Latest Posts by tiredofeverythingandmyself - Page 7

I think is ironic to think this on Valentine's day, and is my saint at the same time

I'm tired of this fucking world, i really want to kms

I'm tired of this fucking world, i really want to kms

They are currently bombing Rafah while the Superbowl is on. They are bombing 1.5million people in tents. Keep your eyes on Gaza

This. I have not seen ANY videos/pictures/media showing destroyed buildings in israel like I have seen in Palestine. We have seen Palestine being totally leveled: bombed hospitals, houses, schools, everything. But you know what I have not seen? The same in israel. And do not even try to say "oh khamas controls israels media!!!". How? Because thats makes you sound like an antivaxxer flatearther 💀 so your opinion is automatically worthless and waste of space.

Like people make it sound like what happened on oct 7 was like The Rumbling yet I havent seen anything of that level. Yet you could think that it happened in Palestine because of all the evidence.

kind of wanna reinforce this here. because i’ve seen ai writing become so popular on tik tok.

ai writing is not okay.

it’s literally theft. just like how ai art steals, ai writing steals. it’s using authors’ very real work to generate whatever you type in. and this also needs to be said as well.

writing is a form of art. fanfiction is a form of literature.

seeing this all over my fyp is REALLY discouraging. fanfic itself is already a labor of love and we love it when you interact. but please do not use ai writing for your fanfic needs when this writing literally steals from fanfic authors.

genuinely don’t know if this post will go around because my interactions outside of hcs are shit, but i hope it does.

rb if you want pasta or rough sex

it broke my heart to read this post is by journalist yousef (ph_youseeff). he’s a cancer patient and he has been trying to evacuate for a very long time now to continue his treatment. his health condition has been deteriorating in light of the lack of hospitals health care.

PLEASE DONATE TO HIS FUNDRAISER IF YOU CAN

and please share this around. he’s 60% through his goal. help him reach it.

Noury is a Gojo Satoru JJK Fangirl and artist. She's been documenting the attacks on Gaza since the beginning. Both she and her brother lost an eye, her father can no longer walk and her mother cannot eat because of a broken jaw. They need help to pay for surgeries and medicine.

Please donate and spread this around as much as you can.

They appear to be in relative safety but were injured and untreated for days because of Israel's bombings, which is why their injuries got this bad.

I also wanted to document every post she's made since the beginning of Israel's attacks. It's important to remember every day as it happened when Israel is trying to hide what they've done to the civilian population and ordinary people in Gaza. Especially this sweet, funny young woman who found the time to thirst over her favorite anime boy as a comfort between all the attacks.

Posted in reverse chronological order under the Read More.

More images in a reblog.

[Image ID: A picture of a bee and a wasp, both labeled. Both are colored yellow and black. Facts are listed about each one in their respective columns.

Bee:

Cute and fuzzy, like a friend

Make honey

Come in pretty colors with different occupations (blue orchard bee, carpenter bee)

Pollinators!

Freeloaders who will come build hives in the walls of your house

Communicate with dancing

According to all known laws of aviatin, honey bees can fly up to 15 mph

Like sweet things

Over 20,000 species--not just honeybees!

Wasp:

Cool and sleek, like a motorcycle

Prey on pests

Come in pretty, iridescent colors (ruby tailed wasp)

Will try to mooch off your drinks (so check your cans!)

Pollinators!

Leave you paper nests that you can sell to collectors

Communicate with smells

Like sweet things

Over 30,000 species--not just [kind I hate]

At the very bottom, in smaller text, is the URL bug-maniac.tumblr.com. /End ID]

NO ANTI-WASP SENTIMENTS ON THIS POST

no cause some of the shit y'all are saying has me genuinely worried that you don't understand the difference between immigration and SETTLER COLONIALISM. y'all do realize that if jewish people just mass migrated to palestine and lived peacefully among palestinians as neighbors and countrymen, then none of this would be a problem. right? you get that, right? you get that our issue was never "there's too many jews here" but rather "why am i getting kicked out of my house." RIGHT?

Palestinian women and girls are actively being denied uterine and gynecological care. they have to use tent remnants as tampons and pads. they’re also getting infections as well. israel is actively denying them humanity. they have 0 access to care they need.

The Pious Projects is raising funds to distribute feminine hygiene kits in Gaza! They have on ground teams serving their own communities and their programs are always 100% admin free. Click the link to learn more & donate a hygiene kit. They have different tiers of donation so anything from a 5 dollar donation to a 1000 dollar donation can be done

piousprojects.org

Feminine Hygiene Kits for Gaza With the Asad Sisters

Help us bring hygiene kits to the vulnerable women suffering Gaza's violence.

Okay guys, I'm just gonna say it. Jonathan Byers deserved to have his camera destroyed by Steve in S1. It's taken me nearly 10 years to have the courage to fully say it but there it is. If you knowingly take pervy pictures of a woman undressing from outside her window you deserve to have the girl or her boyfriend break your damn camera.

If you buy e-sims for Gaza and or donate to other charities and fundraisers to aid the Palestinian people, especially fundraisers to get Palestinian families to safety, I will doodle you a beetle or moth of your choice! They'll look something like this only digital:

And if you donate any amount of $50+ I'll draw you a linework portrait, be it favorite characters, oc's, celebs, etc. My portrait work looks like this:

Just send e-sim receipts and proof of donation to @/izzy.nero11@gmail.com

Heres a guide on how to purchase e-sims

Here's a fundraiser to get a 5 year old girl out of Gaza to reunite with her mother

Heres a fundraiser for a Palestinian family in need as well as it being a direct link to Ahmed's blog where you can find links to help him and his family as well

And heres a short list of smaller charities and resources to find more families donate to

I do want to let it be known that any piece you get from me are for personal use only. It's cool if you want to use them for your personal social media accounts as avatars or headers though, just have the usual courtesy to credit.

This is definitely not a google drive full of the sleep stuff from the Headspace app, including sleepcasts, music, and wind down meditation, that normally costs 17.99 a month, no siree and you definitely shouldnt share this with people

If you're fifteen or older an still sleep with a stuffed animal please reblog this.

HAPPY BB DAY AND EARLY BIRTHDAY!!!

I am foaming at the mouth at this first chapter, but I'm gonna give others a chance to read before I give specifics I loved in an ask ❤️ I just wanted you to know that it's amazing and I'm excited to see where it goes!

Thank you! I took the day off work tomorrow for my birthday so I can write in peace and spend my day doing what I love. I can’t wait to hear what everyone thinks of the fic because it’s one I’ve really poured my heart into💛

Steve only agreed to go out with Tommy after their parents set them up because he “owed” his dad for ruining a potential business partnership for him at a dinner party.

To the rest of the guests, the man had just tripped and embarrassed himself but he knew and Steve knew and Steve’s dad knew: Steve had tripped him. But the guy had groped his ass when he crossed him on his way to the bathroom. He had it coming.

And even if his father had agreed with him after Steve told him the truth, he still needed help landing another client since his most profitable opportunity turned out to be a big ol’ creep. A date with another client’s son. Young, rich, good-looking, a single dad. It didn’t sound that bad.

And so Steve met Tommy. 

At first, Tommy was… good. He was charming, cute, a praiser and a joker but the more Steve got to know the less he liked. After a while the compliments stopped and the commanding requests began. Get me this, pick this up, cook me, blow me, dress me, feed me, drive me, me, me, me.

But if Steve wanted or needed something? Tommy was sooo tired and busy. He hadn’t even made an effort to meet Steve’s friends yet. Plus he was always making Steve feel dumb and unimportant, saying his job was silly, even if Steve made almost as much money as him with fewer hours.

Telling him not to ‘worry his pretty head about it’ when Steve asked for clarifications or wouldn’t talk to him about work because Steve ‘wouldn’t get it’. He talked down on Steve all the time and offered him money to “buy himself something nice” in a degrading manner as if Steve was nothing more than arm candy for him.

The worst part was when he realized Tommy… wasn't funny. At all. All his jokes were based on making fun of other people. And he was the only one who laughed at them. He was no better than a bully. He… kind of sucked.

And Steve would’ve loved to never have to see him again. But the problem was he had fallen in love with Tommy’s daughter, Tarja. Because Tommy might have been a terrible boyfriend but at least he was a good enough father. So the weeks Tommy got Tarja, Steve spent most of his time with her. 

She was just a delight. Cute, smart, and actually funny. She had the most deadpan sarcastic humor a 6-year-old could manage and it cracked him up. She was also super creative and loved drawing, reading, bedtime tales, and coming up with stories of her own.

Her emotional maturity was impressive, better than her father’s actually, and one of Steve’s favorite things about her. He’d never forget the day he went to pick her up from school and she’d been upset. When Steve asked her how he could help she had calmly explained what had happened, how it made her feel, and what she could do about it… over ice cream, obviously. It made him wonder what kind of person her other dad was like because she had clearly not learned how to communicate like that from Tommy.

