#let stevie play every part and sing every song

[reputationmunson]

Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

part one | part two | part 3 | part 4

series summary: Steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: time to meet the family!

content: you and steve go shopping, meeting his family, mentions of drinking, food mention, swearing, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, a little surprise at the end ;)

word count: 4.7k

_

The piercing ring of the phone wakes Steve from his deep sleep and putting a pillow over his head doesn’t drown out the sound even a little bit. He begrudgingly throws his blanket and grumbles obscenities until he reaches the phone.

“Hello?” he answers with an abrasive tone. “Good morning to you too, sunshine” your voice sounds way too happy for someone who’s awake this early. “y/n? Why the hell are you calling me this early?”

“Do you always talk to your girlfriends like this? No wonder you’re still single.’’ you tease and he lets out an overdramatic, loud sigh. “Get to the point it’s too early for this”

“It’s almost ten in the morning that isn’t exactly the break of dawn, but anyways, I need to know if you work today”

“Yeah, I do” he lies. “Liar! I already asked Robin and she told me that you’re off today” he can practically hear your ‘know-it-all-’ smirk over the phone. “I’m five seconds away from hanging up”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist. We need to go shopping today” you tell him and he scoffs at your words “We? Why do I need to go?”

“You said all expenses paid and I need new clothes for our couples getaway, therefore, you’re going shopping with me”

“It’s not a couple’s gateway” is all he says. “That’s all semantics, Stevie”

“Do you even know what semantics means?” he asks “do you?” you reply, turning the tables. His lips purse while he tries to thinks of an answer. He’s got nothing. “Whatever. I’ll pick you up in an hour” he hands up before giving you a chance to gloat.

_

Steve shows up to your house an hour and a half later and he expects nothing less than you reprimanding him for it. You walk outside wearing a dress that might be a bad idea for a breezy day like today, but it’s still a pretty dress. He tells himself that only the dress looks pretty, not the person wearing it. Your sparkly lip gloss that anyone from a mile away can see, looks pretty too, but not because it’s on your lips. He can just appreciate a nice gloss, that’s it.

“Thirty minutes late, mister. That isn’t very ‘boyfriend’ of you” you say as soon as you get into the car. “How about a ‘thank you’ for picking you up? That isn’t very ‘girlfriend’ of you” he rebuttals.

“Hush, I’m the perfect girlfriend. Can I play some music?” you ask and he turns the radio on. “Oh, I love this song!” you cheer when you change the station and ‘We Belong’ by Pat Benatar comes on. “Of course you do” he says and you roll your eyes at him while turning up the radio. In all honesty, he likes this song, but he’ll never admit that out loud.

You sing every word, not too loudly, but loud enough that Steve can hear. Your singing isn’t horrible, but he knows every time he hears this song he’s going to associate it with you. “Why are you always so grouchy? You constantly have a look on your face like someone put salt in your sugar shaker”

“Thanks for putting off your concert long enough to ask me that” he turns the radio down until there's almost no music and you turn it back up a smidge. “See! You’re a total butthead” you argue. “Butthead? Are we five?”

“That’s such a butthead response”

“Then how about we don’t talk for the rest of the car ride? Kay?” he impolitely suggests and you cross your arms. “Fine”

“Fine”

So you sit in silence for the rest of the time you’re in the car, aside from your soft singing. It drives Steve insane.

_

The mall was quite busy for a Tuesday and it takes Steve three loops around the parking lot to find a decent spot.

“I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time”

“What did I say about not talking while we’re in the car?” he asks, rhetorically. You quickly step out of the car and repeat yourself “I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time. I’m not in the car, so you can’t get mad at me! C’mon, let's go!”

Steve sighs before taking the keys out of the ignition and following behind you. Once you reach the entrance you hold your hand out to him. He looks down at your hand and back up at you “What’s that?”

“It’s a hand, Steve. Ya know, most people have one attached to the end of their arm and-”

“What do you want me to do with your hand, smartass’’ he cuts you off. “We’re supposed to be getting used to acting like a couple, so hold my hand” your hand is still held out and you shake it in front of him. “Nope. No way” he pushes your hand but you reach it out again. “Stop being a butthead, yes I said it again because you’re acting like a five year old”

He reluctantly takes your hand and your fingers lace together. “Wow, look at that. You didn’t even burst into flames” you taunt. He doesn’t hate it as much as he thought it would. Your hands are soft and he notices that your nails match the color of your dress. It’s kind of cute.

Steve tries to shield his face with his hand and you laugh at him. “That’s not gonna work. People come from all over to see that head of hair, so they’ll be able to tell that it’s you holding my hand. I hope you’ll be able to survive this tragic event”

He removes his hand from his face “People do not come from all over just to see my hair.” he grumbles. “It’s called a joke, Steve. Since I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile whenever I’m around then I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t know that”

“Let’s just get this over with. Where are we going first?” you drag him to the first store and Steve is convinced everyone is staring at him while he holds your hand. (literally no one is giving either of you a second glance).

“Hold this for me, baby” you hand him a sundress and he grimaces at the nickname “Is holding hands not enough? You gotta call me ‘baby’ too?” he complains. “Get used to it, baby”

After only ten minutes in the store, Steve has a stack of clothes piled in his arms. “Are you really buying all of this?” he asks. “I’m not buying anything, you are, but I have to try it on first and you have to give me your opinion”

“My opinion is that you’re going to look horrible in all of it”

“You say that now, but you’ve never seen me in this shade of pink” you point to one of the dresses in his hand that isn’t holding yours. “I’ve seen you in every shade of every color. Your closet looks like a box of crayons exploded”

“You remember what colors I have in my wardrobe? Sounds like you’re a bit obsessed with me”

“In your dreams…babe? Ugh that sounded weird. Can you try this shit on now? My arm is about to fall off” He whines. “Yeah, I wouldn't want you to break a nail. Wait outside the dressing room so I can show you how it looks” you tell him. “Can’t wait” he replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

Steve checks his watch every thirty seconds because how long does it take to try on one dress?

“Spend your whole life waitin’ on your woman, don’t ya?” an older gentleman asks him. “Uh, yeah. I guess so” chuckles. “My wife, Ethel, over there” he points in the direction of where his wife stands “always takes her sweet time. After forty years of marriage I’m still always waitin’ on her, but she still looks so damn beautiful that it’s worth it”

“Harold, leave the poor boy alone, honey” His wife says when she wanders over to her husband. “No, I don’t mind. I’m just waiting for my girl to show me her new dress” Steve says. He said ‘my girl’ so naturally he didn’t even realize it until he finished his sentence.

“Steve, what do you think- oh, hi!” you greet the couple and introduce yourself. “That’s a beautiful dress, don’t ya think Steve?” Harold asks him. “y-yeah. You look great, sweetheart” he smiles. You do look great. The color of the dress compliments your skin tone perfectly and makes your eyes pop.

“How long have you two been together?” Ethel asks. “Five months” you both say at the same time. “Oh, young love. It’s truly a wonderful thing. I feel like I’m looking in a mirror from forty years ago” She expresses and puts her hand over her heart. “We’ll let you kids get back to it. Enjoy the rest of your day” Harold says. “Thank you, you too!” you respond before they walk away.

“So, um, tell me what you really thing about this dress”

“I think it looks great” he replies. “Really? No snarky comment? Did that old couple make you go all soft on me, Harrington?”

“Not in a million years. Go try the other shit on I don’t wanna be here all day” he carps. “Okay, I’m going, but don’t fall in love with me after seeing how good I look in this next one!” yeah, right he thinks.

After a fashion show and a dent in his bank account, you finally leave the store. Most of your outfits were casual, but cute and preppy enough to impress his family. You even found a dress to wear to the wedding. “I have to get a new bathing suit. Or three new bathing suits” you announce as you walk past a store with all the summer essentials. “Three? For what reason?”

“You said your family members are all staying in lake houses and I need to be prepared. I’m also assuming this fancy hotel we’re staying in has a pool” you explain. “Oh, and how come we aren’t staying in a lake house?” you wonder. “My parents weren’t gonna rent a house for just me. I even told them I was bringing my “girlfriend”, but we’re still staying in a hotel twenty minutes away from everyone” he answers. “Oh no, we’re staying in an expensive hotel with all the amenities we could ever need. Should I bring a survival kit?” you gibe.

“Just go get your swimsuits and don’t make me watch you model them” he pleads. “Why? Scared you’ll like what you see?” Yes, he thinks to himself. “Nope. Just starving. I’m gonna go grab something from the food court” he says before scurrying off.

“Hey, can I get two soft pretzels and two lemonades, please?”

“Steve Harrington?” He hears a woman's voice and turns around. “It’s me! Beth!”

“Beth, hi!” He greets. Steve went on a date with Beth a few months ago and she never called him back. He actually really liked her, too. Until she ditched him for her new boyfriend.

“How are you? Hungry?” She asks when she she's the two pretzels and drinks in his hand. “Oh, um, ones for me and ones for my… girlfriend. She’s shopping right now- oh look, there she is! Baby, I’m over here!” he waves to get your attention.

“Aw, you got me something? You’re so sweet, Stevie” you kiss his cheek and it takes everything in him to not act weirded out. “Babe, this is Beth. Beth this is my girl, y/n”

“Nice to meet you, y/n. It was good to see you, Steve” she says and saunters off. “Did you really have to kiss my cheek?” he wipes your lipgloss off of his face. “Give me a soft pretzel and I’ll do just about anything”

“Gross” he mutters, “Are you done shopping yet?” he groans. “Yes, I’m done. Thanks again for the pretzel. That was actually really nice” you smile at him. “Don’t thank me yet. I poisoned it” he jokes and you chuckle. “Thank god. Then I wouldn’t have to spend three whole days with you”

“Well, actually, we have to go up thursday” he tells you and you stop in your tracks. “Thursday? That's in two days and I have so much to do!” you exclaim. “You’ll just have to get it done a day early. It’s the least you can do after I bought you this pretzel”

“You’re impossible”

“And you’re welcome for the delicious treat and all the clothes”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take me home, please”

“Gladly”

_

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re already exhausted from this weekend before it’s even started. You spent your entire day yesterday doing laundry, going to the store for travel things, packing, and mentally preparing yourself for being Steve’s “girlfriend”.

It wasn’t that pretending to be his significant other was going to be the worst thing in the world. He’s attractive and you’ve heard his personality is alright, you’ve just yet to meet that version of Steve, but you worried it would be awkward.

There’s no way you have any amount of chemistry with Steve that makes it convincing that you two are in love. He scowls at any pet name you give him, he practically freezes any time you touch him, and you’re pretty sure he’d slip into a coma if he was actually nice to you.

The sound of Steve honking his horn pulls you from your anxious thoughts. He can’t even come up and knock on your door. God forbid he helps you carry any of your luggage. He did pop the trunk for you, though, so that’s something at least.

“Is your arm broken?” you ask, sitting down in the passenger seat. “No?” he replies, confused. “I just figured since you didn’t help me carry a single thing that-”

“You’re bitching already? It hasn’t even been five minutes that must be a new record”

“your hair looks flat today” you insult and he glares at you “you do know i have traits other than my hair, right?”

“yeah, I know. just don’t care enough, is all” you state, looking at your manicure like his existence is irrelevant to you. “Right, okay. Let’s just not kill each other until we get there”

“Only if you promise to buy me snacks at the gas station” you bargain “Fine. Whatever you want”

_

You fell asleep halfway through the car ride and have woken up once. For some reason, Steve can’t stop himself from glancing over you. Your head is resting on the window, your lips are slightly parted, and if he didn’t already know you, he’d think you actually look kind of sweet.

“Hey” he whispers and gently shakes your shoulder to wake you up. You grunt in response and he shakes your shoulder a little more. “Wake up, we’re almost at my parents lake house” he says and you jolt awake. “We’re stopping there first? I’m not prepared for that!” you exclaim and flip down the visor mirror to make yourself look presentable.

“They said they have a surprise for us and they’re looking forward to meeting you. It’ll be fine” he puts his hand on your thigh for a split second then quickly pulls it back. “And here we are” he announces when he pulls into the driveway. It’s more of a lake mansion than a lake house, but you didn’t expect anything less. Steve opens the passenger side door for you just in case anyone is watching. He can tell you’re nervous about meeting his parents. You’ve been fiddling with the hem of your top and the look on your face isn’t exactly hiding any of your emotions.

Steve grabs your hand and you’re taken by surprise. He’s touching you without acting like there’s a gun to his head. “Ready to meet the parents?” he asks, giving your hand a squeeze “As ready as I’ll ever be”

He knocks on the door and your leg bounces, anxiously. “Hey, stop worrying. They’ll love you. Most people think you’re great. Apart from me, obviously” he jests and you snicker. You know it isn’t a big deal if his parents don’t like you. You two aren’t actually together and there's a high chance you’ll never see them again, but you have this irritating need for people’s approval. Which is a bit ironic considering your hand is currently being held by the one person who has a huge issue with you.

“Steve, honey! We’re so glad you’re here!” his mom exclaims before hugging him. “You must be y/n! It’s so nice to meet you!” she hugs you next. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Harrington”

“Oh, please, call me Joanne. Come in, I’ll get your father. George, Steve and his girlfriend are here!” she shouts when you all walk inside.

Steves’ father emerges from the back porch of the house and it’s like Steve twenty-five years from now walked in from the future. “Now, what’s someone as pretty as you doing with my son? Did you pay her Steve?” he jokes, but he has no idea how close he is to being correct. “Thanks, dad, good to see you too.” Steve grumbles. “Don’t get too upset, I know how sensitive you can be. I’m George, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he extends his hand and you shake it. “It’s great to meet you. I’m y/n”

“You’re much nicer than most girls my son dates. There was one girl-”

“Anyways, mom said you had a surprise for us” Steve interrupts his dad. “Yes, we do!” his mom says and hands Steve a key. “What’s this?” he asks as he holds the key. “Well, your father and I thought it might be romantic if you two had your own house and you’d be much closer to the family. It’s just right up the road and we cancelled your hotel reservation.”

