#weird jock shit au

[unfinishedslurs]

weird jock shit (stonathan)

“Byers knows what I’m talking about,” Steve cheers, and follows it with a slap to Jonathan’s ass. A zing of heat goes up his spine. 

He straightens, startled, and he and Steve stare at each other. 

“Um.” He’s at a loss for words. There’s no way Steve Harrington actually just slapped his ass. That is not his reality. He refuses it.

His mouth is hanging open. He shuts it. 

“Sorry,” Steve says sheepishly. “Habit.”

His mouth opens and closes, until finally he forces words out. “Habit? I—who—Nancy?”

“Jesus, no!” Steve yelps. “No it’s, uh…theguysontheteam.” It’s rushed and under his breath, and Jonathan has no idea what he just said. 

“What?”

Steve lets his head thump onto the table. “It’s locker room shit,” he admits wearily.

Jonathan hasn’t set foot in the locker room since middle school. Mr. Grayson could yell at him for wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of the gym uniform all he wants, there’s no way in hell he was going into that cesspit of jocks who’d take one look at him and call him gay for being in the same room as them. 

“You just…routinely slap other guy’s asses? Like it’s normal?”

Steve nods, steadily growing redder. 

“And they called me queer?”

As soon as it’s out of his mouth, Jonathan wants to take it back. He basically just said that Steve and every other jock was doing gay shit. Steve might regret the shit he’s said and done, but that doesn’t mean he’s okay with someone implying things about him. 

To his surprise, Steve just chuckles. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, running a hand down his face. “It’s fucking weird, huh? Assholes, the lot of us.”

“You said it, not me.”

[devondespresso]

unexpected side effect of being a jock writing fanfic is that im spending far too much time looking into and explaining rope climbing for it to be in 7 lines of my fic

[slavicviking]

ok ok but Steddie Soulmate AU where you are physically incapable of lying to your soulmate

Eddie finding Steve with a busted face waiting for the kids in front of the arcade soon after Starcourt and Eddie’s already been having a bad day so he straight-up asks ‘what punched a hole in your face this time?’ and Steve’s like

‘Russian soldiers.’

And Eddie thinks, well, all right then, keep your secrets. That was weird but also fair, it wasn’t his place to ask that.

But then it turns out that the freshman kids Eddie knows are somehow friends with Steve Harrington. There’s this one very intense campaign session with demogorgons and Dustin, Lucas and Mike turn eerily quiet, get all twitchy in their seats. He asks Steve about it when he picks them up.

“We’re scared it’s going to come back.”

“Like, in a campaign?”

“No,” and the way Steve says this, through gritted teeth, looking mildly disgusted, makes Eddie think that, well, pretty as he may be, Steve Harrington is still King Steve, still an asshole.

They continue this strange dance of sorts for months, Eddie jabbing at Steve and the jock replying in the most bizarre ways - by now Eddie knows he’s surely (probably?) just snarking back. There is no way any of the outlandish shit Steve says can be true.

Right?

And then Chrissy dies. She dies in his trailer, high up in the ceiling, bones broken, and Eddie runs. He finds himself with a broken bottle held at Steve Harrington’s neck . And the weirdest thing? When Steve asks him what happened, strangely earnest and wide-eyed, he really wants to dismiss him, or lie. Except, he can’t.

Well fuck.

[lady-ashfade]

Things Modern Hotd Characters Do.

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Character: Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra Targaryen. (X reader)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Literally just some random thoughts that came into my head, and it’s a modern au.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: lromantic, short, cute and fluffy.

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

✬—Jacaerys Velaryon

You already know my boy is a jock of some sort, it’s a given. So he gives you his jersey to wear and I see him in hockey.

He also is the type of guy to at first watch you when you are around and at first he is shy about it and tries not to get caught. Then it’s just known to everyone that he is admiring you, like a drooling dog.

Gets shy when his friends bring it up.

You think you’re allowed to drive? Nope, his passages princess (no matter the gender)

I also see him proposing as soon as you both graduate, or when you both are still in your early 20s.

✬—Aemond Targaryen

Leather jacket. I don’t make the roles and has a motorcycle- The person the school fears after sending a kid to the hospital in middle school.

Before the relationship he talks to you at some points in the day, and then people literally stay away from you because they are scared of Him. So no bullies coming your way.

Takes you shopping because he likes to see you happy, and not the best at expressing his lives. So gifts and acts of service are his love language.

Keeps a photo of you in his wallet- don’t tell him I told you.

✬— Lucerys Velaryon the man I did this all for.

Watches all the Barbie movies with you while you play with his hair, and put it in weird and cute hairstyles.

One of the boys who is shy but will let you do anything to him. Like letting you putting makeup on him or carry you around.

He is so fucking shy but also a little shit. He’s so two faced. He will be pouting one minute and blushing like crazy when you kiss his cheek. And the next knocking you to the side and racing down the stairs.

Pulls pranks all the time that you didn’t talk to him for weeks but you can’t resist that cute face.

Walks everywhere while holding hands so you both don’t get separated 🥺

✬—Alicent Hightower

She’s the neighborhoods widow. And also on the watch council, so she is big into the community. She has been so sweet to you for years since you moved and always find yourself seeing her.

Goes out into her yard and gardens while watching you, not in a creepy way tho- just making a excuse to talk to you out of the blue.

Brings you sweets a lot and goes on coffee dates before dating.

Is so happy when you show her a real love relationship, and how you put her above everything. So she spoils you the same.

But keeps you away from her “stepdaughter” because she is afraid you’ll leave her.

✬—Rhaenyra Targaryen

Someone say mommy- the type of woman to buy you drink after making you flustered just by staring at you from across the bar. Like that cocky smirk of “i want to make you nervous” sexy smile you know?

Doesn’t let you think she is just a one time and dip. So she starts to send you gifts, to your work, house and almost anywhere. Texts you so much about going in dates.

You know kinda like a sugar momma for sure but loves you.

This girl will punch another woman for flirting with you and drag her by her hair- she’s so possessive.

Introduces you to her kids when you start dating because she wants you all to get along, and if you just immediately sweep them under your wing?

Already planning your wedding.

If you want more characters pls send them in the inbox.

[wheneverfeasible]

Cheerleader!Eddie AU pt. 1

POV: Eddie

When Eddie found a sobbing Chrissy in the restrooms after school, where he had been about to tag some stupid shit about one of the football players who had left him with a bruised face a previous week, he hadn’t expected it to lead to them becoming friends, her breaking up with her shithead boyfriend, or him joining the cheer squad.

Yet here he is, wearing the stupid school colors and his long hair tied up in a ponytail to match Chrissy’s, even down to the identical green scrunchie. Chrissy was lucky he loved her. Platonically, of course. They’d kissed after everything, figuring that’s that the thing between them was, but it ended up being like kissing a sibling (or so Eddie guessed, not ever having had one before), but quickly discovered that whatever middle school crush might have existed was well and truly gone.

Everything else was just right, however, and if such a thing as platonic soulmates existed, then Chrissy was well and truly his. She had to be, to get him to agree to this stupid shit.

He wasn’t an official member of the cheer squad at first, nothing more than a glorified backup, but he helped her in all the practices and learned all the moves and somehow, without realizing when, he started performing at games and pep rallies. Which didn’t help the queer rumors from spreading, even when Chrissy acted like his beard at first. Because the rumors would have been galling if they hadn’t been true.

Don’t get him wrong; he liked chicks too. But there was something to be said about seeing a pretty boy on his knees.

He played it up, taunting the other team and his own with blown kisses and suggestive hand motions with his tongue in his cheek, but he had cheerleader privilege, and Chrissy’s best friend privileges, so he actually managed to avoid anything more than pointed words and threats, which he then always turned into a kink thing to make the jocks uncomfortable.

“Oh, you’re right, Princess, I look amazing on my knees,” he cooed with a wink when King Steve himself deigned to be one of the insulting masses. Of course, all Harrington had said was that he should stop messing around and get back under the pyramid during cheer practice instead of poking fun at the basketball players on the other side of the gym.

Harrington always flushed whenever Eddie got too weird, too freaky, too queer, and it was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. Chrissy teased him about it when he’d go out of his way to harass Harrington, telling him to stop pulling the king’s pigtails, which he vehemently denied doing.

No way. Nuh uh. Not King Steve. Gag him with a spoon, or whatever they said in the movies Chrissy always made him watch.

Soon Harrington started snapping back, however, but with an amused smile on his face. More than that, he’d snapped at Hagan to leave Gareth alone when he’d come to playfully jeer at Eddie until they could head to Hellfire together. (Chrissy had actually taken DnD up too eventually, much to everyone’s surprise, though it was less surprising than her Level 7 Chaotic Neutral homebrew half-Orc male Barbarian whose tragic backstory was only known to Eddie so far, seeing as he had helped her craft Uragoth the Undaunted.)

To say that Eddie was surprised when Harrington of all people protected a freak was an understatement. And then it kept happening. Harrington always stepped in if he saw any freak or nerd being bullied, he even used logic, pointing out that Eddie was both freak and cheerleader, so going after the freaks was going after him and the cheer squad, and did any jock really want to piss off the cheerleaders?

A jock using logic? Unheard of!

Eddie was a little flattered though to think that his freaks had best friend privileges as well because of him, that he could be the shield offering them protection simply by straddling the line between the two sects at school.

Harrington never stopped snarking with Eddie, however, always calling him a freak but always with that smile that almost spoke of something…fond.

And then it was the day of the big game, the championship, and Chrissy was giggling as she tried to pretend like she was having second thoughts, even as her hands never faltered getting him ready. They, and the rest of the squad who had slowly warmed up to Eddie, had scoured the rule book to make certain he could do it, smirking amongst themselves at the surprise they had in stock.

Eddie waited at the end of the line, waited for their introduction, and then he was running in with the rest of the cheer squad, his pale and hairy legs flashing beneath the short green skirt. Gareth and the rest of the freaks screamed, sending out wolf whistles and making enough noise to draw the attention of anyone who might not have noticed yet.

Eddie only had eyes for one person though.

Harrington’s gaze was fixed solely on him as he jogged out wearing the female cheerleading uniform, a bright pink high on cheekbones and his mouth agape, and Eddie thought he had even seen the guy swallow as his eyes took in Eddie in a skirt.

The game went exactly as the cheer squad had hoped, their secret routine putting Eddie front and center, and he took great enjoyment in rolling his hips suggestively and blowing his kisses and winks as he taunted the opposing team, resulting in more than one fumble when he distracted them. The fact that Harrington seemed equally distracted seemed something else entirely.

As well as the fact that Harrington roughly fouled the player from the other team that Eddie had pointedly flirted with during their halftime routine.

Hawkins Tigers won in the end, easily, with Harrington scoring the final winning points like the king he was, pointing at Eddie right before he took the shot with a wink. Eddie rolled his eyes, almost hoping Harrington would miss in retaliation for the tease. Instead, Harrington ended the game as the buzzer sounded with his last three-pointer and the crowd went wild.

Typical.

Less typical, however, was how Harrington strode through the crowd right after, bypassing the celebrating teammates and cheerleaders and fans that had streamed onto the court, to head straight for Eddie. Eddie was given just the barest moment to wonder if he was about to be hate crimed when Harrington’s hand landed on his back, the other cupping the back of his head, and he was spun into a dip as Harrington leaned in for a kiss.

Except Harrington didn’t immediately kiss him, he hovered above his lips, his eyes looking into Eddie’s asking for permission, and really…what more could Eddie do except wrap his arms around Harrington’s neck and close the distance?

If later that night Eddie was still wearing that skirt as he and Harrington came to an understanding, well, no one needed to know.

And if the next night it was Steve wearing the cheerleading skirt…that was between him and his king.

Part 2

[ur-mousey]

If you’re doing requests could you write smth smutty with jeffery from class of 09 x female reader w some dubcon

Benzo-Addict ~

- Yandere!Jeffery x F!Reader -

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Part Two, Part Three

summary Drugs have always been your friend. A source of courage and tonight's no different. Now it's time to fuck a nerd. Hope your BF understands. 1.8k

warning college AU, mature, non-con, heavy drug use, hostage situation, violence.

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** Choice ** Head home, hang in the res quad with the other losers, or hot box it in a classroom with Nicole and Jecka. * click *

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"Nicole, what the fuck is a benzosexual exactly?" Your head whipped to the side at record speed. "Sounds..." You wormed your finger into a salty chip bag while pondering something profound to say other than the obvious: "Not good." There goes anything English has taught you about synonyms. You popped a chip in your greedy mouth. The tang if vinegar and talt collided on your tongue. This shit was disgusting.

