✨She/her. 32. Australian. Disaster Bi. Current fic ‘Always Been Cool’ (Twin Peaks AU)✨
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just realised i never posted any of the stuff i did for the alternative steddie dads au
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Wrestling is very gay
Eddie says he hates all sports but when he walks in on Steve watching a wrestling match, he’s mesmerized by it.
“Wrestling is gay Stevie”
“No it isn’t”
Eddie points at the screen “We literally did that move last night”
“No we didn- oh shit wrestling is gay.”
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title: “Never So Young As That”: 20 Years of the Boy with a Bat summary: It’s 2023, and The Shotguns’ Boy with a Bat has recently marked its 20th anniversary; Pitchfork looks back on an album about grief, growth, and never learning how to fall out of love. (a most remarkable thing article)
excerpt: Still, there was something of a live-wire edge to him, something stripped bare and electric, almost brittle with its intensity: a flame burning too hot and too bright to last. Many of his contemporaries didn’t; Levy himself very nearly didn’t, his career — and life — nearly cut short before it began.
But the man that stands is someone who gives the impression of someone who is, at long last, comfortable in his own skin: as a man, as an artist — as a husband.
The latter, of course, being unsurprising, given the amount of “Hollywood wifeguy” lists that Levy has topped since the term became en vogue. And even before that it was clear that Levy was singularly devoted to his partner — after all, this is the man who kicked off an epidemic of pearl clutching from concerned parents across America when he kissed him on live, nationally broadcasted television in 2004 and then proclaimed, “You’re the love of my fucking life. Thank you for never giving up on me either. I wrote six albums for you, and I will write you six more.” (And, of course, there is that alleged Getty ban.)
Levy is four albums into those final six, and honestly, as he leans into his husband’s space and, yes, is threatened with that wooden, marinara covered spoon, it does not appear that he’s slowing down anytime soon.
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
He’s staring at him.
Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.
The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.
“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.
“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.
“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”
“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”
Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”
“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”
Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.
Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”
Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”
Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”
Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”
Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”
He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”
“To- to prove you’re from the future?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”
He blinks. “What?”
Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”
Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”
Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”
“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.
A ring Eddie already has on his finger.
“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.
His hands start shaking.
“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”
“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.
“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect
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Eddie doesn't know he means it that way until Steve takes it that way.
The "God, i love you" that just slipped out one morning during a particularly heavenly breakfast of syrupy homemade pancakes after nightmares had driven them to an impromptu sleepover at Steve's McMansion.
He doesn't know he means it that way until Steve and his gigantic, beautiful, bulldozer of a heart takes it that way.
Until Steve's syrup sweet lips are on his and everything just kind of slots into place that yeah. Yeah he meant it that way. He'd always mean it that way. He'd be a complete fucking idiot if he didn't mean it that way.
Would it have been nice to be dating him first? Absolutely. But then Eddie's never done anything the right way round, has he?
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I was supposed to be finishing another picture this weekend, but I saw a post from @henderdads about Eddie becoming the basketball team mascot and my brain was possessed by the need to draw it lol.
(Also based on the addition from @steveshairychest here.)
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There You Are
Link to AO3
There’s certain things that are almost always the same.
His name is usually Eddie. Sometimes short for Edward, sometimes short for Edith, sometimes short for absolutely nothing at all. Even when his name isn’t anything like it at all, he finds a way to get the nickname Eddie. It’s the only one that ever feels right.
His name is usually Eddie, and Steve’s name is Steve.
The names are the same, and so are the people around them. Dustin, Nancy, Will, El, all of them. New faces, new relationships, new struggles, but the core of a person doesn’t change. Wayne told him once a few times ago that when someone is family, they’ll always be home. You never forget home.
Steve is Eddie’s home, so he spots the little things. The tiny details that lead him to Steve like the universe leaving crumbs for its favorite mouse.
Steve ends up surrounded by the kids. He has great hair. Robin is always at his side, no matter what.
But the most important thing is Eddie knows him.
From the first time their eyes meet, a part of Eddie’s soul settles. It’s instinctual, learned, familiar. He’s found Steve in this lifetime, and now is the fun part. The falling back in love. The learning each other again. Smoking in the back of vans, or battling in trenches, or brushing hands in a crowded ballroom.
Steve has fallen in love with Eddie in a thousand lifetimes, and Eddie has loved him just as much in each one.
