his curling fingers and the circling of his tongue that made your stomach flutter and a little yelp escape from your throat.

“Oh, that’s what’s doing it tonight, huh?”

“Fuck, stop talking, just keep doing that.”

“I love it when you’re desperate f’me sweetheart, really adds to my ego.”

“Eddie I swear to god, please shut the fuck up,” your voice shook, the edges rough. You didn’t mind his dirty talk, but right now you needed him to keep moving his tongue.

He let you push his head close against your centre. As his tongue worked against you, you felt the familiar heat in the pit of your stomach, the heat that made your legs weak and shot pins and needles down to your toes. You breath came out in short, ragged gasps as he held your thighs down against the mattress. He let you ride out your orgasm, only stopping his movements when your breath slowed and your body relaxed.

When you finally opened your eyes, Eddie was staring at you doe eyed, his chin resting on your stomach. “Good?”

You let out a small puff of air through your nose, “C’mere.” You knew he was waiting for you to tell him how good he makes you feel. Even after all these years together he still needed the validation. “That was perfect, baby.” He hummed against your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the stubble on his chin scratching against your skin.

He pulled off his boxers and you could see he was already hard and reddened at the tip, barely visible in the low light.

He pushed himself through your folds, using the slickness of your arousal to ease himself into your tight cunt.

He stilled, the tip of his cock barely breaching your hole. "Shit, baby. I love how fucking incredible you feel around me. Is this okay?"

"Yeah, Eds. Keep going."

He buried himself deeper within you and you let out breath as you felt your walls flutter and stretch around him. "God, I missed this. You feel so fucking good, Jesus H Christ."

He moved to thrust within you, but you held his hips still. "Hang on, just stop a minute. I just want to feel you."

He lasted about five breathes before he groaned, his hips stuttered, "baby it feels too good, I have to move."

"Just give me a minute, Eds," you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheek bones, guiding his eyes to meet yours. "Just breath." You could feel him sitting deep in your belly, the ridges of his cock filling you out.

"I can feel all of you it's insane."

"That's the point, I love feeling this close to you."

"Sweetheart, I don't think we can get any closer." You wrapped your legs around his hips, your feet resting on his ass and pulling his pelvis flush against you. "Please, just let me cum and we can stay like this for as long as you want."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

It didn't take long for Eddie to finish, only about five minutes of slow thrusts and your fingertips scratching his scalp. He'd told you before that this was his favourite way to have sex; slow and meaningful with you whispering sweet nothings beneath him, touching every part of his skin you could get your hands on.

He kept his promise, staying deep inside you once he finished, stroking you hair. "It's crazy how in love with you I am."

"Yeah? I'm pretty batshit about you too."

He propped himself up on his elbow, raising his eyebrow. "Batshit?"

"Insane. I was trying to be cute," you tried to counter with a pout which Eddie instantly pounced on, kissing it off your lips.

"You are cute. And sexy. So sexy. And smart. And beautiful. And compassionate. And brave. And-"

You squished his cheeks between the palms of your hands and pecked his lips. "Okay, okay, this could go on forever but I wanna sleep so let's clean up so we can cuddle."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You'd just fallen into that sweet space between awake and asleep when you heard the door creak open. "Mama?" You sat up to see Indie in the doorway holding her new stuffed care bear by its foot. "I want to sleep here."

Eddie spoke before you had a chance to form an excuse. "Not tonight, Gremlin. Mama's got to get up early for work tomorrow. She needs her sleep."

"Please?" You could tell by her voice that she was jutting out her lower lip, puppy dog eyes wide.

"How about I come sleep with you in your room, that way we can let mom have her rest." He swung his legs over the side on the bed, blinking to adjust his eyes to the light.

"Eds," you knew it would be ridiculous for him to try and squeeze next to Indie on her twin-sized bed, but he insisted it was more comfortable than it looked. Even if he spent the next day wincing and gripping his lower back like an old man.

"Okay. Carry me please?"

"It's only for a couple of hours," he pressed a kiss to your forehead and tucked the covers beneath your chin. "Alright Gremlin, beddy byes time."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

When six AM finally rolled around, Eddie wandered into the kitchen, his brows furrowed in a wince, bags heavy beneath his eyes.

“Coffee?”

“Please. You know our daughter snores? She gets that from you.”

“I do not snore,” you poured coffee into his mug and spooned in some sugar.

“You absolutely do. Only when you’re really tired.” He made soft little snoring sounds. “Like that, it’s cute.”

You frowned, passing him the mug. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll survive. It’s not the bed, it’s that she starfishes and hits me in the face every time she rolls over. At least when she sleeps in our bed she stays still.”

“We need to get her sleeping by herself.”

“I know, I know. Tonight, yeah? She’s on her own.” He poured some cereal into the bowl you set in front of him. “While I was lying awake with Gremlin’s hand in my mouth I was thinking.”

“Yes?”

“How about we give Steve and Robin some quality Gremlin time and have a date night next weekend?”

“A date night? Can we stay home?”

“Sure. I’ll make that pasta you like.”

“I’ll call Steve later and set it up.”

“Do you think you can wear that little red thing I like?”

“With the garter and the stockings?”

Eddie nodded, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he poured some milk into his bowl.

“‘Course, baby. Anything for you.”

tags list - @geekyfifi @livsters @bailey1212 @babyfrosty @becca-alexa @toomuchtimeonmaihands @munsonology @celestialuna13 @69your-best-night-mare69 @neewtmas @silky-luxe @lokis-little-fawn @starrthemushroom @eddies-puppet

-

lemme know if there are typos im tired

[hairmetal666]

Steve and Eddie.

Eddie and Steve.

After Vecna, they're inseparable. They share a bed. Always. Twine their legs together and sleep close. No reason to pretend they don't need each other when they so obviously do.

Eddie loves him. He knows it's stupid. Doesn't know how to protect his heart when Steve is everything.

Spring fades into summer, and between nights spent with entangled limbs, Eddie starts to see more in Steve's hazel eyes; soft fondness and gentle care, a flash of heat. Their physical affection goes beyond casual touches--arms around waists, fingers on hips, faces nuzzling against necks, kisses pressed into hair.

It feels like they have all the time in the world, but Robin asks Steve to move to Indy and Steve never mentions it. Eddie pretends like the silence doesn't hurt. They've only ever been just friends, after all.

Then, one night, "I'm moving to Indy."

"Okay, yeah." Eddie tries to keep his voice even, the tears from spilling. it was always a mistake, falling for Steve Harrington.

"Come with me?" Steve's hands are clenched in the duvet.

"I'm moving to New York." He had no plans until this very moment.

Steve falls quiet. "That's nice, Eddie. That's--yeah, you should do that, if it's what you want."

He nods. Ignores the lump in his throat. "Maybe I can really be somebody."

Steve smiles. Eddie's not sure why it looks so sad. "You'll knock 'em dead, Ed."

---

They stay friends, of course they do. There's phone calls and visits, and it's not the same, but it's still good.

Eddie tries to get over him. He does. There are dates, men, possibility. But they're not Steve.

