#insomniac steve

[stranger-rants]

After he’s released from the hospital, Billy spends a lot of time sleeping. He falls asleep easily during the day, and he only wakes in the middle of the night if his pain medication has worn out. Steve can tell when that happens because Billy will start whimpering, especially after trying to get himself up to take more pain medication. That’s when Steve will turn on a light to go grab his bottle of pills and a glass of water. He’ll help Billy sit up and fluff up Billy’s pillow while he’s at it. Then as soon as Billy’s medicated and tucked in, he’s out like the bedside lamp Steve turns off next to him. The problem is that Steve is not great at falling back asleep once he’s awake. He can’t resent Billy for needing it, but he’s exhausted, too, and he’s got to get up early to bring Robin to school and get to work and- and-!

It just never ends, and Steve finds himself awake all night until dawn. When he gets home from work the next day, Billy asks if he can sit with him on the couch. Steve sighs. He’s got dinner to prepare. He should probably do some laundry. But Billy’s got this soft look on his face and he can’t say no to that. Steve sits down next to Billy, the TV at a low volume, and Billy leans his whole body weight on Steve’s shoulder. The quiet inhale exhale and rise and fall of Billy chest signifies that he’s fallen asleep again. Steve shifts so they’re a bit more comfortable, laying himself down with Billy on top of him like a weighted blanket. Steve tries to think about what it is he had to do before he sat down, but nothing comes to mind. His eyelids feel heavy and Billy feels warm and Steve feels himself drift off.

It would make quite a cute photo, which is exactly what Robin says to Jonathan when he joins her and Nancy in dropping off food to Steve and Billy’s apartment. Robin has a spare key, and they periodically do this as a thank you for saving our lives kind of thing for Billy and a please slow down and take care of yourself thing for Steve. Jonathan does snap a photo before they leave after much begging from the girls, hoping neither Billy nor Steve get too upset by it. Months later they get a copy of the photo for their anniversary - Sleeping Beauties ‘86. In it, Steve’s drooling and Billy’s face is smooshed against Steve’s chest. It’s embarrassing but sweet, and Steve will treasure it as a reminder of the best nap he ever had.

[livwritesstuff]

Not a steddie!dads post believe it or not, but I was thinking about how S1-Steve conks the fuck out after sleeping w/Nancy (which was.......an interesting choice imo) but it got me thinking about what would happen if the same thing happened with Eddie.

Like, all the Upside Down shit is done and they're all healed up and, after pining for each other for ages, Steve and Eddie finally hook up.

It definitely wasn't a gooey, sappy, romantic love confession type of situation, more like the natural culmination of several agonizing months of sexual tension and trying to feel out what the other might be thinking and a pretty aggressive campaign of flirting on Eddie's part that he's certain Steve was matching him on toe-to-toe for at least most of and being badgered by their friends to pull their respective heads out of their respective asses — a glorified hook-up, really.

Yeah, there might have been an undercurrent of more in the way Steve had threaded their fingers together and the way he'd looked at him with those gorgeous hazel eyes of his and the way he'd kissed him like it fucking meant something, but there hadn't been a lot of words.

Eddie's a words kind of guy, believe it or not, and he'd really like to be looped into whatever the hell is going on inside Steve's perplexing brain, thanks, but no.

Instead, afterwards Steve had pulled Eddie into his arms, twined them tight around his waist and tangled their legs together and tucked his face into the curve of Eddie's shoulder, and that was...new, but in a matter of minutes he'd started softly snoring, and that — dozing off after a hook-up so the other can make a discreet exit — is a move Eddie knows intimately, not that knowing it makes it sting any less, because Eddie had thought Steve might be more, that this thing roiling beneath the surface of their friendship could be more than just a one-time thing.

It's actually kind of fucking horseshit, actually, that Steve is expecting Eddie to just leave like this had been nothing more than a chance to get laid, because Eddie knows it's more than that — not because he has good self-esteem or whatever, but because it's so obviously more than that.

The whole thing actually kind of bothers Eddie, and he's always been a petulant shit about things that bother him and he'd never cared too much about doing what he's "supposed to", or whatever, so...fuck it. He's tired and this rich-people mattress is way more comfortable than anything Eddie had slept on before, and Steve needs to grow a pair and face the music of this shit in the morning.

So instead of sliding out of Steve's grip like everyone who came before him, Eddie settles in and forces himself to fall asleep too.

[8em-em-em8]

What about an Eddie who doesn't sleep? Not because of the upside down but because he was already insomniac before all that shit happened? What if it's how he became such a good DM? Writing every little detail of his campaigns, rehearsing in low voices for hours on end because he can't sleep anyway? And he always functioned like that, with 4 to 6 hours of sleep each night, so no one really can tell when the nightmares start after the upside down.