And so when Eddie walks into his daughter Max's kindergarten class to pick her up and sees her skipping towards him holding hands with her teacher, he already knows. The teacher is a young man with soft black locks and honey eyes. He's giving Max all his attention, and when he smiles, his entire face lights up.
Eddie knows, and so he says what he says every time he's finally found his way back to his home.
"There you are,"
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KIKI DELIVERY SERVICE AU AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
When witches turn eighteen years old, it’s customary for them to be sent out into the world, to practice their magic and find their calling. So when Eddie Munson’s birthday passes in July, he packs a suitcase, says goodbye to his Uncle Wayne—the best garden witch in the tri-county area, ask anyone!—zips his cat into the neck of his leather jacket (whom he’d cleverly named Kitty when he was six years old), climbs on his broom, and sets off for the city on the coast.
Once he gets there, Eddie’s not entirely sure where to go. He’s never actually been to the city before, but he’d heard so many stories—from classmates and friends, from travelers passing through his small town who’d come searching for Wayne’s recipes, from the witches who returned after their year-long apprenticeships—that he’d known since he was thirteen that he had to see it for himself. He wanders the cobblestone streets with his broom and his bag and marvels at the crowds. He watches a magician perform on the street—doesn’t miss it when he slips a card up his sleeve or shifts a coin through his fingers, but it still makes him smile—before he stumbles onto a ‘help wanted’ sign in a shop window. Kitty lets out a tiny meow from where she’s tucked under Eddie’s chin, like she’s trying to get his attention. Eddie glances down at her and she shifts her gaze from his face to the sign and back again.
“Alright, I hear ya,” Eddie murmurs, grinning and cupping a hand over her head for a quick pet.
A tiny bell jingles overhead as Eddie pushes open the front door. Immediately, he’s met with the smell of baking bread and sugary frosting. He breathes deep, giving Kitty another pat on her head. He stands at the counter for a moment before a boy around his age appears from the back room.
“Hi, welcome to The Bakery. What can I help you with?” The boy is grinning wide, wiping his flour-covered hands on his apron. He’s got soft brown hair and eyes to match. Eddie meets his gaze and feels himself blush.
“Um, you have a ‘help wanted’ sign in your window?” Eddie hooks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at the sign.
“Oh! Yeah, we just put that up today actually. We’re looking for a delivery person,” the boy is still grinning, eyeing Eddie’s broom. “I’m Steve.” He holds out his hand over the counter for Eddie to shake.
“Eddie.” Steve’s hand is surprisingly soft when Eddie shakes it.
“The job comes with a room over the bakery, our hours are from 6am to 5pm every day but Thursday, and we’d like you to start immediately.”
“Oh, um. Just like that?”
Steve grins again. “I may not be smart, but even I know not to turn away a witch when one comes knocking.” He knocks his knuckles against the wooden counter and Eddie returns his smile. “Come on, I’ll show you the room.” Steve turns to head back the way he came and Eddie takes a moment to look down at Kitty. She blinks at him, all-knowing, and it makes Eddie blush again. He rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at her before following behind Steve.
He follows Steve out the bakery’s back door and up a set of wooden stairs that lead from the garden to a small deck, where Steve pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks one of the two doors. He gestures for Eddie to step through the doorway before following behind him.
“The room is furnished, there’s a small stove there in the corner with a sink and a washroom just over there,” Steve gestures to a door on the opposite wall from the tiny bed. “My apartment’s the next door over and I have a full kitchen, which you’re welcome to use if you need to. Here’s your key,” Steve drops the warm piece of metal into Eddie’s palm, “and I’ll have the spare key to my place and the bakery for you tomorrow. Make yourself at home and head down to the bakery tomorrow morning.” Steve pats him on the shoulder before heading back out of the tiny room and down into the bakery.
Eddie is left to do nothing but blink at the empty space Steve had left behind. He’s not entirely sure what just happened, but he’s pretty sure he’s landed both a job and a place to stay. Not bad for his first day in the city.
~*~
A year passes and Eddie is happy. He writes to Wayne and tells him all about Steve and the recipes he tries out in the bakery. Tells Wayne that he suspects that Steve might have some witch blood he doesn’t know about; the things he can do with buttercream are pure magic. Eddie visits Wayne once for his birthday—it’s a long way by broom—weighed down by pastries and cakes that Steve insists he take home with him.
Eddie starts to learn the landscape of the city, learns when to fly over the coastline and when to keep tight to the city streets. He makes his own posters, starts to do some deliveries after hours too, which leads him to meet all sorts of interesting people. He meets artists and performers, writers and teachers, even the man who services the big clock at the center of the city (which Eddie finds particularly impressive).