Steve meets a girl--nice, pretty, wealthy--the kind of girl made for a King. It sticks. Eddie likes her. And nobody needs to know that he cries himself to sleep, thinking of what might have been.

The invitation comes in the mail. He throws it in the garbage without a thought, before standing against his counter, knuckles going white where he's gripping into the laminate. Tries to remind himself to keep breathing around the shattering of his heart.

He's not going. Knows he can't take it.

Then, a phone call.

"I'm getting married," Steve says.

"Yeah, just got the invite. Congrats!" Bile in his throat threatens to choke him.

"Will you--you'll stand up there with me?"

Eddie smacks his head repeatedly against the wall. "Of course," is the only possible answer.

---

The wedding is fine. During the ceremony, he tries not to listen to the vows, keeps his eyes on Robin's back and never, ever on Steve. He drinks through the reception. Knows it's too much, knows he's losing control. Can't take watching Steve dance with his new bride, so he sneaks out a side door into an alley, lighting his last cigarette. The nicotine barely hits his lungs before a scuffle of feet interrupts his moment.

"Can I get in on that?" Steve asks.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, handing over the cigarette. "What're you doing out here?"

"Haven't really talked to you at all today."

"Well. You've been a little busy." He means it to be a joke but it falls very flat, his bitterness too close to the surface.

Steve exhales a cloud of smoke. "Yeah. Didn't realize weddings were so much work."

Eddie doesn't know what to say, so they fall into silence, passing the smoke back and forth until it burns down to the filter.

"You happy?" Eddie asks. Doesn't think he meant to, doesn't want the answer.

"Ed..."Steve swallows.

"So, yes," he chuckles. It's the most hollow thing he's ever heard.

"It's just--It's normal, you know?"

And it's like Steve punched him, to know they never could've been because Eddie--being with Eddie--would never be normal.

"Right, of course, Harrington. Normal."

"That's not what--I'm not saying--"

"What else could you possibly mean?"

"I want quiet. No monsters, no secret dimensions. Something regular. Easy."

"Six-fucking-nuggets, right? Still a pretty lady in the front seat next to you."

"What's wrong with that? Huh? What's wrong with kids and stability and a fucking life. Not bartending until 4am and playing the occasional gig and living with 18 goddamn people."

Eddie straightens at that, fingers twisting in his button-down. "Sorry my life doesn't meet your exacting standards, King. Sorry I can't be what you want."

He storms away, Steve shouting after him, but he leaves him there with his promising and bright and normal future unfurling before him.

---

They don't talk. One month. Six Months. A Year. Two.

For lack of better to do, for stability, he writes a book. Fantasy. About an Adventurer who helps a group of kids save the world. They're joined by a handsome, mysterious man who seems like an asshole, but helps them selflessly every time. He and the Adventurer are something, but before it's anything real, the stranger is revealed to be their Prince. They save the world, but the Prince has to leave the Adventurer behind.

The book is a hit. Spawns a series. Eddie's somebody.

---

Eddie comes home from the store, paper bag of groceries balanced against his chest.

Steve Harrington, not looking a day older than at his wedding, stands at his door, hands wringing.

"Steve?" He asks.

"Hey, Ed." The nickname twists Eddie's stomach, but he doesn't say anything.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm getting divorced," Steve says.

Eddie almost drops his groceries, his hands shake so hard. He busies himself with the lock, ushering Steve inside.

"Is that all?" He asks.

Steve blinks at him, dazed expression on his still pretty face. "What?"

"You came all this way just to tell someone you haven't spoken to in almost eight years that you're getting divorced? What's it to me?" He stomps into the kitchen with his groceries.

"I wanted--I thought--"

Eddie snorts, makes it mean because he feels mean, wants to make Steve hurt the way he has for years. "You thought? We haven't spoken since your wedding day, man."

"She was ready for kids, and I realized that she's not--she's not who I picture having a family with."

The words pierce him like shattered glass, and he whirls into the living room, into Steve's space. "What the fuck are you doing?" he hisses.

"I wanted you to know, Ed. After all--"

"Stop calling me that. Stop acting like we're friends, for Christ's sake. And I don't give a damn about whatever realization you had once you realized normal wasn't for you."

"I'm trying to make this right!" Pink splotches highlight Steve's cheeks, his anger spiking to match Eddie's.

"There's nothing to fix, Harrington. We're over. It's fine."

"It's not fine," Steve is breathing hard. "I wanted you so badly, and you fucking ran away--"

"Bullshit! I waited for you. And you moved to Indy with Robin without a thought."

"I asked you to come! You were the one who said no."

"You asked a week before you left!"

"I was scared!"

"Of what, Steve? Not having that normal, easy, life you wanted so badly?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why?"

Steve chuckles, steps back. "I always thought you of all people would understand, and now--"

"Not when you come to my house unannounced to unload on me about your divorce because you expect us to pick up like none of it ever happened."

"That's not what I want!"

Eddie turns, pinching the bridge of his nose to cut off the stinging in his eyes. "I can't do this. I think you should leave, Steve."

"Fine." Steve won't look at him, storms to the door. "This was a mistake."

He slams it hard enough it makes the walls shake, picture frames rattle. Eddie can't stop the sob that rips out of him. Entitled, selfish, Steve Harrington, the only man Eddie will ever love. Steve Harrington who thinks love comes with strings attached. Steve Harrington who was afraid of asking Eddie to move away with them. And Eddie, always the coward, stifled by the weight of his own impossible love.

Eddie moves on autopilot, just knows he needs to find Steve, to see if there's a chance.

He skids down the stairs, almost falling a time or two, out into the night. His eyes scan the sidewalk, searching for familiar tall hair, but there's no sign of Steve, no sign--

A soft sob cuts through the air and Eddie's eyes fall to the steps in front of him, to the beautiful man sitting with his head on his knees.

"Steve," he says.

He stands, whirling, face a wreck. "Eddie?"

He doesn't know what to say at first, swallowing and swallowing around nothing. "I--I'm sorry I said no, when you asked me to move with you."

Steve's face does a funny, fracturing thing, even as he gives a little laugh. "I'm sorry I took so long to work up the nerve to ask."

Both of them take a step forward, then stumble together in a clumsy, tear-soaked hug.

"I'm sorry I got too drunk at your wedding," Eddie whispers against his friend's neck.

Steve giggles, but quiets quickly "I'm sorry about the 'normal' thing. I didn't mean it. I was--it doesn't matter. I'm sorry."

They hold each other for a long time on the steps of Eddie's building, rocking gently back and forth. When they finally let go, Eddie pushes Steve's hair off his forehead, asks, "wanna order a pizza and catch up?"

The answering smile is blinding as a sun, and Eddie is just as hopelessly in love as he was at 20.

They walk inside, fingers still entwined, lit up with hope.

"Hey," Steve says as they walk up the stairs together. "Are the Adventurer and the Prince going to find each other again? Because it's been four books now, and I'm still wait--"

Eddie twists his fingers into Steve's t-shirt, pushing him against the stained stairwell wall. "Fuck, Steve, I--"

He's interrupted by Steve closing the distance between their mouths, pulling them together in a searing kiss.