“That’s so kind of you, Mrs. Harr- Joanne. You didn’t have to do that” you thank her and she beams at your appreciation. “Honey, we’re just so grateful that Steve has found someone that he clearly loves. You should’ve heard how he spoke about you on the phone” She tells you and Steve’s face turns beet red when you turn to look at him. “Uh, yeah, thank you. We should probably go check this out, yeah?’’ he asks and you nod.

“Once you freshen up, don’t forget we’re having dinner here tonight!” Joanne reminds the both of you before saying your goodbyes. Your nerves come back when you think about meeting the rest of his family.

“So… what did you say about me on the phone?” you ask once you both step outside. “I don’t even remember. I didn’t really say much” he lies, but he doesn’t want you to know just in case you get the wrong impression that he might not dislike you as much as you think he does. “Keep your secrets, then. Let's go check out our house!” you squeal and run to the car.

“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute!” you say as you pull into the driveway. The house is smaller than the others, but the ideal size for two people. There’s a porch that overlooks the lake with two rocking chairs and a coffee table. It’s perfect for watching the sun rise and set.

It does make you a little sad that if you weren’t here, Steve would be all alone in a hotel while the rest of his family was within walking distance. Why wouldn’t he stay with his parents? or another family member? “Did you hear me?” he asks, bringing you back from all the questioning going on in your mind.“No, sorry. What did ya say?”

“I asked if you’re ready to go inside. I’ll help you with your bags this time”

“Yeah, thanks.” you grin and get out of the car.

The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside. It’s cozy and inviting. If Steve was your boyfriend, it would be very romantic. “So, only one bedroom I suppose,” Steve speaks up. “I’ll take the couch” he volunteers.

“Steve, I can already tell you’re too tall for that couch. I’ll take it”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind”

“Or we could be adults and share the bed? It’s big enough that you won’t even come close to touching me” you assure him. “If you wanted to sleep next to me, all you had to do was ask” he smirks and your nose scrunches in disgust. “Shut up, I’m trying to be nice to you”

“Let’s unpack before we have to go to dinner. Are you nervous about meeting everyone else?” he asks as you throw your luggage on the bed so you can unpack your bags. “Yeah, I guess. Is there anything I should know?” you question. “Not really. My parents seemed to like you, so they’ve probably already put in a good word.”

The rest of the time you spend unpacking and getting ready is spent in silence. It isn’t either an awkward or comfortable silence. It’s like neither of you are there, not acknowledging each other unless absolutely necessary.

_

You and Steve decide to walk to his parents since it’s such a pleasant evening. The sound of the lake is peaceful and the moonlight illuminates your surroundings so perfectly that it makes the street lamps needless. “It really is lovely out here” you say and Steve hums in agreement. “Are you nervous, Steve? About seeing your family? You ask and he lets out a sigh that he’s been holding in for a while. “Kind of, but they’re probably gonna be more focused on you”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you offer and he shakes his head. “Nah, that’s alright. We’re almost there anyway” When you walk through the door of the house, Steve places his hand on the small of your back. Only for appearances, clearly. “We’re here” he announces and his family comes over to greet you.

“You must be y/n! I’m Linda, Steve’s aunt. We’ve heard many great things about you!” You make your way through all introductions followed by a million it’s nice to meet you too’s. His family is bigger than you expected and you can definitely tell that they have money just by looking at them.

You’re finally offered a glass of wine and happily accept. “Here, Steve, it’s an old-fashioned. The real man's drink” His father hands him a glass and he has to stop himself from chugging it.

“We are all dying to know how you two met” Steve’s aunt says to you once you and Steve are in the kitchen. It seems like everyone is gathered in the kitchen to hear the story. Steve looks a little lost so you decide you’ll take the lead on this one.

“Well, we met through mutual friends and Steve was terrible at attempting to flirt with me. I thought he was just so cute and one night I got stood up on a blind date and Steve came to my rescue and the rest is history” you wrap your arm around his back and his arm wraps around your shoulder. He can’t believe how quickly you came up with that. Your story is met with many ‘aws’ and Steve mouths a ‘thank you’ when no one is looking.

“I like your dress’’ you hear a small voice come from behind you and you turn around to see the most adorable toddler with pigtails. “Thank you, sweetie. I like your hair” you bend down to eye level with her. “I’m y/n. What’s your name?”. “Penelope. I’m this many” She holds up three fingers and you smile. “Do y’wanna color with me?” she asks and you follow her to the table she was coloring at.

“Are you married to Steve?”

“Nope, not married, but I am his girlfriend” it still feels weird to say that. “Okay. You can use my crayons”

Steve watched this interaction from the kitchen. He thinks the drink is already starting to go to his head because he thinks it's absolutely adorable. You’re a natural with kids and with his family. He can’t tell if it’s all part of the act or if you are actually this amazing.

Dinner goes smoothly with the help of several alcoholic beverages. Steve’s hand has been on your thigh throughout the entire meal and he didn’t act bothered by it at all. Maybe his acting skills aren’t so abysmal after all.

“Can I help you wash up?” you ask his mom as she cleans up the kitchen. “That would be wonderful, dear.”

“Penelope adores you, by the way. She’s always been a little shy and she warmed up to you just like that.” She tells you. “She’s a sweet kid. I was like that when I was younger. Shy, I mean. Guess I still am” a small chuckle escapes your throat. “Well, no worries about that. The family loves you” She assures you and you give her a kind smile.

“Ready to go, babe?” Steve asks you. “Go on, I’ll make George help with cleanup” His mom hugs you both and his hand holds yours as you say your goodbyes to everyone.

“That wine got to me, I think. I feel all warm and fuzzy” you say with a giggle. Steve still hasn’t let go of your hand even though you're halfway back to the house by now. “I know what you mean. You were great, by the way. Pretty sure they’re convinced we’re in love.”

“Wow, you’re complimenting me? You must definitely be tipsy” you laugh. “And you’re still holding my hand so you’re absolutely toasted” he quips. “m’not. I just might fall over if you let go” so he doesn’t let go, not until you’re both inside the bedroom.

Once you both climb into bed, there’s more than a respectable distance between you and Steve. For some reason, a strange thought crosses your mind and you have the biggest urge to bring it up. “Hey, Steve?”

“Hm?”

“I thought of something we haven’t practiced yet and it’s kinda weird, but hear me out”

“Okay…I’m listening” he says, sounding a little suspicious. “Do you think it’ll be weird if we don’t kiss? Nothing crazy just a couple pecks here and there” he sits up and turns on the bedside table lamp. “You wanna makeout in front of my family?”

“No! Of course not. I said peck” he doesn’t respond and you’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life.

“Okay. Yeah, we probably should practice it. Ya know, just to be convincing” he finally speaks up. “Yeah. Just to be convincing.” you both sit up and scoot closer to each other. “Wait! Can you turn off the light?” you request and he quickly turns off the light.

You feel Steve’s hand resting on your cheek and your heart thumps in your chest out of nerves, not anything else, that’s for sure. “Ready?” he asks “Ready”

His lips brush yours and linger for a few seconds before he places his lips on yours in a proper kiss. It’s a simple kiss. There’s no tongue, obviously, and it feels like it’s over before it's even started.

“Wait, sorry. Let me try again” he says. He kisses you again and it’s still simple, but this time your lips move together in a harmonious agreement. His body moves closer to yours and you feel yourself slipping away, like you’ve forgotten that you’re kissing Steve Harrington. Someone that you aren’t supposed to be kissing.

He pulls back as he feels that the kiss might grow more intense. You’re left breathless and stunned, but Steve doesn’t seem to be as affected as you are, but he is. His palms are sweaty and his heart feels like it might jump out of his throat. He nonchalantly rolls over back to his side while you stay in the same position, staring at his silhouette.

“Goodnight, y/n”

“y-yeah, goodnight”

_

a/n: IT’LL GET JUCIER SOON I PROMISE

_

taglist: @freezaz123 @lovelyimpossibleobservation @johnricharddeacy @mjtalksaboutanything @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus (i hope i didn't miss anyone!)

[ramennoodlezzzao3]

The outsiders as B99 scenes

Two-bit: listen Pone, it’s okay, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about

Ponyboy: I’m not embarrassed and I didn’t get mugged! Three men tried to mug me but I fought them off, injuring two of them!

Sodapop: Why would you keep this from me? 

Darry: And why would you lie about going to the library?

Dally: Because he couldn’t go! Because he’s injured!

Ponyboy: I wasn’t injured I was lightly stabbed

Darry: I’m sorry…you were STABBED?!

Ponyboy: Lightly Stabbed.

—————————

Dally: We called you in because your first contact with Tim was a disaster 

Johnny: Why? Because our “Kill it with kindness” approach backfired and he threatened to kill me?

Dally: Yes! Every single detail of what you just said!

—————————

Dally, who just got back from the reformatory: Alright, fill me in, tell me everything I missed

Johnny: won’t take long, only three things happened: Darry chipped his tooth and had a lisp for a week

Ponyboy: Number two, Two-bit and his mom accidentally wore the same outfit one day

Johnny: and Darry banned headphones inside the house due to the Sodapop incident

Dally: What’s the Sodapop Inci-

Steve: Don’t ask

—————————

Two-Bit: We’re Dr-dr-driven in a-

Both: CAR!

Dally: Destination: Drug Dealers-

Both: BAR!

Two-Bit: Pass the mic right over to-

Both: PONY

…

Two-Bit: we forgot Ponyboy….

…

Dally: but we can’t turn back because we’ve gone too far-ny!

Two-Bit: We have to turn back though, we can’t just leave him-

—————————

Two-Bit, standing outside the school: Wait for it…wait for it…9:01, Ponyboy Curtis is officially late for the first time ever. Alright, let’s do this, who’s got theories?

Steve: Uhm…alarm didn’t go off?

Two-Bit: all three alarms? All with battery backup? Come on, who wants to take this seriously!?

Johnny: Oh! He was abducted in his sleep!

Two-Bit: That’s what I’m talking about! Super dark, Jonnny, but way more plausible than Stevies idiotic alarm clock theory

Sodapop: I bet he tucked himself into bed too tight and got stuck

Steve: Maybe he fell into a different universe where he’s interesting 

Dally: It’s 9am, why arn’t yall inside the school?

Two-Bit: Pones a few minutes late and we’re all trying to find out why!

Dally: I’d like to play. I’d say he’s in line at the…DX!

Dally: This is fun

Two-Bit: it is fun, but you’re all wrong! He clearly slipped through a subway grade and is having a terrible make out sesh with a mole man!

Ponyboy: *comes running up to the school*

Steve: Ponyboy Michael, we were worried sick, Do you care to explain yourself?!

Ponyboy: I’m only 70 seconds late, don’t worry about it!

Dally: Pony, you will tell us and you will tell us how

Ponyboy while looking down: I was in line at the DX 

Dally: *Claps* HOT DAMN!

—————————

Steve: Do you remember what he was singing?

Johnny: I think it was the song “I want it that way”?

Steve: Backstreet Boys, I’m familiar…

Steve: Soc 1, could you please sing the opening to “I Want It That Way”?

Soc 1 who is currently tied to a chair with several other Socs as the gang surrounds them: Really?… okay *clears throat* You are my fire

Johnny: *Shakes head* 

Steve: Soc 2, Keep it goin’

Soc 2: The one desire

Steve: Soc 3

Soc 3: believe when I say

Steve: Soc 4!

Soc 4: I want it that way

Steve: tell me why!

All Socs: Ain’t nothing but a heartache

Steve: tell me why!

All Socs: ain’t nothing but a mistake

Steve: now Soc 5!

Bob: I never wanna hear you say~!

Steve: Yaooo!

All Socs: I want it that way!

Steve: Chills, literal chills!

Johnny: it’s Soc 5, Soc 5 drowned Ponyboy 

Steve: Oh, yeah, I forgot about that part-

[jadedlavendergemini]

A Name is a Name

In which you and Eddie have yet to find the right name for your daughter.

It’s an early, quiet morning in Hawkins. The Sun just barely peeking out between the forest trees of the trailer park. The television is turned on low for back ground noise as you rest on the couch, your newborn snoozing in your arms.

You had spent time with your little bundle of joy since four thirty this morning trying to get her to fall back to sleep, not wanting to wake Eddie who was as cozy as possible in your shared bed.

You look down at your baby girl. Her little tuff of hair was closer to your own waves, but her eyes, she definitely had Eddie’s eyes. Something you found yourself entranced by every-time she cooed and looked into your own.

You were brought out of your trance by the smell of coffee wafting nearby. You turn your head slightly and see your metal head boyfriend holding out the familiar Garfield mug to you.

“Morning, beautiful.” He says, as you shift to lay the sleeping infant against your chest with one hand and used the other to except the mug.

“Thank you,” you say, the smell of caffeine instantly keeping you awake.

He moves to sit next you, placing his arm around your shoulders. “You know, I told you to wake me up when she’s up. I hate you doing all work, sweetheart.”

“I don’t mind.” You reply, taking a sip from your mug. “The campaign ran longer than usual last night, I thought you could use the rest.”

“Sweetheart, you carried her for nine months and had to push her out. The least I can do help with her diapers and put her back to bed.” He says, placing his mug down. He gestures for you to hand her over.

You set your own mug down before gently lifting her into his arms. She moves and whines before settling back down against his chest, pacifier comforting her once more.

You could help but smile at the two, your heart melting instantly. Eddie noticed and grinned back.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You replied. “You two just look so sweet.”

“Well, she’s got most of your looks so no doubt she’ll be the most beautiful kid in Hawkins.”