And maybe he gets invited to sleepovers at Steve because on the the fruity4 notices anyway, or maybe they just trauma bonded so the others simply want him there, and he finds out that, cuddled in between Steve and Robin, he gets to actually /sleep/. As in 8, 9, sometimes even 10 hours.

And the kids, who don't know anything about his sleep schedule, are soo thrown off by this well rested Eddie. He's not as loud, not as tense, not as chatty, not as anxious, and they get worried.

I just think it would be funny to have the Party calling Steve and Robin for help because Eddie ''is not himself anymore'' when the guy never felt better.

[soupinaboot]

Fuck it. Every Steve Harrington headcannon I have because I've been rotating that boy in my head like a pig on a stick Part 2 this is a little more in depth than the first one but only by a smug

- Epileptic, either since he was young or developed it over time due to all those concussions he keeps getting

- Favorite fruit is blackberries I have no reason

- Kinda sad but he never really had friends, yeah he hung out with Tommy and Carol but that was about it. Like after the fall out with them he was by himself, alone. I feel like if he was as popular as we think he is, he would have at least one other friend right?

- Does not have a filter at all. That one scene where he just casually says, "Oh yeah my parents are out of town because my mom doesn't trust him to not cheat on her any who!" and I feel like he just kinda does that

- Star Trek fan but he just does not comprehend that it's supposed to be nerdy (this is not my own I saw someone else headcannon this please tell me if you find them I can not)

- Absolutely sucked at ELA, could be cause of dyslexia or not whatever you want buttercup

- But on the topic of dyslexia, this headcannon is one of the main reasons why I love math nerd Stevie so much. Like, ELA test and History test are mostly long paragraphs that he needs more time to read through and his teachers don't care enough to give him extra time like he needs. But math tests tend to have a small paragraph that he can read faster or just focus on the numbers and finish on time, so he just got really good at math so he would have at least one class he passed

- Survives off of coffee, lord knows he needs it

- My most random headcannon is that since his parents were never really around or cared much for his safety, he used to hang out outside a lot and explore the wildlife around, got really into nature and animals, bought nature books etc. But his dad told him nature and animals were girly and forced him to stop even though he really loved it

- If he does ever go to college (which he doesn't have to, though if Robin went he would probably go with her), he would either get in education major and become a math teacher or some form of environmental degree

- His love language is quality time

- Among the three of them, Steve and Carol were the closest. Yes, Steve and Tommy met first, and yes they tend to call each other their best friends, but in actuality Carol and Steve were best friends. They have mean girl energy.

- He used to also play hockey when he was younger but stopped playing due to scheduling and shit. But he really liked it cause whenever he would practice there were these older figure skaters who would teach him figure skating (he kinda liked it more than hockey but he never told anyone)

- Speaking of scheduling, he is always tired due to his packed schedule. Since he was young, his dad forced him into a lot of sports and didn't really give him a break. Add that to his piano lessons, his jobs, studying that his dad forced him to do, friends, etc... he is just perpetually tired. And it fucked up his sleep schedule developing into insomnia as he got older

- Most of his and Eddie's dates are just them taking naps

- Once he meets Corroded Coffin they all become best friends. Like best fucking friends

- Specifically Steve and Jeff

[princenotsocharming]

More WIPs.. These two were originally drawn for different pieces, but looking at them now, I think they actually make a pretty good pair

[flowercrowngods]

*checks time* a prompt for you. eddie's insomnia versus steve the human weighted blanket. 🥺

in which Eddie hasn’t slept in days and feels like he’s losing his mind. fairy lights, music, and Steve lying down on top of him with promises whispered into his skin are what saves him | cw: gets pretty heavy on the insomnia | 2.8k

Eddie doesn’t sleep. Hasn’t slept in a while. He knows it must have been two days. Maybe three. And before that it’s always just been one lucky hour, maybe two, his body collapsing into blissful darkness before black turns red and he’s back in the Upside down, before silence turns into Chrissy screaming at him, for him, because of him.

Eddie doesn’t sleep. And it’s starting to show. His movements are slow, thinking and speaking takes way longer than it used to, than it should, and everything is dulled. Sometimes he hears voices where there are none, sometimes he misses words directed at him before one of the shrimps call for his attention again, annoyed and only a little worried. Only a little, because Eddie is quirky, Eddie is dramatic, Eddie is like that, right? Right?

Wrong. Eddie is just tired. His hands won’t stop shaking, his mouth won’t stop talking, his thoughts won’t stop running. It doesn’t even feel like he’s in control of himself anymore, and it’s beginning to be real scary.

But even when he thinks, screw the nightmares, I just want some sleep, rest won’t find him. The constant thrum of anxiety keeps it all away and he’s starting to get frustrated, angry, desperate.

He just wants to sleep. Please. The laundry already starts talking to him, and he doesn’t remember hanging it up, and almost panics when it’s gone.

