#mungrove implied

[mispatchedgreens]

baby? baby baby baby. 

filename: moontattoo.png, bc the sun/moon thing? immortal lore now. in my mind he’s dating @kazhan-draws‘s version of this guy 

[kazhan-draws]

March 1986

“Munson.”

Eddie starts and turns around. “Jesus Christ,” he hisses at the sight of the new neighbor standing there with a determined look on her face. “Don’t sneak up on people like that!”

She huffs like he’s being dramatic, which, rude? He might not be that old, but jumpscares are still terrible for his heart. Eddie rubs a hand over his chest and waits for her to state the reason for her showing up at his doorstep but she just looks away with a frown and chews on her bottom lip. 

“Can I help you?” he finally nudges her because he doesn’t have time for this, whatever this is. 

The kid’s eyes dart towards him again, she looks pissed at him for some reason and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s been behaving himself with the whole making too much noise at night thing, so he really doesn’t see why the new neighbor is mad at him right now. 

“The songs you’ve been listening to lately,” she starts, mumbling. “It’s all Metallica, right?”

Eddie blinks and does his best not to gape at her. “Uh, yeah.”

She nods. “They’re new.”

Not a question this time. Eddie is almost impressed. “Yeah. New album came out a week ago.” 

“And you have it,” she says, shifting on her feet like she’d rather be anywhere but here right now. 

“Sure do,” Eddie drawls and grins, eyeing her up and down. “Why, you a fan, Red?” 

“My name is Max,” she glowers at him. “And no. I just need a copy.” She pulls a tape out of her jeans pocket. “Please.”

Eddie leans against the handrail, his grin widening. “Aw, a gift for your boyfriend, perhaps?” he teases her.

“None of your fucking business, Munson,” she spits and it all sounds so eerily familiar yet Eddie can’t place why. “Can you help or not?”

Yeah, Eddie can help. The question is, does he want to? Sure, it’s not a big deal and Red is providing the tape, but she is kind of rude. Besides, he kind of has other things to do right now, like grab his guitar and head to Gareth’s before the asshole gives him shit for being late for band practice again. 

“Never fucking mind,” Red mutters and whirls around, ready to stomp off. 

“Wait,” Eddie calls. 

She did say please. He sighs and walks down the stairs before heading towards the van. Eddie opens the door and leans over the driver seat to eject the tape he made from the deck. Red looks at him warily as he walks back towards her and hands her the tape. 

“You can have this one,” Eddie says. 

She eyes the tape like it’s going to turn into a snake and bite her or something, but she eventually grabs it and gives him the blank one in exchange.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, her thumb brushing over Eddie’s shitty handwriting labeling the tape as Master of Puppets.

“Happy to be of service,” Eddie shrugs. “Hope whoever this is for enjoys it.” 

She looks up then back down. “Yeah,” she whispers, her voice wavering a bit. “Me too.” 

Right. Eddie rocks back and forth on his feet as the silence stretches between them awkwardly. 

“See you around, Munson,” Red says absently and finally takes off. 

“Sure,” Eddie huffs mostly to himself as he watches her walk away. She doesn’t go home and keeps walking towards the exit of the trailer park instead.

He reaches for his pack of smokes as he tears his gaze away from her and walks back towards the trailer; Eddie has to look through all of his pockets to finally find a lighter and pauses in front of the door to stare at the zippo in the palm of his hand.

He remembers the smell of bonfire, weed and too much alcohol, the sound of shitty pop music and teenagers singing, screaming and laughing. He remembers watching a boy disappear in the dark and feeling the urge to go after him, like a moth attracted to a flame, only to find him bent in half and puking his guts by a tree. He remembers how he’d reeked of alcohol, sweat and cologne as Eddie had helped him sway away from the puddle of sick on the ground before suggesting maybe he’d had enough to drink for tonight. 

None of your fucking business, Munson, he’d spat and fumbled to get a cigarette out of his pack of smokes and between his lips. Eddie remembers laughing, more amused than intimidated, and watching him struggle to light his cigarette. He remembers reaching out and plucking the zippo out of his hand to spark a flame and do it for him before stirring him back towards the party.

He remembers not giving the zippo back.

No wonder it sounded familiar. 

Red sounds just like him, and Eddie is a fucking idiot. 

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

“Pizza’s on the way,” Eddie announces. He flops down on the sofa, crashing right into Billy’s side and smiling when the little outburst goes unnoticed. “I got mushrooms and cherry tomatoes like you like.”

Without looking up from his book, Billy hums. Turns the page gently while Eddie noses a kiss against his cheek.

“Did you get plain cheese for Stevie?” Billy asks.

“Yup, with stuffed crusts.”

Billy nods once. Zones back into his book, if the way that his breathing softens is any indication. Eddie scoots closer. Glances at the page and implements the five finger rule that Billy showed him — and determines before he’s even halfway down that this book is way over his head.

“Dude, what kind of Old Testament shit is this?”

It takes Billy a moment to finish the sentence that he’s reading before his eyes stop skimming back and forth.

“The Vampyre by John Polidori,” Billy says. “It’s the original vampire novel.”

“I thought Dracula was the original vampire.”

Billy taps the page lightly with his thumb.

“This was like seventy years before Bram Stoker’s Dracula was published. Stoker’s novel is actually considered an adaptation of this one.”

Eddie nods. Leans his head against Billy’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him.

“Then why not just read Dracula?”

“Because I’m reading it next.”

“God, you’re such a goth, y’know that?”

A small smile blooms on Billy’s face as he shakes his head.

“I don’t listen to the music.”

“C’mon, I’ve heard you bopping to Siouxsie and the Banshees before.”

“One of Max’s mixes,” Billy excuses.

“The Cure?”

“Jonathan left his tape in my car and I haven’t given it back yet.”

There’s a slight pause. Eddie sits up enough to look at his partner, quirking a brow.

“Since when do you hang around Byers?”

Billy purses his lips.

“I don’t. He works part-time at the library.”

“He’s showing you music in your car.” Eddie spreads a grin and Billy’s face begins to burn a flustered shade of red. “You have a little crush on him, don’t you?” When Billy doesn’t say anything, Eddie snickers. “You definitely have a type, that’s all I’m saying.”

“No I don’t.”

“No you don’t have a crush on him or no you don’t have a type?”

Billy huffs and waves Eddie off with his hand.

“Either.”

“Lanky brunets,” Eddie lilts. “Typically of the brooding persuasion.”

“You do not brood, Munson, you’re the most bubbly motherfucker on the planet.”

“That’s why I said typically, babe, let’s try and keep up.” Eddie nuzzles closer and chews his lip. “Y’know, mostly based on Steve and Jonathan. Maybe a little bit of Hagan.”

“You’re putting way too much thought into this.”

“There’s definitely a pattern, wouldn’t you say? Lanky brunets…” Eddie wonders. “Brooding, pale skin, brown eyes…”

Billy’s eyes stay locked on the page that he hasn’t finished reading yet, jaw set as Eddie tippy-taps his fingers against the blond’s chest.

“Is your type just… vampires?” Eddie muses.

“Energy vampires, maybe,” Billy grumbles. He dog-ears the page and finally shuts his book, laying it in his lap. “But no.”

Eddie chuckles. Flattens his hand against Billy’s sternum and smooths his palm back and forth.

“Seems like it to me.”

“This may surprise you, but I’m not so shallow that I only care about looks.”

“So…” Eddie trails off. “There’s an outlier.”

“Edd—“

“Who is it?”

“I’m not doing this right now.”

“You’re my boyfriend, you’re contractually obligated to tell me about your hot man crushes.”