Yet, you were on the cusp of moaning with each solid crunch. But, you held your tongue at bay.

"I feel like we had this conversation before." Nicole hummed around the shared point. Inhale. Exhale. Then, she expelled a puff of smoke into the dust flurries kicked up in their shuffle.

The classroom was barren of decore. Stiff and desolate, a reminder that teachers truly made the space, whereas professors rotate. And this fact was wholly evident. The walls stay bare through decades of season. Autumn is born in beige and Spring arises in that same fate, ending the year in beige.

It's astonishing how this educational prison stood in the glory of its singular doodle of Homer with nothing accompanying it on the wall.

And the desks were neatly arranged, bolted to the ground. Only the chairs beckoned students to sit as they were haphazardly thrown. It seemed as if they patiently waited for the next class's arrival. Lonely in nature until chosen for the hour. But, Friday afternoon meant that classes seldom came to these halls

"It's because we had, Nicole." Jecka retorted before gesturing to you, "She just wasn't here for it."

Nicole scoffed, "Sucks for her that she missed all the pedophiles. Now she gets the regular-enough shit, aka standard rapists. I bet even then, they have CP somewhere on their computer."

Jecka puffed her chest up before sighing dramatically. "Remind me again why are you still Hitler? Oh, wait you just did. Grow out of it."

“I’ve grown, obviously~ because I can’t call every man a pedophile in relationship to me. Your whore sister, in 10th grade, she’s surrounded by them by the dozen… See!? Development, bitch.”

** Bzzzz **

"Okay, Nicole is Hitler, but what's a benzosexual?" You urged the pair on. You felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. But you decided to ignore it for now.

"Someone attracted to the unconscious," Jecka twirled her fingers around a singular strand of honey-blonde hair. It almost glowed too brightly in the setting sun. "There was this stupid, insufferable, jock named Kylar at our high school. Who was constantly -and I mean it, constantly- putting weird shit in girls drinks. They'll pass out, and I know he got off to it. A girl that helpless..."

** Bzzzz ** ** Bzzzz **

"Isn't that illegal? Like, shouldn't you guys've reported him?"

"He played lacrosse," Nicole muttered. "Reporting it wouldn't do shit. Sports players get molested all the time by their grimy coaches, and it’s the girl's fault.”

** Bzzzz ** ** Bzzzz ** ** Bzzzz ** ** Bzzzz **

"Truly the Pessimist," You hissed through gritted teeth while reaching for another bite to calm your munchies.

Nicole's stare momentarily flashed to your face, eyes redden and lazy, smoke swirling out her nose, before she leaned further in.

** Bzzzz ** ** Bzzzz ** ** Bzzzz **

"It's Jeffery, huh?"

Your phone was currently blowing itself shitless. The tone of each call or message traveled upwards into the silence. The vibrations climbed your spinal cord like a wooden ladder, propping its feet between your bones, propelling into your eardrums. You cringed. All of this, why? A single moment was swiftly grasped by Jeffery's sudden insistence on a response to whatever you didn't care about. You two were meant to be ex-lab partners, not penpals of 1000+ messages each.

You retrieved your phone. 20 missed calls and 50+ texts.

"Forget creeps like Kylar when there's Jeffery. God couldn't keep him away from us. It's always the kids like him who don't go missing."

Jecka cackled, and her chin came to rest on the top of your shoulder. She read while you scrolled languidly. "Um, good luck playing into his fetishes. Being his... mommy!? And all. Meow~"

You flushed all red, "Don't read it!"

This isn’t the first time Jecka teased you with the force of a rabid cat caller. She did it unabashedly and the pain of her comments left its marks on your face. You made a simple mistake, and that was defending Jeffery during the first week of classes. To you, he was a sweet, smart and charismatic guy, albeit all, a tad socially awkward. Scratch that -he was a lost cause concerning social interactions. It wasn’t horrendous or anything. It made talking to him before stress-free. Now it’s a different story.

There were times as Jeffery’s lab partner that should’ve had you sprinting out of Environmental Science. But, you sucked your tongue tight to the roof of your mouth and smiled without the corners reaching your eyes. He’d crossed the lines of your acquaintanceship too many times to count. You’re the one at fault, no? You were the one that led him on. Why the fuck didn’t you get angry at him but at yourself?

One random Monday, Jeffery gave you a hentai DVD to you with an accompanying notebook which explained his depraved inner thoughts; '@ 1:47, I watched as the 40-feet cat women stepped on guy's penis. And I wish that were you doing it to me The sight made my hand go faster till total completion.'

And frankly, you didn't want to know that. Jeffery, the weird otaku obsessed with NaruParty13, whom you felt bad for, proved to be a complete freak.

With your first semester ending, you closed that chapter of being his lab partner. In came new housing, with your boyfriend and away from the dorms, and less frequent trips to the dining hall, which meant fewer interactions with Jeffery. For literal fuck sake, you shared zero classes together, nor were you a part of the same major. Your paths strayed from one another. You entertained small talk here and there when it felt inevitable. Any sane person would let this lack of relationship go. Not Jeffery. 

"I'm not playing into anyone's kinks aside from my own." You stuck your tongue out, shoving Jecka away.

"And sometimes your sleaze boyfriend."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm perfect 10 with a high libido." You mocked, matching your pitch to Jecka's. "And Cody's not a total sleaze."

Nicole tapped your shoulder with the joint in hand, "He's as depraved as any other man. Hence the usage of the word total."

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** Choice ** Snatch the weed, or confront Jeffery. * click *

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You could deal with Jeffery another day.

You were like a kite soaring through the sky. Your mind fell far into a different plane of existence than your own, but you didn't mind. The world was spinning. And, if you were in a room, you couldn't tell. No amount of stable ground could keep your feet stationed. Your vision was decorated in fuzz and pixels. And, in a twist of fate, you thought yourself tumbling forward.

You had taken it. Nicole's shit- that joint was strong as fuck. The first drag knocked your chest back in reverie. Yet you kept ripping. By the time you had left campus, you were inflicted with giggles, and you'd remained starry-eyed throughout dinner.

Then came the Friday night club scene. You downed shots like a bad bitch. Ghandi would be proud.

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You stumbled through the shared flat with Cody. Your lips entangled with each other in battle. His hands groped your hips and pinched its flesh with fervent joy. His lips were chapped and his tongue held the remnants of beer. You enjoyed its taste against the mint of your gum.

Your boyfriend pulled away. Your name breached passed moans and whines, sobering your tequila-filled belly slightly. "Babe, please grab the Percocet... In the cabinet." Cody damn near whined. You nodded furiously, and your brain rattled against your skull.

He smacked a sloppy kiss on your forehead before shooing you away.

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** Choice ** Sober up with water, or take a dive into prescription pill wonderland. * click *

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And down the hatch, the Percocet goes.

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"You... you little shi- Fuck!"

Cody? Was that you?

His words felt miles away and your head ached. You knew Cody was crying really ugly. Was he talking to you? Were you dying? You were neither here nor there. And faintly, you registered the sound of skin impacting skin. It was unmistakable.

Cody screeched, "That hurts dipshit!"

"You ruined her. People ruined her," A disembodied voice spoke over you. You groaned, head swirling with more things than one. Could it be a dream? Where were you? How were you here? If you opened up your eyes, would you be able to see? "She was absolutle... Beauty! A perfect girl rivaling those of the anime girls in Doki Doki Daisuke. It was as if God answered my prayers and brought her to life in front of me. That's who she is to me -perfect as the day I met her... Before she met mean girls like Nicole. And, before she allowed you to defile her."

"Fuck," Cody screeched. "What the hell are you talking about!? We were dating before that whore, Nicole!" Who are you talking to?

Cody? I'm scared. I can't... get out of my own head.

His voice continued. "Look man, she was never going to be with you. We started going steady in high school. You were some bizarre loser, a complete neet, who got assigned as her lab partner. For fuck sake, she would've ignored you still without me or her friends. You are just a nuisance who can't take no for an answer! Is this your final attempt to get her to look at you!? Huh... HUH!? Well? Is it working? Does she see you now? Fuck no -she's unconscious! Guess who you're talking to? ME!!!"

Fingers carded over your scalp, itching at your crown. You tingled all over, and the coldest breath ghosted over your cheeks. "I would treat her better. I would put her on a pedestal that rivals Yuno Gasai, whom I believe to be the sluttiest and most desirable anime girl."

Was that voice Jeffery? You managed to whine at that, and you were promptly shushed -consoled like a child.

"She's like this because of you. You're supposed to protect her. What boyfriend allows his girlfriend to get this drugged out."

Silence.

Cody? Are you still there? Like actually, there? I don't understand. Why is this happening? What even is happening to me?

After a while, your boyfriend tsked, "She's a fucking addict, and it is hot as shit. Imagine what a drugged-up slut would do to please you."

Pause.

"Besides, You aren't at all above it. Don't act like you're better than me. Ain't it true that you roofie bitches? Hehe, now you're coming after my druggie girlfriend. Some SHIT!!"

"Y'a know, you talk too much," Jeffery whispered. And you found the strength within yourself to peel your eyes open. You were home. The few nicknacks you displayed glared into your retinas. Once, twice, it felt unbearable to blink. Your gaze started at the carpet, swooping to the left then the right, along the walls, and down to center

Your boyfriend's stared back at you. Then came the...

Screams.

You hadn't comprehended the missing beats of Cody's responses until then. In that state of limbo, words tied together rhythmically. Now, each plea and wail came out differently past battered lips. He begged you to run through swollen tongues and lips.

Each pause was a catch of breath. Cody's chest rose and fell in quick succession. His face was bloodied. Swirled vermillion, slathered by a pair of hands. Where the original wound is, you couldn't tell. It was all over the place. Ropes circled his chest, soaking up red, and kept him strapped to a wooden dining chair.

"Co-" You sputtered. You couldn't stop the onslaught of coughs that inched its way up your throat. Before you could say anything more, Jeffery's palm smashed against your mouth. He finally gained your attention, all while waving a knife around.

"My darling sweetheart," Jeffery cooed with adoration. "I'll handle the trash. Go back to sleep. I was just about to silence him."

You wanted to vomit. You hoped that the acidity would transport you to a reality where you were kneeling over a toilet. Or a bush, fuck it. It could be anywhere than this. You'll take on hang-over Central despite any day over this. You'll say fuck drugs and then by next week, you're on it again.

You just couldn't stay away from Percs and Robo.

Jeffery's appearance was disheveled, a stark contrast from what you were accustomed to. His hair was overgrown and unkempt with inky strands that poked from every angle. It was utterly impossible to look away. His crazed eyes darted across your face, searching within you for something you weren't sure you had to offer.

He turned from you, speaking to Cody. "Stop screaming! I'll gut you if you interfere."

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** Choice ** Figure out what's next, or miss part 2, bitch. * click *

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Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo! Part Two, Part Three

Due to the nature of the game, I tried writing differently than what I consider normal. But I had so much fun writing for this fandom. Can't wait to do it again.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 24

part 1 | part 23 | ao3

cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death

"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."

"Can I help you?" Max seethes.

Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?

"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.

"Who cares?" she bites back.

The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"

"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"

Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"

"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.

"Robin, what—?"

"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"

—

"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.

"An intervention."

Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.

"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."

A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.

"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."

"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.

"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."

'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."

"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."

"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.

"My parents are amazing, thank you!"

"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."

"Like I said: amazing."

Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"

"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.

"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."

She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."

—

Steve’s hammered.

Whoops.

Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.

He meant to get politely drunk.

A socially appropriate amount.

But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.

He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.

Five?

Six, maybe?

Fuck.

“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.

“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—

Oh, no.

Ohhhh, no.

Now? Really?

Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.

—

part 25

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

[ack-cough]

There he is Everyone's local therapy cat

Random notes cause I'm definitely not writing a whole fic

-In the beginning of his change to be a Smart Jock! (The cat part is unrelated) Pronouns are still He/Him but will occasionally throw in a few She and hers to test the waters.

- The family's big strong kitty man to help them all cope with trauma from saving Vulgarde! Don't worry about his own feelings those aren't important right now

- This is very much the "Isabeau's internal monologue can be fuckin deranged" AUs so no matter how much he tries there's still remnets of that weird shy kid he used to be, especially now since new found cat brain and changing again.