He spends time with Steve. Steve is funny and smart, despite what he’d said the first day Eddie had met him. He can cook, not just bake, and he insists that Eddie joins him for dinner at least three nights a week. At first, Eddie had tried to say no to Steve’s invitations, thinking that Steve was just being polite, but Steve had insisted and Eddie realized that Steve was actually pretty lonely. He wasn’t from the city and he didn’t have much family; he’d come here when his parents had died. He’d apprenticed with an older woman named Claudia, who’d left the bakery to him when she’d retired not too long ago. Steve’s eyes go soft whenever he mentions her. Her son, Dustin, still helps them around the bakery three days a week, counting down the days until he leaves for university (he only ever relays the amount of days and Eddie’s pretty bad at math, but by his count, Dustin’s still got about three years to go).
Steve also talks about his best friend, Robin, who’s away at art school. Steve is hoping when she comes back in the spring, she’ll work at the bakery decorating the cakes. Eddie’s surprised to learn that Robin is also a witch; he hadn’t known many witches to go to art school.
The year passes in dinners and picnics, in deliveries and odd jobs, and when spring is finally turning over into summer again, Robin arrives home to the bakery.
“Stevie!” A voice calls from the front of the shop, scratchy and warm, drowning out the jingle of the bell. Eddie is sat on the counter in the back room, completely entranced by the way Steve’s arm muscles jump under his skin as he kneads bread dough. He’s barely listening to some story Steve’s telling about something Dustin had done the other day.
Eddie watches as Steve stops what he’s doing completely. “Robbie?” A smile spreads across Steve’s face, quick and involuntary. He doesn’t even pause to wipe his hands before he’s rushing into the front of the shop. Eddie watches through the door as a pretty girl with short blond hair throws her arms around Steve’s neck. He lifts her off the ground, spinning her around, leaving flour fingerprints across the back of her navy t-shirt.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming today?” Steve asks when he’s finally returned her to an upright position on her own two feet.
“Because then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, dingus.” She pokes a finger into his ribs and he half-heartedly tries to shove her away.
Watching them, Eddie feels something tighten in his chest that he can’t quite explain. He knows this is Robin—he’s seen pictures of her before—knows she’s Steve’s best friend, but this is more than mere friendship. This is something else entirely. Something magic. Eddie’s a good witch. He knows true love when he sees it.
“You have to meet Eddie,” Steve says before calling through the doorway, “Eddie, come meet Robin!”
Eddie hops off the counter and does as he’s told.
~*~
A few weeks later, Eddie wakes with a pounding headache. There’s a breeze coming through his window off the coast and it makes him shiver. He coughs and looks around for Kitty, but she isn’t curled in her usual spot on his pillow. Eddie sniffles.
He pulls himself from his bed and feels dizzy. He washes his face and drinks some orange juice before he heads down to the bakery.
“Wow, you look awful,” Robin says by way of greeting. She grimaces as he comes through the doorway.
“Gee thanks,” Eddie grumbles half-heartedly in her direction. His voice sounds heavy and hoarse.
Steve crosses the room from where he stands in front of the ovens and presses the back of his hand to Eddie’s forehead. “Eddie, you’re burning up. You should go back to bed. I’ll bring you soup later.” He pushes Eddie in the direction of the back door.
“But the deliveries,” Eddie mumbles, eyes already half closing as he dreams of getting back into his sleep-warm bed.
Steve smiles softly. “Don’t worry. Robin and Dustin can handle it.” Eddie glances behind Steve at Robin, who nods at Eddie reassuringly.
“Okay.” Eddie’s voice is a whisper and then he’s stumbling back up the stairs and falling into his bed. He wonders again where Kitty’s run off to.
~*~
Eddie is in and out of consciousness for three days. He has strange dreams, some of them nightmares where monsters chase after him as he tries to fly away on his broom; others are about Steve and Robin and even Dustin, good dreams of the life he’s made here for himself.
Steve keeps his promise and brings him soup every day, helping Eddie sit up against his pillows and even helping Eddie spoon the broth into his mouth. Eddie thinks he maybe should be a little embarrassed about it, but it’s so nice and comforting that he can’t. It reminds him of home, of recipes from Wayne’s garden.
Robin comes to sit with him on the second night, stroking his hair and humming lullabies while he drifts off.