“I’m sure she will, but only because she has your eyes.”

“The eyes you couldn’t resist.”

“Yep, your eyes were whole part of your seduction technique.”

Eddie just cracks a smile and gives you a wink, making you giggle.

“You know it’s been a little over a week now and this beautiful child still doesn’t have a name.” He reminds you.

You sigh, placing your hand to your temple. “I know, I know. I just haven’t heard one that fits her.”

“Well let’s go over the list.”

“Eddie, I am sorry but we are not naming our child Stevie. I don’t want Harrington to think we named her after him. And Rebecca just doesn’t sound it.”

“Okay, well how about Samantha? Or Josie?”

“Josie? Absolutely not. And Samantha? Nope.”

“Well she can’t be nameless forever, sweetheart.”

“I know but nothing fits.” You had struggled during the pregnancy to find a name and eventually given up. You were hoping once she arrived it was come instantly, but now it just seemed harder.

It falls quiet and your eyes wander to the television which was playing Grease. You watched as Sandy began singing ‘Hopelessly devoted to you’. You hummed the song quietly, it had always been your favorite song from the film.

As you hummed the song softly, you stopped abruptly and looked closer at the screen. Specifically at Sandy.

“Olivia,” you say.

Eddie looks to you. “Olivia?”

“Olivia Munson?” You try out loud.

He looks down at the snoozing baby and rubs her back softly. “Olivia Munson. That sounds perfect.”

You move to scoot closer to the pair and run a hand gently to rub her soft growing hair. “Little Olivia Munson.”

As if she heard the name her self, the baby lightly coos as she snuggles closer to her father. Eddie let’s out a chuckle.

“I think she approves.” He moves gently to place a kiss on your temple.

[corrodedcoughin]

so everyone thinks Eddie is a metal head through and through, that no other music shall touch his eardrums for pain of death.

The thing is, these people are completely wrong. Eddie just loves loving music. He loves making mixtapes based on mood, on scenarios in his head, on experiences he’s had, on experiences he’s never had! So needless to say Eddie munson has a diverse music collection.

A part of this music collection that is rapidly expanding is Motown and Soul. Because you see, the thing is, when Eddie thinks about Steve Harrington all he can hear is Motown. From the supremes, Marvin Gaye, the four tops, Etta James, Sam Cooke, these iconic soul singers encapsulate how Steve makes him feel. The heart singing joy of making Steve smile, the chronic ache of wanting but not having, they cover it all.

Eddies accepted his fate, doesn’t let himself think about how Steve will always be an ‘if only’ to him. He puts his soul music on and dreams. So when he’s out at a make shift karaoke night with the rest of the older friend group, all of them, except designated driver Steve, drunk off of cheap beer when Mary wells - ‘my guy’ comes on. Well. Eddie maybe loses his brain to mouth filter even more than usual, slides up to Steve, both arms wrapping around him from the back, gives a deep sigh and says ‘mmmm this is my stevie song’ and shoves his face into the other man’s neck.

Eddie knows he does this, has horrific memory of it in fact, because the next morning it replays on repeat in his head every time he tries to close his eyes. He groans and hopes he can die by asphyxiation from a cheap, thin pillow. Unfortunately the universe is not so kind. No, instead he hears the sound of an engine, an engine he knows all too well as belonging to the boy he’d do anything to avoid right now. There a knock at the door and Eddie plans on ignoring it, plans to hide in the safety of his pit of shame. What he doesn’t count on is Steve coming around the side of the trailer, and climbing into his open bedroom window. ‘No point hiding Eddie, I dropped you off last night, your car is in the drive and there is no way you’d be going out after the drinks you were knocking back last night’

Once again, Eddie groans. Steve doesn’t stay long, ‘just wanted to know you were alive man. Good to see you didn’t choke on your own barf’. There a muffled noise from under the blanket ‘okay…well…after last night I just wanted to drop this off, let me know when you’ve listened to it, okay?’ And with a pat on where he thinks Eddie’s head might be, Steve is back out the window.

Eddie emerges from his pit after some consideration, lured out by Steve’s cryptic comment. He spots a casette on his desk with a post it not that says ‘my Eddie song’. Eddie is immediately sweating. What is going on and does he really want to know what this is going to be? What if it’s purple people eater? What if it’s just a blank tape?!? He sits with it in his hands for far too long before he slams it into the player trying not to let himself think. He’s terrified and wishes he didn’t exist. This is the worst day of his life.

Slowly a song all too familiar starts to play through the speakers ‘I just can’t help myself’ by the four tops hums through Eddie’s room and suddenly, This is the Best Day of his Life

[rogueddie]

part one

Steve loved seeing the shock and horror Eddie caused in his little Christmas town. Even then, it was with Eddie trying to be... not as visibly different. It's how they learnt that his snakes prefer to be curled up under a hat- all the lights and snow hurt their eyes.

But, as expected, they soon grow bored with the town. There's not much to do and everyone is nice enough that they soon get used to Eddie. They aren't shocked by him, even the assholes stop giving him the side-eye.

It stops being fun. Eddie is bored.

So, in the late evening when everyone is inside with their hot chocolates and cookies, they sneak back out and into the woods.

"We should go for the brightest one," Eddie suggests. "Like... neon colors! Or pastels! Something sweet."

"What about that orange-y one, with the big leaves? That looked cute."

"Too much like mine. What about, this time, we try to find something completely different to both of our towns?"

"Deal."

The clearing looks exactly the same... almost.

"Is that path... glowing?" Steve frowns.

"Holy shit, it is... and look! Little heart confetti! Stevie... we're going down this path, right? Pretty please?"

Steve sighs, putting his hands on his hips, trying to look annoyed. But, with the gleeful smirk Eddie has, he's not sure it works.

"Fine! Let's go, come on."

Eddie holds his hand as they walk down the path, leaning close enough for his snakes to gently bump against his head without knocking Eddies hat off.

The trail of heart confetti gets gradually more neon, but more scattered, the closer they get to the town.

They're both surprised to find that it's... subtle. There's a lot of creams, beige and pastel pinks. The bright, blood red is used more as a highlight and, thanks to the soft backdrops, it isn't as overwhelming.

There's a lot of hearts- there's hearts everywhere. Hearts and roses.

"Here, quick!" Eddie hisses.

They duck behind a building, creeping close enough that they can make out the quiet, distant song being played. The singer is waxing poetry about a person, singing of love and longing, the entire thing sounding so bittersweet.

The people are further down the street. None of them are like those in Steve or Eddies town- they aren't so overjoyed that it seems fake and forced, but they don't shy away from joy and affection either.

"It's so... sweet." Steve notes.

"Maybe we should, uh, hang back? For a little while."

But there's a dark look in his eyes, still a freshly familiar thing, that promises something else.

"Eds," Steve breathes, feeling a little scandalised at where they stop. They're barely past the first tree line. "The town is right there."

"Mm, must be something in the air." He picks a piece of heart confetti off the tree that he's back Steve up against.

Eddie leans in slowly though, giving him a chance to tell him to stop.

He never does.

Something about how desperate and needy Eddie gets... it's like catnip for Steve. He doesn't know how he could ever refuse Eddie's lips, the way he presses against him so hard that it's almost bruising, licking into his mouth like he'll die if he isn't close enough. Like Steve is the very air he breathes.

The snakes don't help either. They curl around his neck, always so gentle and more there to hold him close, rubbing their faces on whatever part of Steve they can reach. The way they nuzzle his jaw makes his heart ache.

He knows he shouldn't put his arms around Eddie's neck, he knows exactly what will happen- he knows it will be the same as every other time.

And yet, he can't resist, draping his arms around Eddie's neck. The few snakes that are too far away to nuzzle into Steve's face curl around his hands and wrists - they aren't tight or restraining, they fall off if Steve even twitches, but the illusion always has his stomach bubbling with-

Someone gasps.

Steve and Eddies heads snap towards the sound at breakneck speed.

"Oh, woah, are you ok?" Eddie asks. His snakes try to hide, tucking themselves behind his head. Steve leaves one arm awkwardly raised so they have something to latch onto.

"Um... no one is supposed to be back here." The young woman says.

"Were you told that the woods are, what, mean and scary?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, you know..." Eddies arms stay looped around Steves waist, dragging him around a little so he's half hidden behind him. "I thought towns like this would be all mean and scary too."

"Really?" She glances back at the town, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Oh, totally. It's different."

"What he's trying to say," Steve quickly continues, squirming so he can turn to face her. "Is that there are other towns, like ours. The little path, in these woods, just leads you to them. Granted, his town is scary, but it's... playful? Right?"

"Yeah! Nothings more fun that a good scare!"

"Is your town... love themed?"

"Valentines," she corrects. "It's all very romantic."

"It looks like it. It's all very sweet. Is it valentines right now?"

"Yeah, we- oh! I have to- I'm sorry, I have to go! You probably shouldn't stay, I don't think Jason would take to kindly to strangers."

"What's your name?" Eddie calls out to her as she hurries off.

"Chrissy! It was lovely to meet you!"

"We're not leaving already, are we?" Eddie asks once she's out of sight.

"Hell no," Steve snorts, grabbing Eddies hand with a grin. "I saw them selling little heart shaped chocolates!"

"Well, now we have to stay."

"Just a little while."

"Until sunset?"

"Sure. Happy valentines, Eds."

[threewaywithdelusion]

spinning (for you)

There’s something magical about the open road at night. 

They’re in the middle of nowhere, driving down a deserted highway in Steve’s Bimmer. It’s just them and the darkness and the endless Indiana summer air. Sometimes they drive under a street lamp and in the sudden puddle of light, Steve will be able to see Eddie's features. His big dark eyes and soft smile and the dimples in his cheeks. Steve is glad the road is empty and there are fields on either side because he can barely pay attention to the road when Eddie looks like this.

He can’t look away. Especially not when it feels like every glimpse could be his last. 

He’s mourning a relationship that isn’t yet over, but Steve’s been here before. He knows what it looks like when someone is falling out of love. He knows the feeling of kisses that only he initiates. The taste of bitter blood in the back of his mouth. 

He doesn’t think Eddie has realized it yet, that they’re racing towards the end. And Steve is nothing if not stubborn. He will hang onto this relationship by his fingertips until he’s bloody and bruised and he won’t let go until Eddie asks him to. 

It took Nancy almost a year to give up on Steve. Steve wonders if Eddie will be able to last longer. 

Probably not. They’re both too big for him, these beautiful, passionate people. Nancy with her sweet smile and her steady hands and her dreams of seeing her name in bylines in newspapers far, far away from Hawkins. Eddie, with his boundless energy and his quick fingers and his dreams of playing on stage for masses of adoring fans. 

Steve was never going to be enough for either of them. He should just be happy to have gotten a bit of their time. 

But he’s an inherently greedy thing. He wants forever and never more so than when he knows it’s out of reach. 

There’s nothing certain in this life but death and taxes and Robin, and Steve loves her more than anything else but she’s part of him. She’s his Self, like his blood and his guts and his brain. 

Steve can be lonely even with Robin there. Not lonely like a big, empty house. Lonely like the static of a record spinning after the music has already ended. 

She didn’t choose him. They’re trauma-bonded soulmates and she can’t separate Steve from herself any more than he can separate her from himself. 

Steve wants someone to want him, not just need him. 

He’d thought, for a moment, that Eddie could be that person. He’d fallen hard and fast, the way he always does, and miraculously Eddie had felt the same. They’ve had months of lazy kisses and rough sex. Of Eddie reading books aloud with Steve’s head resting in his lap. Of Steve cooking breakfast and the two of them sharing it, bite by bite. Of slow-dancing in Steve’s living room and head-banging in Eddie’s trailer. Of holding each other close after nightmares and mouthing over sun-warmed skin in grassy fields. 

Now, the late season heat feels heavier every day, one last gasp of summer before autumn sweeps it away, and Steve knows that when the cold comes it will find them already dead. 

Steve’s memory hasn’t been the same since the series of concussions, but he’s trying so hard to pay attention to all these little moments, like if he presses them hard enough into his synapses he might be able to keep them. 

Like right now, Eddie rolling the window down as they speed down the darkened roads. The wind lifts up Eddie’s curls, swirling them around so that Eddie is all flyaway hair and flashes of pale skin. He’s grinning, sticking a hand out the window to feel the air fly by, singing along to a new metal song that came out last week. 

He already knows all the words. 

“Ain’t it funny how it is? You never miss it ‘til it’s gone away,” Eddie sings. 

That’s not true, Steve thinks. I miss you and you aren’t even gone yet. 

Eddie launches into the chorus, which even Steve has heard enough times to know the words to. The hazards of dating a metalhead. 

“Come on, Stevie!” Eddie says. “I know you know it!”

He grabs one of Steve’s hands off the wheel and starts moving it back and forth in a silly little dance. Steve knows better than to attempt headbanging while driving (and Eddie laughs at his headbanging anyway, says Steve is too careful not to mess up his hair) so he shimmies side to side in a way that doesn’t fit the metal music at all. 

Eddie whoops like he doesn’t care. 

As the second verse comes on, Eddie sings at the top of his lungs and Steve rolls all the windows down. The wind whips through the car and it feels like they’re sitting in the middle of a storm. It’s electric. 

“Too much time on my hands! I got you on my mind!” Eddie sings. He’s lit up, completely in his element. Eddie feels larger than life sometimes and here, grinning as he sings into the abyss of the night sky, Steve could almost mistake him for a figment of his imagination. A pipe dream; too good to be true. 

The chorus explodes from the speakers and Steve joins in on the singing. 

“So-o-o, understand, don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years!”

Eddie’s fingers are tight around Steve’s, rings digging into his skin, and Steve hopes they’ll leave a mark, something he can look at later. A little piece of proof that this was real, that Eddie Munson chose to hold his hand. 

