#i love these two...sighs

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table. 

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent. 

It smelled mockingly delicious. 

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it. 

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he? 

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean. 

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead. 

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.” 

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--” 

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war. Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering. 

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies. 

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of said cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him. 

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway. 

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up. 

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation. 

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted. 

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!” 

(And he did say ‘Steve.’ 

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.) 

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies. 

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work.  “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.” 

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes. 

Eddie hated how good he looked too. 

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’ 

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl. 

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet. 

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over. 

(Their characters were dead too.) 

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.” 

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!” 

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table. 

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings. 

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales. 

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems. 

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy. 

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.  

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos. 

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to presumably another annoying woman; 

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!” 

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them. 

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sheer number of them. 

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both took a step back. “Come on, we need to get our gold!” 

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly. 

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process. 

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front. 

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP.  ) 

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.” 

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately. 

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper. 

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do. 

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.) 

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked. 

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit. 

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.” 

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible. 

Get him to help Harrington. 

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!” 

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly. 

“I’m supervising.” 

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it. 

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.” 

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour. 

xXx 

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington? 

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield in high school? 

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about his stupid eyes, he wasn't!) 

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making. 

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’ 

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’ 

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though. 

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while the King enjoyed the attention of the masses. 

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Harrington would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew. 

To defend his table, his club, his friends. 

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then. 

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood. 

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”  

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.” 

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear. 

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting; 

“How delightful. I--” 

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?” 

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again. 

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!? 

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking on the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s actually been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?” 

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror. 

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with. 

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return. 

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?” 

Eddie gaped. 

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

 “You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.” 

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy. 

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.) 

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.” 

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder. 

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.” 

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here. 

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys. 

In Eddie’s fucking place. 

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.  

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all. 

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done, as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.” 

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it. 

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of innervation.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice. 

Sonovabitch. 

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkin, Harrington and everyone. 

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even? 

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this? 

Been a douchebag asshole? 

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marking her as a member of the band kids who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier. 

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what he was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself right into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault. 

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall. 

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words. 

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway. 

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation if they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!” 

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?” 

“...I’m not following.” 

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly.  So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway. 

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth. 

“Not so loud, Steve!” 

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?” 

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--” 

“Robs, breathe.” 

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath. 

 It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear. 

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!” 

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"  

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots. 

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.) 

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out. 

You know, in a gay way. 

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of. 

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground. 

Eddie’s head exploded. 

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely. 

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!” 

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!” 

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?” 

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?” 

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high. 

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire. 

[ttpdjo]

♪ the more that you say the less i know, wherever you stray i follow, im begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans that's my man ♪

[diurnalvl]

seven years ago, they used to be friends. almost.

1 / 2 / ?

[the-chosen-half-of-one]

Is it really your favourite show if you’re not constantly warning your friends every second episode, “Okay, now this one’s kinda bad but—”

[buggachat]

do you ever just remember that the most “masculine”/boy-centric episode of ML was about all the boys in paris getting together and kissing each other and throwing rainbow confetti in the air and dancing to the Village People 

[whollyjoly]

i was viscerally reminded of backwards ball cap!buck in jinx (4x06) and this demanded to be made

[softiedingo]

these two took the 'look and smile so passionately at my friend while he's talking' thing really seriously, they're so gay for each other

[strawberryspence]

Listen, it’s been a hard few days.

From the day Eddie— his new friend— got pulled into this shit show called The Upside Down, to when he literally had to watch Max float into the air as the evil wizard from the other dimension tried to kill her from the inside. To today, in which Eddie’s in the hospital— after Steve miraculously carried him on his back to the hospital— and where Max is also in— broken and in a coma, but alive.

It’s natural to feel confused from fatigue and emotional distress. But this? Dustin doesn’t even know what to do with it.

It’s been a long morning. After a lot of suffocating, but well deserved, smothering from his mother, he then got another suffocating but again, well deserved smothering from Steve when he finally picked him up.

Steve looks tired, dark circles under his eyes, his hair is… a mess. It’s flat and not styled. It looks like he didn’t even go home? Did he stay by Eddie’s side the whole night? For someone who hates someone, that’s a lot of effort. Dustin opens his mouth to ask or investigate, but they arrive at the hospital in a record time. Steve probably ignored every street sign.

What Dustin doesn’t understand is why Eddie’s room is jam packed so early in the morning? In the room, there’s Erica, Lucas, Mike, Robin, Nancy and Wayne, Eddie’s Uncle. And now there’s him and Steve.

“Why are you all in here?!” Dustin asks the room. There’s too many people in the small hospital bedroom.

“The doctors said he’s waking up anytime soon.” Nancy informs him, not taking her eyes off Eddie.

