#stranger things pools

[asthedeathoflight]

I think an underrated angle on 2x05 is something that either Jacob or Assad said in some interview somewhere, which is that in that episode Louis is addicted to heroin. Thats why he has that whole stash of drugs that he gives to Daniel, that's why he gives Daniel the drugs even though he's already got him alone. He didn't just use those 128 boys for sex he was using them to get high. Bring them home, get them to shoot up, and then drain them to get that secondhand high.

It clarifies something that's always confused me about that scene, which is why Armand saves Daniel the first time. He wouldn't save Daniel as a person, he clearly knows Daniel needs to die, but he's not seeing Daniel as a person there. Daniel is just a substance. He rips him away from Louis to stop him from using.

And i think that adds a whole other layer to the fight he and Armand have to think that this is Louis on a bender, with Armand cleaning up after him because he's not stable enough to. Louis in the bed for a week isn't just healing from the burns, he's going through withdrawal. Him at the table with Daniel giving him the "bright young reporter" speech is probably the first time he's been sober in months.

It adds another layer to Armand's desperation, that Louis has been running from both Armand and himself in this way, and of course Armand wants to erase that memory. Of course he wants to pretend that that fight never happened. Not just to protect himself but in a way to protect Louis from having said those things. When he describes the fight to Louis afterwards, he says "you said the worst things you've ever said to me." And he doesn't really know how to forgive Louis for that so he just wants to bury this rock-bottom moment and move on like it never happened. After all, Louis was high, he didn't really mean it, but if he remembers then maybe he might think that he had a point. Better to wipe the whole experience away.

[morganbritton132]

More Steve Has Older Siblings AU nonsense:

1. The first Christmas after he told his parents he was too old for babysitters, he spent alone. His parents were snowed in at some ski resort. His dad said over the phone that they’d call one of his siblings to pick him up so he can spend the holiday with them. He either forgot to call or they ignored the request, because Steve spent the day waiting for someone to come by but no one ever did. He opened his presents alone and lied about it when his mom called that night. Santa had died for him years before, but the spirit of Christmas never really returned after that year.

2. Steve’s dad was on the swim team in high school. Swears he would’ve made it to the Olympics if he hadn’t torn his rotator cuff. He never went to a single one of Steve’s basketball games but went to every swim meet he had his freshman year. Steve thinks his dad stopped coming to his meets because he realized his son was a better swimmer than he ever was.

3. Steve had always been a little scared of the night when he was a kid and when the blue glow of the pool on his ceiling made too many moving shadows, he’d sit at the top of the stairs in the hallway. His mom, who has her own troubles sleeping, sometimes would sit with him. They don’t talk much and they never go downstairs even though Tommy’s mom would’ve gotten him warm milk by now.. The stairs creaked too much and they didn’t want to wake Dad, so they sit there together. Shoulder to shoulder, even on the nights Steve wishes more than anything that she’d hug him. They stop having this time together when she eventually gets a sleeping pill prescription.

4. Claire, being the only other girl in the house, was expected to take care of the new baby, so she did. Steve was bathed, changed, and fed when needed. She never hurt him. She didn’t abandon him. He was always at least in ear shot, but she wasn’t interested in him beyond the duty of childcare. She didn’t talk to him. She didn’t play with him. She didn’t hold him more than she had to. Steve gets it, kinda. He’s not her kid. She’s not his mom. It doesn’t make it hurt less when he sees how good she is with her own kids.

[fuctacles]

wiggly wormy wednesday

Thanks @formosusiniquis for tagging me!!! Here's a thing inspired by that one fanart of Eddie in that one t-shirt that I can't find now

Steve works during the summer as a pool boy. 

It's a good ego boost as he's been in high demand among the housewives in the area. His schedule is full, to the point he has to start declining some offers to have time for himself. When his phone rings with another job offer, he doesn't reject it right away because he's startled to hear a man's voice for a change. Then he hears he'll double the salary and he agrees. 

The address he jotted down leads him to the oldest mansion in town, dark and looming over the neighborhood. He understands the raise in money now and is glad that he told Robin where he'll be. 

The gate is open, so he pushes his way through the artfully neglected garden towards the door, where a note is waiting for him.

You'll find cleaning tools in the shed. Knock on the back door when you're done.

Steve knew of eccentric old people but this one was slowly taking the cake. He rounds the estate to find the pool behind it, and the cake is pulled out of his grip. Who in their right mind paints the pool red? 