On the third day, when Eddie is starting to feel better, Kitty finally reappears. Eddie asks her where she’d run off to, but she doesn’t answer. She’s been keeping secrets lately.
~*~
After three days, Eddie finally returns to work. Steve gives him the first delivery, tells him Dustin and Robin can continue to help out, just for a few days, so Eddie doesn’t overexert himself. Eddie nods.
He ties the tiny pastry box to the handle of his broom and mounts it on the sidewalk outside. He kicks off from the cobblestones. Nothing happens. Flying had always come easily to Eddie. It was second nature to him, something he never really had to think about. Not all witches could fly, but Eddie can’t really remember a time when he couldn’t.
He tries to kick off from the sidewalk again. Again, nothing happens. Eddie can feel the panic rise in his chest. He swallows, tries again. Still nothing.
He hears himself let out a small whimper and he’s glad Steve’s gone back inside and can’t hear him. He glances through the shop window and sees Robin’s clever eyes watching him. She meets his gaze. He can see the naked concern there. He swallows again.
He climbs off the broom and unties the package. He carries both as he re-enters the bakery.
“Something’s wrong,” he says to Robin and Steve.
“What do you mean?” Steve asks coming out of the back room again.
“Dunno,” Eddie replies. “Broom’s broken or something. Can’t fly.” He shakes the broom in his hand.
“Does that happen?” Steve’s brow furrows. Eddie shrugs.
“Maybe you’re still sick,” Robin says. “You should go back to bed. Try again in a few days.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Eddie looks down at his feet. He passes the box to Robin and then decides she’s right. Decides he should go back to bed.
“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Steve says, reassuringly. “It’ll pass. Robin and Dustin can keep doing the deliveries for a little while.”
~*~
Eddie’s magic doesn’t come back. It’s not just the flying either. Kitty stays away longer. Eddie finds himself misunderstanding her more often than not. He keeps messing up simple cleaning spells and the easy home remedies he’s been brewing since before he can remember.
He takes his broom out every night and under the cover of darkness tries and tries and tries again. Sometimes he feels eyes watching him from Steve’s apartment, but when he glances up, all he can see is the flutter of curtains.
~*~
After three weeks of a miserable, magic-less existence, Robin knocks on the door of Eddie’s small room.
“Wanna talk?” She asks from the doorway.
Eddie considers saying no. Instead he nods and gestures toward his small kitchen table. She sits.
“I saw you practicing,” she says, diving right in.
“Yeah.” Eddie doesn’t try to deny it or even play dumb and ask what she means. She’s a witch. She’ll know. “Flying used to be like breathing. I didn’t even notice I was doing it half the time. Think I learned to fly before I could even walk. Now it’s all I think about. Feels like something’s missing now, like my lungs or, like, a part of my heart or something.”
Robin nods, knowing. “That happened to me, you know. Lost my magic. Felt like I lost an arm.”
Eddie swallows. “What helped get it back?”
“I met Steve,” she says softly, a fond smile playing around the corners of her lips. “I left home earlier than other witches. I never really fit in. I wanted to go to school. Didn’t know if I even wanted to practice my magic at all. My parents said if I stuck it out, I could leave when I was fourteen. So I did. I waited and counted the days and finally it was time. Spent a year in the city. I loved it. But then, one of my friends… something happened to her.” Robin looks sad and twists her fingers together, fidgeting. “She had to leave the city. When she left, I got really sick. Couldn’t do magic for almost a year.”
“A year?” Eddie asks, mouth hanging open. “I can’t not fly for a whole year.”
Robin hums. “You figure it out. You have to. Some days it’s more noticeable than others.”
“But you met Steve. And you got your magic back?” Eddie prompts.
“Yeah. It’s like that saying, you know the one? ‘True love makes the best magic.’” She says it like she’s said it a hundred thousand times before.
Eddie grumbles. “Don’t think I’m gonna fall in love and magically fix my flying problem.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I didn’t say anything about falling in love.” Robin smiles again, big and bright this time. “There’s more than one kind of true love.”
~*~
Eddie thinks about what Robin had said to him for days. He turns it over in his mind again and again and again.
He starts laying out treats for Kitty. He misses her. Even before he got sick and lost his magic, he’d started to leave her behind more and more on his deliveries. He’d realized he could fly faster without worrying about her falling from inside his jacket.
She’s hesitant, but she starts coming back more. When they sleep, she returns to her place on Eddie’s pillow and Eddie feels good with the soft, warm weight of her next to his head as he slowly drifts into sleep.