“And you’re all here to just watch him?” Dustin pushes in distress, “You guys, we might overwhelm him when he wakes up. We should do it one at a time.”

“I am not leaving.” Erica voices out at the corner of the room.

“Guys.” Dustin says, his voice wavering with anxiety and worry. He meets Mr. Munson’s eyes, who softens at the expression on his face.

“It’s okay, kid.” Wayne rasps, “Eddie would love to wake up with everyone just watching him. Ya know how dramatic he is.”

This earns a few snickers and chuckles from them. Dustin looks around to see if Steve stayed, only to see him exiting the room with Robin. Robin’s softly rubbing his hand with her hands, like she’s comforting him. There’s a look on Steve’s face. It’s— concern? worry? But they’re already gone before Dustin can study it further.

After all of this, Dustin will put it on top priority to get those two together. Why they won’t just date, he never understood.

Eddie groans and silence overtakes the whole room. Dustin stares at him, quietly praying for his friend to finally wake up, for him to be okay. He just wants Eddie to be okay, he never intended for him to get dragged into this.

Eddie moans as he slowly moves, his eyes fluttering open and squinting at the bright light. Dustin can hear everybody holding their breath.

Eddie turns to Wayne. Stares at his Uncle for a second before he smiles. Suddenly, Dustin can finally breathe again. He watches as Eddie looks at every person in the room. Smiling and waving a small wave to everyone.

But his smile drops. Oh no.

“What’s wrong?” Dustin asks, as he moves closer to Eddie. The fear is already cruising through his veins.

Eddie turns to Nancy in alarm, “Steve?”

Nancy blinks back, confused, “What?”

He ignores the question. Turning to Wayne instead, “Wayne?”

Wayne nods, leaving a kiss on his head, “Calm down, boy. Give me a second.”

Wayne stands up and jogs out of the room.

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” Nancy asks, as Mike comes closer too. Dustin doesn’t know how to help but Eddie’s hand is shaking.

“We should call a doctor.” Lucas announces.

“No!” Eddie immediately answers, “No! I just want—“

The door springs open. It thuds against the wall with force. Steve moves closer to the bed, breathless as Robin and Wayne follow him in the room.

All the tension— They just— They just vanish from Eddie. He visibly melts into relief. His shoulders sagging in content, and he has this smile on his face. It’s… It’s a smile Dustin has never seen on his face. It’s small, but bright and full of adoration.

Eddie whispers something. Which Dustin thinks he hallucinates, or maybe he heard it wrong. But he turns to the others, and from the look on their faces he might’ve actually heard it right.

Eddie lifts his hand, beckoning Steve closer, and then he says it again, clearly and louder.

“Sweetheart.”

Steve blinks and in a surprising turn of events, he— he starts crying. Steve Harrington starts crying. Dustin didn't even see him cry after he was tortured by the Russians.

“You fucking idiot!” Steve glares at Eddie, “I told you not to be a hero! I told you not to be cute! I asked you for one thing! And you did it anyway! What if I didn’t get back in time? What if I wasn’t able to bring you to the hospital? You could’ve died! You almost died!”

Dustin gasps in anger. How could he do this? Eddie saved him! “Steve! Shut up!”

“No!” Steve turns to him. There’s tears streaming down his face. “This is between me and him.”

“Sweetheart.” Eddie calls out again, and his hand is still in the air waiting for— whatever he’s waiting for.

“I’m so sorry about him, Mr. Munson.” Dustin turns to Wayne, who shrugs at him. He looks entertained. Which is weird.

Steve sniffles, shaking his head, “No. Don’t sweetheart me, Edward fucking Munson.”

Eddie groans, “I did what I had to do.”

They stare at each other for a few more minutes as the room fills with uncomfortable silence.

“I am sorry.” Eddie finally whispers and Dustin wants to interrupt. He doesn’t have to apologize about anything. He did what he had to do.

Steve sniffles, “Good.”

Eddie does something he has never done in the entire time Dustin knows him.

Eddie (Edward apparently) Munson pouts.

“Now?” Eddie lifts up his hand again.

“Okay.” Steve whispers before…

Before intertwining their hands together. Steve sits on Eddie’s bedside, sweeping Eddie’s hair off his face. They’re acting like they’re the only people in this room. Maybe they think they are.

“I am glad you're okay, sweetheart.” Eddie says, a smile dancing on his face.

“Me? Of course, I am okay.” Steve replies. There’s a softness to his voice that Dustin’s never heard before. “Do you want me to call you a doctor, baby? Are you okay?”

“No, I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Just needed to know.” Eddie stares up at him, it comes out loopy but there’s a real spark of joy in his eyes.

Woah, alright. Steve moves closer and kisses Eddie— On the lips. Oh my god? Is Dustin dreaming? Is Vecna still alive and showing this to him?

“What the hell is happening?!” Mike demands, breaking the glass of peace they have, and making Steve pull away from Eddie immediately.