This is fine. It’s all fine. His joints ache, his scars itch, sometimes smiling hurts, but it’s all fine. He just needs sleep.

It all comes to a head when he’s hosting Hellfire for the kids two weeks since his last full night of sleep — and a full night is being generous, because his standards have gone so low as to that meaning he got five hours of almost uninterrupted sleep. Magically, the kids don’t really suspect anything, don’t even notice the bags under Eddie’s eyes or find their own completely misguided whiz kid explanations for it without so much as asking how he’s been doing. Part of him is glad, because they shouldn’t know, shouldn’t worry, shouldn’t see.

It also helps that even complete and utter sleep deprivation can’t ruin Eddie’s Dungeon Master headspace — and so what if the traitorous elf that asked the kids for help sounds a bit like the angry cabinet door he left open all day yesterday because he always forgot to close it? That’s between Eddie and his mind that he’s absolutely been losing.

Everything goes by without a hitch, the kids busy discussing each other’s moves and yelling and hollering, than watching Eddie massage his temples one, two, three times.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. Except his skin has started tingling three hours ago and he knows he shouldn’t drive the kids home, knows he shouldn’t even be hosting them in this state, but he can’t… He can’t let the Upside Down win.

They didn’t get him with red lightning and murderous bats, and now they won’t get him with nightmares or the lack of sleep.

Maybe he’s been cursed. What if he’s cursed? Fuck, what if he’s actually been cursed to die the slow, agonising death that Dustin gave Mike’s character in the one shot he hosted last week, his brain rotting inside his skull and the cure just out of reach, so close but so far? Is that possible? Is that a thing? It sure feels like it, and—

“Eddie?”

Wait.

Steve? Why’s Steve asking for him, calling his name, where is he?

Eddie blinks. And blinks again. Only to find himself in the living room, a shaking hand pressing the telephone to his ear.

He’s been calling Steve. He does not remember. Panic is building inside him and he swallows it down.

I’m not going crazy. I’m not going crazy. I just need to sleep.

“Eds? You there?”

“Yeah, man,” he says, his voice too shaky, not at all sounding like him, and he wonders if someone’s taking over his body. If Vecna is back. If he’s been possessed. Fuck, he might really he possessed, and he shouldn’t be calling Steve, he should keep them all safe, he should—

“What’s up?” Steve asks then, and Eddie sort of never wants him to stop talking, because his head is quiet when he does. Keep talking, Stevie. Please tell me I’m not going crazy. Tell me I’m not cursed. “You okay? Are the kids still there?”

After a moment Eddie finds his breath and his voice, hoping it sounds more like him now. “Yeah, actually, I was wondering if you could come pick them up around nine-ish? I’m not…” okay, he wants to say, but doesn’t. “I can’t really drive. Today.”

There’s a bit of rustling on the other end of the line and Eddie listens, because listening to Steve, to his voice and his movements, is easier than listening to all the things inside his house that suddenly have a voice now.

“Sure,” Steve says. “Yeah, I can come pick them up, no problem. You okay, though? Do you need anything? I can come over sooner if you want, grab them and end Hellfire early. Just say the word, okay?”

Despite himself, Eddie scoffs. “End Hellfire early? Peasant. Heathen! Heretic!”

And Steve just laughs that soft little laugh of his and Eddie listens like his life depends on it.

“Alright, Munson, you little shit, I’ll be there at nine. I’ll just do two rounds, grab you, Dustin and Will on the second one, yeah?”

“Sure, whatever,” Eddie says. Then Steve’s words process and he asks, “Wait, me?”

“Yes, you. I’m not leaving you alone when you sound like… Like you could really use a hug but don’t wanna ask for it, alright? Trust me, I know all about how that sounds. And you don’t gotta be alone, okay? We can just hang out here, don’t even have to talk, just listen to some music or whatever.”

And Eddie doesn’t know what to say. It’s not the sleep deprivation this time, though, it’s Steve Harrington and the way he always seems to know when something’s up. Maybe Eddie’s voice really didn’t sound like him just now, or maybe Steve is just really fucking perceptive and sweet like that.

“The things you listen to are hardly music, Stevie.” That’s all he says. All he can say without breaking into tears, because hanging out with Steve outside of these walls that mock him, laugh at him, talk with him, sounds exactly like what he needs right now.

Well, what he needs is sleep, but Steve feels like second best. And isn’t that something he never expected to feel.

“Shut up, Munson,” Steve laughs, and it’s soft, soft, soft. “But that’s not a no. So I guess I’ll see you then.”

**

Just as promised, Steve is there at exactly 9:00pm. Not one minute early, not one second late. Eddie scoffs and shakes his head as he jogs to the front door.

And maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but Steve looks really fucking pretty with that smug half smile and another stupid polo shirt under his grey jacket. Eddie swallows. It’s probably the sleep deprivation. It definitely is. Because suddenly he wants nothing more than for Steve to come and hug him.

Sleep, hug, hang out. That’s his list now. It’s growing.

He obsesses over that while Steve brings Lucas, Erica and Mike home. Dustin and Will are talking strategies and Eddie busies himself cleaning up, sorting his notes and carefully storing his Hellfire stuff in the little cabinet unter his desk.

When he’s done, because maybe this took longer than it should have after he forgot what he was about to do a grand total of three times, Steve’s just pulling up to come get them for the second round.

Eddie grabs a bag with a change of clothes, a notebook because he doesn’t expect to find any sleep anyway and he wants to keep himself busy with something, even though writing takes precious brain power he’s going to be lacking for basic things such as making himself breakfast or remembering to get into the house when he’s standing by the front door.

Not like that has happened before. More than once, that is.

With his bag packed, he goes to grab Will and Dustin and together they head out to where Steve’s waiting outside his car, just leaning against it like he’s the goddamn protagonist of some shitty movie. Maybe he’s seen too many of those. Maybe Steve should stop working at Family Video, the movies are a bad influence apparently.

The car ride is blessedly silent, the only noise being the quiet music coming from the radio, and Eddie closes his eyes as he lets street lights wash over him. In the back, Will and Dustin do the same. Everyone’s tired after Hellfire, Eddie knows. Sometimes he catches Steve smiling when he comments on how he hates driving the kids home after their sessions because they always manage to fall asleep on the short ride home and he gets to be the asshole that wakes them up.

Eyes closed, the vision of Steve’s fond smile and faux exasperation in his mind’s eye, Eddie smiles. It’s only when the constant, pleasant rumble of the engine stops and the world is cast in absolute silence, that he opens his eyes. Steve’s watching him, but instead of that smile Eddie’s been dreaming of, there’s a worried expression waiting for him.

“You look like shit,” Steve says so, so quietly, and Eddie sags into the seat, twisting around to face Steve completely as he loses every ounce of fight left in him.

“Can’t sleep,” he says, rasps, whispers.

Steve just looks at him. He’s always looking, always seeing. “Nightmares?”

Eddie shakes his head, plays with one of the loose threads where his jeans are ripped at the knees. “Not even nightmares, just… Insomnia, Nancy called it. I love how she has a fancy word for everything.”

“Shit, man. I’m sorry.” Steve sounds like he means it, and Eddie wants to wrap himself up in that. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Tell me I’m not going crazy?” The words leave his mouth before he can hold them back and Eddie hates how small he sounds, how scared, how tired.

But Steve, oh, Steve, he’s not small or scared or tired. He’s none of that. He’s not weak like Eddie, because after looking for five, six, seven seconds, Steve turns to open his door and gets out of the car. Eddie’s heart sinks and he rubs at his eyes — his dry, aching, burning eyes, protesting at never getting to close anymore.

Then the front passenger door opens and Steve is there, kneeling beside him, taking Eddie’s hands from his eyes and holding them in his own.

“You’re not going crazy, Eddie. I promise you, you’re not going crazy.”

Eddie doesn’t look at Steve, can’t possibly meet the eyes that belong to this incredibly sincere and kind voice. He keeps his eyes on the dashboard instead, watching as the unmoving shadow of a tree morphs into different shapes right before his eyes, his mind playing tricks on him without hiding it anymore.

“Sure feels like it, though,” he whispers. Or he thinks he does. He’s not so sure anymore, watching the one shadow become two, then three. He closes his eyes, clenches them shut like it would make all his problems disappear.

Maybe it does, because like this, there’s only Steve’s voice as he’s talking so gently, so quietly, so unlike anything and everything Eddie has ever known.

The words don’t really register, but one moment Eddie is sitting in the car, the next he’s standing, and it’s warm and it smells like Steve and— oh. They’re hugging. Steve is hugging him. Holding him. Talking still like he knows Eddie needs it, like he knows the world will fade and shift and morph if he doesn’t, like he wants nothing more than to talk Eddie down from this brink of madness.

Then there’s a hand in his and the air is cold again, but it’s fine because there’s a hand and its guiding, holding, soothing.

A door falls closed, a lock clicks, and the hand is still there.

They’re in Steve’s house. Then in Steve’s room. And then there’s music. The hand is gone, and Eddie blinks, his eyes aching, so dry and tired and angry him.

Steve gently, so very gently pushes him to sit down on his bed, but Eddie doesn’t have the strength to sit, so he falls backward until he’s lying on Steve’s bed. It’s soft, comfortable. There’s a string of lights on the wall behind his headboard casting the room in warm light, and Eddie wonders if it’s Christmas soon.

It’s not. It’s August.