“Face up! Make your stand! And realize you’re living in the golden years!”

They’re dancing so hard the car is bouncing, Eddie’s hair flying everywhere, the wind whistling through the windows and the music roaring through the speakers. Steve’s blood is thrumming and in this moment, he feels so, so alive. 

He isn’t sure sometimes, that all of this is real. Isn’t convinced that he wasn’t eaten by a demodog in a junkyard. That he didn’t die deep in a Russian base. 

And even when he thinks he’s alive, he isn’t sure he’s real. Who the hell is Steve Harrington? A boy with a silver spoon in his mouth and parents he occasionally forgets exist? A guy who will practice keg stands in secret until he makes himself sick, all so he can volunteer to drink at a party and have everyone’s eyes on him? A devoted boyfriend who leaves notes in his girlfriend’s locker and kisses her in hallways, like he’s performing love for the masses, and doesn’t ever notice that she doesn’t love him back? An infallible hero, who can take hit after hit and always get back up?

Who is Steve when nobody is watching? Does he even exist?

In this moment, he feels like he does. He can feel Eddie’s skin and his own heartbeat and he thinks he likes whatever creature is sitting in the driver's seat, even if he’s not sure it’s Steve Harrington. 

So understand

Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years

Face up, make your stand

And realize you’re living in the golden years

As the song ends, Eddie whoops, loud and long. Steve laughs, enamored, and Eddie presses a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand. 

The next song to come on the station is Mötley Crüe and Eddie groans at the glam metal. 

Steve takes advantage of Eddie’s disdain to flip the station. This is how they pass control back and forth, each getting to stay on their preferred station until a song they don’t like comes on. Then the other person gets to take control of the music. 

Steve doesn’t particularly care what genre of music he listens to, so he usually gets more songs in a row. But metal songs last way longer than any other genre, so Steve and Eddie get about even time on each of their stations. 

A few months ago, Steve had thought that was a sign from the universe that they fit together. That they were in balance. 

A few months ago, Eddie tried to pretend to like glam metal so he could stay on his station and Steve didn’t know him well enough to call him on it. It was only once they’d been on Eddie’s station for two hours that Steve even thought to question it. In his defense, he was too busy watching Eddie headbang and sing and smile to pay attention to anything else. 

Last week, Steve lied about liking a song because he wanted to stay on his station for longer and Eddie rolled his eyes, not like he thought Steve was being cute, but like he was genuinely annoyed. 

Steve is always endearing until he isn’t, but he can never figure out why. He doesn’t think he changes his behavior — people just get bored or annoyed after a while. 

There’s something in him that’s unlovable. He’s not sure if it’s so deep within him that it takes people a while to find it or if it’s something obvious and superficial that grows tiring after a while, grating from overexposure. 

But Steve can feel the sands of time running low. 

“Alright!” says the DJ on the radio. “Next up, we have a request. This is for Jimmy, from Angela. This is Thank You For The Music by ABBA.”

Eddie lets out a loud groan and dramatically curls up in the passenger seat, hiding his face in his hands. 

Steve grins. For all that Eddie disdains pop radio, he has a fondness for ABBA. Steve has caught him many times bobbing his head along to the beat. Once, he even caught him singing Gimme Gimme Gimme, though Eddie maintains that when he does it, it’s out of gay rebellion and not appreciation for ABBA. 

“Nope!” Steve says cheerily. “I’m not letting you get away with this!”

He pulls the car onto the shoulder of the road and gets out, leaving his door open as he rounds the car to Eddie’s side. Eddie feigns reluctance but he lets Steve drag him out of the passenger seat and to the front of the car. They’re standing in the beam of the headlights, the only spot of light in the empty road, and Steve pulls Eddie into his arms. Properly. Like they’re slow-dancing, the way they do in Steve’s living room the nights they’re soft with each other. 

Those nights have been getting fewer and farther between and Steve wants one last dance. Here, outside the Hawkins town limits, in a place that’s both nowhere and anywhere. No expectations or history or promises to way them down. Nothing but the cicadas and the music filling the air. 

Thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing

Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing

The song is a bit too upbeat for a slow dance, but Steve doesn’t let that deter him. He marches them back and forth, Eddie laughing as his feet get stepped on, and Steve feels a thrill at making him laugh. 

He keeps them going through the verse, but he can see Eddie beginning to look around. Maybe it’s the woods or the darkness or the bad memories creeping in. It’s normal. It’s fine. 

Except that Eddie is always getting distracted of late. Always looking away. 

Steve feels like a performer, desperately trying to be the star of the show. Like a child, asking his parents to be proud. 

Who can live without it? I ask in all honesty

What would life be

Steve spins out dramatically, throwing his arms wide, then twirls back into Eddie’s arms. Eddie fumbles to catch him, their feet getting tangled up, and when Eddie tips over, off-balance, Steve turns the motion into a dip. 

They’re clumsy and unpracticed and he’s sure the dip looks terrible. But Eddie’s yelp of fear cuts off into a surprised bark and when he meets Steve’s eyes, he’s impressed. 

Steve pulls Eddie upright again and they’re close together, breathing the same air, Eddie’s eyes huge, pupils tiny in the glow of the headlights. 

“You’ve got moves, Harrington,” he says. 

Steve smiles. Doesn’t say that a month ago Eddie would have called him Stevie. 

“Only when I have someone worth using them on,” he says instead, and it’s the kind of flirty, glib comment that belongs at the beginning of a relationship. Not at the end of one. 

It makes Eddie’s face fall a bit and Steve doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He was only trying to get Eddie to smile. 

He’s a disco ball; he’s a record. Spinning endlessly. Anything, anything as long as it will keep you looking. 

He wishes he knew what Eddie wants so he could become it. But he thinks it’s already too late. 

The bridge slows down and Eddie starts to take a step back, like the song is over. But Steve wants his perfect last dance. 

He pulls Eddie in close. His arms wrapped all the way around Eddie’s torso, Eddie’s folded over his shoulder. He tucks his face against Eddie’s neck, against all that soft, dark hair. Eddie smells like cigarettes and motor oil and the 2-in-1 shampoo Steve scoffs at but secretly loves the smell of. 

Eddie pulls him closer and they sway, side to side, way too slowly to match the music. 

Without a song or a dance, what are we? 

So I say thank you for the music

For giving it to me

As the last notes of the song ring out, Steve pulls Eddie into a kiss. It’s achingly slow, sweet but hungry. A desperate, tragic goodbye. 

Eddie steps away first, giving Steve a strange look. He starts for the passenger side door and Steve can’t bear to see this end, so he blurts out “Let’s lie on the hood. We can stargaze.”

Eddie stops and turns and for a moment Steve hopes. But then he says, “Maybe another night, baby. I’m tired and it’s late. We should get going.”

You’re always going. I’m always watching you leave. 

“Yeah,” Steve says. Swallows down the thickness is his voice. “Okay. Let’s go.”

He gets back into the car. Lets Eddie turns the radio down as he down a wide U-turn and points them back towards Hawkins. 

He glances over at Eddie, who is staring out the window. Watching the scenery go by, maybe. Or lost in thought. Somewhere Steve can’t reach him. 

Steve blinks furiously as he refocuses on the road, his throat tight. He wishes they were more than this. He wishes he were enough. 

He would be a firework show if it would make Eddie smile. He would be Eddie’s favorite lover; his stalwart best friend; the world’s best actor. He would be Eddie’s favorite song. 