"They get forever, sweetheart" is Eddie's answer.

[jovenshires]

endless au edits: the battle of the bands au nobody asked for pt 7

battle of the bands 2024: an honest op-ed by jeremy elder the six entries to battle of the bands 2024 have finally been announced. not only will we be seeing sad men in their 30s's favorite new band the chosen, known for their appearance on the netflix reality show 'up & coming,' but also four other groups who desperately wish they were as famous. this includes: ftc, renowned alternative-indie sad-girl trio; kolivition, known for making the music your mom turns off every time she walks into the room; coventry, the punk girl group equivalent of that pinterest quote 'we are the granddaughters of the witches you could not burn'; and let's do this, who... no, that's it. who? anyway, it's not like any of that really matters, because i've yet to mention the smosh reunion, aka the wet dream of every millenial who asks for a veteran's discount after surviving warped tour. a clear favorite to win, smosh is coming in with an army of fans and a near-decade of experience on these guys. good luck to what little competition they have. in addition, i am thrilled to report that we now know the final lineup of judges. diehard battle of the bands fans - all two of you - will be thrilled to know that rhett mclaughlin and link neal of mythical will be back to judge yet another thrilling year of mediocrity. after winning ten years ago, those guys just won't let go of their glory days. (or maybe it's the other way around. blink twice if you need help, guys.) on the bright side, though, they've also introduced surprise judge jackie uweh. known for being one of the greatest performers of our generation, it will be uweh's first time judging a musical competition. i don't know what she's doing here and i highly suggest that she runs. and runs fast. the three will be the wonderful, charming, and dutifully impartial judges to this year's competition, and definitely will not be just handing it to smosh as a reward for their long-awaited reunion. (because ian hecox definitely wasn't signed onto the mythical label as a solo artist. it's not unfair at all.) finally, the emcee and host of the event will be newcomer to the rap scene, trevor. if that name doesn't ring any bells for you - don't worry, it doesn't for the rest of us, either. the 24-year-old rapper was apparently responsible for mixing the beats on mythical's latest and edgiest album, which, due to the power of nepotism, made him a natural choice for this year's emcee. known for his "meme rap" (i am being so serious right now), trevor auditioned for the battle of the bands but, fortunately, did not qualify. thus, he will not be competing nor, allegedly, performing. though i have my doubts. i reserve the right to run screaming for the hills the moment they hand him a mic. the soundcloud musician (that's right - don't bother looking him up on spotify, you won't get anywhere) will be hosting the battle of the bands and the series of live shows leading up to it. what does all this mean? well, it looks like this year is no different from the last, and predictable set-ups have means to predictable ends. nevertheless, i, your faithful and humble local reporter, will be making the trip to la with an all-access backstage pass in hand and reporting on the entire thing from start to finish. no rehearsal, live show, or, most importantly, complete disaster of a finale will escape my sight. rest assured that you have at least one decent and reliable eye witness to the whole fiasco. tomorrow marks my trip down to la - i'll be reporting live from the road. until then, i bid you adieu. may the best smosh - i mean, band - win.

[anarcoqueer1994]

Fix it fic for this part 1

Eddie ripped the bandage off first. He seen the way Steve was acting shy and embarrassed after he came. Eddie had seen that before. It was the same anxious look every "straight" guy had given him after ever hook up he has ever had. He knew going into it that Steve couldn't see him as a real relationship. He knew Steve was just horny and he could help. He was used to this, so why did it hurt so bad when Steve left.

He tried to assure Steve(and himself) that nothing had to change, and Steve said the same. But then Steve left, and he knew he fucked up his friendship with the best guy he has ever met. Steve couldn't look at him the same. He was obviously uncomfortable.

Maybe it hurts so badly because Eddie let his feelings get in the way. He knew he was in love with Steve and still did this stupid shit. He had loved the way Steve felt beneath him, the way the other man's body melted under his touch, but it wasn't worth losing one of his closest friends.

He needs a distraction, anything not to think of Steve. Maybe after a while it won't be weird anymore. For now he'll try to keep some distance.

He decides to call up some fling he had in the back of a club in Indy. The guy was a few years older than him, but he had been fun; he was in a metal head, liked DnD, was obsessed with horror. Honestly, he was perfect for Eddie. He had told him to call him up if Eddie was ever in the area.

He gets ahold of him, setting up a date with him the following night. He really hopes this will be enough to get rid of the giant Steve shaped hole in his heart, only made bigger by this ill-advised hookup.

~~

"Steve..." Robin says softly as they are cuddling on his couch. She is running her fingers through his hair as he lays his head in her lap.

"Yea?" He whimpers, having been crying for the better part of an hour, not that he would let anyone other than Robin see.

"You should call him tomorrow..."

"Ugh, " Steve practically whines. "What for?"

"To talk about this. I know I'm not crazy, I've seen the way Eddie looks at you. This has to be some crazy misunderstanding." She insists.

"If you knew he "liked me," he sniffles. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Because I was hoping you two dinguses would figure it out on your own terms and shit, like me and Vickie. But obviously you both are too dense even after having your tongue down each other’s throats." She smirks.

"Ew, gross dude." He says, even if he has a little smile. "Do you really think he likes me like that, even though he said that stuff?"

"Yea, why wouldn't he, Stevie?" She assures him.

This gives him hope. Maybe Eddie was the one for him. After all, he wasn't blind. He had seen Eddie staring at him before, but he had tried not to read too much into it. But maybe he can read into it. Maybe Eddie was just confused, and he does want Steve as much as Steve wants him. "Ill think about calling him." Steve says, not hiding the smile in his voice as he does.

After that, they fall asleep watching some dumb movie.

Steve wakes up first. He decides to listen to Robin, give Eddie a call. He really wants to talk to him in person, though.

It's early, he knows he will probably be waking up Eddie, but he just can't wait. His conversation with Robin last night, really gave him hope that maybe he is overreacting. Maybe Eddie does want him, does want to love him, be with him.

He dials the phone and waits until Eddie sleepily answers, "Hello?"

"Uh, hi Eds..." Steve says shyly.

Eddie feels his chest tighten, anxiety from last night comes flooding in. He tries to push it down. "Oh, hey Steve. What's um up?"

"Ah. Um, nothing, really. I was just wondering, or I mean, I wanted to ask, do you want to maybe come over tonight?" And like hang out and talk?" Steve sounds nervous.

Eddie’s heart sinks. He knows Steve is a nice guy and probably wants to talk about last night and let him down easy. Or maybe he is trying just ignore what happened and show Eddie that nothing has to change. But he can't handle that right now. So he chokes out as confidently as he can. "Sorry, man. I got a date tonight. Maybe some other time?"

"Oh, a date. Um, cool. Yea that's fine. Another time" Steve replies, hiding the crushing feeling of getting his heartbroken again. There is a silence between them, so he quickly adds. "Well talk to you later." And hangs up.