And the thing is, Steve had always wanted a kid, ever since he was young all he wanted was a family and even if Tommy wasn’t great he just couldn’t make himself leave the connection he felt with Tarja. And he couldn’t just come out to Tommy and say: ‘Hey I wanna break up, but I’d love to keep seeing your kid,’ that would land him at best a punch, at worst in jail.

There was also the fact that, no matter how much he tried to deflect, Tommy’s comments were starting to get to him. Maybe Tommy was as good as he’d get, maybe he was dumb and uninteresting and the only thing he had going for him was his looks, maybe this was his only chance for a family. So he stuck it out. Cherished the times when they were all together.

And then he met Eddie.

👈previous part

☕🥐💕?

Part One

Part Two

"So this is knitting?"

Eddie watches as Steve carefully threads the loom back and forth, back and forth, "yeah."

"I thought knitting was like, with needles?"

"It can be...but I'm no good at it," Eddie admits shyly, suspects he's probably blushing. Again. "Could never hold the tension, it just got tighter and tighter until it was like chainmail. So I tried sewing, shit at that too. Well, I can do patches and stuff on my jacket, by hand, but proper sewing with a machine, to make a blanket? Carnage man, blood everywhere." Steve snorts a laugh, but doesn't look up from what he's doing, "so I tried crochet, pretty sure I had carple tunnel in like, ten minutes flat. Was ready to quit but then...I found these things. And I'm sort of okay at it."

"Well, you're managing to teach me, so you must be more than just okay."

Eddie does blush then, glad Steve isn't looking up from his work. It's sweet, watching the Alpha figure out this most Omega of tasks. Eddie has no idea how this happened, but it's his third time at Steve's.

Never turn down a free meal is so ingrained in Eddie he was agreeing before he even really realised what he was agreeing too.

And it isn't until later that very evening, when Steve quietly says, "hey, can I show you something, before you go?" That Eddie understands. Because he's standing in the doorway to a nesting room. Of course the Harrington house has a nesting room, it's big enough and fancy enough for a pool for god's sake.

Eddie stands and stares into the little windowless room, lit softly by covered lights, and examines the dip in the middle. The soft curve in the floor where Steve has very carefully constructed a nest.

Eddie's never been offered this before, never had an Alpha come even close to something like this. The whole room smells of Steve. Some of the nest is clearly Steve's bedding.

He's done a good job; Eddie's Omega preens and Eddie has to breathe sharply through his mouth to deliberately squash the purr that wants to escape his chest.

He knows now, why he's here; Steve wants his heat. Probably not the first heat Steve Harrington has offered to share with someone, Eddie has no illusions about what this is.

But this might be his chance. He's already forming a plan. It's shitty and underhand but it'll get him the pup he wants so badly. Eddie doesn't look at that nest and see his own survival, he doesn't see salvation. He sees a pup cradled in his arms.

Steve never needs to know, even. Eddie knows Steve's interest in him will evaporate once Eddie's heat is done. Once Eddie has what he wants so badly.

Eddie says, "yes."

Vickie had been invited to Steve’s house by Robin, and she was completely nervous. It was a pool party which meant swimsuits. Should she go sexy or conservative? Fuck it, she's wearing a bikini. Over the bikini, she wore a pair of jeans shorts and a floral tank top. Vickie stared at her reflection in the mirror. She ruffled up her hair and pouted, and then she scowled.

"Why I am so pale?!" Vickie exclaimed.

"Once again, dear, I apologize for passing on my genes to you," her father said as he leaned against her doorway. "I like you, so should Robin. Although not in the same way."

"Dad! You have to like me," Vickie rolled her eyes.

"Everything's going to work out," Matthew said and grabbed his daughter by the shoulders shaking her. "You just have to believe in yourself the way that I do."

"I'm starting to regret telling you," Vickie rolled her eyes.

"You know that I'm proud of you, right?" He asked. "And if your mother were still here with us, she'd proud of you too."

"Thanks, Daddy," Vickie said softly. "I just wish I got to tell her."

"Oh, pumpkin, I think she always knew," Matthew told her.

"How do you know that?" She asked.

"She's your mother. Nothing ever got past her," he said. "Now, do we need to do something breathing exercises?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, now what do we tell our anxiety first?"

"To go to hell!"

"Damn straight or in your case not so straight!"

"Daddy!"

Vickie stood in front of the large house and was immediately intimated by its size.

"It's weirdly huge, right?" A voice, and she looked to find Eddie Munson standing next to her. "I always feel like it's going to eat me. You must be Vickie."

"And you must be Eddie Munson," Vickie said in amusement.

"Nah. I'm the guy that ate him," Eddie said sarcastically, and Vickie laughed.

"You're weird," she said. "My dad would like you."

"You should know now, Vickie, that my heart is pining away for someone else. . .just so you don't get your hopes up," Eddie said.

"So is mine," she replied.

"Good, now that that's settled," Eddie told her. "What's got you so nervous?"

"The idea of taking off my clothes," Vickie scoffed.

"Yeah, same here. I've got some nasty scars recently, and they're not quite done healing. Almost. They're ugly as hell," Eddie sighed.

"I've got a scar on my stomach from a car accident when I was little, but I decided to say "fuck it" and wear a bikini anyway," Vickie said.

"That's my kind of spirit. Fuck it," Eddie grinned. "Ready to head inside, my lady?"

"I am now," Vickie said.

The party was in full swing. All of Steve and Robin's friends were here. They were Eddie's friends now, too. Jonathan Byers, some guy named Argyle who Vickie immediately liked, and Nancy Wheeler. Vickie wasn't at all curious that Steve was friends with his ex, as she was still very much friends with hers. Robin seemed to be friends with her, too. There was this bond there that connected all of them, and she wasn't sure what it was, but she was glad they had it. There was this warm feeling of family amongst all of them. The one thing she hated, though, was the fear behind their eyes and the way they all jumped sometimes. Something told her that the bond they formed didn't start from a very good place. It wasn't her story to tell, though, so she wasn't going to pry.

"Whatcha thinking about, Lady Fisher?" Eddie asked as he plopped down in the lawn chair next to hers.

Vickie had gotten tired out from swimming and had decided to sprawl out into one of the lawn chairs. She had started thinking about the way Robin's eyes landed on hers when she started taking off her clothes, and the way remained steadfast on her face as though they were trying not to look anywhere else. It had made Vickie blush and somehow her thoughts had drifted.

"Life," Vickie told Eddie.

"Ah, yes, that bitch," Eddie said and Vickie giggled.

Her eyes landed on Robin and Steve talking animatedly with one another as they stuck their feet in the pool. She could have sworn she saw Robin say her name, and it made Vickie blush. She didn't realize that Eddie was talking to her until Eddie was snapping his fingers in front of her face.

"Hmm?" She asked.

"Is the person you like Steve?" Eddie scowled.

"What?!" Vickie exclaimed. "No."

Eddie turned his head at the same time hers did. His eyes landed on Argyle nearby.

"Argyle?" He asked.

"Well, no, I mean, a little, but I think everyone likes Argyle just a bit. I mean. . .," Vickie trailed off.

"Except for Robin," they said at the same time.

They gasped and slapped their hands on their mouths at the same time. Vickie did not mean to say that, although it didn't necessarily imply that Robin is a lesbian. Still. Wait. . .Vickie removed her hand at the same time that he did.

"You know?!" They hissed.

"How do you know?!"

"She told me!"

"Stop that!"

They stayed quiet for a while. Eddie looked at her thoughtfully.

"If it's not Argyle, then . . . "

Vickie sighed and grabbed his head. She pointed him at Robin. He gasped and then looked at her in annoyance.

"I was getting there," he said defensively.

"Sure, you were," Vickie laughed and released his head.

"Just so you know, I call dibs on Steve," Eddie said.

"You can't call dibs on a person," she said.

"Sure you can. I just did," he said with a grin and rubbed his stomach, wincing.

"Your scars hurting you?" Vickie asked.

"The pain comes and goes," Eddie shrugged. "You're not curious about how I got them?"

"I am, but I'm not going to question it if you don't want me to know," Vickie said. "Besides, I just met you."

"Yes, but I have this feeling that we're like Steve and Robin. Platonic soulmates and what not," Eddie said. "I mean, how do you think they got there?"

"Well, they were in Starcourt together," Vickie said.

"Ooh, so, you think shared trauma? See, I knew about Starcourt," Eddie frowned. "I don't think we have any shared trauma. I mean, I was once in a car accident, too."

"Really?" Vickie asked gently.