But he can’t do any of that. All he can do is blink back the tears, put on a performance of a smile, and drive Eddie home. 

~~~

I'm still editing this, so feel free to give feedback. It's meant to give mirrorball vibes, is that coming through?

[poguesofthebau]

dating steve would include... (part two)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader part one

-sneaking him into your house for sleepovers

-him complaining whenever you dedicated time to schoolwork instead of him (even if you allowed him to sit with you while you worked)

-both of you being slightly territorial but completely unwilling to admit it, which was always entertaining for your friends to watch in action

-occasionally giving him a hard time over all the girls he dated before you just to see him get all worked up and defensive

-letting robin take the passenger seat when he drives you both to school, until he randomly starts picking you up first and doubling back by his house for robin afterward ("what? you're too nice to tell robin to get in the back, so i had to take matters into my own hands")

-dustin referring to you and steve as every famous duo under the sun •bonnie and clyde •romeo and juliet •holmes and watson

-understanding all the kids' d&d terminology, which only ever surprises steve ("babe, how do you know this stuff? am i the only normal one here?")

-randomly making a statement supporting queer rights during a conversation with steve and robin which eventually led to her coming out to you

-punching billy in the face in the school parking lot one time because he was being racist giving lucas a hard time, which steve was actually pretty mad at you for (“y/n, he could’ve seriously hurt you! do you not understand that?”)

-taking mid-day naps together after you got out of school/he got out of work

-steve being the best listener when you just needed someone to rant to •mumbling a supportive mhmmm whenever you made a specific point during the rant •you rambling for 5 minutes straight, then sighing and saying, “ya know?”, to which steve nods and says “i hear ya, babe” •when your anger fades a little and you ask him, “am i just being crazy?” his immediate response is something like ‘absolutely not! those dickheads are lucky i don't send el to fling them off a rooftop or something'

-dustin barreling into your room while preemptively covering his eyes and yelling threats every time he realizes steve is over and you have the door closed

-him offering to drive you whenever you mentioned having to go somewhere to him

-constantly having to explain lord of the rings/the hobbit references to him (“babe, please just read the books”)

-when you ask what's gonna happen when you go away for college, he looks genuinely dumbfounded before shrugging and saying, "i thought i'd just go wherever you go"

-a double date with nancy and jonathan that was both horribly awkward and incredibly fun

-spearheading all the kids' crazy plans, which drives steve insane

-steve looking at you and saying, “these are the people that are gonna babysit our kids one day” every time your friends did anything abnormal/ridiculous •while dustin, mike, lucas, and will have a full-blown argument over their d&d campaign •after robin trips and face-plants on the walk from her front door to steve's car •when el is using her powers to adjust the tv antenna so no one has to get up from their seats •after nancy convinced everyone to go back into the upside down/face vecna despite the terrible odds

-your mom adoring him, which kind of annoyed dustin but also made his heart feel whole

-his fingers hooked in your belt loops in a crowd to keep from getting separated

-him playing with your fingers while you talked to dustin about something that didn’t interest him

-listening to him sing in the shower when he didn’t realize how loud he was being

-giving him tons of nicknames but only reusing the ones that made him blush •lover •stevie (which he forbade anyone else from calling him) •batman (originally because of his iconic nail bat, but then a double entendre of sorts after his encounter with vecna's bats)

-him knowing your favorite song off the top of his head even before vecna came around

[lnnlove]

leather and lace | e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

summary: your band plays at the hideout on thursdays and you've always competed with eddie munson. when you realize your actual feelings towards him, you start sending messages in the songs you choose to sing and eddie notices. a (fr)enemies to lovers with mutual pining story where the upside down is never mentioned and the only conflict is the one that these two idiots in love create on their own.

word count: 10k

warnings: slight asshole!eddie, general angst, cussing, marijuana use, drinking, reader uses fem pronouns, mentions of harassment, beginnings of smut, if I missed any please let me know!

author's note(s): I did not fact check if all of the songs mentioned were released at the time this would be taking place (I feel like this is '87 or '88 and our boy got to graduate), please don't hate me! this is basically an open love letter to miley cyrus's version of heart of glass (when they sing heart of glass in the story, imagine this version) which obviously was not around then so if you can't ignore a few inaccuracies, don't read. also, i've just decided the fourth member of corroded coffin is named kevin instead "unnamed freak" or "freak 1" as he is referred to on wiki and imdb (😭).

here, have an accompanying playlist bc I love you <3

The Queens of Noise were what you sentimentally named your band after winning the middle school talent show when you sang the song of the same name by The Runaways with your four best friends.

"It's easy to sing the same words over and over again," Eddie Munson said to you backstage after the awards. "You just sang to the recorded song, you didn't even play your own instruments." That was the first thing the older boy ever said to you.

"Whatever Eddie. You're just jealous that we won," you replied to him with squinted eyes and a look that said eat shit Eddie Munson.

"First place doesn't prove anything except that the teachers like you better than us. It doesn't mean you actually have any talent," Eddie sneered, "come on guys, let's go."

Eddie brushed past you to leave the auditorium, jutting his shoulder into yours harshly as he walked past with his band Corroded Coffin following closely behind him, but Gareth actually smiled sweetly at you and your friends and Jeff quietly congratulated his sister standing behind you.

Ever since that day, everything you do is to prove Eddie Munson wrong.

Eddie said it wasn't impressive if you weren't playing your own instruments, so you learned guitar. Sarah switched to keyboard from piano lessons. Jess took up drums and Heather decided on bass. Tiffany (or Tiff as she preferred) got her brother Jeff to teach her guitar and she turned out to be better than you so you became the lead singer. The girls all help you on backup vocals and sometimes Sarah takes the verses of songs that require a more soprano voice, just like Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie the two of you like to joke with each other.

By the end of your freshman year in high school, you and your girls had solidified yourselves as the Queens of Noise and were practicing every other day in Heather's garage (much to her parents' dismay). You all decided to enter the talent show again next year.

You thought Eddie might finally see your group as a proper band according to his standards since your friends would be playing the music for One Way or Another by Blondie while you sang. But all he said to you after the show was "Easy for you to get all the attention when they're stuck with all the hard work," motioning to your friends behind you before brushing passed you to the other guys.

So you decided you could start playing the second guitar part under Tiff on some of your songs.

After you played on stage for the county fair in 1985, The Hawkins Post wanted to write a story about the band. You found out at the after party Tiff was having, so of course naturally Eddie was there with Jeff and the other boys too.

"Remember us when you're famous," Gareth joked and the other boys congratulated you in some way, but Eddie's competitive nature compelled him to say "Of course they want to write about it, all you know how to play is the hippie shit everyone loves."

"Don't talk about Fleetwood Mac like that man," Kevin retorted in your defense.

You dismissed his comment, but decided you could start training your voice to sing more like Joan Jett and Cherie Currie anyway. It had always been obvious to your friends why you made the decisions you did, but they knew better than to bring it up.

You thought he might finally be impressed during your senior year when the Queens of Noise started playing at the Hideout on Thursday nights and you consistently had a bigger crowd than Corroded Coffin did on Tuesdays.

"No surprise that the drunks of Hawkins would rather watch a bunch of girls on stage than listen to real music," Eddie claimed.

He loved to taunt you over the songs you chose to play, insisting that his metalhead preferences were better than the covers you did of Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, The Runaways, Pat Benatar and Blondie.

Although you and Eddie would never call each other a "friend," you were nearly always around each other. You even had to endure two extra years of high school with him because he refused to apply himself to academics. Your bandmates had gotten close over the years, bonding naturally over shared interests and participating in healthy competition any opportunity you got. Eddie had a good relationship with all the girls except you, who appeared to be a perpetual thorn in his side. It was fine because he was the exact same to you.

The other members of your bands could still give their all to the band while supporting and cheering for the other but you and Eddie, both as stubborn as you are, could almost never put the aggression of competition aside.

Jeff and Tiff were close as siblings, Sarah and Gareth finally took their flirtation and secret hookups to the next step and told everyone they were dating in '86, and even Heather, Jess and Kevin were close because they lived in the same neighborhood. All of that was great, except that it meant you had to run in to Eddie all the time at parties, movies, or the other's shows.

"For someone who doesn't like me, it seems like you're one of our biggest fans," he'd mock you when they got off stage.

"I just came to keep Sarah company asshole," you respond with rolled eyes.

"Whatever you say Y/N," he'd joke as he walked away from you.

It seemed like you'd had a version of that conversation after every show you went to.

Just like going to their nights at the Hideout, you'd been roped in to many movie nights at Jeff and Tiff's house before, and stopped being surprised when often times Eddie would join as well. It typically ended with you two in some type of disagreement about the movie being good or not, since Eddie considered himself such a movie critic.

It wasn't always that bad though. Eddie is the type of guy who always noticed when your drink was empty and was quick to get you another. He'd stepped in several times to say "Hey man, she said she's not interested," when drunk assholes harassed one of you at the bar or parties. You noticed he would always seem to stick close by after something like that happened.

"A tad flat tonight babe," Eddie announced to you after forcing the heavy back door of the bar open to join you in the alley after a show one night.

"Not right now Eddie, I'm not in the mood," you attempted to brush him off.

"What's wrong, can't take a little constructive criticism?" he taunted.

You scoffed and turned your back to him, hoping he'd take the hint and leave you alone. But Eddie is not very good at leaving you alone.

He circled around to face you, dropping his head to meet your eyes when he noticed the smudged mascara under your lashes and clear glassiness in your eyes.

"Whoa whoa, what happened?" he said, bringing a hand to your shoulder. But you look away from him, unable to meet the concerned expression on his face.

When you don't answer, he jumped to conclusions.

"Did some asshole say something to you?" he questioned you, "other than me?"

How is it that he can make you laugh at a time like this? As small and delicate as your little laugh was, it shot something much stronger to Eddie's core.

All you could do was nod, feeling silly in his presence for letting something like that get to you. You noticed Eddie's jaw clench when he raised his head and turned it to look behind you toward the door.

"What guy? What's he wearing?" Eddie asked.

You didn't want to answer. You didn't want him to do something irrational or even get hurt because of you.

"No Eddie," you whispered.

"Tell me Y/N," he demanded.

"Okay, he's sitting at the end of the bar wearing a white collared shirt."

You'd barely finished before Eddie tore off in the direction of the bar. You stayed out there another minute or two collecting yourself and wiping your eyes clean of makeup.

To this day you're not certain what happened. But when you got back to the group, the guy at the end of the bar was gone, Eddie had a bag of ice from the bartender on his right hand, and your friends didn't say a word about it.

He punched a guy out once when he came on too strong to Jess after a gig and now you know he'd done the same for you even though the two of you barely ever saw eye to eye.

You found yourself in the smoke circle with Eddie at every party and he'd always let you take the first hit of a bowl. He'd let you bum a cigarette behind the bar or outside of school any time you asked and would light it for you sometimes even though you never once asked him to do that. The groups would get together to go to movies and concerts sometimes, all piling in to Eddie's van and carpooling to the city.

"Ah ah ah, what's she doing here?" Eddie asked, eyes darting to you. He can't resist an opportunity to torment you.

"Come on Eddie, you know Y/N's part of the group just as much as we are," Jess defends.

"I'm the one who told you all about this concert in the first place, Munson!" you argue.

"Can't you two please behave just for one night?" Gareth asks from his spot behind Sarah, head hanging over her shoulder. She nods in agreement.

You and Eddie hold eye contact for a few moments, considering all of your options.

"I will if he does," you bite as everyone begins to pile into the van.

The groups' eyes trail to where Eddie towers over you, watching from their seats in the back of the van.

"Fine," he answers, "after you," motioning for you to take a seat inside so he can close the back door. You move to climb in and can't help but gasp silently when you feel his hand under yours gently squeeze to help lift you into the van. But when you look back to him once you're seated, he's already slamming the door shut and turning his back to you to walk around to the driver's seat.

He left you alone the rest of the night, but there were a couple of times you shared quick glances from where you danced with the girls and he was standing behind the group nodding along to the music. You almost thought you could even make out a smile on his lips. But that was wiped from your memory the second he looked away from you and back to the stage.

Sometimes you could swear you caught him looking at you across the room with a look that wasn't hateful. Sometimes he even did things that sent a jolt of warmth to your stomach. But that was quickly diminished every time when Eddie would return his attention to another girl or say something that reminded you of his disdain for you. You tried so hard to ignore the pangs of jealousy when you saw him with someone under his arm or the flutters in your stomach when he held eye contact with you. All of it just added to your confusion and the frustration you felt towards him grew with every broken gaze.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

That brings you to tonight, Thursday at The Hideout. It's 7:45 and you're getting ready for your weekly show at 8:00. The stage is all set and you're backstage with your girls, putting final touches on makeup and warming up for the performance.

"Shit," you hear Tiff utter under her breath after a snap echoes through the small green room.

"What's wrong Tiff?" Heather asks from her place on the couch.

"My string broke," she announces, stress lacing her voice.

"Shit," the other girls repeat.

"I don't have any extras," Tiff says anxiously.

"Okay, okay, don't panic. I'll be right back," you announce on your way out of the door. You know Eddie's here and maybe he has some extras. You'll just be a little late on stage.

You make your way from the green room behind the stage, into the office and then out to the bar where Eddie is occupying a seat talking to the bartender.

"Eddie," you call out nervously as you approach him.

"Y/N," he returns tensely.

"Do you have any extra guitar strings with you?"

"Other than the ones that are strung to my electric, no. Sorry sweetheart."

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, secretly shuttering at the nickname but turning away from him and leaning your elbows on the bar, attempting to come up with another solution.

Eddie eyes your slumped figure and brows that are furrowed in contemplation.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"Tiff's string broke and we're obviously supposed to be playing in a few," you motion to the stage.

"Ah, that is quite the pickle you're in," he teases you, his mind calculating what you'll ask him next.

You think of something and sigh, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for what you're about to ask.

"Eddie...." you begin.

"Yes dear?" he mocks.

"Can we borrow your electric guitar? Pretty please," you utter with monotone.

Eddie exhales, puffing his lips and eyeing you sarcastically.

"That's a pretty big favor to ask without a cherry on top," he jokes. "Ask me again like you mean it." He says with squinted eyes examining you. He loves having power over you, there's no way he'll relent this easy. He'll make you beg a little first because he's reveling in the pouty expression on your face right now.

"Eddie please," you swallow your pride and begin, "if you care about me in any way at all, can I pretty please with a cherry on top borrow your guitar that I know is in the back of your van right now anyway?"

He fake considers for a moment, prolonging your torture.

“And what makes you think I care about you?” he asks, seriously.

“You're right, nothing. I wouldn't dream of you having any type goodwill towards me," he smiles at your response, quite satisfied with it. "But if you like me even just a little. I mean, not like me. but if you think I deserve any amount of kindness - "

"What'll you give me if I do?" he interrupts.

"Anything!" you shout impulsively, "Anything you want." You regret that instantly while considering all of the things he could ask of you.

"Jesus Christ babe, yes if you're that desperate, you can borrow my guitar."

You sigh, relieved, trying to ignore the twisting feeling the pet name causes inside you. Eddie stands from his seat and moves past you to the door to go retrieve the guitar from his van.