Robin was wrong. Last night didn't mean a God damn thing to Eddie. He had some date tonight to prove it. He knows Eddie is not his, but it still hurts so much that there was someone Eddie wanted to date, not just fuck like Steve.

Steve hurts. He hurts worse than when Nancy called his love bullshit. This really was proof that another person he thought he may have connected with doesn't want his love either. He isn't worth it. He drags himself back to bed. Robin was up when he got back to his room. She was getting ready to leave, had the opening shift at the store. She sees the heartbreak on Steve's face.

"Are you still upset about last night. I thought we talked about this, Steve. Just call Eddie. It has to be a misunderstanding."

Steve's head is already buried in the pillow as he mumbles, "I did..."

"What?" She can barely hear him.

He lifts his head. "I said, I did. I called him, asked to hang out tonight so we can talk, and he has a date." He says shortly.

"What do you mean he has a date?" She says, confused on why Eddie would have a date after what he did last night. She had been sure for months that these idiots loved each other.

"I mean, he has a date with someone else. Someone better." Steve's voice cracks, tear welling in his eyes.

Was she wrong about what she thought she saw between them? And if she was, did Eddie know he is breaking Steve's heart? Was he leading her best friend on. For a moment, she sees red, face only softening when she meets Steve sad eyes. She sits back on the edge of the bed, "How about I call off, and we just sit around eating ice cream?" She pets his hair.

"No, Robs." He sniffles. "I think I wanna be alone. Go to work, okay?

She doesn't try to argue. she just nods her head. Steve is stubborn. "Okay...I'll be by later, okay?" Besides, Vickie is outside waiting to drive her.

"Yeah, okay." He manages to push out before burying his head again, content to lay in bed and sulk all day.

And Robin goes to work. But when she gets off, she does not go straight to Steve's.

~~

Eddie is running around the trailer, trying to get ready for this date. If he is going to make it to Indy, he has to leave soon. He wants to look perfect; he hopes this guy will be a long-term thing for him, someone who wants him completely. He tries not to think of Steve; tries not to be upset that Steve doesn't want him, tries to remember that at least Steve is his friend.

He is looking in the mirror, trying to fix his hair when he is drawn out of his thoughts by a pound at the door. Wayne is at Claudia's for the weekend, and he was not expecting anyone, so he doesn't know who it can be. When he doesn't answer right away, there is another pound and then a voice. "I know you're in there, Munson. The van is here." It's Robin...and she sounds angry? He is confused why as he answers the door.

"Calm down, Buckley. I was coming." He says as he flings open the door.

Without warning, she is pushing past him, making her way in.

"Yea, sure come on in. " He mumbles as she passes. "What are you doing here? I'm kind of busy getting ready." He says louder so she can hear.

"That's why I'm here, dingus!" She looks annoyed as she stands in his living room. "Why are you doing this to Steve?!"

"Doing what?" Eddie asks dumbly. How can he be doing anything to Steve. He was the one here with the heartache.

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself, trying not to lose her temper. "You really hurt him."

"I know. I shouldn't have put him that position last night, and..."

"No, you don't know." She cuts him off. "Steve really likes you, and you shut him down. But I convinced him to call you, and then I find out you are going on a date? So what, Eddie? Did you use his feelings just to screw around? Or are you really that blind?"

Eddie doesn't know how to process any of this. He is confused, Robin’s words racing through his head. "Steve likes me?"

"Oh my god!" She sounds exasperated. "Why the hell would he let you jack him off?!"

"Oh God, he told you that?" He isn't surprised, honestly. He should gave known Steve would tell Robin. "I thought he just wanted to mess around, Robs. That's how every other straight guy I have hooked up with was. I didn't want to make him feel weird."

"Oh, so you are that blind? Steve isn't just some "straight guy." I mean he doesn't really hide that he is into dudes with us." She rolls her eyes. "But that's not the point. Do you really think Steve is the kind of guy that would just use his friends like that? Has he ever given you any reason to think he would do that to you, Eds?" Her voice is softer, realizing her friends really are just oblivious idiots.

Eddie’s face drops. "No... he hasn't." He drops on the couch, putting his face in his hands. "Fuck." He sighs. "I fucked up, didn't I? I hurt Steve."

"Yea, you did." She agrees bluntly, before sitting next to him. "But, I think you can fix it."

~~

Steve eventually made his way out of bed, not bothering to get dressed in anything other than sweatpants and an old t-shirt, still in his glasses. He tries to ignore his feelings, trying to distract himself with TV. He feels almost numb, accepting that he doesn't get a happy ending. He was delusional to think otherwise.

He hears a car pull up outside and assumes it's Vickie dropping Robin off. He does not bother to get up, she has a key to his house. But suddenly he can hear music blasting from the outside. As he listens more he can almost make out the lyrics to "Burning for Love" by Bon Jovi, one of his favorite songs. The music keeps playing, and he can't figure out why they are just sitting out their blasting music.

He decides to get up and see what's going on, a little annoyed at Robin for sitting out their so long with the music glaring. But when he makes it to the window by the door, it's not Robin out there, it's Eddie. The music is coming from his van, as he awkwardly fidgets in front of the door, trying to decide if he should knock. He doesn't notice Steve staring, but Steve can't help it. There Eddie was with a few shiny stones in his hands and bouquet, hair tied up in a messy bun, and he is wearing an honest to god button-down shirt. He looks adorable.

But Steve's even more confused than before. Why was Eddie there? Shouldn't he be on his way to his date? Against his better judgment, he finds himself walking to and opening his front door before Eddie has a chance to knock.

Eddie looks like deer in headlights when the door opens. "Eddie, what are you doing here?"

"Uh, um. Here." He shoves the bouquet of pretty pink roses to Steve's chest, along with the shiny rocks, and Steve swears Eddie is blushing.

Steve takes the flower, tries to keep a straight face, tries to avoid getting his hopes up. "I...I don't understand." He admits.

"I..." Eddie lets out a sigh. "Listen, I am an idiot, okay? I messed up really bad last night."

"Eds," Steve tries to say.

"No, Stevie. Please let me finish." Eddie looks at Steve, hoping he will give him a chance. Steve just nods.

"I don't want things not to change. I lo...like you so much." He stops short of love, knowing it may be too soon for that. "And I ws just scared that you wouldn't want me like that, I mean, why would you? You're Steve Harrington. But I was just scared and I didn't want to freak you out and...." Eddie is rambling, nervously fidgeting with his hands.

As Eddie talks, Steve feels his heart swell. Robin was right, this was all a dumb misunderstanding. Eddie wants him and wants to be with him. As the song playing in the background comes to an end, and Steve can see Eddie drowning in his own ramblings, he uses his free hand to grab Eddie's shirt, making him go quiet as Steve pulls him into a kiss.

It takes Eddie’s brain a few seconds to catch up before he is kissing back, letting his hands fall to Steve's waist.

When they finally pull apart, Steve smiles "I lo...like you too.,"

Thanks for reading and thank you for those who asked to be tagged. I know it's rough. Sorry if I forgot anyone <3.