It doesn’t make sense.

But they’re pretty.

Eddie is only staring for a while while Steve is off doing something or other, and then he’s back in Eddie’s line of sight.

“Can I try something?”

Eddie just stares.

“It’s absolutely cool if you don’t want to, man, but I do this with Robbie sometimes when she can’t sleep. It doesnt work on me this way around, I always have to be on top, I hate having something on my chest, but—“

“Stevie, I have very limited brain capacity right now.”

“Right, sorry,” he laughs sheepishly and then rests one knee on the mattress. That’s when it hits Eddie that he’s lying in Steve Haddington’s bed, and that aforementioned Steve Harrington has nothing better to do about it than to fucking smile at him.

“Tell me if it’s bad. Seriously, tell me. Uncomfortable, bad, panic-inducing or just plain wrong, yeah? Tell me.”

And Eddie doesn’t understand what on Earth he’s supposed to tell Steve, when…

Steve’s lying down on top of him. They’re touching from knee to shoulder, Steve’s head landing on his collarbone. He’s warm. He’s heavy, and for a second Eddie can’t breathe and it’s too much, his lungs can’t fill, he can’t—

“Breathe, Eddie.”

And he does. And it’s the easiest breath he took all day. He takes another. And another. And all of them smell of Steve, all of them are warm, all of them a promise that he’s not losing his mind or his sanity. His heart, possibly, but that’s a problem for a different day.

“Better?” Steve asks, his breath leaving goosebumps on Eddie’s skin.

He nods. His hands coming up to wrap around Steve because part of him is still scared that this is a dream, a hallucination, or that Steve will decide it’s enough, he can leave Eddie to his business of losing his mind again.

But Steve’s not going anywhere. He shifts, getting comfortable on top of Eddie and promises into the skin of his throat, “I’m not going anywhere, Eddie. I’ve got you and you’re safe. Close your eyes for me, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And, miraculously, Eddie believes him. The weight of Steve on top of him, his promise now eternalised in Eddie’s skin, and the quiet tunes coming from the record player take him where he hasn’t been in far too long.

He doesn’t even have the time to think about the way his past self would scoff at him for letting Steve Harrington lie down on him like this. For holding him close.

There’s only Steve who keeps him safe from the brink of insanity and guides him to a much gentler, warmer, kinder place. It’s a bit like insanity, actually, but at least here there’s someone to take his hand and hold it.

The last thought that crosses his mind is the list he made earlier. Sleep, hug, hang out.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

**

This quickly turns into the only way Eddie can fall asleep, and he’s embarrassed about it at first. Feels like a burden and doesn’t ask for it, spends most nights alone and with the resolution that he just won’t sleep. But Steve finds out and makes him come over again or just kidnaps him in broad daylight.

Every night they spend like this, Steve promises the same thing. “I’m not going anywhere, Eddie. I’ve got you and you’re safe. Close your eyes for me, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Every night they spend like this, Eddie believes him as he winds his arms around Steve in turn and holds him.

And then, over time, words whispered into skin turn into the tentative press of lips there. They turn into kisses, into more promises, declarations, pleas.

Some nights turn into most nights, into every night, and Eddie doesn’t lose his sleep again, not like that. Sometimes it’s Steve who wakes up from a nightmare but Eddie is there to soothe him, to make promises of his own and to hold him until he’s asleep again.

They make it work. And somewhere along the way, somewhere between sleep and promises, underneath the fairy lights Steve never takes down, they fall in love.

It’s a different kind of insanity, and one that Eddie never wants to run from.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Everyone's A Critic

"What...the fuck."

Eddie's disheveled head peeked into the bathroom where Steve was staring at his reflection. "You called?"

Steve still didn't turn back to him, but his posture was rigid. Dangerous. "Oh I sure did, Munson. Pray tell me. What did you do last night?"

Eddie snuck behind him, circling his waist. He buried his nose into Steve's hair and pressed a small kiss there. "What didn't I do, sweetheart," he purred.

"So," continued Steve, meeting his eyes in the mirror, "when you said I should smile more because I look pretty..."

"I sure meant it," nodded Eddie, still wrapped around Steve's shoulders like a backpack.

Steve growled in frustration, but didn't move to shake Eddie off. "Okay. I don't know if I should be mad or impressed."

Eddie grinned against the nape of his neck and reached forward, stroked Steve's throat with fingertips. "Impressed. Definitely impressed." He moved his hand upward, pinched Steve's cheek. "Come on, love. Turn that frown upside down."

That finally broke through Steve's frown and he chuckled, covering Eddie's hand with his. "How did you even do that? It was dark."

"With sheer dedication and trial and error," snickered Eddie and moved their hands to the side, revealing Steve's throat. It was covered in hickeys, not unusual in these days, but these weren't random. They were organized into a crooked smiley face. "Come on. Admit it, you're impressed."