"Yeah, my mom died in that accident. I was in the car with her. She threw her body on top of mine," Eddie said, his voice catching. "We were coming back from Indie when this drunk driver came out of nowhere. It caused a pretty bad pileup."

"Was it on the road with the really creepy scarecrow that no one ever does anything about?" Vickie asked.

"Yeah. I guess you heard about it like everyone else?" Eddie asked.

"Eddie. . .I think we have shared trauma," Vickie said, tears in her eyes. "Me and my mom were in that accident. My mom also died that day."

"Shit," Eddie said and moved quickly to hug her.

They were interrupted by Robin and Steve coming over to check on them.

"Is everything okay?" Robin asked.

"Yeah," Vickie said, her face wet with tears. "We were talking about our moms."

"Oh," Robin and Steve said in unison, a look of understanding in their eyes.

"Vickie, do you want to talk more inside?" Eddie asked softly and she nodded.

Eddie put his arm around her as they walked inside. They ended up on the floor of the nearest bathroom, unknowingly recreating Steve and Robin's own special moment. They talked for a while until their bathing suits were very nearly dry. They talked about how wonderful their moms were. Vickie told him how her mom used to read to her at bedtime and how she used to make her dance on her feet when they were dancing in the kitchen. Eddie told her all about how he got his love of his music from his mother even though she never could carry a tune, but she could tell a story like no one else. They talked about how they wished they were still here, how they could tell their moms about themselves.

"My mom would love Robin," Vickie said.

"My mom would love Steve, and she would love the fact that Steve would probably be the one to teach her how to cook. She always hated that she didn't know how to do that," Eddie grinned.

They went on to talk about how they hated the fact that they had to share this trauma, but there was also some relief in knowing that they didn't have to go through it alone. Eddie stood up and clapped his hands.

"Alright, enough of this sad shit," Eddie said and jumped up. "I think we're officially soulmates now."

He put his hand and helped her up, hugging her tightly.

"Definitely platonic," Vickie giggled. "You remind me too much of my dad."

They left the bathroom and found that everyone had gone home.

"How long were we in there for?" Eddie asked.

They headed to the kitchen where Robin and Steve were cleaning up.

"Party's over?" Vickie asked.

"Yeah, everyone got tired really quickly. It was weird how quickly they got so tired," Robin said, and Steve nudged her in the side.

Vickie grinned and pulled Eddie off to the side.

"I just got a great idea," Vickie said.

"And what, pray tell, is cooking in that head of yours, Fisher?" Eddie asked.

"We should ask them out together right now!" Vickie said excitedly.

"Are you crazy?" Eddie asked.

"Come on, we both know that life is short, and we could kick it at any time. They're worth risking it all, yeah," Vickie said. "Besides, they can't reject us if we're coming at them from both sides."

"Hmm, I am not seeing a single flaw in your logic," Eddie said thoughtfully and grinned. "Let's do it!"

They moved back over to Robin and Steve.

"What the hell was that all about?" Steve asked.

"That was our first official platonic soulmate huddle," Eddie said.

"Oh, so, you guys are platonic soulmates now?" Steve asked.

"That's cute," Robin said, smiling. "I mean, you know as in, you know . . . You know what I mean."

"Wait, how are we going to do this?" Eddie asked.

"Well, I figured you would look at Steve, and then I would look at Robin," Vickie said. "Then we ask them."

Eddie shot her finger guns and then leaned against the island across from them. Vickie leaned against the island, looking at Robin.

"We want to know - " Eddie nudged Vickie as he continued to gaze into Steve’s eyes.

"If you guys would like to - " Vickie said, nudging him back.

"Go out with us!" They finished together.

"Well, that was fucking cute," Steve said.

"But I think we're going to have to have a huddle of our own," Robin said, winking at Vickie.

They couldn't move very far away, but they talked quietly for a moment before squealing and then jumping up and down. They calmed down and straightened up while wiping imaginary lint off of their clothes. They walked back over, looking serious.

"We accept!" Steve and Robin exclaimed.

"But you should know that you guys didn't have to become platonic soulmates just to ask us out," Steve said.

"I know. It kind of just happened," Vickie shrugged and grinned at Eddie.

Eddie took her by the shoulders and moved Vickie directly in front of Robin.

"I am handing you my platonic soulmate. Be careful with her," Eddie said.

"And the same to you," Robin said as she pushed Steve towards Eddie.

"Why does this feel like a drug deal?" Steve asked.

"Maybe it's because you're the best kind of drug, baby," Eddie said, kissing his cheek.

"That was a good one," Vickie said.

Steve blushed and squeezed Eddie's shoulder, causing him to wince. That's when he noticed that Eddie was slightly pink.

"Eddie! You're sunburned! I told you to use sunscreen," Steve said.

"I'm a rebel, baby," Eddie winked at him.

"Oh, so you want to get skin cancer?!" Steve exclaimed.

"I smoke too! Do you want to tell me about getting lung cancer?" Eddie scoffed.

"Yes! I only ever had the occasional smoke, and I quit," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Is this how it's going to be? You worrying about me?" Eddie asked with a grin.

"Yes!" Steve said, and Eddie wrapped his arms around him, kissing his cheek. "Plus, I'd rather you not have to use an oxygen tank in between makeout sessions."

"Fair point," Eddie laughed.

Vickie and Robin giggled before sharing a look.

"Dinguses!" They exclaimed.

"Our platonic dinguses," Vickie said, and Robin kissed her cheek, causing her to blush.

The Last Steve Harrington

The apocalypse sucked.

The sky was always the same depressing shade of Vecna Scarlet and Steve hadn’t seen the sun in 432 days. Or what he thought had been 432 days. It was hard to tell sometimes without anything to mark the passage of time. He tried to sleep when he was tired but couldn’t let his guard down with Demodogs and Demobats roaming around. Vecna had left Hawkins, but the open portals still spit out the occasional Upside Down monster. Sleeping also meant dreaming and nightmares. Steve didn’t know which were worse; the dreams where everyone was alive and he had to wake up or the nightmares where he watched them die over and over again. He didn’t sleep much.

He had slowly made his way through every house in the area looking for food and supplies, but there was only one left. Which meant it was time to leave Hawkins. He would scavenge the last house and then head out. He didn’t really have a plan but figured he would just start walking in the opposite direction to the one Vecna had taken. He went up to the house and broke the glass above the door. Sticking his hand in carefully to avoid the shards, he unlocked it from the inside. He opened the door and listened carefully for any movement before heading to the kitchen.

He checked the cupboards first, knowing not to touch the fridge. The power had turned off in the first few months of Vecna’s invasion and never came back on. The first few cupboards had plates and dishware so he kept looking until he came across the canned goods. The first cans were baked beans.

“Why is there always beans?” Steve asked himself. He fucking hated beans. Moving them to the side, he spotted canned peaches and Campbell’s soup.

“Jackpot.”

He grabbed them, put them on the counter, and went searching for water. Food had never been a problem but water was getting harder to find. The grocery store and super-market had been cleaned out of bottled water after the ‘earthquake,’ and the taps weren’t working anymore. There also hadn’t been any rain since Vecna fucked up the sky so no way to get fresh water. Luckily, he found some bottles in the pantry, along with stale cookies. Delicious. He grabbed his backpack off his shoulder and dumped everything out onto the counter.

The backpack had all his worldly possessions. The peaches and soup went to the bottom of the bag with the rest of his canned goods. He ate the cookies as he repacked. He used to have more clothes but they were a waste of space. Underwear and socks were the only spare clothes he kept anymore. He also had a blanket, flashlight, lighter, cigarettes, ammunition, spare batteries for his Walkman, some tapes, and Dustin’s copy of The Hobbit. He shoved his bat back down the side and zipped it up to keep everything in place. Unclipping his canteen from the side, he refilled it with the bottled water.

He hefted the bag, pleased that the new cans didn’t add too much weight and threw it back over his shoulder. Steve looked down for a moment, taking stock of himself. Boots from War Zone were laced up to his ankles. A machete was strapped to his left leg with the holster for his handgun right above it. His jeans were filthy but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Every bit of him was covered in grime, water too precious to use for washing. He had a thick grey sweater on with Eddie’s jacket layered over top. He nodded. Time to go.

After leaving the house, Steve looked around. When he had started scavenging, he had worked his way from the heart of Hawkins and moved outwards. He had saved this house for last because it was on the very outskirts of the city. Walking to the road he looked right then left. Left led back to Hawkins and right led out of the city.

“Good-bye,” he said to the only home he had ever known and turned right down the road.

The only good thing about the sky being fucked was he didn’t have to worry about the weather anymore. The bad thing about the sky being fucked was no plants could grow anymore and all the trees were either dead or dying, leaving very little cover on the open road. Steve hated feeling so exposed, but at least he could also see anything coming towards him. Stopping for a moment, he took his Walkman out of the bag and popped in his Bruce Springsteen tape. He put the headphones around his neck and turned the volume all the way up. He needed to be able to hear so he never put the headphones over his ears.