@steve-the-hairrington @starlight-archer @plyerice27 @notsopretty-notsopink @anaibis @thing-a-ling @bjtremike @lololol-1234 @newtstabber @vampireinthesun @super-cosmic-library @mentalcyborg @plumchaos @alyelf @sofadofax @kissaphobic-kas @koyislosinghismind @starman-jpg @just-a-tiny-void @zelpharnorlee @deadontheinside20 @bejeweledbaby @bat-outta-hel

[hotluncheddie]

'but like, why do you like it so much?'

steve passes eddie the blunt; fingers, shoulders and thighs brushing or pushed flush as they're slumped on eddies floor. a black sabbath record plays softly in the background.

steve just can't seem to understand metal, or maybe he just can't understand how loud it always gets in his head when he listens to it. maybe he's just sensitive, after so many monster fights. if things are quiet, he's grateful.

eddie huffs, side eyeing steve a little as he shifts around. eddie's always moving, fidgeting, its just who he is and steve likes that. likes how reliable eddie moving around is, shifting in and out of his space. but right now he seems a little more on edge than usual. or than is usual after a couple shared blunts.

'stevie, its. its just good. it makes me feel good okay?' eddie spins his rings and puts a knuckle in his mouth. steve watched the movement. eddie has nice lips... and hands.

''i had a fucking, like, counselor of whatever once tell me that i needed things to help me focus and help me relax and help me if i ever felt overwhelmed or whatever. i only saw them like twice but they said music could do that for some people and i guess metal did it for me.' eddie shoves all this out onto steve in a slightly panicked way. which is the last thing steve wants. the last thing either of them need is more stress.

steve smiles at him, trying to show how completely none judgy he feels right now. 'okay.. so it makes you relax? all the noise. it helps?' he wants to understand. so so bad, steve just wants to understand the eddie munson he met after the upside down got closed, after life was put back together. eddie is really great and steve just, he feels good with eddie.

'yeah i like, need stuff sometime. need to move and feel a certain way to kinda scratch an itch i get in like, my bones. sometimes its a fucking ball ache, nothing helps. i can get so stressed out i wanna rip my skin off.' eddie says it with such a humourless laugh steves heart breaks a little. 'that's kinda part of why i took so long to graduate. can't focus in class if your skin is crawling, can't remember to do homework if you get home and gotta like, rock back and forth while staring at a wall for two hours just to feel like yourself again.' eddie is staring at the carpet now, eyes unfocused. steve wants to hear more, just so maybe he can help. maybe make it a little better one day. eddie deserves that.

'shit' ...okay so maybe steve is a little too high to help with words right now. but he stays pressed up next to eddie, hooks an ankle around he leg, keeps him close. hopes he keeps talking. that steve just being there is enough.

steve gets a little, tentative, smile out of eddie. his soul soars.

'you ever been to a live gig stevie?' steve shakes his head, no one ever comes to their little town and he honestly never really liked anyone enough to treck over to indi or chicago to see anything there.

'live music does it the best. just fucking letting go and feeling. all the noise and the bodies washing over you, getting inside you. its fucking magic.' eddie is smiling properly again, thank god steve thinks. he never wants to see eddie frown ever again.

'like, when you head bang, or go in a mosh pit, or just fucking sway to the music just right. it like sets all my insides right. like i'm all put together correct and it feels so good. feel like a hug maybe. like soothing or whatever, like so good over and over again. but everyone is doing it, all together. so you, you don't look like a freak you know?' oh no, he's frowning again. oh god, steve needs to fix it. eddies big cow eyes look sad again.

'mmm when i used to run laps, i'd get to a point where i was so tired it'd feel, like really good? like i could only focus on breathing in and out and everything else went quiet. is it. is it kinda like that ed's?' steve is too high for this. it feels important, and all he can come up with is this? fuck, harrington! your fumbling the ball here!

but eddie smiles at him, smiles all sweet and syrupy and his eyes are so pretty. steve is a goner. a big, too high goner for eddie musnon and his big dumb sparkly brown eyes.

'a little yeah stevie. a little something like that.' eddie is still twisting his rings and his leg is bouncing against the carpet and if he needs that to feel good steve hopes eddie never stops moving. hope he fidgets forever if it feels good, feels right.

'um, next time, next show, can i come too?' steve hadn't planned on inviting himself to a metal gig when he came over earlier, but found a lot of rational thought went out the window when he was around eddie. 'you show me what feels good yeah? wanna feel it too ed's.'

eddie looks at him with so much disbelief, steve is sure he fucked uo somehow. backtrack poised on his tongue, but eddie giggles, fucking giggles at him. steves heart melts out of his ass.

'ooh baby. i'll pop you concert cherry for sure!' eddie is cackling now, delighted it seems at the idea of steve at one of his gigs.. steve thinks eddie has a great laugh.

---

the blunt is long dead and steve is well on his way to passing out. he, he needs to get on the bed. get on the bed and try to not cuddle eddie too hard... a little is okay though.

'um steve? um thanks, by the way. for not like, thinking i'm weird or whatever, for what i said. those things i gotta do, i can't always help it? so thanks, for not thinking i'm a freak.'

steve tuggs eddie by the arm. too sleepy to talk, and not much to say anyway. tugs eddie up onto the mattress with him, up on the mattress and slings an arm over his stomach, a leg over both of eddies.

'never a freak ed's. ‘kay? never ever' steve falls asleep then and there, nestled in eddie munsons sheets, right where he belongs.

eddie can't help pressing a chased kiss to steves forehead. the big, kind, brave steve harrington asleep in his bed.

[steddieas-shegoes]

unconventional tree tradition

For @steddiemicrofic December prompt ‘pine’

wc: 508 | rated t | cw: mild innuendo | tags: established relationship, domestic fluff

🌲🎄🌲🎄🌲🎄🌲🎄🌲🎄

“Isn’t a Christmas tree usually a pine tree?” Steve asked, tilting his head as he took in the “Christmas tree” that Eddie found.

Found. Not cut down. Not bought. Found.

Steve was looking forward to hearing that story, especially now that it was obvious the tree he’d found was what he saw on the side of the road on the way to work.

“Well, yes. But the place on Davis Street only had huge ones left and the place downtown is charging $15 for a shitty tree! Once this ones got lights and shit, it’ll be fine,” Eddie shrugged. “Speaking of lights!”

Eddie ran from the room, leaving Steve looking at the bare tree in a hand-me-down tree stand.

Their first year in their tiny two bedroom house just outside of Hawkins was proving to be…difficult.

It wasn’t the living together part, they’d already been doing that for over a year. It wasn’t even owning a home in general, Steve had already been used to taking care of a home and land on his own for years when his parents left town.

It was realizing that they were doing this, living together, committing to each other, planning a whole future.

This was the first year they could really make their own traditions for Christmas. Last year, they’d still been with Wayne, and Steve had been hesitant to impose, not that he’d had many traditions anyway.

“I found a brand new box of lights!”

“You keep saying that.”

“Saying what?” Eddie handed him the box of unopened colorful Christmas lights.

Steve resisted a shiver at the memory of Joyce Byers begging for some sign of life from Will with lights just like these. “That you found these. And the tree.”