They were both laughing now, barely holding themselves up. "It's even worse than the stuff I used to draw as a kid, and that's saying something!" Steve wheezed out.

"Oh baby." Eddie leaned in and bit his earlobe, earning him another snort of laughter. "Don't you know art is in the eye of the beholder?"

Steve turned around and trapped Eddie in a loose embrace, his hands settling on Eddie's hips. "Well, I'm the beholder and I'd like to tell you, no offense and all, that your artistic technique feels better than it looks."

"No offense taken, but here's where you're wrong, Stevie," noted Eddie and leaned down to kiss over the bruised flesh. "You're not the beholder. You, my dear Steve Harrington, are my canvas."

[readysteddiewoe]

Made With Love

Steddie TikTok au: Part 2

Read Part 1 << here

———

Steve_the_Hair posted 2 mins ago

—

The video starts with Eddie Munson sitting inside a grocery cart being pushed by Robin Buckley who waves at the camera enthusiastically.

“I’m back," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. "Since you guys loved me so much last time— ack!" A packet of pasta smacks the side of his head. Eddie glares at someone off camera.

“Cart’s for food only,”

“I’m a fucking snack, Harrington,”

—

Steve and Robin are engaged in an intense match of rock paper scissors in the dairy and frozen section. Robin wins.

“Best of three,” Steve insists, making Robin rolls her eyes.

“Sore loser,” Eddie comments from behind the camera. They ignore him.

Robin wins again. The camera goes back and forth between Steve sinking to his knees in despair and Robin taking a victory lap across the aisle. She grabs a huge tub of ice cream and shakes it at the camera happily before dropping it in the cart Eddie is still sitting in.

—

The camera is badly hidden behind a shelf, recording Steve as he picks out tomatoes a few feet ahead. Eddie narrates in a terrible posh accent.

"Here you can see a wild Harrington alone in its natural habitat—"

Steve swivels around and Eddie scrambles back behind the shelf, breathing heavily. “Do you think it saw us?”

“You know I can hear you right?”

—

It's after dark. The three of them are in a mostly empty parking lot. Robin and Steve facing away from the camera, Robin mimes lifting something about her head with both hands and Steve is nodding along.

Eddie is recording once again, far enough that the camera doesn't pick up their conversation. "One way to make Robin and Steve do absolutely anything you want, is to add 'I bet you can't' before any sentence,"

Robin is running towards Steve who braces himself for impact. He grabs her by the hips when she's near enough and for one glorious moment, Robin is soaring. Eddie whoops in excitement.

Then she's tipping over, limbs flailing. "Oh shit," Eddie runs over to them, the recording too shaky to make anything out. The video comes back into focus and they're both on the ground clutching their stomachs and cackling.

—

Steve finally has the camera and he props it up on the car's dashboard. They're parked in their driveway, Steve in the driver seat, Robin passed out with her head thrown back in the passenger seat and Eddie laid out across the backseat.

The video cuts to him slowly lifting Robin to bring her inside, careful not to wake her up. Robin latches onto him like they've done this a hundred times before.

Then Steve comes back for Eddie. "Munson, get up," From the gap between the two front seats, only Eddie's arms are visible as he makes grabby hands at Steve. He sighs heavily. Then Steve's grabbing his arms and tossing a giggling Eddie over his shoulder.

—

The camera is balanced on the dining table as Steve puts away their groceries. Once he's done, he drags up a chair and sits facing the camera.

"Sorry it wasn't anything helpful today," Steve's visibly tired but smiling. "I wasn't allowed custody of the camera,"

He finger waves at the camera. "Goodnight, guys,"

—

The caption says, pro tip: get better friends

—

Comments

Corroded Coffin: clearly Robin is the favorite child

Dustin H: petition to make Eddie the camera man for this account forever

user 80085: Steve is never beating the boyfriend allegations

———

Part 3

[thegoblinboy]

Oh my god, I’m like so stressed but of course I decide to start writing something else while In the midst of writing something else. 🙄 so have a bit of venom steve with spiderman eddie. Promise that Never Say Die will be updated tomorrow after I get out of school (:

Eddies fingers stuck to the ceiling, somehow holding his entire weight. Now, years later he was still confused as to how the hell a ceiling didn’t just collapse when he was crawling across it. There is no explanation for the things he can do. All he knows his that he can do them, and no matter what he’s going to bring Justice for his Uncle. The Harrington’s were the last stone that was left unpicked. The last clue to the mystery. If he didn’t find answers here then Wayne Munson’s death was going to be for nothing. And worst of all his Uncle wouldn’t receive Justice. So that’s how he finds himself crawling around Robert Harrington’s office. Waiting patiently for the older man to leave.