He definitely has moments of trying to remember how to be a person properly. But you will get dialogue like

(You love Mirabelle! She's so cute and brave and nice. Part of you wishes you could put her in one of those little bug jars with the best stick and leaf the world could ever create... Don't say that. That's weird that's off putting)

(Odile, Odiee, Dile! So wise and perspective. Maybe you'll take up Odile-ology, put her under a microscope, open up her skull and sift through her brain.. BAD BAD Isabeau! thinking about that makes you sound like a serial killer, cut it out)

-He does deal with OCD like symptoms and at one point starts avoiding eye contact or straight up hiding in his room due to intrusive thoughts and urges becoming too overwhelming.

-I wanna say at least once he lost track of what he was doing and brought back a dead bird as a gift and it scared the shit out of the others.

[izukusjuicythighs]

bkdk fics i read because was it ever casual

Horikoshi keeps feeding us bkdk crumbs like wtf??at this point they HAVE to be canon bkdk hospital kiss confirmed I was izukus freckle ALSO IM KINDA IN A BLOCK RN whenever I finish a fic my yappin brain always has something to say but rn its real quiet so uh🤡

left me no choice(but to stay here forever)

summary: Izuku learns early on in life that the people he loves will always leave him.

So when Kacchan asks him to be his boyfriend, Izuku kisses him and starts grieving for the inevitable.

words: 6,925

chapters: 3/4(updating)

notes: im quite aware that its a bitchy move to inflict pain on ppl but jm gonna do it anyways lol READ THIS AND WEEP I literally wanted to gorge my heart out and then slap all of my love into izuku idk it evokes complicated feelings??normally hate reading unfinished fics BUT THIS!!gave me a life changing experience within 7000words dammit

be my good luck charm

summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest traveling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

words: 6785

chapters: 1/1

notes: cute lil oneshot for yall cuz mha fans r in dire need of fluff rn yknow why🤭 how to date a hottie101 by bkg: set ur crush on fire to show ur undying love(WRITE IT DOWN WRITE IT DOWN)

Barberries and Variegated Knotweeds

summary: The Fight Another Day Agreement is a required legal document for all professional heroes. In the event of a life-threatening injury and the hero and their proxies are unable to respond on their behalf, medical professionals may do whatever it takes to keep the hero alive.

For Izuku, whatever it takes means removing flowers from his lungs, forcing him to forget about the love of his life. The aftermath leaves Izuku bewildered at the sight of a man with spiky blond hair and red eyes the color of Japanese barberries.

words: 19,286

chapters: 4/4

notes: YET ANOTHER HANAHAKI FIC WITH IZUKU WHUMP I just love seeing my favs go through it🤠I've read so many hanahaki fics ud think I'd be used to it but NOPE THIS SHIT HAD ME ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT was ready to downgrade 1 dimension to solve this shitstorm myself

If It's You

summary: “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Katsuki said. “You did not just ask me—me—to try and date your loser step-brother.”

He wasn’t even going to say Deku’s name out loud. Wasn’t giving him the time of day, even in a conversation about him. That weird awkward virgin was not worth his precious time, and certainly not what Kirishima was suggesting.

“But Bakugouuu,” Kirishima wailed, hanging off Katsuki’s arm with monster meathead jock strength. “My dad said I can’t date if Deku doesn’t date. Do you understand what that means?”

“Less chance of knocking someone up and creating more of you in the world?”

words: 16,863

chapters: 1/1

notes: 10 things I hate about you but make it bkdk I LOVE THIS SHIT angsty dramatic misunderstanding high school aus are my JAM also somewhat gives off from the sidelines vibes so if ur into that defo read

Down the Red Line

summary: His mom is the first person to know about it. She finds out when Izuku asks ( in a very cute three-year-old way) why can’t he see the red line that connected him to Kacchan in the last picture they've taken. The one where they were about to enter Kindergarten on their first day.

"Red line?"

"Yeah, Mamma. This," Little Izuku says, raising his pinky finger to show her the thing tied to it.

Izuku has been able to see the red strings of fate since birth. It's no surprise that his is connected to Katsuki.

words: 7,804

chapters: 1/1

notes: one of my absolute favs since 2021 MAKES ME SO FUKCIN MAD I have to put my phone down and contemplate life for a few mjns while reading it but it's so good??my red string is tied to thjs fic pls

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt3 to the Wingman Wayne AU | AO3 link

Eddie knows he was right as soon as he sees Steve: the guy is wearing Levi jeans and a dark-blue polo shirt, and if it wasn't for his tinted chapstick, he would have the appearance of the single most boring straight jock in the universe. He notices how Steve's brown eyes flash up and down Eddie's whole body before fixing back on his face again.

He snorts. 'Told you I'm nothing like my uncle.'

'Yeah, you definitely weren't lying,' Steve comments dryly, and Eddie can't help but laugh.

'You still wanna get that coffee or do you prefer to run the hell away from the freak now that you still can?' he asks while wiggling his eyebrows.

'Hey, you won't hear me complain about a free coffee,' Steve says, already holding the door to the cafe open for Eddie like a gentleman who is taking some perfectly girly girl out on a date.

They get their coffees and sit down at a table next to the window, and Eddie wonders what the hell he should be talking about with this guy he so painfully clearly has nothing in common with.

'So you're into baseball?' he asks – it's basically the only thing he knows about Steve and it seems like a safe enough conversation starter.

Steve nods. 'Yeah, back in high school I used to play basketball and I was on the swimming team, so I never really got to train my baseball skills much, but I really enjoy watching. It's one of those sports that always has you, like, on the edge of your seat, you know?'

Eddie snorts. 'I do not.'

'Not a sports guy?'

'Nope.'

Eddie picks up his coffee cup and blows into the steam, just to give himself something to do; the silence between them feels awkward.

'So what are you into?' Steve asks.

'Um... I'm in a band. Metal.'

Steve nods, a blank look in his eyes – of course he cares just as little about metal as Eddie cares about sports.

'And I play D&D.'

He expects another blank look, or – best case scenario – a confused What's that? which will at least help him keep the conversation going for another few minutes, but to his utter surprise, he sees Steve's brown eyes light up.

'I know that!' It sounds like Steve is even surprising himself with that, which is oddly cute, somehow. 'My brother's like, obsessed with that shit.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, I mean, he isn't actually my brother – he's, like, my ex-girlfriend's little brother's friend, I used to babysit them all the time.' He suddenly stops, as if he's embarrassed by himself. 'I'm sorry, that probably sounded really weird.'

But Eddie grins at him. I like weird, he almost says, but he realizes just in time how that might sound and stops himself.

'Nah, not really,' he says instead. 'It's not like this is an actual date, so you're allowed to talk about your ex-girlfriend as much as you want.'

'I don't –' A blush starts coloring Steve's cheeks as he closes his mouth, then opens it again. 'That's not why I brought her up,' he finally says.

'So are you bisexual?' Eddie asks, suddenly finding himself curious about Steve's story.

Steve shrugs. 'Yeah, I guess,' he says, like he doesn't care much about it. 'I was surprised how your uncle could tell, actually.'

Eddie leans closer towards him. 'It's the lips,' he stage-whispers conspiratorially.

A frown appears between Steve's eyebrows. 'You know, I never really understood that,' he says. 'Why are girls supposed to wear a whole face full of makeup and do I get weird stares because I like to give my lips a subtle glow? What's that all about? Who even made those rules?'

Eddie feels a huge grin spread across his face. Who would've thought that Steve the baseball guy would be so fucking fascinating?

'I dunno, you tell me,' Eddie answers. He glances at Steve's polo. 'By the looks of it, you know much more about that forced conforming shit than I do.'

'You're really lucky with your uncle, you know,' Steve says. 'I could tell he cares about you a lot. It's pretty amazing how supportive he is.'

Suddenly, Eddie is feeling exposed by the intensity of Steve's brown-eyed stare. He averts his gaze and takes the last sip of his coffee.

'Yeah, I know,' he says, quietly. 'He's pretty awesome. But a terrible matchmaker.' He smiles as he looks into Steve's eyes again.

Steve chuckles. 'Totally. Well, I finished my coffee, so we can get outta here and you can go tell your uncle he should never play wingman for you again. Just make sure to also say hi to him from me. And maybe thank him for landing me that free drink.'

'Actually...' Eddie hesitates. 'You're still totally not my type, don't worry about that, but it's actually nice to talk to another queer person, you know? There's not that many of us around here. So if you want to, I could give you another free coffee?'

There's something adorably shy about Steve's smile. 'Yeah, that – that sounds great.'

Pt4

My apologies to everyone being all excited about Eddie instantly falling in love with Steve the moment he saw him, I gotta make them suffer some more first ;P Also, all your comments and tags are making me ridiculously happy, honestly!! I’m kinda overwhelmed by the response, and yes i am going back to read them multiple times bc that’s how lovely they are <333

Taglist: @phantypurple @love-kurdt @eddiemunsonswife @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @swimmingbirdrunningrock @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @yourebuckingkiddingme @th3-r4t-k1ng @messrs-weasley @moonshadows-13 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @xjessicafaithx @yournowheregirl @henderdads @lwhoscribbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @rainydays35�� @cassaloopa @skeliiix @thesuninyaface @silversnaffles @jestyzesty @4nemo1egend @ace-of-foxes @harringtonsgother @thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @thereindeerlady @jillfriend @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gamerdano @spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @00biscuit @shadow-bender @mixsethaddams @steve-the-hairrington @episcogoth @caligularib @gaydrieeen @winterbuckwild @bookbinderbitch @daysarestranger @nonbinary-eddie-munson @fangirltofangod @solalasoforth @obsessivlyme @slit-wrist @fxndom-hoe @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @joruni @roastingdragon @lenore1232 @princessstevemunson @cuips-not-cute @munsonsuccubus @justalittlefungi @cherrycolas-things @nitrilexam @thepainisspicy @hopefulslothcollecter @whatisreggieshortfor @doctorqueensanatomy @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sadcanadianwinter @iamsotiredman @orangeandthefairroadkill @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @b-icetea @freddykicksasses @faery-god @poleaxed-aloe @mamaclownhunter @paperbackribs @blvckwidow @mightbeasleep @butuglypeoplefucktoo @lolawon @angryavocadofrog @iwouldsail @livelaughlexa

[strayingsocks]

highschool au fem skk doodle!!

fem soukoku has been on my mind ... they're just so cute and fluffy ghrhrgr!!!!

under the cut are headcanons/backstory ?? i didn't mean to write this much but i got carried away </3

i see dazai as someone with shit posture because they're insecure about how lanky they look compared to the other people in class, even if she still teases chuuya for being short. she also wears opaque black stockings to hide her legs, and keeps her skirt long. she doesn't like how her hair is, but only chops it all off when she leaves for college. she's Very unpopular, but she doesn't really care. she prefers it that way, though she could do without the gossiping.

chuuya's a jock . she started growing her hair out at the start of highschool, and is the best student in sports in her class. she hates wearing her blazer, finding it restricting, even in winter. she tries to sneakily make her skirt shorter because she thinks it looks cooler, but she doesn't like that it limits how much she can do exercise wise (she likes running around and moving a lot). she's popular with her class, more so with the guys, both for her appearance and skills and for being kind to everyone despite her short temper.

dazai and chuuya are an unlikely duo- no one really gets why they hang out with one another so often. even though it seems like they hated each other at first, they're pretty much attached to the hip, and are very protective over one another. they walk home together, and dazai sleeps over at chuuya's whenever she can.

chuuya found dazai weird and rude at first, but now she's more fond of them, she would never admit that, though. she's the reason why dazai's hair hasn't devolved into a birds nest.

dazai found chuuya annoying and naive at first. ... she still finds her annoying. in an affectionate way. she likes to tease her to hear her roll her eyes, and seeing her face scrunch up.

there's more but i don't want to write too much ... and i haven't developed them completely yet JSHDB these are just doodles i did at college

THANK U FOR READING :3 don't mind typos i don't feel like reading it over SJHBDAJ

[bull-shit-suji]

kuro modern au stuff that i word vomited into my notes app

kind of a Vincent summoned sebastian to save ciel so ciel doesnt actually owe sebas anything

amnesia? idk

single dad moment! except theres this other dad whos kinda find.. (cough agni)

i think vincent was like do NOT let ciel know ur a demon so sebastian keeps it a secret but he doesnt have a good handle on like. Humans. so he kinda does a bad job and ciel definitely knows that he's weird but doesnt say anything. will go out of his way to gaslight you when sebastian does weird shit because he thinks its funny

"hey uhh is your dad levitating?"

"no?"