You stand, slightly in place as you awe at the fact that you just successfully asked Eddie Munson for a favor, and he said yes.

"You okay in there there?" he asks from his place a few feet away from you, interrupting your thought and grabbing your attention with a small wave in front of your face.

"Yes, Munson, I'm fine," snapping back to your normal self and rolling your eyes at him.

Eddie smirks, he secretly loves when you call him that.

“Good. For a second there I thought you might be in love with me or something," he jokes before turning around to make his way out of the door.

You curse yourself for not being able to think of a witty response and wait by the bar for the few minutes it takes him to return.

He hands you the guitar. "If you return her with even a scratch - "

"I know I know, you'll have my head," you interrupt jokingly, as you grab the instrument from him and turn hurriedly to leave for the girls backstage, not thinking of the many ways he could interpret that.

You return his guitar the same night with no mention of what he wants for his payment. He'd briefly considered asking for a kiss just to torture you, but quickly decided against that thinking it would be too much like the creeps who hit on you girls at the bar all the time. Eddie was not actually interested in coercing you into anything.

So Eddie decided to drop it, not wanting to hold anything over your head or make you feel like you owe him anything.

But a few days later, he opened his van door to find the new Dio and Judas Priest tapes he'd been wanting from the music store but hadn't bought yet with a note that simply said "thank you," in your scribbly writing that he recognized from class. You'd noticed him eyeing those tapes during your shift at the store and thought two tapes with your employee discount was the least you could do to thank him for saving your show.

Eddie smiles to himself at the thought of you doing something nice for him, even going as far as breaking in to his van to keep it a surprise. He chuckles to himself, thinking how out of character it was for you to do something sweet for him. Maybe, he thought, she feels the same. But he dismisses the thought as soon as it enters his mind. No, we're just even now. Nothing's changed, returning to his normal train of thought and strengthening his resolve to continue treating you as he always has.

Neither one of you ever bring it up again, but you have hope that maybe things are different between you now.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

The following Saturday was special because the band that was scheduled to play at The Hideout canceled and Sarah and Gareth convinced the owner to let Corroded Coffin and The Queens of Noise play back to back to fill in.

It was a big deal for both groups. You'd been playing Tuesdays and Thursdays for years, but a Saturday is different. Saturdays are for big groups, sometimes even from other cities. There's always a bigger crowd and one of the bands who used to play on Saturdays at The Hideout are on a small nationwide tour now.

Best of all, you'd be able to be there for each other's big moments front and center on the floor while the other group played on stage.

You and the girls practiced every day after work in preparation and even agreed to skip work the Friday before to finalize the details and make sure everything was clean and perfect. You all agreed on your strongest songs and put together a set you were really proud of. You were even going to debut a Blondie song that you've put your own spin on to see how the crowd likes it.

On Saturday, you and the others all arrived in the afternoon to begin setting up and warming up. You shared the green room backstage and it felt like any other night you all got together at Jeff and Tiff's. Gareth and Sarah were draped over each other on the couch, Jeff was playing some card game with Kevin and Heather, Tiff was tuning her guitar in the corner with Eddie who was strumming along to something, and you were sat at the vanity with Jess, sharing a joint for your nerves and deciding when to start your makeup and hair.

"Let me get a hit of that please," Tiff requests and so you bring the joint to her in the corner, holding it to her lips. After she takes a drag, you offer it to Eddie and he accepts quietly with a raise of his eyebrows. You let him keep it because you figure he'll want more than just on hit.

The boys were scheduled to start at 8:00 and then you would follow them at 9:00.

It was 7:00 when you broke the silent calm that had fallen over the room.

"Shouldn't we do a toast or something?" you suggest, "I mean this is kind of a huge fucking deal." You can't help the nervous laugh that falls from your lips after the realization hits you.

"We should," Jeff agrees, "we're playing a FUCKING SATURDAY SHOW!"

The group erupts in shouts, hollering cheers and praise for the situation you've found yourselves in.

"Okay then let's circle up," Sarah says as she jumps off the couch, pulling her arms around the two standing closest to her.

The nine of you circle up in the middle of the room, wrapping arms around each other and huddling together. Eddie stands across from you, gazing down at your excitement as he pops the cork out of the complimentary bottle of champagne left for your group and spraying the foam over all of you in the center of the circle.

"We all drink," he declares, pulling the bottle to his lips and taking a long pull of the lukewarm wine before dropping his head back down and returning his gaze to you.

He extends his arm, handing you the bottle. You accept it with an appreciative smile and take your pull.

"To...." Eddie begins, unsure of how to make a toast. "To us!" he shouts when you take your drink.

"To us!" the others chant in chorus.

"To us," you say when you finish your sip and pass the bottle to Gareth on your right.

Everyone passed the the bottle until it was empty, and then it was time for the boys to go on stage.

While the boys played, you and the girls were front and center to the stage moving to the music with each other and getting the crowd excited. You usually sang along but tonight you were trying to resist the urge so you could save your voice. Their music buzzed through the amps and speakers plugged in around them, vibrating in your chest. You danced and swayed with your friends to get yourself warmed up for your show.

The stage at The Hideout is just a platform that's elevated about three feet. If you're standing at the front of the crowd, you're still close enough in height to whoever's on stage that you can interact, something you've taken advantage of many times in the past while on stage and in the crowd.

From your angle below, the boys were backlit by the stage lights and covered in a warm halo that illuminated their forms. You couldn't deny how beautiful Eddie looked on stage. A natural performer, a personality that shined up there. You secretly ached at the thought that he seemed sweet and flirty with everyone but you.

The boys were great during their set. Of course they always were. But you enjoyed tonight more than any other night because it felt like they all were glad that you were there. There was such little animosity coming from Eddie that you almost thought he wanted you to be there instead of just accepting your presence. You even caught his glance a few times from your place below them.

During their last song, you had to leave the crowd and get backstage to take their place, but you were able to see the last song from the side stage. Gareth and Jess and agreed to use the same drum set, so all you had to do was walk out with your instruments, get Sarah's keyboard, and adjust the mics to be ready.

Suddenly you were wracked with nerves.

After their last song, you all cheered and whistled at the top of your lungs from the side stage so they could hear you over the rest of the crowd. You saw Gareth blow a kiss to Sarah and a blush creep up Kevin's neck.

"Thank you," you hear Eddie on the mic. "We are Corroded Coffin." Another cheer from the crowd. "Now please welcome our Queens of Noise."

Our Queens of Noise.

The possession in Eddie's words rung in your ears and froze you in place.

The boys were approaching you as they exited the stage. Kevin patted Heather's back in encouragement, Jeff hugged Tiff off the ground and told her to get out there, Gareth did his handshake with Jess before twirling Sarah off the ground and setting her down with a kiss.

Eddie spun Heather around and then moved toward you. He was glistening with a thin layer of sweat and his smile was contagious. His chest was heaving with breath and his delicious musky smell surrounded you as he casually enveloped your head in one of his arms and whispered "your turn" against the top of your head. Then you felt him release your head and his other hand on the small of your back nudged you forward. He was so relaxed, as if this was not the first time he's ever embraced you.

Yeah, things were definitely different now.

You took a step forward and shook off the surprise that had overcome you.

You were on fire during your set. You could feel your diaphragm tighten in your stomach as your sang deep, bellowing notes. In between your verses or the chorus, you'd dance back to back with Heather or Tiff, twirl and sway in the middle of the stage, shimmy to Jess in the back on drums and blow kisses to Sarah at her place on keys. Your stage presence was something you were proud of.

You noticed the boys squeeze their way to the front of the stage with their drinks during the third song, all nodding along and praising you all in their own boyish way. You think this is probably the closest Eddie's ever watched one of your gigs, and try to act unfazed by his closeness.

The last song of the set was your new one. You'd only sang it in rehearsal. Never in front of a crowd and never in front of Eddie.

You took a few deep steadying breaths before nodding at Tiff to begin her riff. You nodded along to the beat from her, Heather and Jess, closed your eyes and took a breath before singing the first line.

Once had love and it was a gas. It soon turned out, I had a heart of glass.

The crowd responded well, singing along and screaming for you.

You heard a loud whoop from Jeff with hands cuffed around his mouth and even a shout from Eddie.

During the break when Sarah took over with a keyboard solo, you take a moment to breathe and dance to the music from your friends around you. Below you, the boys were passing out shots and you notice Eddie raising one above his head, intended for you.

You squat to his level to accept it, offering him a quick clink as a cheers before standing, knocking back the shot, and jumping back in for the rest of the song.

Eddie thinks it might be the hottest thing he's ever seen. He swallows a gulp that rose in his chest and exhales deeply.

The crowd erupts into a chorus of cheers and praise on your last note and you inhale sharply to regain your breath. You smile into the mic and say thank you to the people in front of you. You gather with the other girls in the middle of the stage and bow while they cheer for you before turning to exit the stage.

Eddie calls your name from where he's standing by the corner of the stage as you walked down the stairs on the side.

You walk over to him, your heart pounding from the adrenaline in your system from the show and also from the look Eddie was giving you. He looked so good standing there with the stage light behind him and rush from their set still evident in his eyes. Maybe this is it, you think.

He exhales as you approach him like he had been holding his breath.

"That was great," he admits, his eyes taking in your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths and your post-stage glow.

"Yeah right Eddie," you scoff, rolling your eyes and turning away from him towards the bar. You're so used to his insults that you can't even register him being sincere.

He catches your wrist and spins you back toward him. You collide with him, bringing your free hand to his chest to steady yourself and look down to where he is holding your wrist between your bodies.

"I'm serious," he breathes, eyes trained down at where you stand pressed against him.

He towers over you with a look in his eyes that you don't recognize. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can't think of what to say.

"You were amazing up there tonight," he continues, "I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

Your lips part at his words and your insides twist. Every thought has left your brain as you stare up at him. His eyes are so inviting that it makes you forget all the things you'd planned to say to him for years when he finally admitted that you impressed him. Your gaze falls to his lips just for a second and you allow yourself a selfish moment to indulge as you imagine what he would taste like if you leaned in and just kissed him right now.

Your fallen eyes don't go unnoticed by Eddie.

Eddie begins to dip his lower to you when you're interrupted.

"Y/N, come on, the boys are buying us a round," Sarah says from behind you before crashing clumsily into your back, placing her arms on your waist and peeking around your shoulder to kiss your cheek, completely missing Eddie's expression and the moment that was unfolding in front of her.

She pulls you back and your wrist is freed from Eddie's grasp but you don't break your eye contact with him until she spins you around to face Heather, Tiff, and Jess who came along to collect you.

"What was that about?" Heather whispers in your ear as you're pulled into the group's embrace.

"I don't know," you whisper in response. But you think you might.

"He looked like he was going to eat you up," Tiff jokes, well aware of the implications in her tone.

You secretly wished he would. But you swallowed that feeling into your stomach, convincing yourself that there was no way he felt that way about you.

The girls giggle around you as they make their way to the bar to celebrate. You accepted drink after drink handed to you that night, but you weren't able to fully celebrate. Not when Eddie didn't follow you back to the group. Not when Eddie had looked at you that way. Not when you weren't sure what you were feeling in your stomach. Not when you could be putting yourself in the most vulnerable place you've been in in years. And especially not when you could be exposing yourself to someone who you're certain couldn't return the feelings you're having.

You didn't see much of Eddie after that Saturday at The Hideout. You went to your job at the music store every day thinking he may turn up, but he never did. He gave you the cold shoulder on his way out of the door when you tried to say something to him at their show on Tuesday and he wasn't at yours that Thursday. Avoiding you, you thought to yourself and tried to swallow the feeling that it elicited from your gut. Of course he was. How could you have been so stupid to hope something was there?

What you didn't know is that Eddie was hiding from you, worried that he'd revealed too much to you that night at The Hideout. Part of him wanted to reveal more to you. But he wasn't even sure himself what he felt for you. So until he figured it out, he was doing the safe thing and staying away from you. Except this coming Thursday because he agreed to cover for the bartender at the bar, so there's no way he could skip your show.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

You went back and forth between being certain the way he'd looked at you after the show was out of desire and thinking the way he was holding your wrist firmly was out of hating having to admit that you put on a good show. But either way, the taste you'd had having of him close to you was not enough.

So when Sarah told you at Sunday's practice in Heather's garage that the boys would definitely be at your show on Thursday, you couldn't help but ask "all of them?" sheepishly.

"I think so, why?" she asks, giving you a probing smile with raised eyebrows.

"No reason," you shrug off. "Think you ladies would be up to learning a new song for Thursday?"

They agree, exchanging knowing glances to each other as they took their places.

On Thursday, you arrived through the back of the bar so you didn't see Eddie until you were on stage. You could feel his eyes on you from his spot behind the bar but you refused to lift your gaze to him. He'd been giving you the cold shoulder for over a week and two could play at that game. Besides, your song choices for the night were bold and you thought you might chicken out if you saw anything in his eyes that changed your mind.

You sang I Hate Myself for Loving You and it meant more to you tonight than it ever had before. Your past relationships and meaningless hookups never once crossed your mind when that song came on, but one stupid tall metalhead with stupid brown button eyes and stupid long hair that you want to run your fingers through flashes through your mind every time you've heard it for weeks now.

Jess started playing the beat for your last song and you took a deep breath as you closed your eyes and felt the music surround you. Tiff came in on guitar while Heather and Sarah kept a steady bass line that you're certain was the only thing keeping your heartbeat regular.

We've been here too long, tryin' to get along. Pretending that you're oh so shy, you begin to sing.

You glanced at Eddie behind the bar who was watching you. You wondered if he recognized it yet and if his heart was racing like yours was at the sight of him.

Do you wanna touch, Do you wanna touch, Do you wanna touch me there? Where? There. Yeah! Yeah, oh yeah.

You have to hold the mic with both hands and screw your eyes shut to will yourself to finish the song without looking in Eddie's direction again. When you were done, you said "that's all for tonight, thank you" to your crowd and you quickly exited the stage.

While the other girls went the bar immediately for the post-show shot tradition, you took the opportunity to sneak out back for a quick cigarette, desperate for a moment alone to catch your breath before facing Eddie.

But of course he doesn't allow you that favor.

Eddie watched your attempt at a sneaky escape and followed you out after pouring the other girls their shots on the house and making sure there was no one else at the bar for drinks.

You were standing to the right of the door with your back to the wall when he came out, you had a joint hanging loosely from your lips while you clumsily searched in your pockets for a lighter. You'd realized in seconds that you didn't have one, but you were still using that as your excuse not to look up at him.

Eddie reached his arm to you with his lit zippo, raising it to your lips. You leaned in with your hands cupping the end of the joint, allowing the flame to light it and take a deep hit immediately.

You finally lift your eyes to meet Eddie's. He's staring hot daggers in to you. You swallow the feeling growing in your throat, becoming acutely aware that neither of you have said anything yet.

"You sing that just for me?" Eddie asks, taking a dangerous step closer to you.

"What?"

Eddie tilts his head in frustration, squinting his eyes at you. Annoyed, he snatches the joint from in between your lips and tosses it to the ground, ashing it with his toe. He can't believe the capacity you have to bother him.