Billy presses his lips together and doesn’t budge when Eddie tries to shake an answer out of him. Eddie is about to start more roughly demanding when the doorbell rings, and it derails his train of thought long enough for Billy to slip away from him.

The blond jumps up from his seat to answer the door, practically ripping the door off of its hinges when he opens it. Light pours into the entryway, obstructed by a tall figure.

“Thanks for ordering Surfer Boy Pizza where we make everything fresh except…” the voice trails off momentarily, nearly cut off by the bubbly laugh that exits the guy’s lips. “‘Sup, lil’ dude!”

A hand shoots out to fist bump Billy, which he barely reacts fast enough to reciprocate. Still, the blond spreads a dopey little smile.

“Hey, Argyle,” he greets. Soft, for how flustered he is.

“Man, I didn’t know you lived right here or I would’ve been hopping the fence for backyard smoke seshes.”

Billy fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a new situation. Still getting settled.” Which is technically true if you count the box that’s been sitting unpacked in the corner for two weeks. “You should still come by sometime, though. When, uh… you’re not working, obviously.”

“Def!” Argyle says. “That’ll be fourteen fifty, bro.”

Billy digs in his wallet for a moment before he slaps a couple of bills in the other guy’s hand, which he trades the pizza for.

“Keep the change.”

Argyle furrows his brows.

“You gave me thirty.”

“Then I guess you have some extra cash for snacks when we hang out,” Billy lilts.

Argyle nods. Spreads a grin as he pockets the cash and fist bumps Billy once more.

“Sweet,” he says, and turns on his heel. “I’ll be seeing you around, lil’ dude!”

Billy waves briefly before he kicks the door shut, turning to walk into the kitchen and stopping in his tracks when he sees Eddie smirking at him from the couch.

The blond’s face turns ten different shades of red in a matter of seconds.

“The pizza guy, huh?” Eddie teases. “I see it.”

“I haven’t seen him much since I left Cali, alright? He just moved in with Jonathan and I haven’t had time to visit.”

“Right.”

Billy shifts his weight on his feet, furrowing his brows.

“Am I under investigation or something?”

“Nerds.”

“What?”

“Nerds. That’s your type. You like ‘em kinda dorky and way too interested in their hobbies.”

Billy scoffs.

“Stevie isn’t a nerd.”

“He’s a sports guy. You can twist it how you want, but he’s a nerd about it.”

“Tommy, then.”

“Too into cars.”

“Jon— actually, I understand that one, but Argyle is definitely not a nerd.”

Eddie chuckles and leans his elbow against the armrest, setting his chin in his hand thereafter.

“How many weed strands can that guy name? More than I can, and I can name a lot.” Eddie clicks his tongue when Billy has no counter argument. “Plus, he’s super passionate about his job. He talked my ear off about toppings for twenty minutes one time when I called in.”

Billy sighs. Sets the pizza down on the counter and crosses his arms, clearly working things over in his head. Eddie gets up in the meantime and strolls over. Gently pushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face before he laces his arms around his neck.

“Jokes aside, I think it’s nice that you like so many different people.”

Blue eyes meet his, and Billy softens. Sets his hands on Eddie’s hips.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I mean, you have lots of love to give, y’know? Of course it’s spilling over, sweetheart. Your cup is full.”

Billy chews his lip thoughtfully.

“I never looked at it that way before.”

Eddie leans closer. Kisses the corner of his partner’s mouth while he toys with a lock of his hair, soft to the touch and free of product.

“Glad my ramblings were of use to you,” Eddie chuckles. “Wanna have a sit-down with sleeping beauty after dinner? Talk some strats for getting you out of the friend zone?”

“I dunno if I wanna do that.”

“I’m pretty sure Steve’s had the hots for Tommy for a while now, so maybe we can knock everything out all at once.”

Billy raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not crushing on anyone? I might have to do some digging on you too, Munson, mister hopeless romantic.”

“I’m fine with bothering you two for eternity. I’m actually making it my life’s goal as we speak.”

“Of course you are.”

Billy ropes him closer, pulls him up to his tippy toes so he can press his lips to his neck — one of Eddie’s many, many weaknesses.

One of the others is, unfortunately, being manhandled. Even though Billy is gentle, it sends a thrill down Eddie’s spine when he’s lifted effortlessly.

“Want me to pay you back for the pizza?” Eddie breathes.

He makes a surprised noise when a large hand squeezes his ass.

“Keep your money, baby,” Billy lilts. Low and affectionate and now Eddie is the one getting flustered. “Wanna go wake Stevie up so we can eat and have our little discussion?”

Eddie nods. Shudders when Billy mouths at his throat and holds him ever closer.

“Yeah…” he manages.

Then Billy releases him. Let’s his socked feet touch the floor once again before he’s patting his behind and ushering him out of the kitchen.

Eddie has this sneaking suspicion that they’re gonna do way more than talk after they eat.

[bearsinpotatosacks]

AU idea where Billy's mum takes Billy with her and Max's dad Sam gets custody of her. Billy's mum and Sam get married and, when Neil finds out where they are, they move to Hawkins (maybe I could add in those old theories from s2/s3 about Billy being an experiment too by making his mum one of the MK Ultra test subjects, hence why she thinks of Hawkins as Neil never approved of her being in the program). Billy's not horrible, he and Max have a nicer version of their back and forth, with Billy being a general dickish older brother.

He's more of a surfer dude in this, still likes metal and cars but smiles more, he's more chilled out. He joins the swim team, and some club with Robin (maybe Spanish or another language club) and makes friends with Eddie too.

There's less of a plot to this and more sad vibes about who he could've been. This version of Max probably trusts Billy a lot more, so when Billy arrives at the Byers looking for her (his mum and her dad are also looking for her), he gets involved in the upside down stuff too.

Max and Billy maybe go to California with Mike to visit the Byers in 1986, maybe it becomes a whole Party team up? That would change a lot, would S4 even happen if Billy doesn't get possessed? Because he's probably not meeting up with Karen Wheeler and isn't traumatised enough to be a good general host (because Billy's boatload of trauma, daddy AND mummy issues have got to be the reason why he wasn't made into a pile of goo to make the Meat Flayer, similar to why Will was a more active host in s2 due to them both being traumatised, or both being Wills).

I could combine S3, S4 and what we can theorise about S5 together? Maybe the plot happens at the end of the summer. Vecna makes his plan to set an army of Hawkins but uses the mall as a hub, maybe he uses the remnants of the mind flayer to control people? He still flays people, maybe Billy’s also friends with Chrissy, she was hanging out with them one night when she dies and Billy, Robin and Eddie are accused and go on the run? He uses the mind flayer to create an army then flays the 4 victims, maybe El is one of the last victims because Vecna wants revenge on her, so we the end of s4 still happens with gates open (remember this is still s3 for this timeline) and the end of the plot is them having to save and get through to Eleven?

This went off track. This was mainly just to get the ideas of what Billy and Max would be like in this timeline.

[cavinginhisfvce]

i've finally given into the siren call of mixed/black billy art!!

can u tell i've never drawn dreads before??? cos...i don't particularly like this drawing but i wanted to try my hand at it 🧍🏽‍♀️💅🏽

[texancommie07]

One day, maybe next week

I'm gonna meet ya, I'm gonna meet ya, I'll meet ya

I will drive past your house

And if the lights are all down

I'll see who's around

Heavy Metal Valentines Day Four: Secret Admirer

June 29th, 1985

Billy Hated It Here. Summers In Hawkins Were Nothing Like Summers In California, All Thick And Soupy. His Job At The Hawkins Local Pool Was The Only Real Upside To His Experience, But It Didn't Really Matter, It Wouldn't Ever Be The Beaches He Grew Up With.