He had a few tapes in his bag but Springsteen was his favourite. He had listened through it twice when a distortion appeared in front of him. It looked like a portal, the edges of reality bending into a focal point. It shimmered and cracked with electricity. Jesus Christ, Steve could not handle Demodogs or Demobats in the middle of nowhere without any cover or defensible position. He could handle one dog, maybe a couple of bats. But what were the odds that only a manageable few would come out of a portal? Slim to none. Steve was fucked.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

Steve had promised Dustin before he died that he would fight. That he would never give up. And over the past year, he had wanted to give up over and over and over. But he kept going. Because that promise was all he had left. But the portal was opening, and he was tired. There was nowhere for him to run. This was the end. Steve was… relieved. It was finally going to be over. He dropped his bag and took his bat out. He wouldn’t go down without a fight…he had promised after all.

The distortion pulsed once before breaking open into a doorway, Steve took a step back but stopped and stared in bewilderment when it wasn’t The Upside Down on the other side. The sky was blue and sunlight leaked out, close enough that Steve could feel its warmth. The grass was green and a sweet-smelling wind swept over him. His bat slipped from his fingers. Standing in front of him were his kids.

He was dead.

He didn’t know how it happened and he didn’t care.

He sobbed and ran to them.

Dustin. Max. Will. Eleven. Lucas. Mike.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cried as he got closer. He reached Dustin first and crushed the younger man into his chest. The rest of them crowded in around him, hugging him. He opened his arms to gather them all close. Tears were streaming down his face as he laughed and cried and held them. He closed his eyes and turned his face up to the sun, feeling the warmth on his face. This was heaven. It must be. He had missed them so much. His kids.

“Where’s everyone else? Where’s Eddie?” he asked, looking around. He needed to see him. If Steve was dead, then he should be here, too. Everyone should be here.

“We didn’t tell them we were looking for you,” Dustin replied. “We didn’t want them to get their hopes up in case we couldn’t find you.”

That…made no sense. Steve dropped his arms and stepped back from them. Max and Eleven stuck close to his sides, holding on to the sleeves of his sweater like they were afraid he was going to float away.

“What?”

“It took El a long time, she traveled to-” Dustin trailed off and turned to Eleven, “how many did you go to El?”

“Thousands,” she said and nodded. “I would have gone to a thousand more.”

“I don’t understand. Thousands of what?”

“Parallel universes, Steve. Keep up!” Dustin said.

Steve blinked. Parallel what?

“You’re all dead,” Steve said slowly, “and I’m dead.”

“No!” they yelled.

“Our Steve died when we killed Vecna. El has been searching through parallel universes to find a Steve who had lost us and we finally found you,” Max chimed in for the first time.

“Why did it take so many?”

Eleven looked uncomfortable. “The circumstances had to be right. I could not take a Steve away from his family.” There was something they weren’t telling him. Eleven didn’t lie, but she was skirting the truth right now and Steve could tell.

“What were the others like? The other Steves?”

She turned away from him. Looked at Mike and then Dustin. Both of the younger boys looked back wide eyed and terrified. An awful feeling started curdling in Steve’s gut.

“Steve-” Dustin started but Eleven beat him to it.

“They all died, Steve. In every other universe Steve Harrington dies.”

“El!” Mike yelled.

“Friends do not lie.”

“Every one?” Steve asked, startled.

“Yes,” she replied. “Every one. Except for you.”

“How? How did they all die?”

“They sacrificed themselves to save us. To save the world.”

The words hung in the air around them. Steve turned back to the open portal that showed the hell-scape that was his home. He hadn’t sacrificed himself. He had lived and his world had ended. The truth smacked him hard in the face. If he had given up his life, everyone he cared about would still be alive. An easy choice to make for every single Steve Harrington in every single universe, except for him. The coward who chose himself.

He was going to be sick. He pushed the kids away and tumbled to his knees. He vomited into the grass, his body shaking from the force of it.

“I don’t belong here,” Steve whispered but Max heard him.

“Yes, you do,” she said with no hesitation.

“I’m the only one who didn’t sacrifice himself and my world ended. How the hell can I live with myself knowing that? Knowing that I doomed my whole world and everyone I loved because I was afraid?”

“I watched you die many times,” Eleven said. “Saving Dustin, or Max, or Eddie or me. Steve always put himself in front of us because he did not think he mattered as much as we did. So, I am glad that you were afraid. That in one universe you saved yourself. You deserve to live just as much as the rest of us. Don’t you think your Eleven or your Dustin would be happy you lived? That you made it back to us?”

“I don’t know! They’re dead and I’m not and I don’t know what to do with this – this new life you’re trying to give me. I don’t deserve it! I failed them! They needed me to be strong, to be their protector and instead I saved myself!” Steve stood up and pointed his finger at her. “You’re not my Eleven,” he said and then spun around to Dustin, “and you’re not my Dustin and I sure as shit am not your Steve.”

He was breathing erratically and couldn’t catch his breath properly. Steve spun and ran for the portal that would take him back to where he belonged. He would go home to the apocalypse he had created and he would let something kill him so he could be with his family. That’s all he deserved.

The world went black before he reached it.

Part 2

They had just finished up band practice when Vickie overheard Jordan and Brandon talking about Eddie Munson. Robin had walked out already, promising to wait outside the band hall for her.

"I don't know, man, I still think Eddie did it," Jordan said.

"They wouldn't have let him back into school if they thought he was still a murderer, Jordan," Brandon said.

"They were willing to ignore the fact that he was selling drugs, man," Jordan said.

"It's just weed," Brandon sighed and rolled his eyes.

"No, I heard he sells special K too," Jordan said. "That's the date rape drug. I wouldn't be surprised if he was using it on those kids in his club."

"Hey, Jordan," Vickie snapped.

She was seeing red. She had never been this angry in her entire life. She had been hanging out with Robin a lot lately, trying to work up the courage to ask her out. Hanging out with her meant hanging out with Robin's friends, and she's enjoyed hanging out with them. She's seen the way Eddie was with Dustin and his friends, the way he was willing to own up to the mistakes he did make. He didn't have a killer bone in his entire body.

"Shit, Vickie's pissed. Have you ever seen her pissed?" Jordan asked with wide eyes.

"Nope, and it looks like it's directed at you, pal," Brandon said.

"Hey, Vickie," Jordan smiled gently.

"Jordan, your dad's a pharmaceutical salesman, right?" Vickie asked, trying to remain level-headed.

"Yeah?" Jordan asked.

"Well, what's the difference between what he does and what Eddie does?" Vickie asked.

"Well, his drugs aren't illegal," Jordan scoffed. "And he doesn't use them to kill people."

"Dude," Brandon said and gave him a warning look.

"He and Steve Harrington are awfully chummy. Bet they use the drugs on Buckley to - ,"

All Vickie could see was red, and before she knew it, her fist was flying into his face. Her eyes widened when his head snapped back, and blood started to gush from his nose.

"The difference is that yes, the drugs are illegal," Vickie said, shaking. "Some of your dad's drugs are addictive and some aren't, just like Eddie's. What makes them the same is the fact that they can't know what someone's going to do with them, so the fact that Eddie sells drugs has shit to do with what happened. You don't know what happened because you don't know Eddie. He could never hurt a fly."

"You're crazy, just like -," but Jordan was interrupted.

"Hey!" Brandon snapped. "You were being a douchebag, so much so that sweet, calm Vickie Fisher punched you in the face. If anyone asks, I'm going to tell them you tripped, and no one will believe you that you got punched by Vickie because I'm pretty sure that most everyone in here has her back. Go on, Vickie, I'll deal with this asshole."

"Thanks, Brandon," Vickie said softly.

She was running on pure adrenaline when she walked up to Robin. She was leaning against Steve’s car, talking to both Steve and Eddie. There was no one else around when Vickie popped up beside Robin.

"Hey, Fishie," Eddie grinned.

Normally, she would tell Eddie off affectionately for calling her that, but she left it alone this time.

"Robin, do you want to go out with me?" Vickie asked, knowing already that she was out to Steve and Eddie.

Eddie squealed, gasped, and held onto Steve.

"Stevie, it's happening!" Eddie said excitedly.

"I know!" Steve grinned.

"Uh. . .yeah. Yes, I would very much like to go out with you," Robin grinned, blushing.

Vickie grinned and slipped her arm through Robin's.

"So, what made you decide to ask out our dear sweet Birdie?" Eddie asked.

Vickie opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by Jordan approaching them. His nose was red, and he had missed a few spots of blood, but he suddenly looked apologetic.