“Oh.” Steve breathes out. Like he’s just realizing that they were there. Dustin frowns as he sees Steve’s face contour from fear to sadness. Fear for what?

“Uh.” Steve stammers, looking back at Eddie who looks like he’s about to bite Mike on the arm.

“Steve and I are dating. Since the starcourt mall burned down.” Eddie finally explains, and Wayne immediately moves closer to them like— like he’s trying to protect Steve and Eddie. From what? From them? Instinctively, Robin moves to follow Wayne.

“Oh.” Someone says, maybe it was Nancy or maybe Mike.

Dustin blinks. He tries his best to absorb the news, but he can’t think straight with that devastated look on Steve’s face or that defensive look on Eddie’s. What’s wrong with them dating? Well, Dustin takes offense over the fact that Steve didn’t tell him but there’s nothing really wrong. Two boys—

Oh. Oh.

“Alright.” Dustin finally says, making everyone turn to him. He tries to make it sound as casual as possible, “Listen, congratulations. But I am angry that you both hid this from me.”

Lucas is nodding his head beside Dustin, “Dude. Really? Our dungeon master? Come on now, Steve. You could do better.” He teases, making Steve finally cough a tiny laugh.

Mike scoffs, “If there’s anyone that could do better, it would be Eddie. Really, Eddie? Steve? I can’t believe you fell for the Harrington Charm.”

Eddie sputters a response, but he’s too busy blushing to say anything.

“Instead of ice cream, I want insider information for the next campaign.” The room erupts into noises as Mike argues that Erica can’t do that, Eddie relaxes and says no one can have insider information. In the corner, Dustin sees Nancy hug Steve and say something into his ear.

Dustin lets his eyes wander and he meets Eddie’s eyes. Eddie smiles at him, nodding. It’s his way of thanking him.

They’ll talk later, and Eddie will get his own lecture from Dustin. Maybe a shovel talk for each of them. Not that they really need it, Steve looks at Eddie like he’s the creator of the universe and Eddie looks at Steve like he holds all the answers of the world. Perfect.

But he lets it be for now. Again, it’s been a hard few days. There’s nothing wrong with letting himself bask in this sliver of happiness and safety.

[leo-bandito]

#6.

[madamdionysia]

firm believer that yunho and or mingi get a kick out of seeing you stretched out — it plays with their size kink so much 🫠

my brain has short circuited everytime i rolled this ask around in my head, but heres what i got

cw: gn!reader, no pronouns, penetrative sex, unedited & mobile posted, tummy bulge, size kink, teasing, edging, fingering, implied poly!teez at the end for fun, double penetration, praise, maybe a hint of soft!dom,

edit 10/31/23: fixed like two mistakes, changed one word to make it gender neutral

fuck it so mingi is like fascinated when he first sees you stretched out on his cock, like he can’t believe that someone is capable of such. He’s both amazed and fucking proud when you take his cock, watching the bulge move with his hips. You have to snap him out of whatever trance he put himself in if you wanted any sort of progression

yunho on the other hand is more forward? Expressive? Very much the type to tease and edge as he tries to prepare you. I feel like his ego about it would come out a bit more during sex, sure he has to take longer to prep but this also means longer to scissor his fingers in you, longer to feel your ass, and longer to whisper things like “aw, is my dick really that big?” in effort to get you to admit that you needed help or wanted him to let you reach your peak. Seeing your skin flex and move even with his fingers has him rock hard, and he is so eager to see what you’re capable of.

As for them both, it’s a bit overwhelming being overstimulated on both cocks simultaneously. Yunho is slow, angling his hips to let his dick gently stroke your warm walls. Mingi is focused on the end, and Yunho is focused on the journey. Seeing both of them stretch you to the brim has Yunho’s knees turn to gelatin as he thinks “oh fuck thats hot”. And Mingi knows when he’s sheathed inside of you that he was never that tight for Yunho, and with the two of them buried inside of you as you moan for movement? Mingi’s brain becomes mush and he just wants to fuck the shit out of you. It’s Yunho that paces the situation, Mingi finishing all over his own stomach with a high pitched whine and you came all over Yunho’s cock.

[dollya-robinprotector]

The Chil[D]hood's End

[thasorns]

Next year... will I be the only one with feelings? Amane. Sorry! Forget what I just said. I didn't mean to rush you. Forget it. I won't forget. Today I want to answer you about the other day. I had something I wanted you to eat, but I didn't know how to reach out to you. So I didn't contact you. I want to see you.

KIMI TO NARA KOI WO SHITE MITE MO (2023) 君となら恋をしてみても, dir. Matsumoto Hana

[sporeclan]

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All grown up <3

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

His insurance premiums must be outrageous.

And pencils and inks!