He Didn't Want To Go Anywhere Whit The Weather Like This, But What The Hell Else Was He Supposed To Do? He Looked Around His Room, As If He Would Find Anything To Cure His Boredom In This Hellhole.

Actually.

He Still Has His Shity Little Walkman In His Closet. The Things Was Already Busted Back Home, And The Move Didn't Treat It Any Better. Maybe Max Was Onto Somthing. He Wondered If It Still Worked?

.........

Laying Back On His Bed, He Placed The Headphones On His Head, Shoved His Metallica Tape In It, And Hit Play. As The Intro To "Hit The Lights" Started Up, He Thought 'Now What?'

He Tried To Think Of What The Hell He Was Supposed To Do, How The Hell Did Eddie Do This. Billy Remembers Them Talking About Putting On Music And Staring at Their Ceiling For Hours On End , Eyes Wide Open Yet Seeing Nothing Of The World Around Them, Just Whatever They Were Imagining To Their Music.

Speaking Of Eddie, Maybe That Would Help. Billy Tried To Think Eddie Thoughts. But Which Ones? When They First Met Seemed To Piney, When They Got Together Would Make Him Too Sappy. Maybe The In-between? Sure, Why Not.

--------------------------------------------------

November 3rd, 1884

He Was Insane, He Had To Have A Death Wish Surely. That's The Only Reason He Would Be Outside Right Now.

(They Were Insane, Definitely, The Death Wish, Billy Couldn't Give You A Solid Answer On That.)

Billy Was Stuck Back Inside After His "Little Scene" On Halloween, As Neil Called It. He Had Been Sitting, Trying To Talk Quietly On The Phone.

He Had Propped Up His Window To Keep The Smoke From His Cig Out Of The Room, Not In The Mood To Hotbox Himself, And Pretty Quickly Saw What Was Outside. He Couldn't Fucking Believe It.

Snow.

Actual, Genuine Snow Was Falling. It Had Been Three Days Since November Started. Could This Place Honestly Get Any Worse.

(Oh How Naive He Was, Thinking The Biggest Of His Problems In Hawkins Was The Cold.)

He Had Told His Cali Friends About His Current Predicament, Their Shock Barely Coming Through With How Busy The Line Was. Even Worse, He Finally Properly Looked Out His Window To See...Him.

Eddie Fucking Munson. Just Great. God Billy Hated That Guy, He Was Nothing But Trouble, What With His Pretty Cow Eyes, Gorgeous Hair, Niche Interests, Soothing Voice And Mildly Blinding Smile.

He Was Billy's Worst Nightmare, Someone That Made Him Go Weak In The Knees, And Put Him At Risk Of Everyone Knowing What A Freak He Really Was.

(Billy Still Thought Nearly The Same, Although He Was Starting To, At Least Mentally, Wear The 'Freak' Tag With A Bit More Pride. Eddie Was A Big Help With That, In Their Own Strange Way. Actually Getting To Be With Them In The Way That Billy Craved Helped Him To Start To Realize, He Didn't Mind Being A Freak, As Long As He Could Have Them.)

He Didn't Inform His Friends Of This Predicament, Not Out Of Fear, But Rather Because He Didn't Wanna Deal With Their Inane Ramblings About Billy Finally Having A Crush.

He Turned Himself To Face Out His Window, Resting His Arms On His Desk, The Snow Begining To Pick Up. He Couldn't See Him Perfectly, But He Could See That The Asshole Had His Guitar Out. It Looked Like He Wrote Some Shit On It, Billy Couldn't Read It.

Billy Was Sure He Could Really See Him Staring, Far Too Wrapped Up In Whatever He Was Playing To Pay Attention To The World Around. With How Hated He Was, Billy Was Impressed He'd Made It This Far Without Getting Himself Killed. Billy Would Honestly Bet That The Only Way Eddie Could Actually Die Would Be A Conscious Choice.

He Could See The Flush All Over His Face And Fingers, Bright Against His Pale Skin, Looking Almost Frost Bitten. Just How Long Had He Been Out Here?

"God..This Is Fucking Insane."

"Yₒᵤ ₖₙₒʷ Wₕₐₜ ₑₗₛₑ ᵢₛ ᵢₙₛₐₙₑ?"

"Yₒᵤᵣ ₘₒₘ!!!!"

As Always, The Witty Commentary From The Peanut Gallery Never Failed To Impress Him. He Hoped Eddie Was Having A Better Day Than Him.

--------------------------------------------------

Sketch

[billy-hardgrove]

Billy wasn’t home, that much was clear when Max stepped out of her bedroom and saw the empty couch, the small pile of his belongings in the corner of the trailer untouched from the last time Susan had tidied them up.

A couch isn’t exactly the best place to sleep in the long run, so she wasn’t really surprised that Billy crashed anywhere he could most of the time; but she had expected him to be here this morning of all mornings.

Today was Billy’s birthday.

Max held a small, wrapped box in hand, which she placed down on the kitchen counter before quickly checking that the bathroom was vacant and Billy was, indeed, not here. She had wanted to hand it to him right away, rip the band aid off so to speak; she had a feeling that today wasn’t exactly going to be easy. Billy’s first birthday since his father left. Since they had to move into the trailer. Since Starcourt.

Even if he hadn’t been here all night the main room of the trailer still reeked of that concoction of cologne that Billy wore. He had no where else to store it, no where else to apply it. He liked to gloat that he had the biggest room of the three of them, but only because it wasn’t meant to be a bedroom.

Privacy wasn’t too much of an issue, since Max mostly stuck to her room and Susan was working multiple jobs and rarely at home. And when she was, she was sleeping. It wasn’t like Billy was bringing home a girl every weekend these days either, so the worst thing Max had to worry about walking in on was a passed out Billy, face down in just his underwear.

She’s conditioned herself to not even look in the direction of the couch when she got home.

After a quick glass of OJ Max peeked out of the window to see a black Ford Escort parked in front of the trailers. Billy’s latest ‘muscle’ car. It was a hunk of junk, but he treated it with just as much care as he had the Camaro.

So he wasn’t here. But he wasn’t in town either. That left only one place.

She tucked on her shoes with a sigh and stared at the gift on the counter, leaving it there as she swung open the door and stormed across the way towards the Munson trailer. She hadn’t even hit the dirt road before she started to hear the sound of music thumping from what was once a crime scene. And the home to an interdimensional portal. Honestly, she was surprised that the Munson’s hadn’t asked to move into one of the other trailers.

“Billy!” She called out the blonde’s name as she banged on the door. She wasn’t angry or anything, but it was the only way she could get the occupants attention over the loud music. Which promptly stopped. Max stepped back and folded her arms. Okay, maybe she was a little angry.

The door opened to the dishevelled image of Eddie Munson, dressed in nothing but his underwear and an unbuttoned red shirt that looked a little too small for him.

“Mayfield! A bit early to be on the war path, isn’t it?” The tall, gangly man grinned down at her, though not before his mouth stretched open into a loud yawn.

“Is Billy here?” She already knew the answer, of course, between the shirt and the assortment of bite marks and deepening bruises that dotted around Eddie’s already scarred body. Billy crashed here sometimes. A lot of the time.

They claimed they weren’t a couple. Max would just tell them she didn’t care. Billy seemed happy, and had a bed to sleep on now and again. That was good enough.

“Let me check.” That devilish grin returned to his face as he teased the younger teen, rolling his head to the side and leaning back to peer down the hallway towards his room. “Ah. So he is.” He stepped back and made way for Max to come inside, who immediately began to debate internally which she preferred. The smell of Billy’s colognes, or the stench of weed.

Ugh. Nevermind. She could smell both.