"Uh, Vickie? I just wanted to apologize. I realize now that I was talking shit about stuff I know nothing about. I said some awful things about your friends. I know that now. I'm sorry," Jordan said. "You have a mean right hook, by the way."

Before she could say something, he was walking away.

"Ah, so it was adrenaline after you defended Robin's honor," Eddie said.

"Not just Robin's, yours too, Eddie," Vickie blushed.

"Aw, Fishie," Eddie said, squishing her face. "You don't have to do that. That's what I have Steve for."

"That is not what you have Steve for," Steve replied, and Vickie giggled.

Robin leaned her head against hers.

"I want to kiss you so badly," Robin whispered.

"Boys, argue later. Let's get out of here!" Vickie exclaimed.

Of course, as soon as they drove off with Vickie and Robin in the backseat, Vickie was capturing Robin's lips with hers. She could hear Eddie wolf whistle, then Steve scolding him. Robin started laughing against her lips, causing Vickie to do the same.

If you think the CC boys aren't looking for Eddie, you're wrong

----

Steve opened his trunk and placed the groceries inside, Eddie’s special requests next to his usual staples and the excessive number of snacks he had grabbed for this week’s check in at Hopper’s cabin. Eddie was probably just being cute, requesting the same thing they had brought him in the boathouse, but Steve figured it would be just as cute to refill the request anyway. Anything to make Eddie smile and call him a sap in that overly sweet way he had.

He closed the trunk, pulling his keys out of his pocket. Already excited to get home to that amused smile and twinkling eyes.

“Where the fuck is Eddie?”

Steve jumped about a foot in the air, spinning on the spot, fumbling his keys in an embarrassing 3-part scramble that still ended with them clanking to the ground. He’s effectively trapped against his car, three boys glaring at him from a few feet away. How the hell did they sneak up on him in tandem like that?

They stood in a V-formation, arms crossed and eyes angry. The one in front, a black boy with braces and close-cropped hair who was doing his best to stare down at Steve despite their roughly even height, spoke again. “We don’t know what is going on, what happened, but you and Henderson are definitely involved.”

“I… I don’t…” Steve looked around quickly, hoping something would appear and save him from this conversation. Nothing did, the parking lot was empty except for them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit, man!” the smallest of the three exclaimed, pointing angrily in Steve’s face. “Whatever the fuck happened involved your stupid basketball team and our freshman members and god KNOWS what else but there’s no way Eddie would ever-”

“He didn’t do anything to that girl,” the first boy interrupted, Jeff, Steve’s brain slowly supplied, based on stories he’d heard from both Dustin and Eddie. This must be the rest of Corroded Coffin. Jeff, Gareth, and… shit what was the third kids name? Doesn’t matter, he needed to come up with an exit strategy fast.

Steve raised his hands, painfully aware that his keys were still on the ground. “Look, guys, I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me. Yeah, I don’t believe Eddie did anything to Chrissy. Henderson is at home, I haven’t even seen him in days. I don’t know where Eddie would’ve gone after the earthquake, you’d know better than-”

“You’ve got his battle jacket in your back seat.” Unnamed member cut in, voice hard.

“You just bought honeycombs, yoo-hoos, and camel cigarettes.” Gareth, the little one, chimed in.

Jeff took a step forward, making sure Steve was looking at him before he slowly reached forward and carefully pulled on the chain around Steve’s neck, drawing the guitar pick out from where it had rested under his shirt. The younger boy just raised his eyebrows, emphasizing the implication.

Steve sagged against his car, and Jeff let the necklace slip from his fingers as it was pulled back with his movement. It fell against the outside of his shirt, the red and black guitar pick stark and damning against the light blue of today’s polo.

Steve rubbed at his face, refusing to meet the trio of accusing glares. These were Eddie’s friends. His brothers according to the metalhead in question. There was no reason for Steve to be wearing that necklace other than what it was: a claim. They would know that, better than anyone. There was no getting out of this.

“Jesus H. Christ, okay. Okay. He’s… at my place. Just, follow me, I guess.”

Time Loop Steddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too ⏳

pulling your strings

Thorinoakentwig

He wakes up to the melody of Kate Bush and the sound of Dustin and Lucas arguing about what sounds like who would win in a fight between Batman and Superman.

It’s like ice water dripping down his spine and Steve jerks up wide eyed and horrified as the kids look over at him in confusion.

Words : 14,260 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting.

badpancake

The one where Steve Harrington is stuck in a time loop, and Eddie Munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck Volume 2, these bitches are in love.

Words : 41,496 Chapters : 12/12 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

ride the dragon's wing

fypical

In the Upside Down, hours later, Steve turns and looks at Dustin and Eddie and thinks please run please run please don’t die leave us behind if you have to— “Listen, don’t … try anything, if shit goes wrong, okay? Just get out of here.”

Words : 11,766 Chapters : 3/3 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

and it all comes down to you

heartofwinterfell

Eddie Munson’s no hero. Too bad the universe—or whatever’s gonna be left of it—didn’t get the memo.

Words : 18,638 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

I can't save us, my Atlantis

kissmejusttokissme

Steve will relive the night of the battle as many times as it takes to make things right.

Words : 8,787 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

echo

CaptainHoney

Loop 6 - Steve Eddie bleeds out in his arms.

Loop 27 - Steve Eddie bleeds out in his arms.

Loop 304 - Steve Eddie bleeds out in his arms.

Loop 368 - Steve Eddie bleeds out in his arms.

Words : 30,342 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

the lathe

palmviolet

"This time, do it right. This time Eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. This time, Steve will do it right."

Words : 82,547 Chapters : 13/13 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Times Like These

Hbyrde

Death doesn’t hurt. It is in fact the opposite of hurt. Eddie knows precisely the moment he dies because that is the moment the pain stops. He floats away into blackness and can’t even bring himself to be scared. he’s too relieved that the pain has stopped. Before he can think much about where he’s floating off to, a loud rushing sound hits his ears. He thinks about covering his ears with his hands to drown the sound out but at the moment he’s not even sure he HAS hands.

With that frightening thought his eyes shoot open and his feet hit solid ground. He’s in the trailer and Chrissy is standing a few feet in front of him “are you sure you have it?” she says.

Words : 49,700 Chapters : 10/10 Rating : Not Rated (Explicit)

AO3 : x

you are going to die in your best friend’s arms. (but he won’t let you leave like that)

oaseas

Dustin wakes up in Max’s trailer the day of Eddie’s death. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but three times? Three times is a pattern.

Words : 22,505 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

“Have you…ever been in love?” 

Steve blinked. That…wasn’t what he was expecting. Still, there’s only one definitive answer. 

“Yep,” he answers, popping the ‘p’. “Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” His mimicked gunshot doesn’t even cover how that felt, but he does it anyway. 

“Oh my god,” he hears from the other side, “She’s such a priss.”

Nancy Wheeler is a lot of things; priss, she is not. And maybe she doesn’t need him to defend her, but, still, he hums, “Turns out, not really.” 

Robin scoffs as if that’s unbelievable, and maybe it could be. Then, she asks, “Are you still in love with Nancy?”

No, is the first thought in his mind. And, well, it’s strange to think his answer would’ve been different at the beginning of the year, as much as he’d told himself he’d moved on back then. But, the months in between have just made him realize that how he feels for her has changed a lot since October. He loves her, of course he does, and he’ll never really get over her. But, he doesn’t think he’ll ever love her like he did again.

So, after a moment, he says, “No.”

Then, of course, she asks the question he’s been avoiding thinking about: “Why not?” 

There’s a lot of answers to that question, but Steve…well, he knows the one that’s most responsible, even if it’s been thrown to the back of his mind. He’s never really brought it to the light of day before—if bathroom lights could be called that. But there’s just something about this moment, sitting with Robin on a probably disgusting bathroom floor with his mind still kinda floating, that makes him feel like it’s safe here. They just went through hell—there wasn’t a better time, right?

“I think,” he starts, “it’s because I found someone who’s a little better for me.” He huffs a laugh, “It’s funny, you know? Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying, like, you gotta find your Suzie, you gotta find your Suzie.” 

“Wait, who’s Suzie?”

“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend. To be honest with you, I'm not 100% sure she's even real.” Steve shakes his head and kinda wishes he’d thought up a better analogy. “But that’s not really the point. Uh, the point is…I think I already found my Suzie. You know—this person is someone I didn’t even talk to in school, and I don’t know why. Maybe Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me, or I wouldn’t be…prom king. It’s stupid.” He sighs. “I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all a bunch of bullshit anyways. I should’ve been hanging out with this person the whole time. I wish I did. I mean, they’re so cool and hilarious—I feel like, the past few months, I’ve laughed harder than I have in a long time. And they’re smart, and a dork, but so passionate—you know, they can talk on and on about so many things, it’s amazing.” Captivating, really, but the second it takes to reminisce about those moments are enough to make him realize he’s been rambling for like, minutes, and he’s gotta stop at some point. So, “They’re honestly unlike anyone I’ve ever even met before.”