By the state it's in, it probably hasn't been used in weeks. The surface is fully covered in leaves and twigs, and the tiles around it are covered in grime. It's a wild 180 after being called to clean pools just so he can hand out sodas and towels to a group of old ladies, but he rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.

Every now and then, he looks up from his work, expecting to find someone ogling him, but he never finds anyone. It's a weird thing to consider a constant of his job, but he came to expect it. Double-checking that he's really alone, he starts humming to himself to make the time go faster. If he's ever called here again, he might take a radio or a walkman with him. 

He's done surprisingly fast, with the sun still high when he goes to knock on the back door. His curiosity is through the roof to see what kind of person his employer is. 

He hears a click by his feet and when he looks down, he realizes the cat door has spat out an envelope. Inside he finds his payment and a note. 

Will double it if you come at 5pm next week

So Steve does, not worried much because the sun is still up, even if it casts ominous shadows around the mansion. 

In one of these dark corners, he spots a lawn chair, the shade doubled with a huge umbrella over it. He wonders if this time, some rich lady is going to join him. Or, the tiny bi-curious bone in his body supplies, the guy who hired him. For the time being, he focuses on his task. 

It's so dark, that he almost misses it. But when he does a double take as he's swiping the poolside, he yells. 

On the chair in the double shade, wearing all black, a huge straw hat, and sunglasses, sits a figure. Steve's eyes are confused as to why they're seeing a black-and-white picture in the middle of his technicolor world. 

The figure raises its hand, making its features more distinguishable. 

"Sorry!" says a voice Steve vaguely recognizes from the phone call. "Don't mind me, just getting my money's worth!" The man grins, sharp and bright, and relaxes against the chair with intent to stay, a glass of wine held in his hand.

Steve considers him for all of two seconds, before grabbing at the bottom of his t-shirt. Fuck it. This is what half of the job is about anyway.

The fabric hits the ground, and he gets a surprisingly goofy whoop of approval. 

tagging if u wanna join: @stevesjockstrap @yesdangerpls @stevieharringtonwifeguy @doublecherrypiediscosuperfly @adverbally

[n33dlew0rk]

I, too, am small but feisty

I’m thinking about Steve cleaning the pool while Eddie is half asleep on a deckchair. 

He’s slick with sweat, carefully pulling the skimmer net through the warm water, catching leaves and quite an array of dead bugs.

He’s nearly done when, all of a sudden, from the woods surrounding the backyard, comes something hurtling directly towards the pool. It’s just a small brownish undefined shape, but it still startles Steve (you know, otherworldly creatures tend to have a soft spot for Hawkins’ forests, fields, malls, whatever).

He hurries to the other side of the pool as soon as the little thing falls right into the chlorine water with an uncoordinated splash. 

As he gets closer, Steve sees a little squirrel gasping for air and barely managing to keep his chestnut-coloured head out of the water.

He tries to extend the skimmer pole towards it, but the small animal desperately swims away from the aid instead.

Hearing the commotion, Eddie abandons his innocent slumber and merely opens one eye, catching Steve slowly descending into the water. He can only see his toned, sunkissed back as Steve corners the little guy into safety.

Eddie lets himself ogle briefly, it’s not like there's someone around to judge him, after all.

“Come on, buddy”, Steve says softly, trying not to scare the squirrel even more. “Let’s cooperate and get you out of here before you end up drinking half my pool away”.

Eddie snickers silently at the interaction and stares intently as the other man finally succeeds in picking up the small animal. 

“There you go, there you go, buddy”. The squirrel is clearly frightened, squiggling and breathing fast between Steve’s fingers. “Hush now, your heart is gonna explode if you don't calm down a bit”.

Slowly, with a firm but delicate grip, Steve starts to pat the squirrel’s face dry with the fabric of his swimsuit. The little animal’s chest slows down its heaving, but its eyes are still wide and wary. 

After a minute or so of Steve carefully petting the squirrel with his fingers, letting the hot afternoon sun help reduce the soaked status of the little one, he tries to loosen the grip. 

A soft smile gracefully appears on his lips “See? All better now. Wasn't that bad, wasn't it?” 

Eddie feels a weird warmth blooming in his chest at the sight, fondness making its way through his thoughts, waking him up fully from his nap.

The creature seems to look at Steve for a few seconds.

The idea of having a pet squirrel pops up in the young man’s head but is quickly abandoned as the squirrel promptly turns on its little legs, leaves a good chomp on Steve’s palm and, with a small jump, speeds towards the forest, to safety.