But Lo and Behold, there he was, coming up the small hallway lazily as he zipped up his jeans. Their eyes met, and there was a moment where neither of them knew what to say, or how to act. This is how it had been since surviving the Mindflayer. Their once tenebrous relationship had simply become awkward. Most times they ignored each other. The other times it were as if one were waiting for the other to say something first.

This was one of the latter times.

Eddie could only watch as the siblings stood in silence, slowly creeping towards the cupboards to grab himself some breakfast so not to disturb the, as he discribed it, ritualistic type trance Billy and Max engaged in.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

It always ended so simply.

Billy continued into the living area, looking around for something, while Max stayed near the door and the only source of fresh air.

“Uhm. Happy Birthday.” She had to look away from him, away from the angry looking scar that spread across his back.

“I—“ Billy gave up his search and turned to the girl, his brows dropping slightly. “You came all this way just to say that?” “We live across the road, Billy, it’s hardly—“

“You could have just waited—“

“I have plans, asshole, why are you on my case about—“

“Oh. You’re calling me an asshole on my birthday? Real nice, Maxine.”

“Shut up!” Eddie was still grinning to himself as he munched on his cereal. This was a song and dance he’d heard in various forms a hundred times before. The ballad of Billy and Mad Max. At each other’s throats over the dumbest of things, but it always ended the same way.

“Thanks.” The smile he offered his sister may have seemed forced to an outsider, but Max knew it was genuine. Just difficult. She nodded and dipped her gaze away from him, muttering a quiet “Sure”.

There was silence, save for the crunch of Eddie’s food, which draw both of their attention, suddenly realizing they still had an audience.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?” Billy let out a grunt and folded his arms, so that’s what he had been looking for.

“It’s comfy. And smells like you.” The metalhead propped his head up against his hand and battered his eyelashes Billy’s way, who responded with another grunt and waved his hand dismissively at him; a sign he could keep it. “I didn’t know it was your birthday. Consider last night your gift them.”

“Oh my God, you two are gross!” Max turned to leave, stomping out of the trailer and covering her ears with her hands.

“The hell did I do?!” Billy hopped after her, sliding his boots on and doing a small spin to wink a goodbye Eddie’s way.

Eddie was left delighted at the chaos he’d caused.

But Max and Billy hardly needed Eddie for that, they were the perfect storm when they were together; madness and unpredictability, just with a lot less destruction these days. They continued to scream at each other back and forth about nothing of consequence as they got about their morning routines, waving in and out of one another like a well oiled machine; Billy grabbing the bowls for breakfast and Max slamming a box of cereal down on the counter. “It’s called a birthDAY, Maxine, not a birthMORNING. You didn’t have to drag my ass back here before you go do whatever the hell it is you do all day.” “You are such a nerd. How do people not see that?”

They flipped each other off in synchronization before sitting down and eating in silence. This was just how things were with them these days, and it worked for them. There’s was a comfort in the senseless bickering. Low stakes. Zero threats. It was just two tightly coiled springs who understood each other letting off a little steam with one another, and there was an unspoken respect between them.

“What’s that?” Droplets of milk and chunks of half chewed oat flew from Billy’s mouth as he spoke, jabbing at the small wrapped box sitting next to him on the counter with his spoon. Max looked at him in disgust and rolled her eyes.

“What does it look like, idiot? It’s your birthday gift.” She reached for it and slid it closer to the teen, who perked a brow in response and swallowed his mouthful before speaking again.

“The hell are you doing buying me a gift? If you have spare cash, save it.” Yet he snatched the box up and began to tear into it, ripping at the carefully wrapped paper to reveal a plain, unmarked box. “I swear to God, Max, if this is some joke.” He shot her a glare, but the look on her face wasn’t what he was expecting.

She looked… nervous, arms around her stomach, head turned away. He paused the opening to hesitantly reach for her, but decided against it and pulled back.

“It’s just… something dumb, alright? It didn’t cost much and I thought… I dunno.” She wouldn’t look at him, so Billy tore off the band aid himself and opened up the box.

Sitting among a bunch of wrapped up paper was a small model car. A Camaro. It wasn’t anything fancy, just like Max had said it looked on the cheaper side. Like a toy for a child. But it was more detailed than you’d imagine and bore a striking resemblance to his own.

“Just thought since you don’t have the real thing any more you might like that. It wasn’t the right color so I asked Eddie to repaint it—“ “He said he didn’t know it was my birthday.” “Yeah, well, he lied. Obviously.” Max still wasn’t looking at her step-brother, or eating her cereal. She still didn’t have a verdict on what Billy thought of her gift and she was tentatively waiting for the oncoming volley of mockery.

“I love it.” Her head spun around when she heard that, eyes wide. He sounded genuine, and the smile on his face as he looked the small toy over was… well, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him smile like that. So carefree.

Billy rolled the tiny Camaro back and forth on the palm of his hand, holding it oh so delicately in case it crumbled like the real deal had. The gesture wasn’t lost on him, Max had been incredibly thoughtful in what she described as a dumb gift. She knew what that car meant to him, knew how lost he’d been without it. Like he’d lost a limb. There was no way he’d be able to buy anything like the Camaro again, not any time soon. This really was the best he had to hope for. And he meant it. He loved it.

“Thanks.” His smile flashed brighter, and drew a small smile from Max, too. Who nodded and got back to her breakfast. Billy set the car down on the counter and did the same, returning to their comfortable silence.

They were far from being perfect siblings, but without the dark presence of his father looming over them they were… better. Every day a little bit more.

Now he had to start thinking about what to get her for her birthday.

[boffeeceans]

Sacred Heart

Pairing: Mungrove Tags: Break Up, Non-Explicit Sex, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse, Sad with a Happy Ending, Eddie has a one night stand with an unnamed character, Bisexual Eddie Munson Summary: Eddie doesn't belive in soulmales or one true loves but- but Billy was special, even if others couldn't see it. Billy was special to him. Or, After Billy moves back to California and leaves Eddie behind, Eddie falls apart and has to pick himself back up Word Count: 1,362 Ao3 Link

Eddie never thought Billy would stick around, has known he would leave Hawkins in his dust the second he got the chance. Had been hopeful he would be going with him, hadn't been banking on failing his senior year a second time. And, when summer was coming to an end with Billy still in Hawkins, had thought that maybe he would wait, rough it out for another year.

It would have been nice to get a heads up, just week, a few days, one day even, to take it in, really let it sink in that Billy is leaving. Instead all Eddie gets is hours, when Billy pulls up to the trailer, the back seat filled with his belongings. It's only a box or two but it's all Billy owns. Minus Eddie.

Eddie won't let him tell him, doesn't let him say the words "I'm leaving", shuts him up with his mouth on his before he can even think it.

Once their clothes come off they don't come back on. And Eddie has never been one to cry during sex, that was more Billy's thing, but how can he not? Eddie clings onto Billy all night, wraps his legs around his waist tight, kisses him because it's last time, sobs into the crook of Billy's neck.

Billy wipes the tears off Eddie's cheeks and Eddie does the same in return, the ache soothed only a little by the knowledge that saying goodbye hurts Billy as much as it does Eddie.

Eddie lies with his head on Billy's shoulder, sticky with sweat. They pass a cigarette back and forth and Eddie tells him how much he loves him. Eddie does not tell Billy that he doesn't want him to leave. He tells him that he'll probably drive out to Indy some day soon, buy Dio's new album. He does not ask him stay, to come with him.

Billy does not tell him that he'll probably get it somewhere in California. Billy tells him how much he loves him.

He doesn't want it to end, doesn't want to let go, but at some point his eyes start feeling heavy and he struggles to keep them open. Billy isn't helping, gently running his fingers through Eddie's hair, over his scalp, his voice fades into background noise.