Steve smiles to himself for a second, his head still feeling a little flighty—but the silence keeps dragging on beyond that. The smile falls a bit, and Steve really hopes he was careful enough with his words. He really hopes he can trust Robin if he wasn’t. 

“Robin?” Steve taps on the stall wall between them, the sound echoing through the bathroom. When the silence just gets heavier, it’s with genuine concern that he asks, “Robin, did just OD in there?” 

“No.” He breathes a sigh of relief, then hears it echoed, though weighted, from the other side. “I…am still alive.” 

Still, there’s something so heavy in her tone, and a visual confirmation that she is alive becomes essential for him. So, shuffling over to grip the wall between them, Steve slides underneath the stall and lands a little to the left of where she sits, alive and breathing. She smiles a bit.

“The floor’s disgusting.” He huffs and glances down at the sailor uniform that has (probably) seen better. “Yeah, well. I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” 

She breathes a bit of a laugh, and, at the very least, some of the heaviness is gone. Alive and breathing. 

“What do you think?” he asks her, almost intentionally vague. 

“About?”

“Am I in love with Nancy Wheeler?” 

“No,” she grants. Then, very decidedly, “But, I think you’re on drugs and not thinking clearly.” 

And the look she gives him feels too significant, too weighted, and he really, really hopes he was careful because the possibility he wasn’t is starting to loom over him. He can’t argue that his mind was in stellar shape a few minutes ago, and everything she’s done since then is just working to form a pit of dread in his stomach. It feels like wishful thinking to consider that nothing she’s said has been outwardly accusing, but it’s still there.  

Why did he have to say so much? 

No, no, right. The drugs. Robin may be right, he probably wasn’t thinking clearly. And, damn it, this may not be entirely his fault but he does not want the repercussions for it. 

“Well, I think I’m thinking pretty clearly now.” Wishful thinking, it is. 

“You’re not.” Somehow, her expression feels like an echo of his own worries. “Steve,” she starts, and the dread gets worse, “you’re not thinking clearly about this. Look, you don’t even know this person—” Wait, what? “and if you did know them, like, really know them—I don’t think you’d even want to be their friend.” 

Steve blinks. That—That’s what she was talking about? How did she even know who he was talking about? He shakes his head, honestly baffled. “Wait, what? That’s not true.” 

She speaks again before he could ask what about everything he said was so revealing, “Listen to me, Steve. It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you—” Harsh. “I really like you. But I’m not like your other friends. And I’m not like Nancy Wheeler.” 

Well, Steve thought he was thinking clearly, but he is lost. Somehow, this conversation has escaped him within the span of two seconds, and the moment feels wrong to ask how they got here. But, if he’s going to take any guess at her meaning, he much prefers thinking she’s…supportive, maybe. Indifferent, even. So, he doesn’t think of the ball of dread winding through his chest, and he tries to follow what Robin may be saying. “Robin, that’s exactly why I like you.” 

And that is the truth, really. He’s never had a friend like her, if they could be considered friends. This summer has carved a small space for her in Steve’s heart, and the past few days have done numbers on expanding that space. She’s funny and smart and definitely not like Nancy Wheeler, wherever that came from. And he really doesn’t want to lose her, not right now. If they get out of this, he wants to be her friend. He wants to know her better than ice cream shifts can tell him. 

Robin scoffs lightly as if that’s not what she needed to believe him. “Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?”

“Yeah?” He nods slightly. 

“It isn’t because I had a crush on you,” she says, slowly, as if a plea to make him understand. He doesn’t. “It’s because…” she continues, hesitant in her words, and he desperately wants to know how to make this better because his heart breaks for the expression she has. Then, quickly, like ripping off a bandaid, “...she wouldn’t stop staring at you.” 

He blinks. “Mrs. Click?” 

A breath of a laugh at that, but her eyes plant themselves on the wall. She clarifies, almost resigned, “Tammy Thompson. I wanted her to look at me. But…she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair.” She looks back at him, with watery eyes. “And I didn’t understand because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor and you would ask dumb questions and you were a douchebag!” She shakes her head lightly and he really is trying to understand. “And…And you didn’t even like her, and I would go home and just…scream into my pillow.”

Steve stares for a second, trying to will his brain back into place, his thoughts to something clear, because something is being said here, something important and—

The puzzle pieces click together.

Oh. 

Oh!

“Holy shit.” 

“Holy shit,” she echoes.

Unwillingly, Steve laughs. A bark of laughter just bursting out of him because, jesus-–this entire situation is so botched. But her face falls and he immediately stops in a wave of guilt and throws himself at reassuring her. “No, no, that’s not what I meant! I didn’t mean to do that.” 

Robin looks away again, shrugs. “It’s fine.”

No, that won’t do. Steve shakes his head, vehemently, and taps her hand. “No, Robin, seriously—there’s been a huge misunderstanding here. I don’t have a crush on you.”

That makes her look back at him, eyebrows furrowed “What?”

“I think you’re awesome, Robin, and super cool and smart. I really want to be friends with you, seriously. But I wasn’t talking about you.” And Steve could stop there, but she just revealed…herself to him and he owes it to her to do the same. He knows how terrifying that is. “I was— Jesus.” He laughs again, brushes a hand down his face. And, still, knowing about her doesn’t make it any less terrifying to say it out loud. “I was talking about, um,” Like a bandaid, right? “...Eddie Munson.”

Her eyebrows seem to go to her hairline, but he celebrates the light that’s back in her eyes. “What.”

“Yeah, we uh—” There’s warmth in his cheeks. This is the first time he’s saying any of this out loud. “I don’t know how it happened, but we ran into each other one day and just started talking and…like, hit it off, super surprisingly. It’s crazy, he wasn’t even on my radar back then and now he’s—” Steve cuts himself off before he can start rambling again, rubs the back of his neck. “I really like him. I was talking about him.”

Robin grins. “Holy shit.” She shakes her head, repeats, “Holy. Shit,” enunciating, as if for good measure. He matches her grin.

“I had no idea what you were talking about.” He explains, “I mean, maybe I don’t really know Eddie, but how do you know that? And then you started talking about Mrs. Click’s…” he mimics an explosion in his head. “I thought the drugs completely fried my brain.” 

She laughs, finally, her head falling back onto the wall, and he can’t help but follow her lead. It’s a good few moments before they stop, Robin suddenly sobering to hold a hand, saying “Wait, wait, Eddie Munson? You’re hanging out with drug dealer, total nerd, band dweeb Eddie Munson?” 

“Hey, hey, I didn’t say you could criticize my taste, Miss Tammy Thompson.” 

She scoffs, sounding just a bit offended, “What’s wrong with Tammy?”

“I mean, she’s cute and all but she’s a total dud.” 

“She is not!”

. . .

Mama Ricci Knows Best

Part 1 Part 2 AO3

Eddie doesn't know what he'd been expecting. At this point, he knows more about Steve than should probably be allowed. Knows that his favorite color is yellow, that he's terrible with spicy food but always goes for it anyways. Eddie knows that Steve is working towards an education degree out of the city with his best friend (platonic soulmate? whatever that means), should be graduating next year. He's a great swimmer, a huge partier, and apparently an amazing cook.

And really, Steve sounds like an amazing guy, Mama Ricci has done her very best to give the impression that he's as perfect as perfection can be. But that's exactly what makes Eddie skeptical, because, yes Steve sounds great in theory, but it's his grandmother speaking, how accurate can the depiction really be?

Plus if he's being honest, finding a stable relationship is at the bottom of his priority list right now. He's content with his day-to-day routine and social life as it is, doesn't really need more than his hand and the occassional hookup. The single life is pretty chill right now actually.

So yeah, Eddie doesn't care enough to form an expectation, could watch any guy close enough to Mama Ricci's description walk in, and be neither pleased nor disappointed to learn that they're Steve. Surely that kind of open mind would prepare him for whoever he might have to eventually turn down if they happen to be interested. After all, He's too much of a coward to outwardly tell sweet ol' Mama Ricci herself to let up on her matchmaking.

That being said, nothing could have prepared him for the real deal.

For Steve Harrington in the flesh.

"Fuck Chrissy, he's beautiful."

Eddie's eyes are glued onto the hardwood floor, one hand hanging loosely off the side of the couch.

"Like actually gorgeous. I'm talking Vogue cover type shit."

There's a moment of silence that fills the small apartment living room. Then Eddie turns his head and screams–yet again– into the fluffy throw pillow. The sound is muffled but still has enough impact for its intended effect. At least judging by the snort he hears from the kitchen.