"You heard me," he says, bending at his hips so he's eye to eye with you, lifting his hands to either side of your face and caging you into the wall.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your insides twist into a knot and your legs feel like they're melting. He hovers above you, your lips only parted by a few inches. His face is tilted towards you and he's drinking you in, reveling in the way your eyes fluttered shut and your chest began to heave.

"I," you whisper unsurely. "Yes, I did."

"And yes I do," Eddie breathes before moving forward, admitting the answer to the question you were asking with your song and crashing into your lips.

He brings his left hand to cradle your cheek and uses his right to grab your waist and pin you to the wall. You ball his shirt in your fists to pull him flush against you before reaching your arms to rest on his shoulders and wrap around him, sending one hand to the nape of his neck and feeling his hair between your fingers.

"God, I hate you," you whimper as Eddie breaks from your lips to suck sloppy kisses into your neck.

"No you don't," he murmurs with confidence just below your ear before returning to your lips.

"No I don't," you repeat into his lips.

You part your lips for him, allowing Eddie to slip his tongue inside. "You drive me fucking crazy Y/N," he utters into your mouth and you mewl in response.

His tongue moves smoothly with yours and he tastes like the shot of whiskey that he took just before following you out here. He was warm against you, both your chests breathing heavily between you. Eddie trails his hands all over your body in exploration. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat with how hard it was fluttering against your ribcage.

You realized what you felt pushing against your stomach is his hardened cock swollen against his jeans and you moan into his mouth, clenching your thighs together at the thought of him filling you up and becoming aware of the wetness pooling between your legs.

The noise drives Eddie wild. He reaches down, sweeping his large hand down your waist, over your hip and to the back of your thigh. He grips the dough of your thigh and hikes it up, hooking it around his middle and lining your warm center up with his throbbing erection. You gasp at the sudden friction you didn't realize you were aching for. It's just a taste of what he could give you. You feel his lips pull into a smile against yours, knowing the effect he's having on you. You consider giving in to him, right here.

Your mind races with possibilities.

Have I felt this way all along? Has he?

Is this how it will be from now on? Does he want that too?

What if he doesn't? He definitely doesn't. He doesn't know how much it would mean to you.

What if it's just this one time? You'd never survive that.

"Wait," you say, breaking your kiss and catching your breath. Eddie rests his forehead against yours, ready to jump back in whenever you're ready. "I can't."

"Why not baby?" he whispers against your lips, hot breath fanning over you.

Baby. It sends a fluttering to your stomach. Your heart aches. You want him.

"I'm scared Eddie." Your eyes are closed.

"Scared of me?" He pulls away and straightens in front of you.

"No," you open your eyes to see the pained expression that paints his face. You want to kiss it off. You bring your hand to cup his cheek and he leans in to it. "I'm just really scared of getting hurt," you feebly admit. Eddie is silent for a moment. You pull your hand from his cheek and hug it to your middle. His silence scares you and he stays silent for just a second too long. You turn to the direction of the parking lot and take one step, then another.

"No I would never - " he tries to assure you but he was a second too late. You're already walking away from him.

When Eddie returned inside without you, he was met with the barrage of worried faces of his friends.

"Where's Y/N?" Jess asked, stating the thing that was obviously on everyone's mind from the kissed out look of Eddie's lips that were swollen and stained slightly with the color you'd been wearing.

"She uh..." Eddie trailed off with his face turned to the side, unable to meet the concerned looks in their eyes. "She left."

A choir of questions sprang from their mouths.

"She left?" Heather asked quietly, dread tugging in her stomach knowing something must have happened.

"What did you do to her man?" Jeff asked at the same time.

But Eddie didn't answer. He knocked back a shot from the bar and walked away from the group, the sting of rejection still too fresh inside him to discuss it any further with the group while he was fighting the negative feels rising in his gut.

The group watched as he approached a table of girls across the room, and couldn't help the groans that they sighed out in unison with rolled eyes, realizing how completely unprepared they were for the fallout that was sure to follow Eddie's agonizing attempt to nurse his ego.

You drove home in tears, shaking from the sudden absence of Eddie you felt and sickness churning your stomach as you played the events back in your head. The shock eventually wore off and your tears slowed to a stop, but the nausea remained until you fell asleep that night, unsure if you did the right thing or made the biggest mistake of your life.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

You called out of work the next day, allowing yourself one day to wallow in self pity since you were now leaning more towards thinking you made a huge mistake. It seemed like your lips still tingled from the pressure of his kiss, your body felt hollow without his touch and you longed to feel it again. Your heart ached every time your mind betrayed you and flashed the memory of his wounded expression through your mind.

It wasn't until Saturday morning that the girls showed up to your house, forcing themselves in to confront your sullen state. You were asleep when they opened your door.

Heather climbed into bed beside you and mirrored your position on your side, bringing her forehead to yours and tracing a soft finger down your nose to wake you up.

Jess sat at the edge of your bed with a caring hand placed on your exposed calf and Sarah hovered behind her with her head hung over Jess's shoulder.

You took count of your friends as your blurry vision cleared before realizing one was missing, rolling over on your back to see Tiff with her head hung low to meet your eyes and hands on her hip. "Good morning," she greeted briefly, "now spill."

You sat up a scooted closer to Heather, making room for Tiff to slide into bed on your other side. Sarah and Jess sat at the foot of your bed, crossed legged and facing you, both clutching one of your excess pillows for comfort.

It feels like you've been in a variation of this arrangement a hundred times before, either cuddling or being cuddled by your girls while you or the other works out their problem. It feels the same as it has since you were little girls. Like nothing has changed in the decade you've all been taking turns crowding into each others rooms, only this time something has changed. Something huge.

You don't hate Eddie Munson at all. You love him.

You were afraid that he wouldn't feel the same, that he'd only planned to be with you once and things we be the same between you after.

But now you were more afraid of never having him at all.

When the girls left, you decided you'd suppress your fear and just call him. But when you heard to the dial tone for the eighth time, you hung up with a huff and looked up to your ceiling to choke back the tears that threatened to fall.

On Monday, you knew that he'd be at Gareth's for their practice. Sarah gave you the number for his garage phone and when you called, Gareth answered.

"Hello?" Gareth asked on the other end, kindness always evident in his voice.

"Gareth hey, it's Y/N."

"Y/N?" he asked, thoroughly surprised.

"Yeah," you said with your eyes screwed shut, "listen, is Eddie there?"

"Eddie?" Gareth asks, and you can hear him shift on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah," you say, embarrassed while you wait.

You hear unclear whispering in the receiver, mumbling from definitely more than one person.

"Um, sorry Y/N," Gareth returns, his voice dripping with uncertainty, "he's not here."

You gulp down the lump in your throat, knowing there's no way he's not there.

"Okay," you sigh, defeated. "Would you just let him know I called?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him you called."

"Thanks Gareth." And you hang up.

You thought about going to their show Tuesday, but the dread that filled you when the time came was enough to keep you away. If he was avoiding you, you didn't want to make it worse by forcing him to see you. Not yet.

So on the next Saturday when you saw Eddie passing in front of the music store window during your shift to get to Family Video next door, you blinked first to make sure you weren't imaging it. But before you could understand it, your legs seemed to be carrying you towards him while your brain was yelling at you to turn around.

You ran quickly from behind the counter, leaving customers alone in the store and you threw open the door, flying out of it and running after him before he could get inside the other store.

"Eddie!" you shout at his back.

He pauses, shoulders tense in his leather jacket as he stands up straight. He hesitates for a few seconds, making you afraid that he won't turn around at all.

But he does. And the stony look on his face makes you wish he hadn't. His brows are knitted together in a furrow and his lips are pushed together in a tight line.

"What do you want?" Eddie says, so calm that it unnerves you.

When you don't answer right away, he shakes his head slightly and sticks a hand out like you're inconveniencing him.

"Something you want to say?" he asks, his eyes staring at you, annoyed by your silence.

"Yeah, I.." you choke on your words.

"You what Y/N?" Eddie scolds, his eyes squinted at you the way they used to when he looked at you. Before. "Your stash running low? Need to buy an ounce? Someone's instrument is broken and you need to borrow one? Your car's not starting and I need to fix it?" His tone is getting more and more exasperated.

You can't form any words. All you can do is stand there and accept him berating you. His words hurt and your lower lip begins to tremble.

"Because unless it's one of those things, I don't know what you could possibly be talking to me for."

When Eddie finishes, he turns and walks away. You exhale and a tear spills over your eyelashes and down your cheek.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

"He hates me," you say on the phone to Sarah when you get back behind the counter at work.

"I don't know, Y/N I think maybe he's just hurt you know?" Sarah attempts to soothe.

You disagree.

"Listen Y/N," you hear Gareth say distantly in the receiver before a shuffle on the other end. "I've known Eddie a long time okay?" His voice becomes more clear. "And he's not very good at this kind of thing. He'd much rather avoid his problems than deal with them and right now that's you."

"Oh thanks a lot Gareth, I feel so much better," you joke.

"Not his problem," he says. "I mean... the problem is he feels rejected, like you don't feel the same about him."

You heart drops.

"What do you mean the same about him?" you scream.

"Shit," Gareth curses under his breath, "I've said too much."

"You're gonna have to say a little more," you threaten.

"Well, we all know it, Y/N" Gareth explains, "he's always teased you and stuff because he loves to get a rise out of you. I can tell he has feelings for you. The whole hating you thing was always an act because he got off on the wrong foot when we were kids and he kept it up because didn't know what else to do."

You can't believe what you're hearing. His words ring in your ears like a squealing amp and your breathing picks up.

"Oh my god," you whisper, dropping the phone while you try to grasp what Gareth has just told you.

"Gareth, why the hell have you never told me that?" you faintly hear Sarah reprimand him on the other end of the phone.

"Um, okay okay," you catch back up, "Gareth can you please just make sure he comes to our set on Thursday?"

"I don't know, it'll be really hard to convince him."

"Just do it!" you and Sarah yell in unison before you slam the receiver down.

You know what you have to do. You lost your words when you tried to talk to him so you just have to find someone who's already written the words for you.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

When Thursday came, you were hopeful things might work out. You took deep breaths in the mirror as you got dressed for your show at The Hideout. You were sure of your feelings now and you'd make Eddie see, one way or another.

Gareth came to you and Sarah on Monday to say that there was no way in hell he could get Eddie to the entire show on Thursday, so you devised a plan to get him there in time for the last two songs. So you knew you had to make the last two count.

You'd felt like you were floating through the entire day, like a puppet going through the steps of a routine, legs carrying you places without you thinking about it.

So when you found yourself in the green room before your set, the gravity of the situation finally started to set in as time inched closer and closer. Your stomach twisted into knots and your mouth went dry.

The girls noticed the shift in your spirit immediately and came to you with hugs and enough encouragement that your doubt was replaced again and you felt good enough to take the stage.

Your set went by in what felt like just a few minutes. You had your normal crowd at the tables and some in the standing space in front of the stage, including the three attending boys of Corroded Coffin. You silently wished time to slow down, you were so nervous for what was coming. So when you were playing your fifth song, Sarah nodded to Gareth who snuck away to the phone.

He dialed Eddie's number from memory and waited eagerly for an answer.

"Hello?" his friend answered. Gareth let out a sigh of relief.

"Hey man," Gareth began, "Do you think you could come get me and the boys? Jeff's car isn't starting."

"Uh yeah I guess, where are you?" It was a dumb question. He knew where they were.

"The Hideout," Gareth said with eyes closed and teeth gritted in suspense as he waited for Eddie's answer.

"Shit, it's Thursday isn't it?" Eddie cursed into the receiver.

"Yeah man, but they're almost done with the set so you don't have to stay or anything. And we'll wait outside for you," Gareth lied. He was trying to time it perfectly for Eddie to arrive for the last two songs and have to come inside when they weren't waiting outside for him.

"Alright alright, I'm leaving now."

"Thanks man, see you in a few," Gareth silently celebrated in place as he hung up the phone and made his way back to his friends for the last of your set.

It was almost perfect. You looked around the room but didn't see Eddie when Jess tapped the count off for Heaven Is a Place on Earth with her sticks and you had to start singing the first chorus. You try to ignore the worry that he won't come growing inside you and sing the song, closing your eyes for the first verse.

When the night falls down I wait for you, and you come around.

When you finished the first verse, you opened your eyes and see him. He was standing at the very back of the room with his back against the wall. It looked like he had just walked into the door and he wasn't planning on coming any closer. He kept his lips pulled together in a tight line, his head head slouching against the wall and he looked at you through hooded eyes.

You smiled as you continued the song, happy that your plan had worked. You couldn't help yourself and met his gaze as you sang baby, I was afraid before but I'm not afraid anymore, hoping he understood to true meaning behind the lyrics.

When the song ended, Gareth followed your gaze and saw Eddie standing at the back of the room. Eddie met his eyes and gestures for him to get the others and leave. Gareth is shaking his head rapidly at Eddie, refusing to leave. You knew you had to act fast.

You cleared your throat into the mic. Eddie stops motioning to Gareth and his attention snaps back to you.

"We have one more for you tonight, and it's new for us but I'm sure you'll recognize it." You pause for a few cheers from the audience. "It's um... for someone special who made it tonight," you murmur into the mic. "I hope they know who they are." The room falls mostly silent, spare a few whispers you can hear among the crowd.

"I think maybe a few of you do," you joke into the mic, hearing comfortable laughter fill the room. And with that, you nod at Tiff to begin the music.

There's a few seconds of music before you have to come in with lyrics, so you use them to take deep breaths and when you glance at Eddie, you notice he's already moved a little closer. There's no going back now, you think. So you close your eyes and start singing.

Tonight, I want to give it all to you. In the darkness, there's so much I want to do. And tonight, I want to lay it at your feet. 'Cause boy, I was made for you and boy, you were made for me.

You looked up to see that Eddie has moved to his friends and he's watching you. His expression has slightly softened and you think you can maybe even see a grin painting his face in the dim light.

I was made for lovin' you, baby. You were made for lovin' me. And I can't get enough of you, baby. Can you get enough of me?

You sing directly to him, holding his gaze that's he's trying to intimidate you with. He won't win because you're not scared anymore. He's the first to break your eye contact, turning his head when Jeff nudges him and he begins nodding along with his friends.

Tonight, I want to see it in your eyes, feel the magic, there's something that drives me wild. And tonight, we're gonna make it all come true. 'Cause boy, you were made for me and boy, I was made for you.

You continued singing, moving your body to the music on stage for him, but your eyes never wandered far from where he stood in front of you.

Eddie exhaled the breath he was holding in, giving in to his weakness for you as he watched your electricity on stage. Someone passed him a shot. He downed it without even stopping to ask what it was, smiling at the stranger and thanking them. He needed it for his nerves. He was not sure what he was going to do when you finished singing.

I was made for lovin' you, baby. You were made for lovin' me And I can give it all to you, baby. Can you give it all to me?

You draw out your last note slightly, and breathe deep with a heaving chest when your song ends. You smile at the applause, lower your head back to the clapping crowd and see Eddie weaving his way through the people to the front of the crowd at the stage, to you.

Your heart thumps at the sight of him coming towards you. Just as he approaches the stage, you bend at your knees and come down closer to his level. You're hovering just inches above him at this height, his head is turned up only slightly to meet your eyes.

Neither of you say anything as the crowded room is cheering around you. Eddie stares at you from his place beneath you and the heat flushes you, pink rising from your chest and into your neck.

Almost instinctively, Eddie surges forward and you meet him without second thought, bringing your empty hands to either side of his face.

You kiss him with desperation, as if you could kiss away the agony of the last week, as if you didn't kiss him like this he would disappear from in front of you forever, like this is your last chance.