Before he’d gotten sick, he’d taken on too many deliveries. He’d stopped having time to chat with the customers, to hear the little stories of their lives, of cleaning the clock tower at the center of town or a new plot point one of the writers had just figured out. He’d missed hearing the explanations of what celebrations he was delivering cupcakes or tarts or heart-shaped cakes for. Delivering on foot gave him a lot more time to stop and watch the street performers, to help tourists with directions. On foot, Eddie began to appreciate the city again, like he had before, when he’d first gotten here. When it felt like he’d been dropped right into the center of a dream realized.
He starts having more dinners with Robin and Steve. He’d stopped doing it so much, not wanting to feel like a wonky third wheel. But they slot him in right next to them, right in the middle. They fill him in on inside jokes and old stories. Sometimes Dustin joins them and Eddie tells stories of Wayne and the strange people who used to appear on their doorstep in search of some of his magic.
Eddie starts to feel happy again.
~*~
A week after he talked to Robin, Eddie brings his broom out into the center of the street. It’s close to dusk, the sun low in the sky, and the bakery is closed for the day. Steve, Robin, and Dustin stand shoulder to shoulder on the sidewalk, waiting.
Eddie breathes deep. He swallows. Breathes again. And then he mounts his broom like he has a million times before. He grips the polished handle. He feels it thrum beneath his fingertips. He takes another deep breath, closes his eyes, and kicks off from the cobblestones.
There’s a strange sort of hush to the street. Eddie can’t tell if he’s in the air. He squints an eye open and sees Steve, Robin, and Dustin waving up at him. He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. He lets out a shout.
He does a few circles around, just above their heads, while they all scream and clap for him. Eddie can’t help but laugh. He’d missed this.
When he finally lands, they all rush to hug him. Dustin lets go first and then Steve.
Robin’s arms are still around him when she whispers into his ear, low enough so only he can hear it. “See? True love magic.” Eddie smiles again and gives her one last tight squeeze before letting go.
Dustin and Robin head back inside, leaving Steve and Eddie to stare at each other in the empty street. Steve is still grinning, his hands in his pocket.
“How’s it feel?” Steve nods toward the broom.
“Feels like breathing,” Eddie tells him, closing the space between them. Steve’s cheeks flush and Eddie doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick from Eddie’s gaze down to his lips and back again. Steve licks his own lips. “Feels like home.”
Steve is breathing a little harder now as Eddie continues to slowly close the distance between them.
“Feels like magic,” Eddie whispers, before he brushes his lips against Steve’s. He pulls back slightly. “Feels like love.” Steve’s hand comes up to curl around the back of Eddie’s neck, pulling Eddie in close for a real and proper kiss, right there in the empty street, under the setting sun.
(For @outpastthebrakers for commenting on the post where I mentioned this!!!! Warning: this was fully written under the influence of a sleeping pill in abt an hour and a half. Don’t hold that against me :P)
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I like inflicting my steddie brainrot on my buddies by identifying random shit I think would make good meet cute AUs and today I am now forcing ya'll to see my recent favs:
One) Eddie is covering for Argyle, who usually does the cake decorating at the little store they both work for.
Single Dad Steve orders a cake last minute and the result is:

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MAYA HAWKE photographed by Mikael Jansson for Numéro Netherland (2023)
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A rocky start












A wild Robin appears, Gareth meddles, Steve and Eddie’s talk doesn’t go as expected, the fans are impatient to know more.
Gareth the Matchmaker (2/?) - AO3 Prev
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Let me just say that Steve and Eddie’s discussion is supposed to be awkward and cringey, they’re both better in person than over chat ahah
Since I will put a lot of comments from fans, if you wanna be a part of this as a fan please let me know, I’d be happy to add you before making up fake fan accounts ❤️
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Different ways to follow this story:
Follow me | Turn the notifications on for this post | Subscribe on AO3 | Follow the tags #GTM updates #gareth the matchmaker | Check my pinned post
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steddie - tumblr posts [8/?] / memes [30/?]
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everyone needs to have gay sex and get multiple piercings. life is about getting past the horrors with penetration
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Goddddd I need stobin drag race night au.
thinking about teacher steve who loves his kids but thinks they’re incredibly stressful so he joins a rec league. they play on a friday night and the team always asks him if he’ll join them for beers afterwards.
but steve cites drag race night with his best friend every time. it takes until the time he’s first able to say yes to after game beers that it becomes clear he wasn’t late night motor racing.
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