"he's flying above the school rn"

"that's a bird"

u think suddenly being a butler is hard? have fun being a dad bitch

alois is there but thats complicated. claude and hannah are DIVORCED but on decent terms (i think claude is like. toxic alpha male podcast type guy) and claude sees alois on alternating weekends!

are they demons? i dont know

i think ciel and alois can be friends. platonically. alois would probably say yes if ciel wanted to be romantic but i Promise you he does not. they are just pals :)

im saying ciel has a crush on elizabeth because i can (she's not his cousin here). emo boy x sunny church girl. said sunny church girl has to ask the mcdonalds employees for the blue raspberry slushie they forgot to put in ciel's order because emo boy is too scared.

IM 13 EVERYTHING SUCKSSSSS

grelle is actually living her best life transitioned with anne so they are ciel's aunts on his late mom's side. i think grelle likes ciel. mom figure moreso than anne is.

ciel owns four bongs and definitely a vape or two. come on now

he's also probably got celiac and is lactose intolerant he is just a feeble boy i think

he listens to twenty one pilots. sorry! sorry.

ciel is goth alois is punk those r kinda just the rules

ciel is insanely smart top of the class this shit is easy for him.

yells at sebastian daily. figured out what happened with his real parents around the age of uhhhh 12 or 13? has been an absolute terror ever since

"it was really nice of your dad to bring cookies for the field trip!"

"i hope he fucking chokes on one"

"oh!"

sebastian and claude are pta rivals.

"is this lemon bread store bought? my, how... efficient!"

"you made these from scratch? i can tell."

"i've never seen an interesting looking salsa! very exciting."

ciel purposefully invites alois over constantly bcus it pisses sebas off. alois is Terrified of that man.

"go grab the chips from the kitchen"

"but... what if mr michaelis is in there?"

"mr m- you mean my dad? tell him he can shove a faucet up his ass"

"id rather die on the spot"

sebastian will yell at ciel and is maybe a little emotionally unavailable but he's trying!!! it's hard :(

does that Dad thing where he comes into ciels room and is like hey bud......... what r u up to..

ciel and seiglinde r also palls. the smartest people in school

lizzie is a JOCK. she plays softball.

alois is a theater kid come on now

ciel is best at writing and literature analysis, specifically fiction. enjoys history, language, and Some sciences as well.

nerd

au where myspace is still a thing ciel has a myspace account

he definitely writes shitty poetry

wants to major in business

alois is a glee and pitch perfect truther

[thefreakandthehair]

WIP Weekend

thank you to @formosusiniquis for the tag (like, two weeks ago, but we'll just ignore that)! there are a few WIPs in the scrivener trenches right now, but these are the ones I'm feeling more inspired by right now. 💕

The Rules:

In a reblog (or a new post w/ rules attached) post up to five (5) file names of your wips. Not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

The WIPS:

football au (god I really need to title this one already)

lover's rage

asmr!eddie x insomniac!steve

donuts & dragons (new idea)

snippet from football au and some tags below the cut:

“It’s a king sized bed, Harrington. Why are you being so fucking weird about this? Do you have space issues? Do you think I snore or like, thrash in my sleep? Is it— oh God, don’t tell me it’s because I’m gay.” “Jesus Christ, no!" Steve sputters, shaking his head furiously. "I’m not like that. We’ve shared a bed before! I just— I don’t think it’s a good idea this time, okay?” Eddie remembers waking up with Steve curled up against him, Eddie’s arms wrapped loosely around his middle and their legs tangled together. They haven’t spoken about it since.   “Well, you’re sure acting a lot like other people I’ve gotten stuck sharing rooms with who are like that, so what gives? Now that we’re winning and everyone’s screaming your name again, is sharing a bed with the lowly running back beneath you, Mr. King in The North? Is it—” Steve cuts him off and pushes him against the door.  “Just— just—” “Just what, Steve?” He doesn’t want to fight Steve. He’s not totally sure he can hold his own, but he might have the upperhand in dexterity and sheer junkyard dog mentality. Steve stops him in his tracks before he spirals too out of control.  “Just— shut the fuck up.” He grits out, his hands tangling in Eddie’s hair still shoved against the door. The words barely leave his mouth before Steve surges forward.  Steve kisses him.  Steve kisses him.  Better yet, Steve lets Eddie kiss him back. It’s rough and sloppy, too much teeth, but Eddie doesn’t give a shit. He’s kissing Steve Harrington and even if it’s a mistake, even if he’s just another experiment for a curious but closeted football jock, he’ll take it.

no pressure tags: @steddie-island @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @starrystevie @runninriot @wynnyfryd

@morningberriesao3 @wormdebut @sidekick-hero @steddieasitgoes @steddieas-shegoes

@vecnuthy @matchingbatbites @augustjustice @doublecherrypiediscosuperfly @cuoredimuschio

@hbyrde36 @momotonescreaming @thisapplepielife @steddielations @rozzieroos

@lihhelsing @shares-a-vest @kkpwnall @judasofsuburbia @fragilecapric0rnn + anyone else who wants to jump in!

[strangersteddierthings]

Writing Prompt for this list, requested by @suddenlyinlove. #42. "His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow." and #30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Details - This is an AU with a twist I don't wanna spoil so like... suspend your disbelief please. Period-typical homophobia and thus, the use of slurs derogatorily. Stir clear if that is triggering.

Posted on Ao3 because it is long (9.7k) and it might be easier to read there for some.

-

August 25, 1984 - Two Days Before the Start of School

There's a good view of the whole party from their dark corner of the yard, where Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are huddled around him. Eddie'd told Carol Perkins he'd show but only if his friends could come, too. If she wanted weed, then his friends could have beer.

Plus, if he was going to suffer, they were going to suffer. That's what friendship was about.

"His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow," Eddie mutters, glaring in the general direction of Steve 'The Hair' Harrington as he laughs at something (he's clutching his beer awfully tight for someone having fun- Nope, Eddie doesn't care).

"Right? Can see it ballooning right before our eyes," Jeff says. This is why Jeff is his best friend. They hate on the same things. People. Whatever.

"Sorry for you guys," Eddie fakes sympathy, "once I graduate, I won't have to deal with it. Let me know if anyone shoves you into a locker though. I'll slash some tires or refuse to sale 'em weed. Whichever hurts them more."

"You said that last year," Gareth says. "And yet."

Eddie pretends to stab himself in the heart, falling to the ground dramatically, gasping like he was dying before finally stilling, staring as unblinking as he could at the sky.

Jeff nudges him with his foot, "good riddance, Munson. People will remember you weirdly."

Eddie breaks character to grin up, lifting a hand that Jeff takes and helps pull him up. "Remembered weirdly is what it's all about."

"Speaking of weird, Harrington's being... weird," Gareth says, tilting his head slightly, still looking in the direction they'd all been looking at just moments before. "When you just dropped he like... I dunno. Weird."

"What, weird how. What did he do?" Eddie whips to look at Harrington, who is looking back, looking worried, and is slightly closer than he was before. Eddie watches as Harrington's eyes track his entire self, looking for what, Eddie can't even begin to understand. He can visibly see the tension leave Harrington's body, pretty sure even his friends clocked that (even though they have less experience in the Harrington-watching department than himself).

"When you dropped, he like... rushed forward. I think he caught how fucking weird that would be for him to do 'cause he stopped just as quickly. That's weird, right?"

"Really fucking weird."

Harrington steps back into his friend group, more on the outside than he was before. (Did seem like people loved Hargrove a bit more than Harrington these days).

Eddie and his friends go back to trash talking everyone they can set their eyes on. It's easy to do, what with being ignored in the corner again. Occasionally Eddie is flagged down by someone, or they try and make eye contact (which is worse), so he huffs as though put upon and marches off to a different corner of the Perkins' backyard to sale his contraband.

(If he's marking it up, well, these rich kids can afford it.)

Anyway, their trash talk always seems to come back to Harrington. None of them acknowledge it out loud but Harrington's the easiest to shit talk in public because he's the safest. He's egotistical, kinda airheaded, and an asshole, but in a different way than Hagan or Jackson or most of the other jocks.

Harrington is the kind of asshole that you introduce yourself to 15 times and unless you're 'popular' he doesn't bother to remember he's already met you. Hagan and Jackson are assholes that give you a swirlee if you sneeze wrong near them, or will call you a fag before gut punching you behind the bleachers because they think they caught you staring at them (which Eddie was not ((It was Harrington he was staring at)).

He's safe to shit talk because he doesn't get physical (couldn't win a fight if the rumors were true (Also they all saw how he looked after Jonathan got him)) and rarely gets confrontational (less so with each passing year). Eddie thinks that's his ego - he's so full of himself that anything you say about him can't possibly affect him. (What are the words of a peasant in the face of a king, after all?)

That's not to say they haven't fucked up and said something at just the right time to provoke Harrington in the past, because they all have, but it's typically his lackeys that jump in defense, that say something first to defend Harrington. And The King will let them bark and growl just enough to put the peasants back in their place, calming his dogs with words of 'they're not worth it' and 'if what he said meant anything it would have hurt, wouldn't it?' which is just rude. Like Eddie and his friends aren't even people capable of drawing Harrington's attention, much less his wrath.

If Eddie's honest with himself (he's not), he would stop to question why he even wants to provoke a reaction from Harrington (it's because of his stupid crush), but Eddie's not honest so...

The point is, they feel pretty comfortable trash talking Harrington in hushed whispers to themselves in a corner of Carol Perkins' yard.

"Do you think he, like, genuinely thinks he looks cool when he does that?" Gareth whispers as they watch Harrington shotgun a beer, again.

"Dunno, probab-" Jeff cuts himself off, a quizzical expression on his face as he turns his head to look towards the Perkins' house. He's got ears that pick up everything, so Eddie just watches as he moves away from the group to the fence. Watches as Jeff jumps to look over. When he lands, he flips quickly back to them, looking between them and the group of party goers. He takes a moment, assessing his options it seems, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "Cops in bound! Just turned onto the street!"

The party starts scattering instantly, teens running in all directions.

Brian and Gareth eye the back fence and Eddie knows immediately they're not going to jump it. Eddie throws Gareth the keys to his van, "get Jeff and go."

They don't argue, they've done this song and dance before. Eddie knows they might get a stern talking to for smelling like beer but if Eddie's in the van with them, they're all ending up in jail because of what's in his lunchbox. (Hell, they'd still get a night in jail instead of just a warning for the beer if Eddie's in the van without the lunchbox).

Eddie's not the most athletic but he's gotta run. He tosses his lunchbox over the back fence before hauling himself up, one leg over and trying to get the other when he gets high-centered for a moment before gravity starts to pull him down (thankfully on the correct side of the fence) only to find the chain on his jeans catches along something at the top, leaving him to cling quickly to the fence, praying he can muster enough upper body strength to haul himself back up enough to unstick the chain before the cops get here. He tries to readjust and his hand slips, he can't get any leverage. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He's so screwed. Officer Callihan said if he was caught again, he'd be tried as an adult. Wayne's going to kill him. Why won't these stupid jeans just rip, how has the chain not given way yet? He's going to get caught with his lunchbox right at his feet. He's-

Being shoved back up, someone's shoulder digging painfully into his ribcage to get the leverage needed for Eddie's body to be high enough for the stranger's hand to sneak up and unstick the chain. Eddie expects to be dumped suddenly and unceremoniously on the ground but this does not happen. Instead, his mysterious hero manages to keep him pinned up on the fence long enough to turn themselves so both of the stranger's arms are under Eddie and then they kind of just... sink together, using the fence as a counterweight by leaning into but not actually dragging Eddie down against it.

The culmination of which ends with Eddie being held like some blushing bride in Steve Harrington's lap. Eddie opens his mouth to say... something. What, he doesn't know, but Harrington lifts a finger to his lips to signal him to be quiet. So, he stays quiet, heart pounding.

It takes about five full seconds before the sounds of the cops busting the party actually start, the sirens on the cars flipping on to let the scattering teens know they've been caught. In that same instance, Harrington sweeps up Eddie's lunch box and shoves it onto his chest, where one of Eddie's hands comes up to wrap around and hold it close on instinct, the sound the metal handle clanging on the metal lid meaningless in all the other sounds happening.

Using his other hand, Harrington basically folds Eddie forward and out of his lap, back on his own feet in a crouch. Harrington shoves his chin forward, a silent instruction to move but Eddie's still wrapping his head around the fact he's no longer dangling from a wooden fence like an idiot, so Harrington steps forward, a hand wrapping around the wrist of Eddie's free hand, forcing him to follow along as they stealth along the wooden fence of the Perkins' residence, then the fence of the neighbors, and finally a third neighbor before the fences run off and all that's left is the woods that boarder the town one way, and a way back to the road on the other.