Steve flinches, shaking his hand to alleviate the pain “small but feisty, uh?” he chuckles. There’s a little blood, but nothing to worry about. He gets up, thinking of where he stocked the first aid kit around the pool house. 

Suddenly, as Steve approaches the shed’s doors, another way bigger, splash comes from the pool behind his back.

Turning around, Steve sees Eddie emerging from the water, hair sticking on his face and a dead serious expression. With one hand, he frees himself from the long wet curls clinging to his cheeks, but his attention is all on Steve.

“I, too, am small but feisty, Harrington.” The metalhead shakes his head to get rid of some water, then looks up at Steve again, smirking and making grabby hands “Save me?”.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Steve had to grow up watching his dad cheat, then wonder why his mom stayed and took him back every time.

Only to then think that Nancy cheated on him with Jonathan, and he immediately took her back.

He must've hated himself for it.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

Pool Day | for @steddiemicrofic's April prompt

pairing: steddie (duh) | word count: 1,987 | rated: T | on AO3

“Thanks for having us, Steve Dear,” Mrs. Henderson greets, stepping through the front door after Dustin barrels in and handing him a huge covered bowl of potato salad.

Steve grins at her, taking the dish, “It’s no trouble at all Ms. H; thanks for bringing this, you know it’s my favorite.”

“Of course, hon!”

“Claudia!” Joyce calls from the living room, “Come help me settle this.”

“There’s nothing to settle!” Hop argues in return.

Steve snorts out a laugh, “Good luck, Ms. H.”

Claudia sighs, shakes her head, and heads into the fray.

Steve goes the opposite way, dropping the bowl off in the fridge with the other lunch cookout ingredients Wayne and Hopper will be starting in on in only a couple hours now, grabs a bottle of water for Robin, and follows Dustin’s route back outside to the patio.

It’s a clear, warm, sunny day in the late summer of ‘86. The whole ‘other dimension survivors’ party is in attendance at Steve’s place for the day; Hop, Joyce, Karen, Claudia now, and even Wayne are staying inside in the A/C, the kids are in the pool, and all but the one of the ‘older kids’ are lounging around on the Harringtons’ sun chairs.

Argyle in particular is soaking up the UV rays.

Jon is burning to a crisp under his and Nancy’s umbrella.

It’s Eddie, however, that’s been in the pool practically all morning, and is currently hyping himself up to do… something.. off Steve’s creaky, probably dry-rotted, diving board.

He does look good up there; drenched head to toe with his hair pushed back from his face like that. If he wasn’t covered in pool water, Steve would want to lick him.

…okay, he probably still would.

Robin elbows him as if she can read the thoughts straight from his brain.

”Shut up.” he grumbles out the corner of his mouth, sitting on his previously vacated chair beside her and passing over the water.

She just snorts at him in return, taking the bottle from him and going back to her book..

”Eddie, dude, it can’t be done.” Mike groans, “If I can’t do it, you can’t do it.”

”He’s got an 82 percent chance of landing flat on his stomach.” Erica states.

“It’s gotta be higher than that.” Max says, “I’d give it 93 percent.”

“Never.. tell me the odds.” Eddie declares from atop his perch. The board creaks when he shifts his weight.

His eyes keep darting from the end of the diving board to the clear, blue water beyond it, and back again.

Steve calls across the backyard, “What’s it he’s trying to do?”

“He says he can do two whole flips before he hits the water.” El says, piping up from where she is laying on a towel on the far side of the patio next to Max.

Steve grimaces, “Does he now?”

”…He’s gonna die.” Dustin says. “Again.”

Lucas is the one to go to bat for their DM, ”Give him a chance, dude, he says he’s done this before.”

“See, you say that, but we all know how uncoordinated he is. Can you bellyflop to death? ‘Cause that’s how he’s ‘bout to go.”

“Don’t fuck this up, Eds, I’m not CPR certified anymore.” Steve calls from his spot beside Robin who leans in immediately to whisper, “What are you doing? If he dies you can give him mouth-to-mouth!”

Steve blinks once at her, turning back to Eddie who’s still hyping himself up for his promised double-flip. “Never mind, I remembered it!”

Eddie breaks from his focus on the board in front of him to give Steve an exasperated, questioning look. Steve winks in return, making the sunburn on Eddie’s skin burn brighter.

He’ll get the hint(s, there’s been multiple) eventually… hopefully.

The advice starts coming from all sides; “C’mon, man just do it already!”

“Yeah, Are ya gonna go or what?”

“Let him work up to it!”

“You work up to it.”

“That’s it, you’re going down, Wheeler.”