It takes Eddie three days (three days too many) to see it, to see the sleeve of Billy's denim jacket sticking out from under his bed. The only thing Eddie can think of doing is put it on, bring the color up to his nose and breathe in Billy's cologne still clinging onto the fabric, smell the faint hint of sweat and cigarette smoke.

There's still half a pack of Marlboros in the left breast pocket, the Ratt pin Eddie got him at a concert last month is gone. There's something rectangular in the inside pocket.

Eddie pulls it out and he doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry. So he does both as he slips Dio's Sacred Heart into the tape deck and presses play. He sits by the speaker, legs pulled up to his chest with Billy's jacked wrapped around him. He light up a Marlboro, closes his eyes and imagines Billy is there with him.

He makes a copy, not wanting to play the original to death.

(It takes Eddie two more days, when the last of summer's heat starts to dissipate, to realize his own leather jacket has disappeared.)

Eddie listens to it every chance he gets for months, switches if from his cassette deck to his van to his Walkman and back again. He listens while sitting on the couch, guitar in his lap, one eye on the phone, hoping, wishing to hear from him.

In one unfaithful week in December, between Christmas and New Years, Eddie starts drinking like his dad. He drowns his feeling in alcohol, ruins his throat with cigarettes (he finised the pack from Billy's jacket, bought another, and another.) When he isnt drunk he's high and maybe Eddie is overreacting, it's not like Billy died, but it hurts all the same.

He strikes up a conversation with some hot blonde with striking blue eyes he meets at The Hideout. She loves Dire Straits and Foreigner, she used to be on the track team in high school, she takes his hand and leads him to the bathroom.

Her lips are soft, sticky with gloss. She smells like flowers and tastes like strawberry vodka. His fingers dig into her slim waist, he can feel her soft hand at the back of his neck. She feels warm and wet and she's nothing like Billy.

Eddie has the most sad and pathetic orgasm he's ever had.

He sinks to the ground and she comes down with him, let's him sob on her shoulders. She asks him what's wrong, and Eddie, too drunk to take the possible consequences in considering, spills.

Eddie doesn't believe in soulmates or one true loves but- but Billy was special, even if others couldn't see it. Billy was special to him. And Eddie doesn't know if he'll ever see him again.

She's incredibly nice about it, wipes his tears and tells him he'll find some new when the time is right. Or, if faith will have it, he'll come back to him.

They end up crashing in the only booth The Hideout has, say their goodbyes in the morning. Eddie never sees her again.

In January Eddie goes back to smoking Camels, he quits drinking all together, makes himself promise to only get high on the weekends. New Years Resolutions and all that (until graduation, at least.) '86 is going to be his year.

In March Eddie switches out Sacred Heart for Master Of Puppets and DM's his last session of his last campaign for Hellfire before handing the mantle over to Gareth.

In April Eddie toys with the idea of packing his shit up on the spot and heading to California, see if he can find Billy. It's a dumb idea, California is a big state, Billy could be anywhere by now.

In May he battles through finals, not convinced he's going to make it. He tries not to think too hard, writes down the first thing that comes to mind, checks the box that feels right.

In June he walks the stage, he flips Higgins the bird instead of shaking his hand, all too happy to never have to see his ugly mug again.

Henderson nearly knocks him of his feet with a congratulatory hug. When Wheeler and then the rest of Hellfire joins they succeed.

Wayne looks at him with his diploma with all the pride of someone who should have been his father.

Max punches her in the shoulder and tells him he's not as stupid as she thought.

Eddie poses for pictures and right when he starts whishing Billy was here he hears it; the all the familiar sound of Sacred Heart's title song. Eddie whips his head in the direction of the sound. Faith, he thinks faintly, is a red rental car.

The driver side door opens and Billy steps out, wearing Eddie leather jacket, the chains on the sleave glinting in the sun along with a pin on the lapel.

Eddie doesn't think, even sober doesn't care about the possible consequences, he runs as fast as his legs are willing to take him, right into Billy's arms. He wraps his legs around Billy's waist and kisses, everyone who thinks they shouldn't be damned. Eddie kisses Billy as if it'll be the last time until his lungs burn.

Eddie pulls back, catching his breath, runs his hands through Billy's slightly damaged hair (saltwater, Eddie think) and takes him in; his tan, his freckles, his beautiful smile. California was good to him, and still he came back.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie asks.

"Didn't think I'd leave you here, did you?"

Eddie did, he really did, has a feeling that it was the plan. He doesn't say that. Plans can change.

"I'm never letting you out of sight again."

Billy laughs, the sound better than any song. "I'm betting on it."

[unwanted-animal]

Tags: Developing relationship, rough oral sex, anal sex, slurs, womb tattoo, magical tattoo, implied mpreg, PWP

Word Count: 4540

Ship: Mungrove

“… Nice ink. Where’d you get it?”

Eddie stopped mid-stretch, his shirt riding up his midriff, and glanced at his arm. “This? I got it at Golden Goose a few years ago. Why?”

Billy shook his head. He pointed, aiming his cigarette at Eddie’s soft stomach.

“No, dipshit. That ink.”

He pulled up his shirt and glanced down at his skin. Sure enough, there was a strange tattoo poking out from the waist of his jeans. Eddie’s brow furrowed. Without hesitation he began to unbutton them and yank them down his narrow legs.

“Jesus, Eddie, no one wants to see -“

But Billy looked.

Billy stared.

Vines twisted in toward the spot below his navel, where they wrapped into an almost heart shape. There were small thorns visible among the foliage of the design, scattered here and there every few inches. The end of each stalk bloomed in lilies. Nestled inside of the heart was a strange symbol unlike anything Billy had ever seen. It was hot pink and seemed to be a letter from some weird unknown language.

“What’s that mean?”

“… What the fuck ,” Eddie breathed. “This isn’t a tattoo.”

“The fuck you mean it isn’t a tattoo? I’m looking right at it, Munson.”

Just above the elastic of his boxers, where the trail of hair down Eddie’s stomach led in a messy, wild line.

Eddie noticed him staring.

The strange sigil began to glow.

Read Fading Ink on AO3

[billyharringson]

So I'm blaming this on my own impatience and the fact that I've got a decent few fics queued up because of my week off but here's an extra fic upload. I will be uploading tomorrow as well like normal but I wanted to post my next @billyhargrovebingo fill

Square: A2 - Midnight snacks

Rating: Teen and Up

Ships: Mungrove (can you tell that I'm slightly obsessed with them ATM?)

Title: An unexpected meeting

Additional tags: Wayne Munson is a Sweetheart, Supportive Wayne Munson, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Gay Eddie Munson, Gay Billy Hargrove, Queer Wayne Munson

Summary: Wayne was used to coming home from a late shift at ass o’clock in the morning to find his boy still awake and snacking in the kitchen. The boy he found in his kitchen tonight however, or this morning would probably be a more accurate description, was not Eddie and was in fact someone he’d ever seen before. He seemed to be about Eddie’s age, possibly a bit younger, and if the look on his face was any indication, he also hadn’t expected to see Wayne.

Aka Wayne Munson meets Eddie's secret boyfriend and instantly wants to adopt him.

AO3:

[camaro-and-smokes]

Nightmares

Chapter 1: Billy

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Major Character Death Categories: Multi Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Alive, Post-Battle of Starcourt, Post-Season 04, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Nightmares, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Gay Billy Hargrove, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Disabled Billy Hargrove, Disabled Steve Harrington, Disabled Eddie Munson, Harringroveson, Metalsandwich, Harringrove, Mungrove, Steddie, Everyone is grown up, Established Relationship, Additional Tags to Be Added

Moodboard by the wonderful @a-redharlequin

HEADS-UP: If you're triggered easily, as a general head's up: there's graphical descriptions of injuries and how they happen, though everything is pretty much canon, and also there's canonical character deaths mentioned and described but all characters end up living.As a personal note: as someone who had to come to terms in living with the cards I've been dealt with, I've wondered how these three would come to terms with a new set of really shitty cards. And because there's hardly any angst for them as a trio, here's some. Enjoy 💜

Also on AO3 >>

Chapter: [CH 1: Billy] [CH 2: Eddie] [CH 3: Steve] [CH 4: Eddie] / ?