Eddie should pull his wrist free and book it, run as fast and as far from Harrington and this party as he can get but he's kind of star struck right now (he can be a little honest with himself, as a treat). He just follows, lets Harrington jerk him around (don't even think it Munson, do not think about it-) and follows quietly.

Harrington peeks around the end of the fence, looking for any incoming trouble, Eddie assumes, and quickly jerks back, looking to Eddie, "you trust me, man?"

And Eddie, the idiot, says, "Yeah, man."

Harrington grabs his lunchbox, ripping it away from him with ease (Eddie's still star struck, okay?) and shoves it up against the fence, twisting his body as he does, so he ends up sitting with his back to this fence, body blocking sight of the lunchbox before pulling Eddie into his lap.

This is what brings Eddie back into his body. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just don't punch me until I get the cop that's gonna round the fence any time now to go away."

Eddie could bolt but he's not particularly fast, so he'd be caught, and he knows the odds. Between himself and Harrington, they'll book him and let Harrington go with a warning. So, Harrington thinks he can get the cop to go away? Okay. He lets Harrington manhandle him (don't think it don'tthinkit don't-) He's absolutely thinking it because Harrington grabs his ass and pulls him flush against him before a hand cups the back of his head and shoves his face into Harrington's neck, and then Harrington whispers in his ear, "just pretend we've been making out back here for the last half hour."

Fuck! Harrington's trying to get him shot by the goddamn police. He is an idiot and should have known better than to trust him. Well. If Harrington thinks he can get away from this unscathed, he's sorely mistaken. Eddie lifts his hands to ruffle Harrington's perfect hair before gripping it roughly with one hand, the other moving to brace himself on the fence, then he latches onto Harrington's neck, intent on giving Harrington the biggest, ugliest hickie of his life. Try and explain that away you asshole.

Except Harrington's reaction isn't what Eddie had thought it would be. Instead of being shoved, the hands on his ass and in his hair squeeze, seemingly trying to get Eddie closer and that is definitely a moan his hears, breathed directly into his ear. It eggs Eddie on a bit, truthfully, so he pulls back a little, less set on just marking Harrington and a little more set on seeing if he can make Harrington actually enjoy it.

Eddie presses kisses over the bit of skin he'd just bit like a wild animal and runs his tongue up to gently pull at Harrington's earlobe, before kissing his way back down to suck at the same spot some more. Harrington keeps switching from squeezing at him to petting him and Eddie's not really going to complain. The police can come shoot him. He'll die- well, not happy but at least alright.

"Jesus Christ, kid!"

Eddie tries to jerk away, a reflex because that's Chief Hopper's voice and he's so fucking screwed, but Harrington keeps him moored there, face hidden, hand cradling his head more gently than it has been thus far, the hand on his ass moving up to his lower back, holding him closer... dare he say, protectively.

"Hopper," Harrington sounds more calm than Eddie thought he would, "hi."

Eddie wishes he could see what is happening because there is an awful lot of silence going on in which he can only assume Hopper and Harrington are staring at each other. (Having a silent conversation, perhaps?)

Then the heaviest sigh he's ever heard from Chief Hopper (and he's heard some heavy ones in his days) greets the air, "I don't want to know who that is. Just this once, I am going to pretend I didn't see you here. You'd think that you would learn- Next time you and your boyfriend sneak away from a party to- just go to his house. Jesus, if it had been anyone but me walking around this corner... Give it about twenty minutes before you leave." The sound of retreating footsteps and Hopper's voice reporting in his walkie an 'all clear' follow those words.

They don't part immediately. Eddie waits until the footsteps cannot be heard before pulling back. Harrington makes no move to remove his hands from Eddie's person, so as a result the hand that was in Eddie's hair falls to his shoulder, then his chest, where it rests now that he's back far enough to look at Harrington. The moon is bright, and Eddie's eyes have adjusted to the dark of the evening, so he can see Harrington's face. "How the fuck did that just work?"

Harrington gives an almost hysterical sounding giggle before he tries to drop his head back to rest on the fence. He can't successfully do that, because Eddie realizes he's still cradling Harrington's head with one hand.

He makes no motion to move his hand, just holds Harrington's head up as he seems to be going through... something right now.

It takes several minutes, but finally he speaks. "It's kinda personal. Let's just say, Hopper and I got history, a- well, a good history isn't how I'd put it, but like, we're on the same page with it."

"Did you fuck Hopper?"

Harrington laughs out loud and Eddie slaps his other hand (the one not currently petting his soft, soft hair) over his mouth to muffle the noise. That sobers Harrington a little, remembering the 'wait twenty minutes' thing and once it seems like he's got it together again, Eddie removes his hand.

"No. Nothing like that with Hopper."

Eddie's a bit hung up on that fact Harrington is not immediately shouting that he's not a fag and would never have slept with the chief of police, a man. "You're really not gonna tell me."

"No."

They just kind of look at each other after that. Eddie's not sure what to do now. He should get out of Harrington's lap, right? That's a thing he should definitely be doing right now.

But.

But Harrington isn't shoving him off. In fact, his eyes are half closed as he stares at Eddie, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet his own, so Eddie feels like he can confidently say King Steve is looking at his lips. Eddie licks his lips, a test of sorts.

Harrington passes, because his tongue flicks out to lick his own lips.

"Hey, Eddie," (what the fuck. Harrington has never, not once, said his name, and Eddie has re-introduced himself several times.) "I want to kiss you. Can I?"

Oh.

Eddie's never been asked that before.

Gross. Eddie's got fucking butterflies in his stomach from Steve fucking Harrington.

Eddie wants to say yes so fucking bad but- well, his whole world view of Steve Harrington has just been rocked and now a ball of guilt is forming inside him for how he's marked up Harrington's neck like a wanton slut and Harrington asks for a kiss. But Harrington is also, at minimum, five beers in plus the weed, so he's clearly not thinking straight (ha fucking ha) because he wouldn't be asking him for a kiss if he was.

"No," Eddie says softly, "you're drunk. If you still wanna kiss me in the daylight, ask then."

Harrington scrunches his face and Eddie doesn't know him well enough to decipher what that look means, but he nods, sitting up so he can lean forward and nuzzle his face into Eddie's chest, bumping the top of his head against Eddie's chin like a cat.

Eddie leans his head atop Harrington's and lets himself be cuddled.

What a weird fucking night.

-

"Jeff!" Eddie flings himself on his friend's couch the next day, face down in the cushions, his voice mumbled as he continues, "I don't know what to do."

Jeff, ever patient with Eddie, just folds his legs at the knee and sits on the couch, dropping his legs back down and into his lap. "The way I see it, you do nothing."

"Nothing?"

"You sound extra pathetic mumbling into the couch. Nothing. If Harrington wants to kiss you, he'll ask again. If he doesn't, or tries to turn this on you, remind him he's the one that let another boy mark him up. You don't know if you can trust him."

Eddie musters all his strength to turn his head to the side so he can breath again. "You're right. As usual."

"Try not to sound so annoyed and disappointed."

"I should trust the Munson doctrine. If it's too good to be true, then it's not true," Eddie says as he wiggles forward, out of Jeff's lap and onto his knees, shuffling around until he's sitting cross-legged on the center cushion.

"Maybe, maybe not. Like, we know Harrington's an asshole but he's not mean," Jeff says. "besides, maybe being dumped by Nancy Wheeler for Jonathan Byers might have shaken some decency into him. Humility, even."

Suppose they'll learn if that's true tomorrow. "You can't tell anyone what I told you."

"Duh. Blackmail only works if the leverage you have is still a secret."

-

“Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Brian all look up at the same time. Harrington isn't even holding a lunch tray, hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket, striped polo tucked into light wash jeans under his opened jacket, Eddie's hickie only half hidden by the polo's collar.

Eddie's eyes scan the cafeteria quickly. Hawkins is a small town, so it stands to reason the schools are too. There are literal, completely empty tables. So, Eddie's eyes go to the table Harrington usually sits at.

Ah.

Everyone there is looking over. Watching. Waiting, probably. This is the trick. The joke. If Eddie lets him sit, they've pegged him for the desperate fag they all tell him he is.

"'Fraid this table is full, too," Eddie says, careful to sound bored as he says it, looking directly at Harrington.

Harrington's eyes widen slightly, like he hadn't expected Eddie to deny him. Well, joke backfired, buddy.

"I.... see," Harrington says slowly. "My mistake."

And they all watch him leave with such little fanfare that Eddie's wondering if he misread the situation. Was Harrington actually wanting to sit with them- but no. He watches as Harrington returns to his table, to the royalty of Hawkins High. Hagan says something to him and Harrington just shrugs with one shoulder before plopping onto the bench.

They wait for Harrington to start up conversation, for the leering and mocking to start up but it doesn't. Harrington just sits there in silence.

"What... was that?" Gareth asks, looking away from the Royalty to look at Eddie.

"Got no idea," Eddie lies, even as Jeff is leveling him with a look he refuses to acknowledge.

-

November 7th, 1984

Harrington was absent yesterday (not that Eddie keeps track) and now here Harrington is, slinking into the American History class they share for first period, face busted to shit. Eddie does a double take because he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him but no. Harrington looks worse than when Jonathan got him.

Eddie spends the first twenty minutes of class just watching Harrington. Harrington slides into his chair and keeps his head down, eyes closed most of the time. Every now and then he winces and drops his head into his hands, palms digging into eyes. He looks bad.

Then Harrington goes a little green around the gills and looks like he's forcing himself to swallow down vomit and Eddie's done watching the sad display. "Hey, Miss Click, I think Harrington's gonna lose his breakfast all over the back of Thompson if he doesn't get outta here soon."

Miss Click looks like she's gonna give him detention again but then she looks at Harrington and must agree with his assessment. "Help him to the nurses office, Eddie."

Normally Eddie would argue but Harrington is also looking at him now and he really wants to know what happened so instead of arguing, he stands. Harrington does, too, grabbing his bag from the floor and shuffling towards the door.

The halls are empty and Steve makes it maybe ten feet down the hall before he falls against the lockers, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Come on, Harrington," Eddie grabs his backpack from him and shoulders it, then pulls one of Harrington's arms around him. "Just keep your eyes closed. I won't walk you into any walls."

"Thanks."

It's so quiet, Eddie's not sure he was even meant to hear it. They walk in silence a bit more before Eddie asks, "so, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, sure. Nothing causes this all the time."

"What'd'ya care."

Fair. That's fair. He shut Harrington down quickly at the beginning of the year. And Eddie's had plenty of time to concede it might have been the wrong thing to do. Harrington really wasn't setting him up to be a joke, or a punching bag, because if he had been, Eddie would have been jumped by now. Especially since it's fairly common knowledge that Harrington has fallen from grace, replaced by Billy Hargrove. A whole asshole and a half, that one.

They're silent all the way to nurse and even after Harrington vanishes behind the door, Eddie loiters in the hall. He doesn't care about getting back to class. Whatever is happening with Harrington is so much more important.

Another period later and Harrington is shoving himself through the door, even as the nurse protests behind him.

"I'll be fine, really. I'm sure my mom's not answering because she's not near the phone. There's no need to worry," Harrington catches sight of Eddie then. He looks surprised, but says to the nurse, "Eddie here will drive me home. I promise I won't be driving with a concussion."

She looks past Harrington to Eddie and he finds himself nodding frantically. The nurse, not paid enough to argue with teenagers, nods back and Harrington escapes back into the hall without argument.

"You need a ride?"

"I can drive myself."

"Absolutely not. You just said you were concussed."

Harrington looks like he wants to argue more but before he can, he folds a bit into himself, hands pressing into eyes again.

"Look, I owe you anyway, alright. Let me repay."

There's a long silence, then, "okay."

Eddie walks into Gareth's third period class and deposits the keys to his van to him with instructions to pick him up from Harrington's after school (Jeff is his best friend, but Gareth is the safer driver) before helping Harrington limp his way to his own car, where he hands over his keys very forlornly and climbs into his car. Eddie takes the driver's seat and they're off.

"You gonna give me directions, Harrington?"

"You've been to my house before."

This is true. He just didn't know Harrington remembered that. Hagan had invited Eddie to deal there, once; Harrington himself, twice. He didn't know Harrington had even remembered he was there. "Didn't know you remembered that."

"You've been to my house four times."

"Three."

Harrington lull his head to the side to squint (is he trying to glare?) at Eddie. "Four."

Four? Eddie didn't remember- oh. Harrington's ninth birthday party. Eddie was invited, one of the few who hadn't been in Harrington's class to get an invitation. He was in fifth grade, Harrington in fourth. It was shortly after Wayne had brought him to Hawkins.