“You’re never gonna go are you?” Max yells, ignoring the scuffle starting up between Will and Mike

“Do a run-up!” Dustin suggests, and Steve stops that one in its tracks.

“No! No running around the pool!”,

Nancy chimes in, not looking up from her magazine. “Just don’t die, Eddie.”

”And what, desert all you losers? What’d you even do without me?”

“He’s got a point,” Erica concedes, deadpan, “Who would we watch hurt themselves if you weren’t around.”

“Alright, alright, alright, shut up, I’m going.” Eddie says, waving his arms around, “In three…two…one!”

And he does. He goes for it, bounding off the end of the board, completing exactly one and a half turns, and landing stomach-first onto the surface of the water.

Sympathetic hisses of pain and grimacing ‘Oohs’ erupt around the pool as Eddie sinks into the water.

To his credit though, he manages to stand on his own soon afterwards.

Steve calls out to him, “You okay, Eds?”

“I think I’m gonna need that mouth-to-mouth, big guy.” Eddie groans, then flops face-first back into the water dramatically, much to the amusement of the gathered peanut gallery.

“What a doofus, why do I have a crush on him again?” Steve asks Robin in a low voice as he stands from his chair.

Robin sets her book down on her lap, counting out on her fingers without looking up at him: “Big hair, big eyes, big smile, bigger heart.”

“Ah, yep, that’ll do it.” he nods, then drops down off the edge of the pool into the water. “Alright, dumbass, that’s enough pool for you.”

He wades over to Eddie, still floating face-down on the surface of the water, and scoops him up in a bridal carry.

“Blegh…” He feigns death, letting his tongue loll out the side of his mouth. The backs of Eddie’s arms and the very ends of his hair trail along the rippling surface of the water when he lets his head and arms flop backward, bonelessly out of Steve’s hold.

Steve rolls his eyes and drops his arms just enough to submerge him again. His yelp of surprise is muffled when he goes under, much to the delight of the rest of the party.

But Steve gets his arms under him again quickly; Eddie scrambles for a hold around his neck while continuing to splutter, spitting out a mouthful of pool water and pushing the hair off his face to reveal his now-red face.

Steve smirks cheekily down at Eddie’s murderous glare, wrapping his arms tighter around the other man. He walks through the shallows back to the pool steps with Eddie still in his arms (“You bringing me to a chair, Stevie?”), climbs up the first one, then stops.

He looks down at a now confused Eddie (“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, looking around for something what it was that made Steve stop.), smirks mischievously, then, before he can parse out what’s about to happen, Steve twists around and tosses Eddie back into the water.

His flailing limbs just barely miss Mike’s head (Oops, sorry Mike,), the resulting splash hitting at least four of the five gremlins still in the water.

Grinning widely at the others’ laughs, Steve hurries up the stairs and around to the side of the pool closest to where Eddie fell, looking down at him over the edge as he re-emerges from the water, spluttering and coughing, and flips his bangs haphazardly up off his forehead.

“What happened, Eds? One minute you were safe in my arms, and the next, you were back in the water! It’s the strangest thing.” Steve can’t hold back his grin any more than he could his sarcasm, reveling in the murderous glare Eddie is giving him.

Eddie continues to glare, the other kids snickering off to start what sounded like a game of chicken.

“What’s wrong, Teddy, d’ya not like being thrown aroun–” Steve’s awareness of his surroundings kick in a fraction too late; the kids parting out of the way, the smirk that appears on Eddie’s lips a moment before disaster, the somehow still-cold hands that splay and push against the warm skin of his back, sending him toppling over the edge and into the water himself.

Resurfacing to resounding, howling laughter from all sides, Steve similarly flips his hair back and glares at his new nemesis, Robin, standing above him all smug.

“I… hate you.” he tells her, with no real heat behind it.

“Love you too dingus,” she waves and turns back to her chair.

“So whattya say pot, gonna join this kettle in solidarity against the hoard?”

As if he could ever say no to those eyes.

“Sure Eds, hop up.”

And of course, Eddie makes a big deal about it, “What?! Who says I can’t carry you on my shoulders, big boy?”

Steve shrugs, “Okay, squat down and I’ll climb up.”

To his credit, he actually does, letting Steve get situated (and panic silently about where Eddie's head is… 'Ridiculous.' he tells himself.) and standing up, his arms locked around Steve’s shins.

Steve holds his arms out to help keep his balance on Eddie’s shoulders, “Holy shit man, I didn’t think you had it in you!”

Eddie grits out a low “I don’t..” then pitches backwards, sending them both under the water.