“I found them! What, do you think I stole them?” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and let his smile turn into a frown. “You know me better than that, Stevie.”

“Yeah, it’s just kinda weird that I mentioned needing a tree last night and now we have one. And this brand new box of lights just appeared when you needed them.” Steve didn’t feel bad about being suspicious, not when he didn’t believe in coincidences. “Also, we agreed on trying to find a pine tree in Indy right?”

Eddie’s face fell. “Yeah.”

Well, shit. Now Steve felt bad.

“Eds, it’s fine. We can make this work! We may need another box of lights, though,” Steve went to pull him into a hug, trying to comfort him the best he could, but Eddie took a step back.

“No, you’re right. I just got excited,” Eddie sighed. He grabbed the box of lights from Steve’s hands gently and turned to leave the room.

But Steve wasn’t having it. He took one more look at the tree and then tugged Eddie back to his body.

“Steve-“

“No. I love it. I love that you found this stuff for us. I love you.” Steve kissed his nose.

“You’re just sucking up to me.”

“Not yet, I’m not,” Steve winked.

Eddie smirked.

[red-bat-arse]

I Got a Problem 🎸🎶🎻

AO3

Chapter One

Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, famous for bringing rock to new heights with his band Hellfire, listens to everything but Country. 'King' Steve Harrington, leading light of the new generation of traditional Country artists, has a few thoughts about that.

=<+>=

Eddie Munson did not normally find himself accused of being musically pigeonholed.

He'd played alongside punk bands in his early touring days, and grew up on jazz and the blues from his mum and uncle. His hits on the pop charts prompted a few collaborations with electronic and indie artists, and his sophomore album featured a few rappers who wanted to get experience with rock. Metal was his bread and butter, he had a soft spot for soulful folk ballads, and given his close friendship with Argyle he was more than familiar with reggae and funk and all varieties of stoner music.

Of course, you could probably guess that the exception to all that was the ever contentious genre of country. However that wouldn't be a problem, wouldn't even be on Eddie's radar, if not for the batshit insane decision Hopper made in a diner three blocks away from the studio the week prior.

Eddie scowled and shot Jeff another look when his vocalist snickered at his expense. On the other side of the room this party was happening in, he could see Steve Harrington talking with Dustin and laughing at whatever the kid was frantically gesturing about.

He was dressed in a embroidered beige western shirt with pearls on the long cuffs, blue jeans with a brown belt and a big copper buckle, and honest to god cowboy boots that matched the ensemble. His hair was styled high and his biceps strained the shirt sleeves a little, and when he turned on his heel to follow Dustin's pointer figure Eddie was briefly overcome with lust at the amazing ass in his direct line of sight.

"I don't care," he pronounced finally, twitching as Harrington spun back and ruffled Dustin's hair, grinning wide when the kid squawked in outrage. Jeff outright snorted and Eddie glared harder. "I think doing this before we move to a bigger space is stupid, but all power to the Chief if he thinks we can make it work."

"Don't care at all, got it," Gareth said, coming up beside him. "It's just business concerns. Like, our assets."

"See, why can't you be more like Gareth, Jeffery? He knows exactly what i'm talking about," Eddie slung an arm over Gareth's shoulders -and he must be in a good mood because he didn't duck away. "Business assets."

"More like his ass-et," Jeff muttered, and Eddie valiantly ignored him.

Five days ago Hopper walked into the studio's monthly brunch and introduced them all to one Joyce 'Mama' Byers -which, okay, even Eddie knew who she was -and dropped the bombshell that she signed on with them two days prior. Once the commotion died down she was the one who dropped the next one, informing them all that they'd soon be sharing close quarters with nine other artists from her former label, preeminent among them the one who convinced them all to walk out, that being Steve Harrington.

All ten of them were country artists. Prison Break Records hadn't put out any music that wasn't solely rock or metal in it's entire eight years of existence. To say there was a bit of culture shock going around was an understatement.

"Give them a chance, Ed," Grant passed by with a few cans of coke tucked into the crook of his arm and slapped him on the shoulder, making Eddie stumble. "Half of them are in the middle of doing the bar circuit right now, and it's not like we need the studio space anyway. It's all good."

Eddie huffed, trying not to let Grant's comment sting -he knew he didn't mean anything by it. But at nearly six months to the day, even though the guys would never rush him, maybe Eddie was getting a little bit worried about the future.

"I was talking with the Byers, apparently it's mainly gonna be Joyce and Harrington recording for the next month at least," Gareth piped up again, jabbing a thumb in the direction of country music's leading family -Argyle had somehow struck up a conversation with them and while the younger brother seemed confused, the elder was paying rapt attention to whatever their resident stoner was explaining. "Everyone else is taking a break or doing small shows or one off songs, like Grant said."

"Fine, fine, I get it," Eddie held up his hands in surrender. "But if they start blasting fucking honky-tonk bullshit-"

"Oh come on, Munson, don't tell me you're one of those."

Eddie paused, then slowly turned around, feeling his face heat up only partly in embarrassment to see Harrington standing just behind him, having apparently been abandoned by Dustin in the last few minutes. He had his hip cocked and a hand casually resting with the thumb hooked in his belt, and up close Eddie could see little moles scattered all over his face and neck like flecks of paint. Next to them, Jeff turned and coughed a laugh into his elbow, muffled.

"What, pray tell, are you talking about?" Eddie quashed the instinct to puff up for a fight. Just because Harrington was a good old jock with arms that could bench him didn't mean he had to have his back up, and he reasoned that this was his home turf here. He and Hopper may not always see eye to eye, but if Eddie asked he'd take his side in a heartbeat.

Harrington gave a funny little smirk, the kind you'd give to the family dog who was doing something cute but ultimately futile.

"You're the type who hates Trace Adkins but's never heard of David Allan Coe," he raised an eyebrow, then nodded to Jeff and Gareth, holding out a hand to shake with each of them. "Name's Steve. Good to meet you guys."

"Jeff," "Gareth," his bandmates parroted back, easy as breathing, while Eddie was still stuck on Harrington's little dig about the artists he was or wasn't aware of.

"You do most of the song work, don't you Munson?" he was asked, and Eddie belatedly realized he hadn't actually accepted Harrington's handshake. It was too late now, so he kind of awkwardly answered in the affirmative and watched that hand get pulled back and settled onto Harrington's other hip, so the man was standing almost like a judgy mother hen as he kept talking. "I've been kind of obsessed with Dark Sheep lately -especially the way you captured sexuality in 'Something On Your Tongue'; like how it's all about being confident, and whether it's a stranger at a club or working a job, the narrator's attracted to them in a way that's not gross to listen to. I mean, 'I love the way you dance with anybody' as a line is pretty refreshing when you think about it and... oh. Sorry," Harrington trailed off and turned a little pink, ducked his head. "Didn't mean to ramble on there."

Steve Harrington listened to Hellfire's music? Eddie blinked and the guy was still in front of him, looking earnest as a slice of apple pie or whatever the fuck, and he mentally shook himself. 'King' Steve Harrington listened to his music enough to have an opinion on it, on specific songs from their last record, and he came out the end of it liking his lyrics?