[eggsploded]

gregsang just be two dudes fumbling

[stars-n-spice]

no you don't understand. I need the Bad Batch to have a happy ending. I need them all to make it out alive. I need them to all be together. I need them to be a family once again. I need them all alive, happy, healthy, thriving. I need them safe and healing and growing.

I need Hunter to be able to be at peace. To become what he so clearly wanted to be at the start of the series; a father. For him to have what he fought so hard for. To know that he's more than a soldier. I need him to be able to relax knowing his brothers, that Omega is safe and will forever be safe. I need need need him to have that peace. To have that kind of life. The life he didn't think he'd get, that no clone ever thought that they would get, but yet...And I need him to grow and learn from these mistakes and be that older brother for all of them I know he can be. Seeing him want a life different than what he was essentially made for that badly for him not to get it is going to absolutely destroy me.

I want Tech to come back. I want it so bad. I know Star Wars can't keep getting away with "killing a character and bringing them back" but what's doing it one more time? Am I biased because Tech is my second favorite Batcher? Yes. But listen, I just need him to return and be reunited with his family. I need him to see Crosshair again. I need him to see and be with Phee again. Yes the build up to his death was great and the send off with his goggles was, in my opinion beautiful, but I just really want him back. I miss him so much. He means so much to so many people and I just want to see him alive and well again.

I need Echo to come back and I need him to stay. Wrecker and Tech might be my favorites, but when it really comes down to it? Echo is my comfort character. When I'm upset and really struggling, what usually brings me back is thinking about what would Echo do? What would Echo say to me to get me through this? Echo means so so much to me and it hurts so much to see him reduced to a background character. It makes me think what even was the point of bring him back just to reduce him to what he is now? And I'm so so scared they're going to kill him off for shock value or to "explain" why he isn't with Rex in Rebels, but that's just so fucking stupid to me after having done nothing with his character since like the middle of season 2 of the Bad Batch. Bring him back, please. And let him be at peace for once too!! Goddammit, all this shit he's had to go through; getting fucking exploded, being a prisoner of war, losing Fives, losing his brothers because his chip malfunctioned, having to see what becomes of clones after everything they sacrificed for the galaxy-Like you already "killed". him off once, there's no need to do it again. Just bring him back and reunite him with the others, please.

I need Wrecker to get to have his family all together. On top of that, I need him to get the recognition he deserves for all that he does and has done. Omega might be the heart and soul of the team but Wrecker's the glue and arguably just as much as the heart and soul too. He's the protector, I'm sure he feels it's his responsibility to keep them together, to keep them safe. I want him to continue living his life knowing that he succeeded in doing so and now doesn't have to worry about something like that because they are safe. They're all together again and they're happy and they're safe. He can relax and enjoy what they used to have before it all went to shit. It's so obvious that he cares so much about his brothers and Omega in his own unique ways. Each of the members of the Batch have their own unique dynamics within each other, but it really seems like Wrecker is the one who has one with each of them. And yeah, he's my favorite so I'm going to be biased and I want him to make it out alive and I want him to be happy goddammit.

I need Crosshair to stay the fuck alive. I need him to continue to heal and grow and be back with his family again. I need him to be reassured and to feel safe and loved again. I cannot take another instance of a character who used to be so lost and broken finally getting healing and some peace only to sacrifice themselves again. To have someone go through so much only start to heal and then rip that away from them? I need him to be at peace. I need him to enjoy all that he's missed out on. I need to see him okay and content and healing and living. I don't think I can deal with seeing all of that being ripped away from him. Please just let the man be at peace for once in his fucking life. I am begging. You don't understand, he's healing; mentally, physically, he's getting better and to just,, take all of that away? Can't just ONE character please get a happy ending?? Like if any one of them deserve to see it through the end, it's him.

I need Omega to get the childhood she was cheated out of. I don't know how many times I've sat and thought about Omega only for me to burst out into tears. She's been isolated for nearly all of her life. At the most, she was free for two years out of her FOURTEEN years of existence. She went through ALL of that before the age Ashoka and Padmé were when they were just STARTING to go through the horrors. Yet she's remained so brave and so strong and so determined. She's endured and survived and I want her to thrive. I want her to have all her brothers together once again. I want her to grow up alongside them. I want her to be able to be a child for once. To experience life through those lenses. I don't want her to have to endure another loss.

I need to see this group of individuals who never really fit in have their place in the galaxy. I need to see them, all created with clear intents and purposes to fight in a war as cannon fodder find new purposes. I need to see these burnt-out kids catch a damn break for once. This family of neurodivergents who spent their entire lives either isolated or distant from everyone else because they were "different" and "special" get that well-deserved ending where they're all safe and happy and have a purpose and a place in the galaxy because fucking hell. I wanna know there's hope for me too.

just AAGUUHHH. I've never wanted a happy ending for anyone more than I want it for the Bad Batch.