"Your birthday party. Why'd you even invite me to that?"

Harrington doesn't answer.

-

"I thought you said your mom was home," Eddie says as he follows Harrington into his house.

"I lied."

"Clearly," Eddie says, looking around as he continues to follow Harrington upstairs.

Harrington just allows it, which Eddie wants to question but won't because he's working out how to apologize for the first day of school without apologizing.

"If you're here alone, who's waking you up to make sure you aren't dead?"

"No one. And clearly, I am not dead."

"Someone's supposed to wake you every few hours, right?"

Harrington shrugs. "Don't need anyone to. Why, were you gonna offer?"

Was he? No. Maybe. He follows him all the way to his plaid hellscape of a room, watches as Harrington flicks on his light, then tries to block the sunlight with his sad curtains and gives up quickly, opting to toe himself out of his shoes and crawl under his covers instead.

It's fucking pathetic.

Eddie leaves Harrington's room to start opening and closing doors around the upstairs. Rich people always have a- yes! A linen closet. Eddie pulls out the darkest towels and heads back to Harrington's room.

"You got tacks or nails or safety pins?"

Harrington pokes his head out from beneath his covers, squinting at Eddie. "Tacks in the cup on the dresser." then he disappears again. Quite an awfully lot of freedom Harrington seems to be giving him. He could be snooping through things.

He doesn't, though (yet). He uses almost all of the tacks to get the towels to stay up, but no sunlight breaches them when he's done. Then he turns off the light and closes the door, leaving it open just a crack, before sitting himself on the edge of Harrington's bed.

"I owe you an apology, Harrington," Eddie finds himself saying. Fuck. He was trying to do this without having to actually do it. Too late now.

"Oh," he hears in the near darkness Harrington's surprise, feels shuffling as Harrington must be moving to look at him. "Erm, why do you think you owe me an apology."

"For the first day of school. I thought- I thought it was a prank. Or a joke. A cruel one."

Eddie turns to see Harrington peering at him, just his nose and up visible, hair a static ruffled mess, the comforter held in place by one hand. "It wasn't."

"I know that now," Eddie whispers, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. "I just- I'm sorry. I did want you to sit."

Silence. Then, "I get it, Eddie. I wouldn't trust me either."

"I said I trusted you, that night," Eddie says, "and I did. I do? I think... I didn't trust myself, I think, enough to believe that you were truly being genuine with me. I was shitty to you. So, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Harrington says, "I'm gonna go to sleep now, my head is killing me. If you're hungry help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen. You're missing lunch period."

"You gonna sleep in your jeans?"

"Too much work to remove 'em," Harrington mumbles.

"Undo your belt and jeans."

"How forward," Harrington has an eyebrow raised.

"Just do it, ya tool," Eddie says with more bravado than he feels. He slides off the bed and watches the comforter shift as Harrington does as he's told. Eddie rounds to the end of the bed, pulling up the comforter and reaching under blind, finding Harrington's legs and trailing up to his knees to grasp of the jeans. "For your modesty. Lift your hips." Harrington does, and Eddie pulls. Harrington drops his hips back down once the jeans are near his knees, lifting his legs slightly instead, allowing Eddie to pull them off and drop them on the floor at the end of the bed. "Alright, sleep it off, Harrington."

Eddie leaves him to wander to the kitchen because he is hungry and missing lunch, and this free food is going to be infinitely better than whatever the cafeteria was offering simply because it's free.

The fridge has some leftovers in it, so Eddie helps himself to leftover chicken and mashed potatoes. He eats it standing in the kitchen.

Once done, he explores Castle Harrington. A big kitchen leads to a dining room, which rounds to a large living room with a wall of windows that lookout to the pool. Eddie's familiar with the backyard, where he'd station up and wait for people to buy. There's a little hall that leads from the living room to the stairs and front door, with another hall alone the middle of the wall there. It leads to a bathroom and a rec room, complete with pool table (fucking rich people) and another door farther still. It's locked but Eddie's a snoop, so he flips the latch and opens. It's an empty garage.

Eddie ends up removing his shoes, denim vest, and leather jacket, flopping down on Harrington's couch to channel surf, though his eyes keep flicking down to his watch. At the one-hour mark he sneaks back up to Harrington's room and looks for signs of life. Easy enough, Harrington snores.

He checks each hour. Eventually Gareth shows up, signaling his arrival with three sharp jabs to the horn of Eddie's van. Eddie heads out without putting anything back on.

"I'm staying. Harrington is not- it's not good, dude," Eddie says. "Looks like he got beat worse than I did when took a chance behind The Hideout."

Gareth's eyes go wide. Eddie'd gotten beaten for being gay (a busted lip and bruised ribs; would have been worse if the owner of The Hideout hadn't been stepping out back to smoke and ended up chasing away Eddie's assailant). "What happened?"

Eddie shrugs. "Don't know. But I gotta find out. I think he was being genuine with us, on the first day of school. I feel like I have to make sure he's okay."

Jeff leans forward to peer around Gareth from the passenger seat. "You feeling guilty, Munson?"

This is a conversation they've had several times. One Eddie never wins. "Well, yeah. If I'd let him be our friend, he might not have been wherever he was when he got the shit beat out of him. Might have been watching us at band practice or something instead."

Gareth makes a gagging noise. "Ew. You've got it so bad for Harrington. Polos? That's what gets you hot and bothered?"

Eddie feels his face go red. "Fuck off."

"Don't fuck up this time, Eddie," Jeff says before sitting back out of view.

"Call if you need a ride to school tomorrow," Gareth says before reversing out of Harrington's driveway.

Eddie waits until Harrington's gotten a full eight hours (most of which he spends snooping about the place) before going to wake him up. "Hey, you gotta get some food in you, I think. Up, up."

Harrington groans, but it sounds more annoyed than pained.

"Up, up, up, up," Eddie repeats, swatting lightly at Harrington's legs, occasionally grabbing to jiggle a leg.

"'m up. I'm up," Harrington says, sounding more like himself than he has all day. "Have you always been this annoying?"

"Call it the Munson Charm."

"Charm," Harrington repeats flatly.

"I already ate your mashed potatoes, so I'm hoping you're not wanting those for dinner. Lunch? Whatever."

Harrington throws the covers off, standing before Eddie in a polo shirt and plaid boxers. "Hey, Eddie. It's still daytime out there, yeah?"

"Yeah, didn't miss it."

"Cool, cool. Can I kiss you?"

Eddie freezes, remembering that's what he'd told Harrington to do. Ask him in the daylight. He does still want to kiss Harrington, but also, he's afraid. "First you ask drunk. Now you ask concussed. Still a no, buddy. It's gotta be daylight and without anything that could be messing with your mind."

Harrington takes the rejection well, just nods an okay and motions towards his door for Eddie to lead the way to the kitchen.

Harrington opts for a TV dinner, offering one to Eddie. He accepts, because, again, free food. Then they eat them at the dinner table like it's a real meal, instead of off of TV trays in the living room like normal people.

And the odd thing about it all is how not odd all of it is, actually. The last time they were alone together, Eddie ravished his neck like a goddamn vampire. And now they're just hanging out, chatting ideally like it's a thing they do all the time.

Eddie can see why Harrington became popular so quickly. He's easy to like when he's like this, soft spoken and kind. Eddie finds he wants to know if the guy sitting across from him is the real Harrington, or an act. Or was King Harrington the act? Eddie really hasn't known him enough to say that but he's seen this house. Conformity seems important to the Harringtons.

"You looked like you could use something to cheer you up," Harrington says, out of left field.

"What?"

"It's why I invited you to my ninth birthday. You'd just transferred to our school. Looked so sad all the time. Eight-year-old me hadn't experienced a sad birthday party, so I thought it would cheer you up."

Oh. "That's-" what is that? Sweet? Considerate in a way Eddie didn't think young Harrington possible of? "It worked. Your party was fun."

Harrington smiles at him, a soft and shy thing that makes the butterflies erupt in his stomach again. "Well, thanks for watching over me today. Made it easier to sleep, having someone else in the house."

"Anytime."

"You mean that?"

Does he? Eddie can't promise even himself that it will always be true, that he does really mean anytime, but it's true right now so he says, "yeah, man."

-

Being friends with Steve Harrington is so much easier than Eddie thought it could be.

Steve -because he's Steve now, not Harrington- doesn't come back to school the rest of the week, but he makes Eddie go, asking if he can gather his homework from his classes so he won't fall behind. And school has never been a real priority for Eddie (it is his second senior year) but hanging out with Steve has become important.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian even come over on Saturday evening, at Steve's insistence. He wants to be their friend, too, it seems. And what an odd thing to see, his friends and Steve lounging around his rec room, Brian beating all of them at pool so easily it should be humiliating. Steve chats with them all like it's easy, normal, a thing he enjoys doing.

He can see his friends keeping the topics safe, music, high school gossip, they even start to discuss their grades. Eddie is mostly listening because he's been chatting with Steve all week, so he can see his friends are steering clear of anything other. They don't bring up anything Steve wouldn't talk to other jocks about.

Leave it to Steve to throw them for a loop. "Hey, you guys are all in Hellfire, right?"

The room screeches to a stop, all eyes going to Steve. He's not sure what's showing on his own face, but he can see all his friend's faces. They look surprised.

"Yeah," Jeff finds his voice first. "We're the only members."

Steve nods, "right. You play Dungeons and Dragons?"

"You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?" Brian asks.

"Yeah," Steve shrugs, fiddling with the beer can in his hands, "I know that, it's like -Hellfire, that is-, a high school club but- oh, this is gonna sound bad. I can tell already."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, curious, "just say it, Harrington. If we don't like it, there's four of us and one of you. We'll give you a swirlee in your own damn toilet."

Steve laughs and that seems to be all the push he needed because he relaxes, setting the beer down on a coaster, "I know some super cool kids who'll be freshman next year. I think they'd really want to be in your club. But, uh, since Eddie and I will be graduating this year, I was wondering if you'd want to move your game from the school to here? So they can join in."

Eddie's brain shuts off. Steve knows some cool middle schoolers, who play Dungeons and Dragons, and thinks the should all come to Steve's house to do that. Play DnD together. (Steve also believes he's going to graduate this year, ha!)

"I'm sorry," Jeff says, laughter in his voice, "there's no such things as cool middle schoolers."

Steve frowns slightly, "well, these will be the first, then. They've got their own DM, his name's Will, but I think he could learn a lot from Eddie. And Dustin loves this game so much. But if they wait until next year to officially join the club, Eddie won't be there."

Steve knows that Eddie is the DM. Steve knows what a DM is. (Steve really believes he's going to graduate this year?). "How- what? How do you even know about Hellfire? Or that I'm the DM?"

"I go to school with you guys," Steve says, "I know I'm an asshole but I'm not oblivious. Just because I didn't acknowledge the existence of your club before now doesn't mean I was unaware of it."

Fair point.

"Alright. Let's have our next club meeting here instead of the school. You can bring these cool middle schoolers and we'll see. If they're just lame middle schoolers, we're going to be very disappointed."

"Great! You meet Thursdays, right? They'll be here."

-

Monday is the real test. Eddie's feeling some kind of way about Monday. It's lunch, and everyone is already at their usual tables except Steve, who hasn't arrived yet.

Jeff catches his eye and Eddie can see he's thinking the same thing. It was easy to be friends with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson behind closed doors and in front of people already his friend. But if Steve actually comes through those doors and sits at their table, he'll be a target. Fully and officially.

Of course, Eddie catches sight of Steve as soon as he does come in, sack lunch in hand. He watches as Steve doesn't even hesitate. He weaves his way around other teens and plops down at their table, into the space left available for him between Eddie and Gareth. Watches as Steve beams at him before pulling a fucking pb&j out of his stupid brown sack.

Eddie can hear the murmuring around them, catches Steve's name and his own, knows that they've all been noticed today. The outcome of what will happen because of this, unknown.

Eddie doesn't like the unknown.

He might be willing to face it, though, if Steve keeps smiling at him.

-

The week passes. No one says anything to him. Steve sits at their table every day.

Thursday comes and he gets to meet some pretty cool middle schoolers, though unexpected ones. Will, the DM, turns out to be Will Byers, who was dead and then not dead and also the little brother of the guy who beat Steve up and stole his girlfriend (what the hell sparked this kids friendship with Steve?). Mike Wheeler, little brother of said ex-girlfriend. Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson are the last two. Eddie has never heard of these two, and therefore doesn't have any opinions just yet.