"Dude, get it together," Gareth whispered and elbowed him in the ribs, jolting him out of his fugue.

"Didn't think that was your thing, Harrington," Eddie ran his mouth with the first thought that came to mind, even if it was kind of dickish. "Sexual liberation ain't exactly very prayerful of you," he made the sign of the cross on that last part.

Far from what he expected, that got Harrington to bark out a big, surprised laugh. "Oh, c'mon," he rolled his eyes. "You can't seriously think I'm in with the god squad? They were most of why we left Tiger Studios in the end. Besides," Harrington flashed a charming smile, pearly whites matching the pearl buttons below on his shirt. "It'd be pretty hypocritical of me to preach against sexual lib, considering."

What the hell did that mean? Was it just his brain pulling tricks on him, or did Harrington's eyes flick up and down Eddie's body right then -and where the hell had Gareth and Jeff gone? They were supposed to be his buffer against his least favourite genre, not -ah, there they were -not chatting up the other members of Harrington's little ensemble across the room.

"Consider me told, then. You ain't godly whatsoever, I'll be sure not to disparage your sterling reputation again with that mistake, my liege, cross my heart," Maybe he was laying it on thick here, but there was something about Steve Harrington that got his pulse up; when the other man tilted his head with a baffled smile at Eddie's statement, he had to clench his fist hard so he didn't just -well, he wasn't actually sure. "But I think without the god talk that just makes you a hick, big boy, sexually liberated or otherwise. Is that better or worse?"

Maybe Harrington was just pissing him off with his... everything. His shit genre and his cocky attitude and the way he dressed to impress, it was cringey at best and edging on pretentious at worst. Eddie crossed his arms and scowled, annoyed with this damn situation of having to navigate a whole new set of people in the studio when he was already behind in his work and had no fucking clue how to fix-

"Hicks make some good music, Munson," Harrington said, sounding all kinds of condescending about it. "Especially these days, if you know where to look. Sounds to me like you're a little musically pigeonholed," Eddie went ramrod straight as Harrington threw that accusation in his face, and he felt his cheeks go hot in offense. Harrington smirked, noticing. "But hey, I'm always down to help out if you wanted to explore your options."

Musically. Pigeonholed. Musically pigeonholed!

"Fat chance of that, boots," Eddie swung his foot forward and knocked toes with Harrington, fancy brown tops against Eddie's scuffed workman's. "Sounds to me like the crown's too tight on your head after dropping contract. When you can write a song that's not about beer and trucks and girls, give me a shout, okay? Maybe I'll even give it a listen."

Steve's smirk turned a shade meaner, and he was probably going to say something really nasty -figures -when he got clapped on the back by a big man in a hawaiian shirt and with a thick beard, holding a martini of all things.

"Woah, kids, tone it down a notch. We're here to have a good time," the guy said, part patronizing and part stern -it was a weird combination. "Especially you, Discount Dio. Take it easy on the new guys or I'll ask Wayne to break out the baby photos, tout de suite."

Oh, so this was Murray. Wayne's mysterious drinking buddy who just so happened to be one of the artists who bailed along with Harrington. Eddie had no doubt he'd make good on the threat -not that he needed it, exactly. The interruption seemed to have taken the wind out of both his and Harrington's sails, if the way the guy looked embarrassed was any indication.

"Sorry, Murray," Harrington said, and Murray rolled his eyes.

"Just relax, kid. None of these guys are Hargrove, or even Carver Jr for that matter," he shook Harrington's shoulder a little, and shot Eddie an odd look. "Even the ones that growl and snap at you are just Chihuahuas. And you, puppy," he snapped his fingers in Eddie's face, making him flinch back in surprise. Also, offended -puppy? "I think you've got a hot head right now, so you should remember you know better than to shit on music you've never listened to. Don't you?"

Fuck, damn his big mouth. He felt his cheeks go tight with embarrassment, and he cut a look at Harrington. They were both close to thirty and yet here they were feeling like scolded children.

"Shouldn't have said that, Harrington. Sorry," he offered, ash in his throat. The guy looked surprised, but nodded, accepting, and Murray threw his hands up, sarcastically relieved.

"Thank god! Now come on, join the party," he hooked a hand around Eddie's neck and used his martini arm to bump Harrington forward.

The country boy looked at him one last time before seeming to shrug off their entire interaction, a fake expression of cheer getting plastered on after a flash of disappointment. Why he was disappointed was anybody's guess; maybe he'd thought Eddie would be more repentant in his apology.

Fat chance of that. Musically pigeonholed his ass.

Eddie sighed, flexing his hand, and readied himself to push through a few more hours of socializing. Internally he apologized to Hopper, too -a productive working relationship with the country club didn't seem like it was in the cards for him.

=<+>=

I keep a running list of songs referenced in the notes on AO3 -I don't do tag lists!

[stevesbipanic]

Steve always gave Eddie flowers.

It was one of his moves from his old King Steve days, giving the person he liked flowers. He just thought it was a sweet thing to do, he always tried to make sure it was their favourite flower or a flower that reminded him of them. When he was sixteen he had borrowed a book from the library about the meaning of flowers so he could make them swoon telling them that the flowers meant beauty or kindness or grace.

He had asked Wayne what Eddie's favourite flower was, he said sunflowers he thinks it comes from Eddie's mother she always loved sunflowers before she died. Steve had remembered sunflowers meant loyalty and adoration, he thinks that fit Eddie Munson perfectly.

He wished Hawkins had a sunflower field, he knows there's one a few towns over, he and Robin drove through it once on the way to Indy. The florist in town flirts with him telling him how romantic it is to go to a flower field.

"You buying your sweetheart some flowers for Valentine's Day?"

"Yeah, they deserve something special today."

The girl seems a bit disheartened but covers it well, "A lucky gal having a gentleman like you."

She asks if he needs a card for the bouquet but Steve tells her there's no need, he can tell Eddie everything he wants to say. Any other year Steve might've gotten his valentine a box of chocolates or a teddy or balloons but he knew Eddie wouldn't appreciate those, the sunflowers would be perfect.

He took a deep breath as he parked his car before making his way up the hill to where Eddie was waiting for him. He smiled when he got to the top.

"Hey Eds, sorry I'm late, but I got you these, I know they're your favourite."

He sat down beside Eddie and softly placed the flowers on the dirt.

"I know I didn't technically ask you to be my valentine, but I like to think you'd say yes. Maybe we would've been coming up on one year together instead of one year without you. Could've taken you to that diner that Wayne said you liked to go to as a kid. He talks about you a lot ya know, I worry one day he's going to run out of stories and it'll feel like losing you all over again."

Steve takes a moment to lean against the stone and gather his thoughts.

"Robin worries about me, but I think she gets it in a weird way. I just wish we'd had more time. I mean you had just asked me out when all this went to shit with Chrissy and Vecna. I never wanted you to get in the middle of this, I should've protected you Eds. Part of me wonders what would've happened if we had planned to go out after the game, maybe you would still be here."