Summary: It was just another night at the Harrington-Hargrove-Munson residence. They were adults, all of them in their thirties. Yet the past tugged their insides from time to time and reminded them about the horrors they’d experienced as teens. All of it felt like a twisted, fucked up dream to them. But their bodies reminded every single day that those things really happened.

:::::::::

He’s falling. He feels light as a feather as he floats in the air, out of time and place, between this second and the next one. He wants to remain here where there are no burdens, no hurt, just peace. Here he’s free. But then he feels his stomach drop as the gravity snags him and starts to pull him towards the floor. The scream that just left his mouth hollow is still ringing in his ears. It’s one of the last things that’s still lingering, apart from his life.

For the shortest of moments, he thinks how nice it is that there are fireworks. It’s the fourth of July after all. The thought of going to the quarry and see the fireworks over the city sky from up there passes his mind. Maybe he’d finally make the move he’d thought about for a while now and kiss Steve. He wants so much to know how Steve’s lips feel like against his own, if they're soft or chapped. To know how Steve tastes like and if he really is as good a kisser as the girls at school say he is.

But he’s falling. He feels his life pouring out of him, leaving him and vanishing into that ethereal peace that was in between time. It's twirling from this plane of existence into another one like water into a drain.

He always thought dying would hurt. That he would feel pain when he was dying. But now as he’s here, actively dying, even as the mind flayer has ripped his chest apart, there’s none of that. There’s only remorse.

Remorse over things he never said. ‘Max, you’re not so bad.’ ���Fuck you, Dad.’ ‘Mom, why the fuck did you leave me?’ Or over things he never did. Not kissing Steve on top of it all. Remorse that his life was already ending before it had even started.

The fall ends as he meets the floor. His whole body bounces at the impact when the hard concrete tiles greet his wrecked body. The hit is hard enough to spurt the blood that was clogging his lungs out of his mouth.

He hears someone calling his name, but the sound is muffled, like it’s coming from underground. Suddenly, he’s so, so tired. All he wants to do is sleep. To vanish into that place between time.

But the voice is persistently calling him.

He feels someone touching him. Warm hand stroking his chest and shoulder, a colder hand gently caressing his cheek.

“Billy...” the voice calls. “Billy, you need to wake up.” “Wake up, Billy...” another voice says. “You’re having a nightmare, baby.”

----------

Billy snapped awake. He could still hear his own scream in his ears, and it gave him a strange déjà vu as he saw the shadows dancing in the ceiling, around the dome light. He’d been here before. In this room, screaming just like this. And that’s how he returned to the now. He was home.

He was breathing heavily, like he’d just run a marathon or something. But he was alive. More than he’d ever been.

“I’ll go get some water,” the other voice said, and someone got up from the bed, making the springs of the mattress creak. And then Steve was looking at him, smiling affectionately. “Hey, baby,” he said and laid next to BIlly, placing his arm over his chest. “You came back.”

Billy turned one his side to face Steve and broke into heavy, heaving sobs. He was so happy that he was here, alive, and in Steve’s embrace. Steve pulled BIlly tightly against him, wrapping him in a warm embrace. “You’re okay, Billy,” he murmured, and pressed a kiss on Billy’s temple. “You’re alive, you’re at home. You’re safe, baby.”

“How’s he?” Eddie asked when he came back into the room with the glass of water and set it on the nightstand. “I think he saw the one where he died again,” Steve replied. Eddie grimaced. “Ouch.” He laid himself against Billy, wrapping himself around him, and searched for Billy’s fingers that he found tightly clenched into fists against Steve’s chest. He kissed Billy’s neck softly as he rubbed the fists gently to help the tension in them to ease. “Babe, you’re safe. Nothing can hurt you.”

It was just another night at the Harrington-Hargrove-Munson residence. They were adults, all of them in their thirties. Yet the past tugged their insides from time to time and reminded them about the horrors they’d experienced as teens. All of it felt like a twisted, fucked up dream to them. But their bodies reminded every single day that those things really happened.

Compared to Billy, even Eddie’s experience of how the end might come wasn’t as bad. And according to Steve, his issues where nowhere near neither of them. Both Billy and Eddie rolled their eyes whenever Steve said that dying was the only serious injury on his scale, so his problems were minor.

It wasn't a pissing match between them but Billy had drawn the shortest straw. Steve and Dustin had done their best in giving him CPR the whole 14 minutes it took the paramedics to arrive at the mall. They had done a miracle and first gotten his pulse back and then kept him alive long enough, though just barely. The surgeons had been operating on him at the hospital for twenty-one hours, all of which Steve had spent in the waiting room, refusing to be taken to the ER and rest.

Everyone had said that Billy would never wake up. That his body had suffered so badly that it would’ve needed a miracle to bring him back in any form.

Billy’s father had already decided to pull the plug on Billy when Steve'd started to talk to Billy. He had talked about everything that had happened, and then slowly, he had started to tell Billy how he felt. How he’d had a crush on him for a while and that he was sorry that he’d done nothing about it. After he’d confessed his feelings, a few hours later, Billy’s brain had showed signs of activity.

Steve had literally brought Billy back.

He was kept in a coma for one more month more before the doctors finally had woke him up.

----------

”Hey,” Steve said when Billy slowly opened his eyes. Billy heard Steve swallow hard and let out a soft, uneven breath. He squinted at the brightness that assaulted his eyes and he grimaced, closing his eyes again swiftly. Something clicked, and the light turned off. ”It’s dark now. You can look,” Steve said. Billy opened his eyes again, his eyelids heavy. He looked up blinking slowly, but couldn't really see anything else but shadows. Shutting and opening his eyelids was hard, as if his eyes had been closed for ages. “You came back,” Steve whispered. Billy tried to talk, but his vocal chords didn’t catch the command from his brain and all that came out was a raspy breath. ”Oh, yeah, water,” Steve said and soon pressed the straw on Billy’s lips. Billy took a sip and almost immediately had a coughing fit as the water fell into his windpipe. ”Okay, take your time. You haven’t used your mouth and all that stuff for a very long time. And you had a tube in your throat for a while too to help you breathe.” ”Where am I?” Billy asked when he could breathe steadily again. His voice sounded all wrong to his own ears, like a crow’s caw, and speaking hurt. ”You’re in a hospital,” Steve said and placed his hand on Billy’s. The touch felt familiar to Billy. As if it was so natural that his body had gotten used to it. He tried to move his hand, but it barely twitched. Steve picked up the hint and wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing lightly. ”You’ve been here for a while.” Steve paused. He swallowed hard several times.

Billy something wet falling on his hand. Tears. Steve was crying.

”The doctors thought you’d never wake up,” Steve continued with a wobbling voice. ”Fuck them,” Billy croaked. Steve let out a relieved laugh. ”I can't tell you how happy I am you woke up.” Billy was too tired to speak more, but he turned his lips into a tiny smile. Steve squeezed Billy's hand a bit tighter. ”You need to sleep. I’ll stay for a while longer.” Steve swallowed again loudly. ”I’m glad I was here when you woke up for the first time. I’ll bring Max to see you tomorrow after I pick her up from school.”