"Then quit being a big baby about it and just ask him out. You already have his grandmother's blessing, that's like what? rolling with advantage?"

And as much as Eddie appreciates the cleverly inputed DnD reference– it pleases him more than anything to know Chrissy retains at least some of his out of party campaign rambles– he finds it hard to agree.

"Um. Not necessarily?" Eddie says as he sits up and helps himself to one of the fruit platters Chrissy places on the center table as she drops onto the carpeted floor.

"I mean even if Mama Ricci did tell him all about me, doesn't mean he'd actually be interested yknow? It's his grandma for Christ sake! Guy probably doesn't think much of it."

Chrissy grabs an apple off the platter, bites down on it gracefully like she does everything, a stark contrast to Eddie who is the walking definition of a catastrophe.

"Well? Did he seem interested when he saw you?"

Eddie thinks back to their awfully brief meeting. The smile he'd been greeted with was dazzling, all pearly whites, long lashes over soft brown eyes and tanned features dotted with the prettiest freckles. As much as he loves to imagine that the cheerful greeting was anything more than a polite customer service obligation, it's hard to fully do so when the rest of his stay was met with a standoffish demeanor and a solid poker face.

There had been that one second where he swore he'd seen the guy flush– Eddie can't remember what he'd said though cause his brain had officially logged out of the conversation at that point– but that could easily have been all in his head.

Then again, the moment Eddie had gotten his order, he'd practically scarfed down the meal and ran out. Was it a panicked decision? Yes. But nothing triggers his fight or flight response more than someone that attractive. Like seriously, that shit totally snuck up on him. Thank goodness for his highschool improv classes and fake-it-till-you-make-it mentality, otherwise, he might have walked right back out the moment he'd seen the guy.

"Hard to say." Eddie settles for, and Chrissy hums thoughtfully. He thinks maybe she'll offer some solid advice. Some life changing shit that'll ring true and somehow provide the magical answers he needs to his rather pathetic problems ( it's honestly not that rare of an occurence with her), instead all Chrissy does is shrug and grab another apple slice.

"Whatever happened to 'I know Mama Ricci is sweet Chrissy, but I'm not gonna date her grandson cause of it. That's not how this shit works." Her voice is a lower pitch, meant to imitate Eddie as she throws his own words back at him.

Eddie feels something dangerously close to embarrassment boil at the pit of his stomach from the clear irony. He narrows his eyes at her, debates smacking the back of her head with the pillow, but debunks the idea once he realizes just how comfortable it feels pressed against his cheek.

"Yknow what? I liked you better when you didn't know you were allowed to have a personality."

Chrissy laughs, unaffected by the playful jab–a normalcy for them– at the days she'd spent being nothing more than a dress up doll for her mother.

"Yeah okay freak." She answers and this time fully earns the pillow smack.

Since Chrissy is completely and utterly useless (he's not just going to walk up to a dude that looks like a fucking greek god and ask him out), Eddie chooses to approach the whole thing as casually as possible.

Or in other words, decides not to approach it at all.

Eddie likes to think he can be a pretty smooth dude when he wants to be, but that's only a result of years of bullshitting his way through most of his life. He knows for a fact that if he does that now, he just might–as in definitely will–make an absolute fool of himself.

So Eddie's next few visits are brief, and he spends only a fraction of his usual time conversing with the staff before disappearing.

It's especially easy to keep his visits brief since true to Mama Ricci's words, the restaurant does get busier. There are still the occasional slow days, but the hectic ones are just as frequent now.

Eddie can see that Mama Ricci disapproves of his quicker departures. Even when she's swamped, swerving through a maze of filled tables, she always finds the time to stop by, to place one of her air kisses at the side of his cheek before diving back into the crowd of fussy customers. There's always a little frown on her face whenever he pays and instantly gets up to leave.

But it's good for Eddie because his interactions with Steve are limited to quick professional exchanges– which he definitely does not spend oggling those broad shoulders, pouty lips and that maddeningly perky ass.

Sometimes Steve isn't around and it's just the main 3 and the new handful of summer employers (which fair, the guy probably has a social life outside of the restaurant), and on those days Eddie tries not to appear too disappointed, though he always ends up leaving even earlier.

He thinks he's at least being subtle about it, until the afternoon Max slides him a plate of polenta and apologizes for the absence of Steve on their menu that day. The little brat.

Needless to say, Eddie tries to be more careful with his staring after that. (Especially when he catches one of Mama Ricci's knowing glances while looking around–not for Steve of course..)

But it's a good little routine of avoidance, and things stay that way for a bit.

At least until Mama Ricci intervenes yet again.

It's one of those rare days that start off busy but trickles off as evening approaches. Since the Corroded Coffin gig had been cancelled last minute, Eddie'd figured he'd hop in for a quick meal and be out as quickly as always.

He greets one of the summer employees on their way out, and finds the store empty when he walks in. Max is by one of the window seats scrolling through her phone with her headphones in. She looks up to regard him with a nod but doesn't bother coming over to take his order.

There's Italian bickering from the kitchen, a little muffled behind the curtains, but that's something Eddie's used to hearing at this point. Mrs. Mayfield peeks out, eyes widening slightly when she sees Eddie.

"I thought I heard the bell. Max! Don't just sit th-" But Max isn't listening, still bobbing her head in the corner. Mrs. Mayfield stops mid-sentence, sighs and pulls out her notepad with a weary smile.

"What can I get you Eds?" She asks and Eddie raises a brow as the bickering rises in volume and there's something like a door slam.

"Oh don't mind them." Mrs. Mayfield says. "Those two are always like that. Close but in that way where they'll bicker over literally anything. It's actually scarier when they're in agreement." She explains. Eddie pictures the sharp reprimands he's seen Mama Ricci give some of her workers on occasion, pictures the scowl he'd seen Steve send to a particularly rude customer once. Somehow he can picture how the two as a joined force would be quite intimidating.

"Ah, makes sense." Eddie says, then places his order.

Mama Ricci is the one to serve him, and it's almost amazing how fast the frown on her face morphs into a wide grin when she sees him. He honestly loves her so much.

Eddie doesn't see Steve through his meal, even tries to eat slower so he gets a chance. It's more than a little disappointing when he's done and still doesn't catch a glimpse.

He's tucking his wallet into his back pocket and getting ready to leave. That's when he hears the loud grunt.

Mama Ricci has one hand braced against the wall behind the counter, bending forward slightly. She's massaging her back with slow movements and there's a black bag leaning against her leg. Instantly Eddie frowns and moves forward. He swears he hears Mrs. Mayfield mumble something under her breath behind him, but can't quite make it out.

"Everything okay?" Eddie asks from across the counter and is answered with another quiet groan.

"It's these old bones of mine Eddie." Mama Ricci complains "Can't move around like I used to." Her fingers gesture slightly towards the garbage bag at her feet and Eddie does the only right thing to do in the situation.

He's barely done asking if he can help before Mama Ricci is thanking him, motioning for him to join her behind the counter.

"There's another one inside by the sink. The bin is right outside, just go through the back door and it's on your right." She points through the kitchen and Eddie nods in understanding. He grabs both bags as instructed, and since the space is relatively small, the back door is hard to miss.

It's not exactly the first time Eddie has lended Mama Ricci a hand, but usually the older woman is more opposed to hand outs of any kind. So it feels kind of good– a little odd, but good–that she easily accepts the help this time.

Eddie's swinging the door open with his leg when he sees the sharp jerk of movement. He reels back in surprise, wide eyes snapping up to face equally startled ones.

It's Steve, looking positively cornered as he hides an arm behind his back, lips pressing together for only a second before peeling apart instantly to let out a series of deep coughs. The wave of smoke that leaves with the sound is an instant giveaway.

Eddie waits through the coughs, mostly frozen in place because he definitely had not been prepared for this interaction.

"Shit." He's honestly a little surprised to find that the curse isn't from his own lips.

A few more coughs and Steve finally pulls his arm out to reveal the cigarette stick in his hand.

"Sorry I thought you were my grandma" He explains, pausing momentarily before waving the small burning stick in his hand. "I huh..was gonna quit."

Eddie blinks and finally realizes that being frozen in place probably isn't a great look, no matter how pretty Steve looks with his hair tousled like that and those pink lips curling again around the depleting cigarette.

"I see." Eddie says after clearing his throat. It's his cue to finally lug the two garbage bags out, letting the door shut loudly behind him. He pretends he doesn't feel the way Steve's eyes follow him as he finds the bin in the distance and tosses each bag in.

Eddie doesn't know why he expects Steve to avert his gaze when he turns around, but those brown eyes are still on him when he does.

Steve's leaning against the wall now, cigarette smothered and forgotten, and his expression doesn't betray anything. Considering the fact that it's their first interaction outside of the restaurant, Eddie thinks he's dying a little.