Opening his eyes to the burning chlorine, Steve watches the blurry shapes of Eddie’s legs get their bearings on the pool floor once again.

As soon as his feet are settled on the floor, Steve swims forward and around Eddie’s now-kicking legs, the gangly appendages trying futilely to keep him away.

He’s almost out of breath so he clamps a hand on one of Eddie’s knees, using it as an anchor to get behind him and puts his head between the other man’s legs, sitting the backs of Eddie’s thighs squarely down on his shoulders.

He stands, his hair plastered flat to his forehead by the water, and by Eddie’s hands where they hold onto him for dear life.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Eddie says when Steve attempts to shake the hairs off his face, pushing the offending hairs out of his eyes and back up onto the top of head.

Steve tilts his head back as far as he can, looking up at the man on his shoulders.

Eddie’s head blocks out the sun, and it gives him a halo made of sunlight. “Thanks sweetheart.” Steve says, only to Eddie, then faces down the rest of the shitheads. “Alright shitheads, who’s up first?”

Steve and Eddie play against each of the others, some pairs taking longer, some only taking a single shove to get Eddie to topple down into the water.

And each time Steve scoops him back up, Eddie pushes the hairs off his face, scooches his bony butt around to get situated (seriously, how does he sit for any length of time on that thing?!), and gives Steve’s cheek a pat of encouragement before they face off against another round of kids.

Jon and Argyle go up against them once, and it’s the longest round of the afternoon.

Eventually though, about halfway through their chicken tournament, the ‘real’ adults file outside to the Harringtons’ patio table and start up the grill.

By time Jon finally dislodges Eddie from Steve’s shoulders, it’s time to eat.

Eddie’s the last one out of the water, and Steve savors every moment it takes him to trudge up the pool steps, winded, probably aching, but smiling wide, as gorgeous as ever.

“C’mon Stevie,” he huffs, “Let’s get some grub. I’m starving after beating all these twerps.”

“They kicked our asses, Eds.”

“Yeah, but it was fun though, right?” Eddie grins, walking ahead of him to grab, still soaking wet, a handful of (now also soaking wet) hamburger bun.

Steve smiles to himself, watching Dustin and Lucas gang up on him for adding chlorine to their food. “Yeah it was.”

i had to do the fake one too!!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Anyone done lifeguard at a resort pool Steve having to save single dad Eddie’s daughter because he took his eyes off her for “barely a second” and “she’s such a strong swimmer!”

And Eddie feels incredibly guilty even though that happens all the time and it’s literally why Steve is there

Eddie decides to buy him dinner that night when he’s off the clock and they fall in love and kiss about it and it turns out Eddie was doing a little staycation because they couldn’t really afford to travel anywhere so he’s only the next town over and they get married and have a lot of babies and stuff

[kkpwnall]

wanted: pool boy at the vampire mansion

for my darlingest louseph @cheatghost who a few days ago sent me the words "pool boy steve at eddie's vampire mansion" at 6 in the morning and immediately got my brain whirring. like 0 to 60, dead asleep to wide awake and writing. so here's less than 1k words of pure ridiculous fun.

[also on ao3]

It’s not a bad gig, really. Even if it stipulates in his contract that he has to be shirtless while he’s on the property. But Steve also signed the contract in his blood so he’s not sure how legal it is. 

Plus the pay is insane. He quit his other jobs, and he’s basically got free reign of the pool all day. So he takes his time with the skimmer fishing out all the leaves and dead bugs, swims laps for a while. Spends the rest of the day in a lounger before adjusting the chemicals so it’s perfect by morning.

What do vampires need with a pool anyway?

The four guys stay in the house whenever Steve comes by, but they're friendly enough and wave at him through the dark tinted windows. 

One guy ogles him the whole time he works. Not that he really minds. So what if Steve gets to work early, just to put on sunscreen? Who’s gonna know if he puts some extra flex in his muscles while he works? And who cares if they’ve got the cleanest pool in all of Indiana? It’s not hurting anyone. 

But Steve's drawn to him the same way he was drawn to the ad in the first place, with his long dark curly hair and unending collection of black band shirts. His crooked smile and dimples and shining brown eyes.

It's just... they've never once spoken. And Steve is dying to get to know this guy who makes the goofiest faces at him. Who was pissed when Steve laughed the first time he did, hands up like devil horns, tongue lolling and eyes crossed. Until Steve made his own face back. 