Even after being awake barely for ten minutes, Billy already had so many questions he needed answers. Foremost about how he was alive.

Because he remembered dying. Being swooped into darkness and simply not existing anymore. Being snuffed out like a candle. No film of the events of his life running in front of his eyes, no bright light poetically inviting him into it, no deceased relatives waiting for him at the gates. Just...nothing.

But his eyelids were heavy, and they forced themselves closed.

----------

“I died,” Billy whispered when his sobs eased. “Yeah. You did,” Steve said, stroking Billy’s side. “But now you’re alive and kicking,” Eddie said, and snuggled tighter into Billy’s neck. “Do you want some water?” “I want a shower,” Billy said as he became aware of the dampness on his back, his forehead, and the sheets under him. “Do you need help?” Steve asked quietly as he stood up and helped Billy up. “’m fine. You just go back to sleep.”

When Billy left the room, Steve and Eddie looked at each other. ‘As if’ was silently hanging in the air between them. There was no sleeping after Billy screamed his lungs out in a cold sweat, startling them awake and switching their lizard brains instantly into panic mode.

“I’ll go make some coffee,” Eddie said and got up. Steve sighed. “I’ll change the sheets.” Eddie was almost out of the room when Steve continued. “I’m so tired,” he sniffled. “I’m just so fucking tired.” Eddie turned back into the room and rushed to Steve. “Hey! No need for that, babe,” he said and wrapped his arms around his shaking lover. Steve hugged him back and buried his face into Eddie’s hair. “I know,” Eddie continued and gently swayed them from side to side, calming Steve’s sniffles. “You gotta sleep in the other room for a while again.” “But it feels so wrong,” Steve whispered. “Babe,” Eddie said and pulled back to look at Steve. He placed his hands on Steve’s cheeks. “Do we really have to have this same discussion each time the anniversary gets closer?” Steve looked past Eddie’s gaze, biting his lip and looking miserable. “You know Billy understands and I understand. It’s not for forever.” “I know,” Steve whispered. “You need sleep. Please, Steve.” “I hate you need to take care of me like this,” Steve said quietly. “Of course I’ll take care of you. Because you're a fucking caretaker, you put everyone else first and won't leave anything for yourself. And then you break into hives without warning and can't stand straight for days and at that point you're no good to anyone. Who else is there to take care of you but me or Billy, hmm? I love you." “I love you too," Steve whispered. “I’ll go make some coffee. You change the sheets. But you should go back to bed then, honestly. Just sleep in the guest room. I put the sheets there the other day, ready for Max and Lucas when they come for the fourth. I’ll stay awake with Billy.” "I don't think I can sleep anymore, I have to leave in an hour or so anyway. But I'll sleep there tonight. Should we call Max and cancel?” “No fucking way! We’re not letting this shit stop ourselves from living this time either.” “I guess you’re right.” “You know I am. Now, c’mon, let’s go.”

Billy let the hot water run on his back. His scars tightened and ached whenever he had nightmares about the past events and hot water eased both symptoms. He was re-living the horrors of his past with his whole body, and especially when the nightmares were of his death.

The dream was still haunting him, even though he reminded himself that he was awake and that it was just a dream. He could still feel the mind flayer’s tentacle pulling his insides, and he rubbed the massive scar it had left behind, trying to rub the memory away.

The nightmares always became more frequent with the anniversary of the events getting closer and as the fourth of July was just around the corner, he'd been waking up screaming and covered in cold sweat three-four nights a week for the past few weeks.

Which meant that none of them really got to sleep properly, but he felt especiqlly shitty to have awaken Steve, again. He could see just by looking at Steve’s face that he wasn’t getting enough sleep.

He had told Steve that he should sleep in the guest room with earplugs and not to stress over him. That it was more important for Steve to be able to work over these few weeks than to stick literally by his side. Steve couldn't handle any stress anymore, and waking up several nights a week to his boyfriend screaming wasn't exactly good for him. But the idiot wouldn't listen 'because it feels wrong to leave you guys alone'. He loved Steve more than life but by god could that man sometimes be stubborn in all the wrong ways.

And besides, Eddie was always there when Billy couldn't sleep because he didn’t have to be awake at dawn like Steve did. Obviously it made it difficult for Steve to get to work when Eddie had to stay awake with him—because Eddie was their designated driver. Steve would have to take the taxi—again.

He could always drive Steve to work too, of course, as it was one of the few things he could actually do, but Steve didn’t trust him to drive after he’d had nightmares. The horrors might still jump in on him in the next junction if something unexpected happened and he’d lose sense of where he was. Steve was right, of course. Like he always was.

Which felt like shit, too. That he still wasn’t able to handle a thing like that, staying in the present after some dream and more than a decade later. His shrink always said that he’d gone through ‘an unfathomably stressful event'. He’d probably suffer from the aftereffects for the rest of his life. And that he 'should just try to adjust to that thought'.

He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. He dried himself and put on a robe and opened the medicine cabinet, taking two pills from the Ativan bottle with his name on it. He stared at the tiny white tablets for a while before swallowing them dry. He hated it that he had to take fucking pills so that he could live a somewhat normal life. Not that it ever had been that, not really, but especially not anymore. He grimaced.

Just like about the shock of dying, the shrink always reminded him it was okay to take care of his family the way his body allowed him to. His nerves had been fried in several parts of his body and in general his body just didn't work like it should've. Could probably be expected after what he'd gone through.

The worst were his legs. There were good days when he could walk around almost like he used to and then there were days he couldn't even get up from bed without his cane. At least he could still drive, but not with a normal car. Though, he'd pretty much gotten over the humiliation of having to control the car just by hands when Steve had bought him a new Camaro with adjusted controls.

He did what he could and he consciously knew that he pulled his weight. But for some reason, even after all this time, taking care of their home, cars, and cooking—and being hell of a cook—didn't feel like enough. He wasn’t bringing any money to the table. He was just a parasite...

Eddie halted Billy’s thoughts by drumming his fingers on the bathroom door. “Hey, sweet cheeks, stop spiraling into hopelessness.” Billy tsked, “Don’t fucking call me that,” he groaned. “Gets your attention every single time, though.” Billy snorted. “And you have sweet cheeks, peaches.” “Fuck off, Munson.” Eddie laughed. “Come on, there’s coffee.” Billy unlocked the door and opened it ajar, knowing Eddie was right behind it. A hand with a mug of steaming coffee extended from behind the door. “Your coffee, milord,” Eddie said dramatically. Billy took the mug, and Eddie grabbed the door handle from his side, fully opening the door and bowing as deep as he could, stretching his arm out. “Welcome to the land of the living.” Billy wanted to call Eddie an asshole for calling him sweet cheeks yet again. Eddie knew he absolutely loathed that nickname. But the bowing gesture made him feel warm and fuzzy, and he couldn’t help but to smile a little.

They went into the kitchen, where Steve was making breakfast for himself. Billy set his mug onto the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, pressing his face into the nape of Steve’s neck. “You should be back in bed.” Steve leaned his head on Billy’s. “It’s okay.” Billy placed his jaw on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve turned his head to give a peck on his lips. “I’m sorry I woke you up again,” Billy whispered and stroke Steve's chest with his hands. “Don’t be, baby,” Steve whispered back. “I should’ve gotten up soon, anyway. Might as well go to work a bit early. I’ll pick up something to eat on the way home so you can rest.”