The kids know their stuff but they don't end up playing. Character creation takes some time, and Eddie's gotta think about how to incorporate four new characters (he was expecting one lame middle schooler, even though Steve had used the plural of kid every time he talked about them).

Before they all head out, Steve asks to talk to Eddie.

"Hey, I just- if the kids get into other after school activities, would you be okay with moving the date of the club meeting? My house is available every day, not just school days."

What an odd request. "I guess? Why?"

Steve shrugs (but it's a shrug Eddie has come to know doesn't mean 'I don't know' and means something closer to 'I have a perfectly valid explanation for this but don't know how to put it into words so it's easier to say I don't know') and says, "some school activities can't be rescheduled. It's be kinda shitty to make them miss this by forcing them to chose."

"There's a story there. I want to know it."

Steve looks at him, open in a way that Eddie hasn't experienced. "I want to tell you. But I'm not ready for that. Not yet. Now, go home and do your damn homework. I gotta drop these kids off."

-

December 21st, 1984 - Christmas Break

"I can't believe you did Dustin's hair for their Snowball dance," Eddie says as they watch Jeff, Gareth, Brian, Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin pile into Eddie's van after a rare, afternoon meeting of Hellfire. Gareth offered to take everyone home (maybe Eddie had to beg him to do it so he could stay and bother Steve, but that's between him and Gareth).

"He deserves a good older role model. I try to be that person," Steve says, and before Eddie can mock him for being egotistical, he continues, "that's why I wanted them to meet you, I guess, back in November. Dustin deserves a role model who understands the things he likes. Dustin needs you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that, so he just walks to the living room, grabbing the remote and settling in on the couch. Steve joins him shortly, sitting next to him rather than at the other end of the couch.

"You finish your homework?"

"Oh my god, mom," Eddie rolls his whole head dramatically, "no. I'll get it done eventually."

"Eddie," Steve says, sounding serious. Eddie turns to him, and Steve reaches out, grabbing one of Eddies hands, slotting their fingers together and Eddie feels those damn butterflies he's so used to these days. "I want to graduate with you. We can have a joint graduation party here. But that can't happen if you don't do your homework."

Eddie looks at Steve, feeling more seen than he's ever been in his life. His hand clutches back at Steve's. "Yeah. Okay. I'll graduate with you. Class of '85."

"Joint party?"

This is Eddie's chance to ask the question he's been itching to ask. "Your parent's won't mind you sharing with the resident freak?"

"My parents won't be here. They send me a card with a letter to take to their local accountant, who will arrange for a graduation cake to be delivered on a date of my choosing and give me money to host whatever kinda party I want. And what I want, is a joint party."

"You sound so sure of that."

"I am," Steve says, looking away to stare towards the TV, "I know the exact date they'll be in town between now and April 1986."

The fact Steve says 'date' and not 'dates' is not lost on Eddie. "When's that?"

"May 28th, 1985."

Eddie studies the side of his face, looking for any hint of a joke. "How do you know that?"

"Would you believe me if I said it's because I'm actually twenty-one, and have already lived through these events, and by some miracle was sent back into the body of my 17-year-old self to try and stop something terrible from happening?"

Eddie hits him with a throw pillow. He'll get the truth out of him one day.

-

May 3rd, 1985

Eddie graduates with Steve. It was fucking hell making it happen, but Steve recruited Nancy Wheeler to help tutor them both. (Eddie thought he'd be jealous, but Steve really isn't into Nancy anymore. They'd chat, he'd ask about Jonathan even, but most importantly, he'd always sat closer to Eddie than Nancy).

All of Hellfire is invited to their graduation party, his Uncle Wayne, too, along with the entire Byer's family, Chief Hopper and his daughter, Max Mayfield, and Robin Buckley. Most of these people aren't a surprise to Eddie by the time the party comes around but meeting them and learning that Steve considers this odd group of people his family was a surreal thing when it was happening.

(The real surprise person is Robin Buckley, who Steve had tried to befriend briefly during January but quickly backed out of doing that when he saw how weirded out it made Buckley. Buckley does not show to their joint graduation party but everyone else does.)

Steve and his uncle get along well and it makes some deep part of Eddie warm and fuzzy. Wayne was initially distrustful of Steve (rightfully so, given Eddie's history with jocks, and that he might have complained, loudly and often, about Steve to his uncle before. Hard to backtrack that.)

But Steve had shown up one day, asking to speak to Wayne instead of Eddie. Wayne had said yes, and then they both climbed into Wayne's pickup and went God knows where because Wayne and Eddie both know if they'd stayed on the property, Eddie would have done his best to eavesdrop.

Upon return, Steve had given Wayne a hug, hopped in his own car, and left.

Neither will tell him what they talked about, the jerks.

But all that to say, they're here, the sliding-glass door that leads to Steve's backyard wide open as people freely move from the inside to the outside and back. His friends, Steve's friends, their friends mingling easily. Hopper and Wayne chat, Jonathan and Gareth are hucking kids into the pool (at their request), Nancy is talking with Jeff and Brian, and Steve is standing at Eddie's side, holding a plate and eating cake (chocolate with raspberry filling, Eddie's favorite).

Steve spends a lot his time at Eddie's side.

Eddie expected Steve to be tired of him by now. To give up. But he hasn't. Every now and then, he still asks if he can kiss Eddie. And Eddie keeps saying no. Always an excuse, always a reason. It's been fucking with Eddie's head because he doesn't understand how Steve can be so willing, and wanting, to kiss another guy. Especially since the guy he wants to his is Eddie Munson!

Steve doesn't always ask when they're alone. He's asked when other people at this party are around, but always too quiet to be heard, like he's protecting Eddie's secret but doesn't care if people know his own. A little part of Eddie was mad at him about it; Steve's never been beaten up for being queer which probably makes it easier to be open about it.

In fact, Steve had asked him just this morning as they put their graduation gowns on over their regular clothes in the school parking lot.

"Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"No. Why are you so eager to get beat up?"

"I'm not scared of these people, Eds," Steve says with that damn shrug.

"You should be! This town'll try and kill you for being a fag," Eddie spits out, memories of Hagan, Jackson, Hargrove, the man from The Hideout, all come back to him.

"I've seen Hell, and I'm not afraid of a single person in this town," Steve says, voice cold and Eddie used to doubt that, but they've been friends for months now and Eddie's seen the nail bat he keeps in the trunk of his car, and been there when Steve's woken up screaming. Steve doesn't talk about it and Eddie hasn't pushed but this is- hearing this is the most direct Steve's ever been about it. Whatever the fuck it was.

"Tell me about it," Eddie finds himself say. "You've seen Hell?"

This brings Steve back to himself it seems, because he looks shocked by Eddie's words even though Steve said them first. "Not today. Today, we graduate!"

So, they've graduated, they've partied, and now, Eddie has questions.

"Hey, Steve, follow me," Eddie says and heads back into the house. He doesn't look back, doesn't need to to know Steve is following. He goes up the stairs and into Steve's room, waiting for Steve to enter before closing the door behind him.

"Want to get me alone, Munson?" Steve asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I want to know about Hell."

Steve drops onto the edge of his bed like a stone. He can see the war going on in Steve's head. He can wait this out. He leans back against the door, a confirmation for Steve that he's not going to give up on this easy.

"Eds, you didn't believe me before. I don't- I don't want to lose you if you don't believe me again."

Again? Eddie would have remembered if Steve had told him anything about Hell. "Trust me, then. Trust that I'm not going to leave just because I don't believe what you say."

"Okay," Steve says. "You asked, back in December, how I knew when I'd be seeing my parents again. Remember?"

Eddie thinks before wrinkling his nose and saying, "Yeah. Time travel."

"Yeah. Like Back to the Future but- shit. That's not out yet. But yeah, time travel. Sorta? I don't know. Maybe I didn't travel through time and instead just had a vision of the future. Or a prophetic dream. Or whatever."

Eddie is less leaning against the door, and more using it for support now. "The fuck, Harrington? You weren't joking about that? You really believe that?"

"Yeah. And I got a majority of the people in my backyard to believe me, so I'm hoping I can convince you, too. And if-if I lose you. If you think I'm crazy, or a liar, or whatever, it's better that I lose you this way than-" Steve cuts himself off, a choked sob following those words. Never, not once, has Eddie seen Steve cry, but he's seeing it now. Crying, over the mere thought of losing Eddie. Because Eddie isn't gone, he's here in this room with Steve, and still Steve cries.

"Hey, hey, shh," Eddie shoves off the door to drop to his knees before him, hands going up to cup his face. "I'm here. You're not losing me because I'm here."

Steve nods, cheeks rubbing against Eddie's palms before Steve's hands come up to grip loosely at Eddie's wrists, Steve leaning in to rest his forehead against Eddie's. He takes a shaky breath in before he speaks. "I've already changed the future. In that other timeline, the bad one, you didn't graduate this year. You don't meet Dustin or Mike or Lucas until next year. I'm so fucking jealous of you because I think Dustin like you better than me because you understand the things he likes and I don't. You never got to meet Will, the Byers' had already moved to California by the time the kids are Freshman."

Eddie stays quiet, waits, closes his own eyes to just hear Steve.

"There's another world, Dustin says it's another dimension. I don't know enough about how it all works but we call it the Upside Down. There are monster there, the Demogorgon and Demodogs, and later, Demobats and Vecna."

"Vecna and Demogorgon at from Dungeons and Dragons."

"I know. These things had no name until we had to fight them. The kids named the Demogorgon. You and Dustin name Vecna. Now shush."

Eddie nods against Steve's forehead and listens to the impossible. Will being stuck in the Upside Down, a girl with superpowers, how Steve got involved, that Steve returned to a body that had fought the Demogorgon but the Demodogs hadn't happened yet. That he and Nancy break up because Steve knows both their hearts belong to others (Eddie's insides twist because he's sure that Steve is hinting that his heart belongs to Eddie but that's for later in the story).

Steve talks about going to Carol Perkins' party because he'd heard Eddie was going to be there. He doesn't know how the events go before this timeline because Steve hadn't gone to that party last timeline. He'd been with Nancy still, then.

He talks about how Hopper was the first person he told about the timeline change, because if anyone could prove he was telling the truth, it was El. Hopper hadn't believed him but it had built enough of a trust that Hopper was willing to let them go at the party.

He talks about the events that led to the concussion he'd got, that sparked their friendship fully. How he'd gotten it protecting those kids from Billy Hargrove. Burning down a pumpkin patch.

"You said you were twenty-one," Eddie says, when Steve stops talking. "That would make the year 1986? '87?. What happens next?"

Steve shakes his head. "I can't- there are things I can't say. Can't talk about yet because if I change the timeline too much, Vecna could win. And I can't-he cannot-I-"

"Shh, shhh," Eddie soothes, "no, you don't have to tell me. Thank you, for sharing this with me. I do... I have a question."

"Mmm?"

"How do I play into this. Why did you decide to be my friend now?"

"To change the future. In March of '86, you get- the Upside Down shit effects your life, too. We trauma bond and- I realized that I wish I had known you better. Sooner. We had one week together and honestly, I spent most of it pining after my ex. It took a while, but I realized I will always love Nance, but I wasn't in love with her. But that realization came after it was too late for us-" Steve cuts off, sobbing.

Eddie doesn't know what happened. Isn't sure he wants to. That's a timeline that's already lost forever. For it to come true, it requires him to be in high school and he's not. "Hey, it's okay. We're okay. We're going to stay okay."

They stay there, close, until Steve is calm again and ready to rejoin the party.

"Hey. Any chance I can see El move something with her mind?"

"Yeah. Gonna have to wait until your side of the family leaves, though. It's still fragile, who knows and who doesn't."

His side of the family. Like- Eddie cannot think on that too long or he's going to combust. "Can't wait to see."

Eddie does get to see. Steve pulls El aside as the party winds down and whispers in her ear. A little while later, while Eddie is the only one outside for his smoke break, his cigarette gets pulled from his mouth and flung into the pool. He jumps, because Jesus Christ, but a quick look towards the house shows him Steve, arms crossed and smiling, with El, arm extended towards Eddie still.

He can't find himself to be mad about the cigarette when El smiles at him.

-

Steve is already cooking breakfast when Eddie emerges from the guest room the morning after graduation. He'd been invited to share Steve's bed (just to sleep, Steve had sworn) but Eddie had to decline because he wasn't sure he could trust himself.

"Morning," Eddie says, draping himself boldly against Steve's back to look over his shoulder as he fries up hashbrowns. Steve doesn't even hesitate to lean back against Eddie.

"Morning."