This guy, who plays elaborate charades with Steve through the glass, trying and failing to do the classic walking-down-stairs bit. Who went boneless when one of the guys in his band (? coven? pod? Ask Dustin what a group of vampires is called.) dragged him away while Steve mimed crying, waving an imaginary hanky at him. This guy, who clutched his heart and fell over when Steve lowered his shades and winked at him one day.

And it's because of those shades that Steve has to drive all the way back to the mansion late one night to retrieve them from his usual chair.

When he gets there, someone’s floating in the pool. Someone, with long curly hair spilling all around their head. Someone, wearing all their clothes, and Steve can't tell from the weak pool light if they're face up or face down, but they sure as hell aren't moving. 

His lifeguard training takes over between one step and the next, as he bolts for the pool, launching into the water, and throwing himself forward with broad strokes. 

Except when Steve gets to him, the guy isn't drowning, he’s sputtering and swearing and pushing away from him in the water. “What are you doing here?!”

“You're not drowning...” Steve says blankly, trying to catch his breath as he treads water. 

“No! And thank you for the rescue, Lancelot, but you need to get out of here.” His long hair streams over his face as he spins while Steve paddles around him to make sure he’s really alright. 

“Lancelot?” he asks, just to keep the guy talking, to hear more from his honeyed voice. Better than anything he could’ve ever imagined. 

“A knight in shining armor,” the guy mumbles, trying to hide his face. “A hero rescuing fair damsels and slaying vile beasts.” 

Steve chuckles, but doesn’t miss the venom in his last words. He catches him by the upper arm to stop his spinning. “No, I know who Lancelot is, it’s just–”

It’s just he’s even prettier close up. It’s just his skin is freezing cold in the sun-warmed pool water. It’s just he’s looking at Steve, caught somewhere between a grimace and a grin, and his teeth are so so sharp. 

“I’m Steve,” he says, moving closer. Entirely entranced by the pool light, the moonlight, the starlight, glimmering in his eyes. Steve’s hand has a mind of its own, rising out of the water to cup the guy’s cheek with a wet palm, “And you’re…” 

Gently traces his lower lip, runs his thumb over the sharp canine, careful not to touch the pointed tip. 

“You’re beautiful,” Steve breathes. 

The guy surges forward, reeling Steve in with a hand on the back of his neck, and kisses him fiercely. Steve kisses him back just as fervently, wraps his arms around his waist and kicks out with his legs to keep them afloat, as his tongue slides past the guy’s teeth to swirl and dance with his. 

It's messy and uncoordinated and they sink and bob in the water as they move against each other. The guy's fingers tangle in the shaggy hair at the base of his neck, twisting and snagging. Steve groans and stretches a broad palm up between the guy's shoulder blades, pressing further into him, drinking all of him in.

“It’s Eddie,” he says, pulling back and panting when they finally part. “I’m Eddie.”

Steve grins at Eddie and kisses him again, pushing them through the water towards the edge at the shallow end of the pool. He can think of better uses for his legs right now.

[floredaqueen]

𝐀𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

Doodle of Eddie and my original character Nova free in the rain.. Hope you enjoy❦︎

[runraerun]

hello yes I made these headers if anyone cares.

like and/or reblog if you use ‘em is all I ask.

[artiststarme]

His whole life, Steve had been waiting for a reason. The fight with Byers hadn’t been enough nor had the loss of Tommy and Carol. Nancy’s cheating and the humiliation he felt almost did it but not quite. The first run in with the Upside Down, the second, the beating from hell, not getting into college, disappointing his parents, the Russians, losing Hopper, none of it was enough.

But losing Max and Eddie was. It felt like Steve had lost his tether. His new friend, his potential for more, was gone. Max, the random girl that had grown to be the snarky little sister he’d always needed, was gone. After that, his ever-there backup plan started feeling a little bit less like a backup. As soon as the Buckley parents decided to move away with a reluctant Robin in tow, Steve was done.

He slunk away from everyone, hiding from their gazes and escaping in their grief. He didn’t need their scrutiny or worse, their fake concern. He didn’t have any affairs to put in order, no one would notice anything amiss anyways. Steve always existed in the background, until he didn’t. He slipped under the water of his pool one night and for once, he didn’t feel turmoil. Even as his lungs ran out of air and every cell in his body screamed for air, Steve only felt calm. And soon, he felt nothing at all.

[myrkky]

Billy and Steve chilling in the pool ☀️💕

done summer 2021

[sparkle-fiend]

A meme redraw inspired by a prompt posted by @hellfireloserclub (and @nitro502 who also shared a prompt for this at one point).