Eddie turned on the cooker hood as he sat on a bar stool next to the cooker. He took the ashtray from the kitchen counter. “Was it any different this time?” he asked Billy as he lit a cigarette to go with their coffees. Billy shook his head as he pulled another bar stool by the cooker. He took the smoke from Eddie, taking a drag. “No. Just the same old same old. Being ripped apart, falling, dying. All the good stuff.” “I’ve actually started to die in a new way in my nightmares,” Eddie said as he lit a smoke for himself. Steve joined the discussion. “Oh? That’s new.” Eddie nodded. “It’s not always the bats that kill me anymore. Sometimes it’s my blood. The fucking virus they left behind.” Steve looked at Eddie, concerned. “When did the dreams change?” Eddie smiled at him sadly. “A while back. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d worry, babe. It doesn’t make any difference, anyway. They’re just bad dreams.” “What did doctor Owens say when you were checked last time?” Steve asked, not convinced. “Babe, I told you. Everything is as good as it can be, considering everything. I go there again next week.” He took a drag from his smoke and tapped the ash from the end of the smoke into the ashtray. “Did I tell about the new shit he wants to try on me?” “That some experimental drug for treating...what was it? Blood cancer?" Billy said. “Yeah, that one. He says that he’s hopeful about it,” Eddie said mockingly. “Eddie, you shouldn’t...” Steve started. “Yeah, I should try to remain positive about it,” Eddie interrupted him. “I know, Steve. You know it always just...isn’t that easy.” Billy stroked Eddie’s cheek with his fingers, then pushed a strand of hair that had gotten loose from Eddie’s bun behind his ear. “You’re alive, baby. That’s all that matters.” Eddie clenched his jaw, and the smoke between his fingers trembled a little. “Oh baby,” Billy said and took Eddie’s free hand in his, squeezing it gently. “You’re important to us, to me and Steve. We love you. Nothing would be the same without you. It’s all worth it.” “He said that I should take a week or two off from work when the treatments start,” Eddie said quietly. “Apparently that shit is potent.” “When will it start?” “Next month, when the first preliminary testing phase for the drug starts.”

[mispatchedgreens]

Roadtrip for @mungrovebingos

[kazhan-draws]

He's beauty, he's grace, he isn't allowed to leave the trailer wearing those. 😌

[spaceofentropy]

New fic!

The fill for the "summer stars" square of my Mungrove Summer Bingo card (thanks, @mungrovebingos!) is...

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 4700

Rating: Teen and up

Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Eddie Munson

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Background Neil Hargrove (who is a homophopic piece of shit), Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Background Wayne Munson, School Trip, mention of the HIV/AIDS Crisis, not betaed

There's a school trip to some science museum and planetarium, planned for today. Billy vows that he won't have fun at this stupid fucking museum, not even by mistake! He's not even supposed to be here today!

Bonus: weird taxidermied felines that make more sense once you read the fic 🤧

[ellewritesandrants]

In a more modern world…

Hopper: Billy, why the hell do you have dad and daddy as two separate contacts on your phone? I know my number is saved under dad and I know you blocked that bastard Neil’s number so who the hell is saved under daddy?

Billy: Um. I can explain…

[biillyhargroves]

Max and Eddie aren’t close, never expected to be; they were just neighbors, all passing glances, awkward waves across the dirt drive between their trailers. Her head would often snap up when she heard his music thudding behind closed doors, throbbing against windowpanes. Her heart in her throat whenever she heard his tires screeching up the road, something like hope fluttering in her chest. She always looked a little disappointed and more than a little mad when she caught sight of the van, deflated when the music cut out and Eddie trudged up the stairs, let himself inside. He never understood why, not until after — after Vecna, after the Upside Down, after the angry mobs and the life-or-death battles.

“I get it now,” he tells her one night. The sky is hazy purple, stars winking to life, and they’ve got their backs to the Munson trailer. She’d stepped outside, muttering something about fresh air. He’d followed, because it still feels wrong to leave her alone, like something light still happen if she wanders too far. Max still wears her headphones, poised around her neck, just in case. Eddie lights up as if this is why he’d really left the warmth of the lively kitchen, everyone divvying up take our containers, fighting over the last egg roll. He cups his hands against the fall chill, chain smokes his anxiety away, breathes a dragon’s breath of gray smoke toward the gathering clouds.

“Get what?” Max asks.

“Why you didn’t like me,” Eddie says, then winces when she looks at him like she’s been gut-punched. He takes a drag, corrects himself. “You always looked upset when you saw me. I wasn’t who you wanted me to be.”

Max frowns. She looks down, scuffs the toe of her sneaker against the ground, kicking up grass and clumps up dirt all knotted with floss-thin roots. Her voices is quiet when she says, “It wasn’t about you.”

“I know.” Eddie’s voice is soft. He takes his gaze off of her, stares ahead, relieves her of the awkward pressure of being watched if only for a moment. They’re silent for a long while, just the buzz of insects around them and the muted din of conversation inside, muffled by the walls.

“You drive like him,” Max says eventually. Eddie glances down at her. She’s not looking at him. Her arms are crossed, her eyes down. “Billy,” she clarifies, whispering his name like a prayer. “Reckless. He always drove like that. Like he didn’t care what happened to him.” She’s quiet for a moment, and then, even softer, she adds, “Sometimes it felt like he hoped something would.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to get quiet. He smokes silently, watches the color bleed out of the sky, and then he tells Max to wait here before stamping out his cigarette and drifting toward the van. He climbs into the drivers seat, leans across the console, rummages in the mess of the glove box until he finds what he’s looking for. Max’s brown are knit when he returns, confusion all over her face as he holds out a cassette in a cracked plastic case, the booklet a little faded, a little creased.

“He left this here,” Eddie says, and Max tentatively takes the tape, Metallica in silver-gray letters stamped over a blue background. She turns it over in her hands as if it might be hiding some secret, some message she could suss out if she just looks close enough. Eddie goes on, “I always meant to give it back to him, but…it just…never happened.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, leans down to try to see Max’s face, wondering if perhaps he’s done something wrong, if he’s maybe upset her. When she doesn’t speak, he continues, “I didn’t know Billy well, but he’d…he’d hang here, sometimes. We’d just kick back. Smoke.” Max looks at him, her face near-blank, her eyes wandering his face as though searching for some unspoken truth, some revelation. “I liked him,” Eddie says. “And I don’t think— I don’t think he wanted anything bad to happen, to him or to you or to anyone, really. He think he just…felt stuck.”

Max remains silent. Eddie feels the anxiety creeping back up, worried that he’s made a mistake, wondering if he should have kept his mouth shut. Max looks at the cassette, smooths her finger over the cover.

“He used to disappear,” she says, still looking down, “for a long time. No warning, no nothing, he’d just be gone.” She looks at Eddie and her eyes are a little red, a little watery. “Was he going to see you?”

Eddie thinks back on the hours they’d spent blissed out on his bedroom floor, the room hazy with smoke, music bumped a little too loud. He thinks of catching Billy out by Lover’s Lake, sneaking off for a hit, losing time stretched out in the back of the van. How many times had it been?

“Sometimes,” Eddie shrugs, “I guess.”

Max nods. She pops the cassette case open, stares down at the little tape inside. She sighs, looks up Eddie once more.

“I’m glad he had someone,” she says, “to go to.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, nodding alone. “Me, too.” They fall quiet again. Eddie takes his place beside Max, both of their backs pressed against the cool exterior of the Munson trailer. Max slides Ride the Lighting into her Walkman and Eddie can hear the faint opening of Fight Fire With Fire through the tiny speakers. “For what it’s worth,” Eddie says before Max can secure her headphones over her ears. “I think he’d be proud of you.”

Max rolls her eyes. “You really didn’t know him that well.”

Eddie smirks, shrugs, lets her out on her headphones and crank up the music. She closes her eyes, leans her head back, taps her finger against her thigh to the beat in the same way Billy always used to. Even though he knows that she cannot hear him, that guitar riffs will drown out his words, Eddie says, “I knew him well enough.”