"Put that down and turn around for a moment," Eddie steps back and Steve obeys, setting the wooden spoon he'd been pushing hashbrowns around with down, turning to lean himself against the counter rather than stay in front of the stove.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to report that I am suffering no hang over effects. You?"

"None," Steve says, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Good, good. Didn't fall out of bed and concuss myself either. Same for you I assume?"

"Same."

Eddie thinks Steve is starting to understand, if the little surprised face he does is anything to go by. "And I can't help but notice the daylight out that window. You see the daylight?"

Steve gives him a lopsided grin. "I do see it. Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

They meet in the middle. For a kiss that's been a long time coming, it's so gentle. Steve cups his face like he's made of glass and Eddie should be annoyed by that but he's not. It just makes him feel safe.

Feel loved.

They break for air but don't go far from each other.

"I don't know what the future holds, unlike you," Eddie says, because he's a cheeky boy, "but I do know that no matter what it brings I'm here. You can't get rid of me now."

Steve looks conflicted, "not even if I asked you to go? For your safety? Even if it's to save you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Babe, you've already saved me. You've already changed the course of my life." He clocks the way Steve's eyes darken when he calls him babe. "I'm gonna make sure I've changed yours for the better, too."

Steve hauls him back in by his shoulders. They kiss and kiss and kiss until the smell of burning hashbrowns ruins the mood.

Eddie doesn't know what horrors await (no one but Steve does) but they'll face those together.

[magmythedevil]

|| MD ship debate again sorry, dont need to read If you dont like. But this is a Topic that genuinely interests me

Its kinda funny how some people from the the fandom earlier this year (like- two months after episode two aired or something) really thought that the story would be about V and N being an adult couple of murderers while taking care of their new litte minor friend Uzi as If she was their kid, OH who also would fall in love with her jock crush?

im like.....why????

Why did It so many people genuinely thought murder drones would be about that with only two episodes in????

Envy shippers and Thuzi shipper got so upset when episode 3 aired because It literally BROKE their entire interpretation of the story. And the fact that these people were such a loud minority to the point of making the other members of the fandom genuinely scared to ship anything related to WD X DD bc they simply blocked everyone on sight??????? AND SHIT TALK THEM on private group chats calling them "weirdos wd x dd shippers ewww"

Like- these people bullied two big artist that were genuinely passionate about the show out of the fandom because they enjoyed wd x dd (the Dollzi au one and the N x Thad enjoyer one)

Thats insane???

Kinda sad that It took episode 6 for people to finally graps reality and not let this loud minority of people have such a big voice in the fandom, but It finally changed

Watching everyone from mdtwt remove the "n x uzi dni" from the bios was such a "WE WON" feeling 🙏🙏🙏🙏

(btw um NOT saying that nuzi was underrated, nuzi always have been the most popular one in the fandom getting coutnless fanarts everyday. But denying that there wan'st an weird stigma around uzi x N or any wd x dd is funny loll)

[quixoticall]

The View Between Villages

Summary: Steve Harrington offers to be your ghostly tour guide after your mysterious, unexpected death.

AN: Hiiiii, if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been then, first of all thank you for thinking of me, and secondly, I have been sick with bronchitis for weeks. Tbh I never understood in Regency novels where they would make such a huge deal about someone being sick until now. That shit took me out. Anyway, in my convalescence I watch the show, School Spirits and I couldn’t help but see the similarities between Wally and Steve—both men of the 80s, hot labrador retriever jocks with a compulsive need for parental approval? So, that’s how this lil piece was born. I would love to continue writing in this universe so please, if you have any requests, send them in! In the meantime, I am hard at work on This Could Get Ugly and a lovely lil Eddie number inspired by another Noah Kahan song.

Warnings: School Spirit!AU, Major Character Death, talks about own death, brief mention of violence and death, angst, this is sad! Ghost!Steve and Ghost?Reader

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

WC: 2K

It’s Steve Harrington who first declares you dead. Admittedly it takes you an embarrassingly long time to realize, it wasn’t like they sent out notices for these types of things either, as convenient as a note would’ve been:

To Whom it May Concern:

We regret to inform you that on February 12 of this year, you will unfortunately perish under unclear circumstances in the city of Chicago, Illinois at Northwestern University. Please make sure to get your affairs in order before the set date.

No, none of that, instead you had attended three whole lectures before noticing that no one was acknowledging you—not your professors when you raised your hand; not your classmates when you asked if they could loan you a pencil; not even your best friend when you ran into him in the hall. You thought it could’ve been a weird prank. Then the news began to spread, you were missing. Reported by your roommate after not having come home from a late-night study session at the library. And then they found traces of blood in the boiler room of the library’s basement.

Still, you thought to yourself, maybe you were having a really long terrible dream. Or maybe you were in a coma. Or doing one of those VR headset things. Or maybe you were dead and cursed to spend the rest of eternity haunting the very campus where you died.

Your friends were never the gym type, which is why you end up at the school’s pool in an effort to avoid the pain and desperation you feel every time you see their tired but still-hopeful faces.

That’s where you see him. Or, more importantly, where he sees you. You first spot him sitting at the edge of the pool, observing the ongoing swim team practice and are immediately struck.

Sure, you may be stuck in some weird reality where you may or may not be dead but you can still appreciate a hot person. Especially one as handsome as Pool Guy who’s striped swim trunks sit low on his hips and he has a smattering of dark hair trailing from his belly button almost up to the base of his neck. Thick, chestnut-colored hair swoops in his handsome face in golden-touched waves and gracefully frame a pair of honey-hued eyes. Of course you were going to stare.

You’re sure you stare for an indecent amount of time, but it wasn’t like that mattered, you remind yourself, you’re invisible to him like you are to everyone else.

Except you’re not invisible to him because Pool Guy was making eye contact and worse, he was waving, solidifying the fact that he is very aware of your presence. He can see you.

“Hi, you must be new here. I’m Steve Harrington, class of ‘86,” he introduces himself, with way too much verve once he swims over to where you’re still frozen in place.

“You can see me?” You ask, once you find your voice, “How can you see me?”

You reach out to grasp his offered hand and to your shock, your fingers don’t go straight through his, like it would with anyone else’s. Instead you’re enveloped in the warm solid grasp of his hand.

He cracks a smile at this, “because I’m dead too. Which, I totally get you’re probably wondering how someone this good-looking could’ve died so young but i will—“

“Dead?” you squeak out.

“Sorry,” he says with an awkward grimace, “I know not everyone likes that term, um, how do you identify—?“

You cut him off once again, “I didn’t know I was dead.”

It’s his turn to be confused.

“Really? Most people are really quick about putting it together. When they see their body the memories all come back. I mean even I put it together and I was never the smartest even before the accident—oh, shit. You’re the missing girl. The one from all the flyers.”

Clearly he’s referencing the myriad HAVE YOU SEEN ME? flyers with your face on them that paint the campus. Up until now, you had been categorically missing not dead, and now that someone has spoken your fate out loud, you’re certain it is all but sealed.

“Listen, I am so sorry. Let me go get someone who’s way better at this than I—“ you cut off his apologetic rambling,

“I need to leave right now.”

Before he can say anything else you’re running in the opposite direction as quickly as you can.

You don’t go back to the pool after that.

Being dead wasn’t so bad. Sure, you had spent a solid five weeks distraught over the loss of the life you had once lived and mourning everything you will never get to do. And yeah, it was a uniquely painful type of loneliness getting to see all your friends and never getting to interact with them, especially during those first few weeks when your disappearance was hot on everyone’s lips and heavy in the hearts of your friends. But outside of all that, being dead was okay. At least, you didn’t have to submit any more papers or do laundry.

After your encounter with Steve Harrington, class of ‘86, you decide to hole up in the library. You desperately convince yourself that if you search the shelves enough you’ll be able to find something in one of the many books that talk about the afterlife that might provide you some clarity about your newfound ghostly status. Surely there’d have to be something helpful. Anything. A ghost manual, perhaps or some graduate research paper about being stuck in between realms. You’d easily settle for a Chicken Soup for the Ghostly Soul.

Or you think traitorously to yourself, a tour guide to the afterlife, someone who has experience with being dead and a great set of abs. Every time you’re close to convincing yourself to go back to the pool, the embarrassment of your mortifying first encounter pulls you back. No way you were going to see him again. Just because you were dead didn’t mean you’d lost all your dignity.

Your internal back-and-forth ends up not mattering because he ends up coming to you.

You spot his well-coifed head maneuvering through the tall shelves from where you’ve holed yourself up on the fourth floor mezzanine and watch as he weaves through the unassuming crowd, completely unnoticed, just like you.

He’s wearing clothes this time, which both disappointing and surprising since you haven’t quite figured out the mechanics or social expectations of how often ghosts should be changing clothes. In a pair of snug-fitted jeans with a Northwestern Athletics sweatshirt and a pair of high top Nikes, he takes the winding steps up to your unofficial perch two at a time . If this is what he looks like some 40 years dead, you can’t imagine what he looked like when he had a pulse, it must have been like staring into the sun.

“Hi,” he offers tentatively when he approaches, like he’s sure you’ll run off spooked.

“Hi.”

“Sorry to bother you, it’s just, well, my friend Robin told me she saw you here and I wanted to come by and apologize for what happened. At the pool. I truly had no idea, sometimes I just say things without thinking, which I am working on, trust me.”

You smile, appreciative but defeated, part of you was hoping he was coming up here to tell you that there had been some sort of mistake.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault, it was just a bit of shock, is all. I guess I’m still adjusting to this whole being dead thing,” you joke weakly.

“Yeah, about that, if you ever need help adjusting or learning the ropes or anything like that, I—we are always happy to help. There’s a few of us that band together and we’d love to have you. Truly,” he claws nervously at the back of his head as he makes his offer the tip of his sneaker digging into the worn library carpet.

“Thanks,” you say, genuinely, “I really appreciate that.”

He looks at you now, finally, and his gaze is golden, warm honey and it’s like a shot to the chest. Like you’ve promised him the moon. A hand is extended towards just slightly, a twitch, and you realize he’s expecting you to take it.

“I can’t right now, though,” you say, lamely and you watch his smile waver. Quickly you add, ”I need some time, I think, before it becomes permanent. If I go with you, I’m dead. Alone up here, I’m still just missing. Does that…make sense?”

He nods, furiously, “It makes total sense. You can come find me by the pool whenever you’re ready. I will be there.”

He makes a move to leave and you register the paper in his hand for the first time. It’s a flyer with your face on it, different than all the ones before.

“Wait, what is that?” You ask, fingers skimming the plush of his sweatshirt to get his attention.

“Oh, um,” he swallows thickly, “they’re having a vigil for you tonight, I wasn’t sure if you’d seen or if you were going, but if you were going, I was going to see if you wanted some company. “

His voice is small now and the regret is etched thickly on his face.

Fingers shaking, you extend a hand out for the flyer. Steve sighs but gently places it in your trembling grasp nonetheless.

It’s true, what he said about the vigil, you had no clue. You’re not sure how long you spend staring at your own face, long enough for the words to stop making sense, but not long enough for them to stop meaning anything.

Steve stays the entire time and when you sink to the floor, tear tracks heavy on your cheeks, he sinks with you. You cry, and he stays.

“I can’t go,” you admit, and then, in the same breath, plea, “How can I go?”

Next to you, Steve lets out a shuttering sigh.

“When I died, they did something similar, my parents came down from Indy and everything. I couldn’t bring myself to go either. But shit, maybe if I did, I would’ve gotten what I needed to move on from here. Closure or whatever. Or maybe not, who knows? But I will never know and I would hate for you to never know.”

It’s still too hard to go you decide, but you can’t pretend it’s not happening. Instead, the two of you sit on the roof of the library, feet dangling over the ledge watch a river of candlelight flowing through the center of campus. You can hear, faintly, as your friends make speeches talking about how kind you were, how good, how funny and undeserving until their voices fail from holding back tears.

You cry the whole time, but you don’t regret it.

The two of you stay sitting there far past the end, Steve’s arms wrapped around you, holding the pieces of you together.

After, when you’ve had enough of it all and the last candle has gone out, you turn to Steve and say, “thank you, that did make me feel better. You were right.”

He chuckles wryly.

“I don’t hear that I’m right very often,” he admits before cracking another smile, “but I could get used to hearing it, especially from you. Now, what do you say about getting some ice cream? No offense, but that thing was a total downer.”

You laugh, genuinely, not only at his joke, but the absurdity of it all before playfully shoving his shoulder. In response, Steve pretends to lose his balance and almost fall of the ledge and you both know it’s silly but it makes you smile so it’s worth it.

Dying is probably the worst thing that has ever happened to you, but at least you are not alone.