[hitlikehammers]

feel the bigger thing

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!Eddie, domestic husbands are domestic ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, rockstar husbands, love is lying on top of each other on the sofa discussing buying a new house with a pool, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day twelve: Love is having hope for the future together (@acasualcrossfade)

you know how the rockstar husbands talked about lights for their pool in the original fic, je ne regrette rien? well GUESS WHAT FEATURES HERE

“These numbers,” Eddie’s reading over the printouts from their manager, sales projections and preliminary tour dates and all the rest: “baby, we can get the new house, hell, we can keep this one and have a second house if we want it,” Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head where he’s got him bundled up on his chest, tucked under his chin where they’re currently both sprawled on the couch; Eddie says he likes to think like that—likes to know Steve’s there by design, no question, the weight of him evident every time he breathes, he says; held close to my heart, baby, in fact, is what he also says.

Hopeless goddamn romantic, his husband. But he wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We don’t need a second house,” Steve points out, smooshed against Eddie’s sternum.

“We can get the pool,” Eddie added with the audible equivalent of his brow-wiggle and okay, fine, that’s a good point, because Steve may not have really used the one at his parents’ after, well, everything, but he…does kinda miss having one. Now that the memories are distant enough in both time and miles that he doesn’t see standing water deeper than four feet and start fucking hyperventilating anymore.

So…yeah. Compelling argument regarding a pool.

“This record,” Eddie blows out a long breath, slow and even as Steve rides it where he’s braced atop his chest, lifted with his lungs: “this record’s gonna change everything.”

Steve turns his opposite cheek against Eddie’s heartbeat, huffs a little as he gets comfortable again before he asks:

“You think so?”

Eddie doesn’t move, but the fact that he stills so completely is kinda like a motion in itself.

“You don’t?”

He doesn’t sound angry or anything, or even upset. Not disappointed. Maybe just…surprised.

And Steve gets that. The numbers attached to this album are…if they’re right?

This is going to be huge.

But.

“I mean,” Steve shrugs, which is kinda useless given his position, so he sorts of ends up nosing at Eddie’s shirt instead as a byproduct of the hushing of his shoulders: he’s not mad at that, as the outcome:

“I guess, not really,” Steve finally settles on because it’s really not any more complicated than that.

Then Eddie’s got his fingertips at Steve’s nape and he’s spreading them through Steve’s hair and oh.

Oh, that’s so fucking nice.

Which is probably why he pairs the sensation with the question he follows with:

“It’s not good?”

And Steve almost doesn’t hear it, and he wouldn’t even fucking feel bad for not hearing it or not processing it when Eddie’s hands are in his hairlike that because fucking hell, Eddie knows what that goddamn does to him; but Steve does hear it. And again: it’s not angry, or upset. It’s maybe a little surprised. It’s not even quite…hurt, or disappointed, but it’s far closer to either or both than Steve’s comfortable with, than Steve ever wants to hear in that voice, so:

“God no,” he answers with real feeling, shaking his head to back it up and also to—mournfully—dislodge Eddie’s distracting fucking hands; “it’s spectacular,” Steve tells him, plain and honest because it’s the fucking truth: “definitely your best yet.” Also true.

Eddie goes still again, and Steve tips his head up and back at the most uncomfortable possible angle to catch Eddie expression, to read its clues: he’s watching Steve so intently, like he’s something unfathomable and dear enough to spend eternity decoding—but that’s strange in itself. They kind of know each other inside-and-out by now.

So Steve rolls back the words exchanged, looks for the catch, the dropped stitch, the record-scratch.

Gonna change everything—

Ah. Steve’s breath hitches a little, but: he thinks he’s found it. Right.

He makes himself breath in deep but slow, gentle and calm as he can, and Eddie’ll pick up the tension he can’t wholly wash out just yet, and Eddie’ll feel the uptick of his pulse where his one hand holds Steve still around the ribs. But it’s fine. Because they’re fine.

Okay.

“I just,” Steve exhales long; “you said everything,” and Steve tries to make his tone hold the word itself to account, to fill it up with all of the things that came to Steve’s mind and made him denounce the possibility on sight—change everything? But there’s so very little about Steve’s life, about this life together, about their life that they’ve clawed and fought for and now get to relish and bask in: Steve doesn’t want that changed.

And to think a fucking album release could change what they have, that was just, insanity.

…right?