The man’s glasses were falling off his nose, but he was so concentrated on reading his papers that he doesn’t even notice. Whatever that was in those documents must be really important. Eddie moves closer to the window like doors that lead to the balcony. Of course the rich bastard had those. Slowly, and as silent as possible he drops down from the ceiling. Crouching on the carpet, hoping that he didn’t make a wrong move and alert the man. Which was why he hadn’t entered through the doors now behind him. Carefully, he crawls to one of the curtains. Using it as a cover, moving and standing behind it. Becoming one with the cloth. He felt stupid but he didn’t care.

His legs start to ache from standing for so long. Twenty minutes pass before anything exciting happens. Robert Harrington’s doors fling open the rest of the way. A loud crack from the wall, where the door knob created a reasonable hole in. There, stood the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. Wearing a outdated polo and blue jeans. If he wasn’t currently on a mission, he would have fallen on his face from stupidity. He would be lying if he said there wasn’t a slight drool puddle forming in his mask. He knew he was gay, but this guy buried any doubt in his mind (which there was very little to begin with) into the ground.

His eyes have a fiery look to them. Like he was on a rampage of some sort. How a angel like him could possibly hurt a fly was beyond him.

“Stop drooling over Steve Fucking Harrington, Eddie. And focus on what they’re talking about. The suits not catching their voices dipshit.” Henderson’s voice startles Eddie back to his main purpose. If he could move, he would shut off his ear piece the other hand made him. Internally he’s already making note to swat the little shit upside the head when he got home.

Discreetly moving his hand, he subtly rolls one of the gadgets Dustin made him. Watching it roll under Robert Harrington’s desk. The mic catching their voices now. Though Eddie could hear them with the naked ear, Dustin could not.

“Father-” Steve Harrington’s voice is louder then what Eddie imagined it to be. Though he doesn’t understand why he was imagining it in the first place.

“Don’t talk to me like that young man. Remember who you’re talking to.” Mr. Harrington’s voice is in a low growl. Holding his authority the best he can. Though, like with his business the authority he once had over his son was slipping through his finger tips.

“Yeah- I’m talking to Robert Harrington. The biggest fraud of New York City.” Steve has a feral grin on his face. Eddie could barely see him through the curtain, his heart was racing as he’s sure he could see him if he glanced over at any second. “Now- Mom wanted me to tell you, that Dinners done. And that if you don’t go down to eat, she’s going to to cut your balls off.” Steve grins.

“Eddie there’s something off about him.” Dustin’s carefully mumbling into his ear now. “Look at his hands.” He points out.

Eddie listens almost immediately. Eyes flashing towards the others hands that now gripped the corners of his fathers desk. His veins didn’t look right. They looked black? And like they were crawling under his skin. Eddie wasn’t sure what was making his hands to look like that but there was something terribly wrong. He’s heard tales about the Harrington boy. About how he was the nicest one out of them. Now Eddie didn’t personally know him, but his gut was telling him that there was something off about this guy. Most likely he didn’t act like this way normally.

Robert Harrington stands up, jaw set tightly as he moves slamming the book that he was looking through. Moving and closing it in a drawer and locking it shut. Before he’s moving, walking out of the room without a word. Steve’s eyes immediately flicker to the curtain. A amused look on his face as he relaxes his shoulders a bit. “You know there are better hiding places in here.” He says calmly. Hands fidgeting a bit as his veins seem to start to crawl faster. Wrapping themselves around his hands.

Eddie doesn’t see the point in hiding anymore. He moves, walking carefully with his hands up in defense. Steve’s eyes never leave him. “What are you doing in my fathers study?”

“Looking for answers.” Eddie says simply. Sounding vague.

“Hm- mind sharing with the class?” Steve sasses. Crossing his arms over his chest. Hiding his hands, trying to control whatever that was currently happening to his body. Though Eddie could now see that the others veins on his neck were beginning to do the same thing. Moving up to his face, which was scrunching up in a pained expression.

“Eddie.” Dustin’s warns. Sounding a bit to anxious for Eddie’s liking.

“Um- Justice? Hey dude are you alright?” Eddie asks moving forward carefully. Not expecting the other to turn violent. Just as fast as the other entered the office, whatever black substance takes over his body. Reaching out and grabbing ahold of Eddie, before throwing him out the glass door.

Before he is forcefully removed from the others property though, he swears he catches a glimpse of panic and remorse written all over Steve Harrington’s face. Up until whatever that shit was, warps it’s self around his face. Creating a new one. One that he recognized from a few of his past crusades.

Venom

[prof-ramses]

A Semi-formal Introduction

Welcome to this crooked little corner of tumblr, one dedicated to analyzing and appreciating odd and off-putting media, as well as shitposting on the topic of such.

Bear in mind: Anti-capitalist and Anti-A.I. rhetoric will NOT be tolerated, you are free to hold such opinions, but not to spread them on this blog.