Okay, fuck that. He's dying a lot.

"So." Steve starts, angling his position against the wall so they're fully facing each other. Eddie summons every last bit of false courage he can to sound just as casual when he repeats the word. "So?"

Steve's blank expression doesn't budge, but his full attention is nothing if not overwhelming.

"The famous Eddie Munson."

Eddie grins, looks down at his feet and pushes away the tirade of 'oh my god, oh my god, it's happening.' in his mind. His voice comes out calm enough when he looks back up and leans against the wall opposite Steve.

"You've heard of me?" Eddie asks, voice laced with feigned surprise. He wonders if it's something they'll just skirt around, the clear signs that Mama Ricci wants more for them than just to meet and get along.

"Heard of you is one way of putting it. You've been her favorite sales pitch for like, months now." There's something like exasperation in Steve's tone, but it's exaggerated in a way that makes it playful.

"Trust me. I could say the same. " Eddie answers with a smile that touches on genuine. It shifts to teasing, tilting unevenly to one side in a half smirk as a memory slides to the forefront of his mind.

"Did you really crawl backward as a baby?"

And it's the right thing to ask because Steve stands up straighter, looking positively mortified as a faint flush reaches his ears. It shouldn't feel nearly as good as it does to finally pull a clear reaction out of the guy.

"Christ she told you that?" Steve groans, bringing his hands up to cover his face. Eddie laughs and he feels his nerves calm ever so slightly at the small but significant win.

"Amongst other things."

Steve drops his hands to his side instantly, seems to debate on something before letting out a tired huff. "Y'know what? I don't even wanna know."

And Eddie thinks that's where the conversation will end. They've met now, could probably move up to slightly longer hellos whenever he visits. That counts doe something.

He's pushing himself off the wall to reach for the door when Steve says. "You're nothing like I imagined."

Eddie retracts his hand, wills his heart to relax cause fuck they were still talking. Okay. That's cool. Still talking is good.

"Yeah? What were you imagining?"

Steve seems thoughtful as he crosses his arms across his chest, stature so solid that Eddie has to banish away all thoughts of breaking it down.

"I don't know. She described you like the picture perfect suburban husband. Tucked in shirt, tie, suitcase and everything." Eddie feels an eyebrow quirk, the word husband echoing into the air between them with a weight that makes him stare down at his feet again, heat spreading to his cheek because really, why'd Steve have to say it like that?

He hears Chrissy cackling at the back of his mind, mocking him yet again with a snarky 'I thought you were against the whole settling down bullshit.' which 'fuck you Chrissy', he'd kiss the guy senseless, doesn't mean he wants to marry him. Why is he even having this pointless mental argument again??

"Y'know, works hard but has a big heart, great with kids, always ready to help even when she asks him not to." Steve continues, checking each item off a finger as he recounts it. He's so casual too, as if every compliment doesn't punch at the part of Eddie that is shit at accepting it. "Caring, handsome, the day-to-day kinda superman yknow?"

"Handsome?" Eddie blurts before he can stop himself, having failed to remember that this was just the guy quoting his grandmother. There's a look of amusement on Steve's face, and when his neutral face shifts into a teasing smile Eddie wants to punch something. It has to be illegal to look that good.

"That's seriously all you got outta that?"

Fuck. Eddie curses internally, feels the corner of his confident mask twitch because there's only so much improv he can do, and he definitely did not rehearse for this shit.

He takes the easy way out by waving aside the comment, focuses on the crunch of gravel under his boots as he speaks.

"Well you're right. Wholesome as the description sounds, I'd probably break into hives if I get within a meter of a suit, much less a cubicle. Truly sorry to disappoint though." It's said as a joke, so Eddie doesn't expect the seriousness that settles on Steve's face. A second passes before the guy shrugs.

"I'm not"

Eddie frowns, isn't quite sure what the statement is supposed to mean.

"Disappointed I mean. I'm not disappointed."

And as Steve clarifies, those brown pools track up and down once, soaking in Eddie in a way that's a little too focused to be anything but intense. Something like understanding clicks into place and oh. Oh.

Eddie can feel his smile stretch on its own, knows for sure that he's safe to move in now, to push further. He's envisioning his next words already, something low and suggestive reaching the back of his throat as he takes a step forward.

There's a clack directly behind the door.

It's not loud but it's quiet enough in the back alley to reach their ears.

Both he and Steve snap their heads to the side, brows raising in mirrored surprise before dipping into confusion.

It's Steve who opens the door, and over his shoulder Eddie sees Max first. She's bent over slightly, observing an onion in her hand with too much interest as she..strokes it? Mrs. Mayfield is whisking in a bowl by her side, but Eddie's pretty sure there's nothing in it judging from the metallic sound it's making. And Mama Ricci herself, closest to the door and off to the opposite side, is squinting at her nailbed, but the angle of her body is just a little too awkward for the gesture to appear natural.

The weird moment is interrupted by Steve saying something in Italian. Something that makes Mama Ricci glare up instantly and forces Mrs. Mayfield to look away with shame. Max coughs and walks out of the room wordlessly.

Another second passes then Mama Ricci claps suddenly, sweet smile returning along with a chirpy tone.

"Thank you so much for your help Eddie." She says, entirely ignoring whatever the hell just happened. At his side, Eddie hears Steve scoff.

He's not dumb, Eddie knows they'd all been eavesdropping, watches as Mama Ricci easily lifts a box onto a kitchen counter, old bones seemingly forgotten.

It takes everything in him not to laugh, especially with how thoroughly embarrassed Steve looks staring blankly off into the distance with the reddest flush on his cheeks.

Eddie knows now that he might have a shot, so might as well end the guy's current suffering.

"No worries. I'll be on my way then."

Mama Ricci hugs him once, lets the gesture linger a little longer than usual. There's something like satisfaction on her face when she pulls away.

The moment he steps out of the kitchen, the Italian bickering erupts. Eddie wonders if they know curtains aren't doors, but either way feels completely elated.

He finds Max behind the counter, her old spot now occupied by a small group that's whispering quietly amongst themselves (probably the last customers of the day since they close in less than half an hour).

She gives him a knowing look but doesn't say anything, and when Eddie winks she simply rolls her eyes before turning back down to whatever she's doing on her phone.

Eddie can't help but notice the onion sitting awkwardly by her side, and it's the sight that finally does it for him.

Eddie's still laughing by the time he starts his van.

God he can't wait to tell Chrissy.

_________________________________________

Yeah yeah 3 parts turned into 4. But it's pretty much done so its definitely 4 parts I swear!!! I ended up tagging more people cause im a pushover like that (and yall were too sweet sjsj) but its on A03 now so if you want to be notifed when its updated just subscribe there. I really wont be tagging anyone new on the last part.

@maya-custodios-dionach @newtstabber @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @electrick-marionnett @trikigirl271 @yes-im-your-mom @justanothergirlwithobsessions @mars-the-witch @moviebuff90 @misguideadghosts @raisedbylibrarians @henderdads @gay-stranger-things @kozuuji @gregre369 @trikigirl271 @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @commonxsenss @m-owo-n @adaed5 @iwouldsail @original-cypher @estrellami-1 @punctualhowell @straight4joekeery

i couldn't see (you were always right beside me) | 13.5k

Three hours later Steve logged off to get ready for his shift at the hospital. He was several levels higher and had finished the quests in Darkshore with the help of Greyhawk. He also had a friend listed in his friends list. Greyhawk had said that being friends would let them be able to tell when the other was online so they could quest again. Steve really liked the sound of that. He didn’t have many friends his own age. He and Robin basically lived in each other’s pockets at work, but with Robin’s new girlfriend and their sleep schedules, they didn’t end up getting to hang out more than once a week. A new friend sounded really nice, especially given that it was unlikely he would ever get along with his neighbors. The only resident Steve’s age on this floor was the neighbor he hated and that was very unlikely to change anytime soon. OR Steve hated his neighbor. And then Dustin and the other kiddos left for college and Steve signed up for some online game called World of Warcraft. Which was how Steve met a Night Elf druid named Greyhawk.

Could you maybe reblog this post if you think respecting trans peoples' names and identities is a basic right and not a political opinion?

No pressure. Just seeking some validation of my sentiment. Due to some. people

where is the fake dating au where like Steve is like well Eddie couldn't have killed Chrissy because he was with me that night. we were together :) until he had to go home and find the body :) and everyone is like uh and he's like having sex btw :) and the cops are like yeah man. I fucking guess he was? bc who is going to fucking lie about being gay in hawkins indiana 1986

like just imagine fake dating to establish an alibi and also eddie was not consulted on this beforehand suddenly steve is in the interrogation room like its going to be okay baby I love you so much and eddie is like YEAH. COOL. what is happening rn