“You said that, and I—“ and that’s as far as Steve gets before Eddie’s dragging him up, firm but so tender, and so full of love in just the touch that any misgivings—and they weren’t even that, that were just…just little off feelings that Steve knew weren’t of real consequence, because he knowswhat they are and what they have and his first instinct was right damnit, and he knew that like he knows the sky is blue and Eddie curls frizz no matter what you fucking do to them: they won’t change in the ways that matter, because they’re…unshakable.

So Steve knew that already, and he knows it now in just Eddie’s touch drawing up upward and closer, but if somehow he’d managed to miss both of those points?

The way he kisses Steve is…fuck, it’s like sucking his soul to consume.

“Oh, oh baby,” Eddie speaks so that they’re lips aren’t ever anything but locked tight, but touching close and with feeling; “not everything, no,” he promises, seals it, vows it straight into Steve’s open mouth so it’ll slip safe down to his heart and soul:

“Not everything,” he whispers, still close enough they can’t breathe without the other there, too, and: that’s heady. That’s real.

“Good,” Steve exhales but with a weight to it, a finality: a seal and vow of his own as he nips Eddie’s swollen lips once, twice, and then tucks himself under Eddie’s chin again, where Eddie’s arms are waiting to envelop him even closer, now; tighter still somehow.

“You’re the center of my world, you know that?” Eddie finally murmurs into Steve’s hair once their breaths have calmed a little, and he can say it steady and sure like he means to, and Steve really just smiles, and burrows that half-an-inch closer, where he compresses Eddie’s flesh to the bone so he can feel the nearest a person can be.

“I do know that,” and it’s not even a fib, or a half-truth: and Eddie already knows the understood ‘you’ of the sentiment clear and well-established—Steve knows Eddie’s love in all sorts of ways, big and small and in between but the first way he probably believed it best was coming to grips with the fact, the unwavering law-of-the-universe fact, that Eddie Munson’s heart beats for Steve the very same Steve’s beats for him. No difference. No more or less. Perfect concert, exact same time signature: precisely shock-start to pump in the first place, like the same spark keeps time in both their chests.

Steve knows he’s loved in ways that don’t have words. Because he loves the very same, and so he knows them intimately, no labels required.

“I already told the promo team we work around your schedule or I’m gonna have to by inconveniently down with the flu for appearances,” Eddie adds as Steve settles back on his chest, soft again and languid: he wasn’t fearful, or even truly hesitant, but—it’s nice. To lean back in and cuddle close.

“You know you don’t have to—“ Steve starts but Eddie tuts him quiet in a flash.

“I do have to. Save my heart the aching, baby,” he presses lips to Steve’s temple and speaks there, drags his mouth wet to the skinL “more important, save yours the same.”

And Steve maybe can’t help but press his own lips first through the cotton of Eddie’s shirt straight to the center of his chest, and then leaning up a little, to the stretched-out collar sneaking the lowest peek of flesh beneath his clavicle: kisses there too, a little sloppy and a lot overfull of feeling as he breathes:

“I love you something wild, Eddie Munson,” and his pulse skips happily, a little dance under Steve’s mouth as he smiles before propping his chin on Eddie’s chest and looking up, meeting the eyes he knows are waiting for him, waiting to lock with his.

And when they do—even after all these years, and Steve has no expectation of it ever change with more to come—but when their eyes meet it’s Steve’s heart that goes giddy, a little off-kilter for joy, and it fucking is that, isn’t it.

It’s wild.

“I love metal, baby,” Eddie answers, and Steve tips his head a little; an odd direction, but he’s intrigued: “music and D&D and meeting the fans,” and Eddie’s playing with his hair again, and he knows what that does, but—

“I feel something so much bigger, for you,” and Jesus, Steve’s in love with maybe the only person in the world who can match him for romance; sometimes outstrips him, even. His heart goes back to dancing chaotic and he couldn’t fucking stifle the grin if he tried, and fuck if he’s ever planning to try.

“Fucking sap,” Steve mouths tight against Eddie’s chest, damp through his shirt for the chuckle he breathes there, weightless and marveling because he gets to have this; they get to have this: they’ve had this for so long and they get to keep it.

“You love it though,” Eddie runs his cheek back and forth across the top of Steve head, and Steve just hums:

“I don’t love it,” he insists with intent in it: “the bigger thing,” he corrects, makes clear: “I feel the bigger thing.”

And Eddie just ducks a smile against Steve’s hair, warm where as it spreads, and Steve can feel it; can’t help him mirror it full as he sighs:

“So tell me more about this pool.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

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[fadeintoyou1993]

i'm comin' out with my hands up

thick skull — paramore

— songs from my nancy playlist