Interests:

Spooky Month

Deltarune

Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton (The League of Gentlemen, Psychovile, Inside no. 9)

Gooseworx (The Pink City, Blue channel)

The Amazing Digital Circus

Little Nightmares

Dreams of an Insomniac

Hazbin Hotel/ Helluva Boss (Stella is my queen <3)

Bigtop Burger

Pizza Tower

Big Boy Boxing

Insane Inkorporated (The Red Eclipse)

Team Starkid (especially Hatchetfield)

It is my sincerest hope you'll enjoy your stay and hope you find something that's to your liking.

Yours, disturbingly -Professor Ramses

[spidey-webz]

drop me some thirsty thoughts about mcu men and i’ll write something for you 🤭

ask here

[every-dayiwakeup]

Steve gently takes Billy's broad shoulders, and the blonde just melts, like the ice cream Steve serves ungrateful brats (the ones he doesn't babysit).

"You're so easy," he observes as Billy lets himself become one with his carpet.

"You callin' me a slut, Harrington?" Billy purrs slow and sweet, his mouth quirking into a sorry attempt of regressing to his familiar scowl.

Try as he might, if he was trying to appear threatening, he wasn't succeeding.

Not at his current state; sprawled out under Steve with a dazed look in his eyes, his hair frizzed and sticking up in several different places, a lazy smile effortlessly spreading across his face.

Spending more time in the sun peppered his round cheeks and button nose with more freckles.

Steve snorts, shaking his head. His ponytail swats Billy, who swats back, hissing in surprise. This makes Steve's chuckle evolve into a full on laugh.

"Whatcha laughin' at?" Billy demands, squinting at him.

"You."

Billy turns red at that. "Well Harrington you ain't a pretty sight either-"

"It's not about how you look, jeez!" Steve assures him, and Billy huffs under him, yanking his chest hair.

The whole situation is just so outlandish, the pain only makes Steve laugh harder. "I just... can't believe anyone could ever be scared of you.You're literally so cute!"

He pokes the soft strip of exposed flesh covering Billy's abs, and the blonde yowls, blushing up to the tips of his ears. "'M not cute, dickhead."

"You are. I mean... you're pretty, too," Steve finds himself saying awkwardly. As if Hargrove doesn't have a big enough ego already.

"Shuddup," Billy mumbles. "Not cute."

"You repeating it doesn't make it any less true." Steve squishes his cheeks together, and Billy flips him the bird.

"My God, you're like a fucking cat. Wonder what happens if I do this?" Steve tickles the extra chub under Billy's chin, and a soft mewl is heard from the younger boy. "Face it Hargrove, you're as cute as a button."

"If you tell anyone..."

"Easy, Kitty," Steve snickers, poking his tummy again. Soft.

Both actions earns Steve a well earned sock to the jaw. The punch is a bit pitiful, but it's clear Billy is either very sensitive to touch... or maybe it's just that one part of his body that's sensitive.

Steve licks his lips as lewd thoughts play out in his swimming head. To be fair, whenever he was with Billy, he never stopped thinking questionable, sinful thoughts.

And then Billy barfs all over Steve. A grimace on his face, he says, "If you continue to think I'm cute covered in vomit, Harrington, I implore you to get help."

"Why'd ya...? And on me?"

"Because someone wearing socks with sandles makes me sick. What do you think, Steve?"

"That you have a vendetta against my chest hair?"

Billy proceeds looks at him like he's a cat about to spit up a hair ball out of sheer spite.

And perhaps Steve does need help, because all that he's thinking is, "Oh my God, he called me Steve!"

Tags:

@ouizzyharringrove

@hardestgrove

@whoringrove

@harringroveho

@emeraldwitches

@geormenia

@suspiciouslackofclowns

@jaethecreator

@polaris-ursae

@wixterirox

@lovebillyhargrove

[cavinginhisfvce]

steve whenever billy comes over:

*note: i've used the soap and lotion, but not the spray, before and they make me sleepy (not enough for my insomnia lmao) and it smells so fucking gooood.

[pandagirl45]

Bucky: *sees the plane set to leave in three hours*...hey tony

Tony: *holding up his phone texting sleepily* done *goes back to sleep*

Bucky: *goes back to sleep also*

[They got on a later flight they were late to the hotel]

Pepper: Tony it's your guys wedding!!

Tony: we were tired

Pepper: *grabbing his shoulders* I love you but you make me

Steve: so insane! Buchanan, you asked to sleep in?

Bucky: I am more we rested and you middle named me... :/

[lonesomedotmp3]

one thing I realised very recently is that I'm really into characters with sleep disorders. and if they don't have one I'll give them one whether they like it or not

[prettybillycore]

hmmmmmm sleep or stranger things brainrot?????

I think we all know the answer