A light wind blows, softly during the tears on Steve's cheeks. If he closes his eyes he can almost imagine Eddie is the one wiping them away. Steve thinks about what Eddie would say if he was here. He'd probably blush at the flowers, pull his hair in front of his face to hide it but that bright look in his eyes would give him away. He'd probably giggle at the holiday, talk about how it's such a straight persons day but secretly love it when Steve kisses his cheek. They'd probably share a milkshake at the diner and hold hands under the table.

They'd probably do a lot of things if they'd had more time. Probablys don't bring back Eddie, so Steve will sit with him on the hill, the bright sunflowers laying stark against the bittersweet backdrop of their lost potential. Steve places a soft kiss on top of the headstone.

"I hope you enjoy the flowers, sweetheart, I'll be back tomorrow."

[hit-song-showdown]

Year-End Poll #68: 2017

[Image description: a collage of photos of the 10 musicians and musical groups featured in this poll. In order from left to right, top to bottom: Ed Sheeran, Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee, Bruno Mars, Kendrick Lamar, The Chainsmokers, Migos, The Chainsmokers, Sam Hunt, Imagine Dragons, Post Malone. End description]

More information about this blog here

It's easier more than ever to see the effects of streaming on the pop charts. As electropop and club music become a distant memory, the pop music of the late 2010's works better with individual listening. As mentioned before, streaming works better for album listening, much more than the iTunes era which encouraged the purchasing of individual songs (which was great for singles artists, but not necessarily for albums). Some artists were able to hack this system. For example, Drake's Views (featured on the previous poll) was notable for having 20 songs on its tracklist -- which is a lot for a pop release. Unlike the iTunes era or even the CD era before, longer albums with shorter songs flourish more in the streaming landscape.

Streaming also helped to continue blurring the line between genres and audiences. Without going too much into it (because this is a topic I could ramble on about endlessly), genres were not handed down to us from Mount Olympus or something. Genre is a tool of marketing, and the lines drawn between them can have a variety of cultural, racial, economic, gender, religious, and other variables between them. These lines were more prominent in previous years before streaming made it easier to access just about every kind of music at once. This is when we start to see the rise of a concept known as the "monogenre". In order to cater to as wide an audience as possible, everything starts to sound like everything. A little rock, a little indie, a little trap, a little tropical house, a little festival EDM. There were also those who criticized the streaming era in how it promotes a more "passive" listening style, since playlists and algorithms could continue playing ad infinitum without the listener needing to seek out new music themselves. While I certainly see the evidence of that on the charts, I don't think this tells the complete story.

As a less cynical counter-argument, streaming has made it easier for listeners to find music that otherwise wouldn't have been marketed to them. I believe that this could be one of the factors behind reggaeton finding a growing audience among English speakers. Obviously reggaeton did not originate this year. The roots of the genre can be traced back to the 1980's in Panama where it would later grow an even larger audience in Puerto Rico. The genre would grow in popularity in the States as well, especially in the early 2000's. But if you weren't paying attention to Spanish language music (and you didn't grow up in the Southwest), it was easy for mainstream audiences to miss it. Reggaeton includes influences from dancehall and hip-hop, so it makes sense that the genre would find a mainstream English-speaking audience when those two genres were also shaping pop music. Because Despacito wasn't just big for a reggaeton song. It wasn't even big for a Latin pop song. Despacito led to Daddy Yankee becoming the sixth most listened-to artist on Spotify in 2017, and led to an influx of Latin and reggaeton artists who were able to cross over without English language remixes. Billboard magazine has an article here about the "Despacito Effect".

[dcamato]

“Why…why can’t you love me? I’m telling you im leaving and you aren’t even fighting for me. Why am I not worth fighting for? Did you EVER love me?!” Steve chokes out through a river of tears falling down his cheeks. They’d gone to Indy for the weekend, some holiday shopping for the Party and everyone else and a chance to cut loose and have some fun for them. Eddie had been weird all day - when they went to the diner for lunch (the waiter crossed the line leaving his number there and Steve made sure to use the napkin before leaving it behind); when they were shopping, Eddie kept moving away from Steve no matter what Steve did to stay close. By the time they’d hit the bar, it was like being alone again. Steve didn’t know what he’d done but he tried to fix it. Bought Eddie a drink, kept trying to put his arm around him, asking him to dance…when Eddie got upset and actually pushed Steve away, he was done. He watched Eddie start talking to some dude (who looked quite a bit like Steve, btw).He walked back to the hotel, tears threatening every step. He tried to call Robs (no answer) and even thought about calling Nancy (add to this pain? Maybe not) when the door opens. “I’ll be gone in a few, dude, so you can bring your date back here.” Eddie is looking down, pain and shame fighting for first on his face. “Stevie…” “no, you can’t say that to me right now, no. Pretty clear now,thinking back on the day, you want nothing more to do with me. Don’t know what I did but fine, I’ll go.” “Steve, please just…” You’re free to do and see and fuck whoever you want since you obviously don’t want me.” “HARRINGTON!” Stop! Please…just give me a minute to talk. Please, baby…” “Why…why can’t you love me? I’m telling you im leaving and you aren’t even fighting for me. Why am I not worth fighting for? Did you EVER love me?!” Eddie can barely see through his own tears but he grabs Steve as they both crumple to the ground. The next few minutes are silent, punctuated with sobs, deep breaths and mumbled words of comfort. When he can finally breathe and he knows Steve is calm enough to listen and truly hear the words, Eddie starts talking - “you are worth more to me than I could ever give and that was my problem. I made it yours these last few days, actually, and you don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve someone like me - doing nothing, going nowhere, with no future. You deserve the white knight, fighting dragons for you, going into battle for you. Coming back to you to sing your praises and offer their love. The best I can do is the last one - and I know that’s not enough. You deserve the world and all it has to offer, not some tiny corner of it that’s not much more than dirt. Since I knew I’d never be brave enough to leave you - I love you to damned much for that - I had to make you hate me enough to leave. Guess I am good at something at least. Just didn’t realize how…how soul deep the pain of you leaving would actually be. I don’t deserve you, even less now with what I’ve done but YOU don’t deserve to think it’s because your unloveable or not worthy of love. You are so insanely lovable and deserve to be loved by better than the likes of me…”. Eddie’s eyes shone, shed tears gripped tight to his lashes. He refused to hurt this beautiful man that he would love forever, not one more moment of pain would he cause him. His love for Steve simply wouldn’t allow it. Steve, for his part, was in turns confused, angry, hurt, awed and enamored. Every word spoken healed a crack in his heart; it made him understand how dumb they both were (yeah, Robs had said they needed to work on communication) and how much he needed to make Eddie understand right now - “Eds, sweetheart, you’re an idiot.” “HEY!…” “No, you are but so am I. We both want to give each other everything and we think the other one is going to leave to find it. Baby, to me, you ARE my knight,- you nearly died for a town that hated you, but you stay in the face of that and that is so, so brave; you defend my honor regularly with those shitheads when they get mouthy. You kill the spiders I can’t bring