The crowd erupts around you, cheers and shouting and applause filling the room. It causes you both to break your kiss because of the huge smile that spreads on both your faces.

"You sing that just for me?" Eddie breathes against you.

"Yes."

"You mean it?" he asks in disbelief.

"Every word," you promise, planting a sweet kiss to his lips as his insides burn up with your love.

Then you feel his hands reach up and grab your ribs. He applies the slightest pressure, telling you to jump, that he'll catch you. And he does. You wrap both arms around his neck and Eddie pulls you off the stage effortlessly. He lowers you with firm hands on your ribcage to straddle your legs around his tall frame and keep your lips trained on him the entire time.

"Yeah you're welcome!" Jeff shouts.

"See you later then? We'll just pack up here!" Jess yells from stage with sarcasm.

"It's about fucking time!"

The whistling and catcalling you hear behind you grow more and more distant as Eddie walks you to the closest door, unwilling to waste another second without his hands all over you. You lift one hand from its place on his back to give them all the bird.

You can thank them later.

[nexility-sims]

🎶 for Julián?

OC DETAILS  /   accepting !

oh hell yeah finally kdfjdf thank you for asking, i had a lot to say !

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

music is julian's main interest, which is unsurprising considering he comes from a musical family ! his mother and father are professional musicians (his mom is kind of a joan baez/stevie nicks/ann wilson figure, and his dad is a carlos santana-esque guitarist). since they were not around much during his childhood, music was a way to connect with them—both when they were around and in their absence. his formal occupation is working for the crown, and he spends a not-insignificant chunk of his free time partying, but listening and playing music is a big part of his life. he had a little cousin band with his brother, damian, and german when they were all teenagers. i don't think they play much together anymore, but julian has enough musician friends that it doesn't matter much (including, of course, their bancroft cousin). if you want him to have more then let me know, open call, give him more friends and such djfdf

the kernel of inspiration for julian as a character came from the fact that i like incubus and have always thought brandon boyd circa the early 2000s was hot. so, anyway, i associate julian with the alternative rock genre, with acoustic guitars, with vulnerable songwriting. he likes folk music, which is the genre his parents got their start in. but, he really is someone who appreciates every genre, from those to hip hop to electronica to jazz and blues and everything else. he goes abroad a lot for fun and leisure, and part of those trips are definitely attending concerts and open mics and things like that, to enjoy the local music scenes and popular venues.

julian collects records and guitars, and he will probably inherit all of his parents' someday. he has a good singing voice, picked up instruments easily as a child, and plays multiple well; that’s just as fun for him, practicing with different ones, as stringing together lyrics or listening to music. i don’t think he really likes using headphones or earbuds if he can play songs from a speaker instead. i assume he has a publicly available spotify account or whatever with just hundreds of playlists. he's never released any music of his own, but there are lots of videos circulating around of him performing, usually with friends or on his son's social media. his house is full of music anytime he’s home, and his son—though more inclined to visual art—shares his love of listening to it.

[myersmaniac]

I love my boyfriend

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader, Billy Hargrove x reader, Eddie Munson x reader ( platonic!)

Tw:cheating

Based on the song: I love my boyfriend by princess Chelsea so you might wanna listen to that before reading!

Part 1

——

You’d been in corroded coffin since middle school, your best friend Eddie playing right by your side. Mostly you played drums but every once in a while you’d sing, you wrote a lot of the songs too.

You and Steve had been dating for about 8 months, you loved him of course and you cared for him at least you said but your actions tended to contradict your word’s because when Billy Hargrove walked in a room alone with you and those pretty blue eyes looked down at you your heart never failed to pound through your chest. You kept telling yourself that it was the last time but it had been the “last time “ five times now. Your lips somehow always found there way onto Billy’s. It was something that you just couldn’t seem to help. He was irresistible to you.

“ you excited about singing tonight babe?” Steve asked leaning against the bathroom door while watching you get ready in the mirror. “ a little nervous but of course I’m excited Stevie.” You replied while lining your eyes with black liner. “ I’ll be rooting you on in the crowd, you know I always do babe.” Steve told you, he completely adored you.

After primping and prodding you and Steve headed to your destination to meet Eddie and the rest of the band. “ I’ll see you on stage, good luck pretty girl” Steve told you then gave you a peck on the cheek, he headed out into the crowd and left you behind the curtain. “ you have to tell him.” Eddie said as soon as he left. You looked up, not wanting to admit you knew exactly what he was talking about. You were in denial yourself, you tried so hard to avoid all the guilt. “ tell him what Ed’s?” You replied. Eddie just looked at you with disappointment. You told Eddie absolutely everything, he’d been your very best friend for as long as you can remember. When you told him about Billy he couldn’t believe it, he told you it was wrong and you needed to stop but it wasn’t his place to get involved and he swore you to secrecy. “ look Eddie, I will it’s just easier said than done.” You finally responded to your best friend.

—-

“ let’s go over the set list one more time, what’s the opening song?” Eddie asked changing the subject. “ your going to kill me for this, it’s the song I wrote about loving Steve but sleeping with billy” you told him. “ I’m not mad, it’s a confession. I just hope Harrington catches on. I’m really disappointed in you.” Eddie responded sternly. “ I know Ed’s, I’m sorry.”

It was time to head onto the stage. When you went out there you saw someone that you definitely weren’t expecting to see, Billy Hargrove right there in the front to watch you. Billy would know the meaning of this song is all you could think but would Steve?

Billy gave you a smirk from the crowd, his arms were crossed against his chest. He looked so entertained already yet you hadn’t even started playing. You felt so torn between these boys. You gave him a nod as if to acknowledge his presence. Right after that Steve blew you a kiss from the crowd. Your stomach churned up, you felt dirty, disgusting and guilty but at the same time you felt adrenaline through your body knowing that both the boys were there to watch you. The show must go on though so you began.

“ wow there’s a lot more people than I expected, I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out to support us. This first song is an original written and sung by myself. It’s called I love my boyfriend so let’s get this show started!” You said as you looked out into the crowd, Steve’s face lit up as the music turned on.

————

When the song was over, you noticed Steve leave to the bathroom but Billy stood cheering loudest in the crowd. You felt like you were being taunted. Eddie looked over at you with no words but the feeling between you two said enough.

[fleetwoodmacarthistory]

i didn’t think i’d have to make this post for a couple more years.

i’ve seen tons of posts and tweets about christine’s musicianship, her transcendent harmonies, her bluesy keyboard parts, her soulful yet unpretentious lyrics, the way that her presence in a mac song elevated it as a whole. which is great. she has always been underrated. but i wanted to talk about her kindness for a minute.

i became an fm fan in 2014, but 2017 was really the best year of my mac love. buckvie was announced, and i couldn’t believe that my favorite singer and my favorite guitarist were making and touring a WHOLE album. i saw buckvie 4 times. the first time, i had a terrible seat. but the other 3 times were up close and magical. 

anyone who knows me knows that christine has always been my favorite mac member. her voice, her presence, her beautiful little face grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. when i had the chance to see buckvie up close (i was right next to the stage thrice), i did everything i could to let her know how loved she was. i couldn’t help staring at her with heart eyes and loudly singing every word. i saw that a member of the crew had made rhinestone “christine fucking mcvie” shirts and made my own tshirt version and wore it to a show, just to make her smile (and she BEAMED). i adored her “i was perfect until i married john” joke and made a sign that said “christine you’re still perfekt to me” (this got another beaming grin from her). from the final show i attended, I waved as she came onstage and got a sweet smile and wave back. when she and lindsey did their whole “how long was christine gone” speech, i shouted “too long!” and she looked me dead in the eyes and said “you’re telling me”. it felt like she appreciated this love, the love that she didn’t always get as much of as stevie and lindsey in the past.

this kindness didn’t just extend to me though. when she signed buckvie vinyl to be sold at the merch table, she drew a little heart on every one. even when she was sick, she would ask fans records to be brought up to her room so she could personally sign them. when autograph hunters would wait outside the venue, she would sign stacks of records, even though these clearly weren’t fans. even when she was tired from the show, she’d roll down her car window and smile and wave at those of us waiting. she would come out onstage holding lindsey’s hand. during gyow, she’d jokingly swing a baseball bat at him, but always hugging him during the encore. and she didn’t miss a show unless she absolutely couldn’t - she would just drop songs that were too hard to play, still putting on a rocking show, determined to not disappoint anyone. 

as her lovely, transformative music is remembered, i just hope her kindness and generosity of spirit are also remembered. i hope she realized the enormity of what she meant to us all. and i hope she is at peace.

(p.s. during these buckvie shows, she always had a cocktail colored like a sunrise set out for her on a stool next to her piano. the perks of being a rockstar!)

[goliraz]

cracker island track by track review

'review' used very loosely. These R the thoughts of a tipsy scouser

got too long so it's hidden; it is mainly critical tbh not because Im negative or mean its just my track by track thoughts and on sound alone this (2 me) was the weakest album they've ever put out

cracker island: if it came on in a club I would dance to it but I don't know if Id be having a great time. The song feels way more redundant than it might actually be because there's only like 1 melody in it. The instrumental melody & the vocals r the same. So IDK it's like. Its definitely technically a song. But it's like the bare minimum of a song

oil: I wish if any of the songs on this album broke from the popsynth fake drums mold it would be this one. The thing about Stevie Nicks is I don't listen to fleetwood mac at all but her voice is so unique and captivating. It crushes me like an anvil on my head that they didn't even let her sing on her own + kept her to a secondary harmony the whole time. This more than any of the other songs would have benefitted from real instruments IMO. The up a perfect fourth down a perfect third hook is catchy & that pattern can't fail it sounds good nomatter what.

the tired influencer: at this point in the album Im starting to wonder why they even bother with the characters playing instruments anymore cos what did noodle do on this album. There's like no guitar at all on the album. All the bass is synth bass. The characters' function in the band/story is getting less & less relevant to the music it annoys me. IDK this song is boring 2 me. Its like if the Fall was overproduced and had nothing 2 say

silent running: this song has always since it came out felt half finished. It's like the basis of a song that's not done IDK I feel like it's missing a component that might make it feel whole. The feature could have been deleted and the song would be the exact same; something I notice about the features on this album except Bootie brown & bad bunny is that they're extremely underutilized to the point where they might not have even been there. Like ur featuring an artist to do a background harmony??? Maybe this song will feel more done & real when I hear the piano version

new gold: 1 of the better ones on the album for me completely because of Bootie brown. Even though they took a rapper who is so strong and good even (especially) live and put his voice through 100million filters and dampened his skill completely. The live version of this one is how I wish it sounded on the album cos the energy of Bootie's part in that saves this song; timing is kind of cool but it's not like. New in any way.

baby queen: if they had changed the presentation of each instrumental in this song they could have made it an 80s synthpop genre piece like aries that would have been 4x better. I wish it wasn't so so so so so so boring to me. It just sounds like all the other songs on the album IG it feels like a filler song to me. Even just better/less smooth tone/effects on the synth wld have been something but suppose not

tarantula: it's catchy but it feels low effort. The lyrics r dumb IDK how else to put it not that they're inherently stupid but they're dumbed down. Compared to sum of their earlier more 'romantic' minded lyrics like every planet + some of the stuff off plastic beach, "if ur good for me and Im good for u then that's all I need in my life" sounds like a 2014 pop lyric geared towards the 11-16 age demographic u feel. Lyrically they've dumbed down their shit so much

tormenta: fine I guess. It's mid reggaeton that's too produced and smooth to even dance to. If it came on in a club compared to most other bad bunny songs I've heard not even the bad bunny fans would dance. It's like. Too slow to be what the only things going for it would suggest it is. The little synth break at around like 2:40 is the prettiest thing in the song to me I wish maybe they had leaned more towards that for tone instead of trying for something the song is just not

skinny ape: the third better song on the album. In terms of like well these are better than the rest. Like it's this new gold and oil I think. Maybe this is the song that feels the most comfortable in what it is. It sounds exactly like 2012 radio pop in the self proclaimed "alternative" genre like grouplove an shit. Like it sounds like 1 song in particular but I cant remember what it is and its driving me fucking mental. Something about it is likeable even though the lyrics are so fucking dumb I wanna tear my ears off. U are not a cartoon G damon u are an embarrassing middle aged geezer

possession island: like if Idaho kind of forgot its poignancy. But there's something really beautiful about the first minute of it. Maybe this is actually one of the better ones too. The further Im getting into it the more Im liking it. I don't see why beck had to be there. It's like the plague of this album they feature someone to literally sing backup. Anyway the further I get in this song the more I like it I think it's my favourite song on this album probably. OK goodbye

addendum: if I listened 2 any of these songs coked out of my mind they'd probably sound fine so maybe I should just save this album 4 those circumstances

[writerchickmarie]

Elegant And Enchanted Evenings With John Lloyd Young At Cafe Carlyle

John Lloyd Young and Cafe Carlyle have a long, magical history together.

He is part of a storied group of artists and performers who have, and continue, to grace the Carlyle stage - a legendary and quintessential part of classic New  York.  

And this past week, JLY celebrated that history while bringing it into the future...elegant, creative, prolific...and more enchanting than ever.  

That future began with his new musical director, Jacquelyn Schreiber, taking her seat at the piano - preparing as JLY was introduced, with him walking from the bar area to the front, and beginning the set with his classic rendition of  “My Prayer”, commanding the stage from the first note. 

He then moved into some new material for this Carlyle residency, making each song his own with his brilliant interpretations. Roy Orbison’s “Love Hurts” is a perfect fit for him, rich and emotional.  And he told some of his wonderful Little Anthony stories as he took us on a journey with “I’m On The Outside Looking In”, which is one of several songs that continue to play in our minds long after the performance.

JLY has mentioned a few times about how much he loves history, so playing the Carlyle and sharing some of its incredible history with the audience is as enjoyable for him as it is for us. He motions around the room to various sections of the incredible murals by Oscar-winning French artist, Marcel Vertès, pointing out certain characteristics and techniques. Then he talks about the the first person to own an apartment/condo at the Carlyle, Richard Rodgers, while musing about the songs that may have been inspired here. It’s the perfect segue into his beautiful, romantic version of “I Have Dreamed” from The King And I.

He blows us away with Stevie Wonder’s “Knocks Me Off My Feet”, then comes around the room to greet and serenade us with “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me”...which is always a thrill.  JLY has a special way of connecting with friends and fans, and new audience members, that puts him in a class by himself.  And we of course get to hear one of our favorites, “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You”, stronger than ever, and complete with audience participation.  

Next up is Nat King Cole’s “Let There Be Love”, featuring Jacquelyn’s extraordinary jazz piano skills and JLY’s luxurious baritone.  They play off each  other well, and the future is bright for this creative partnership.

We head back into Jersey Boys territory - but with a definite jazz influence.  After some of JLY’s entertaining stories about making the Jersey Boys movie, he performs a breathtaking “Moody’s Mood For Love” - forget Frankie and Bob for a minute...at this moment, the line “I need to write for this voice” pertains to JLY and JLY alone.  Creating anything for his wonderful, versatile vocal instrument is something any writer and/or musician would be honored to do.  This is followed up by the always beautiful “My Eyes Adored You”, fresh and new with Jacquelyn on harmony.

JLY explained next that sometimes when he and his fellow Broadway castmates were invited to perform for events, they weren’t given permission to sing the songs from the show - so Ron Melrose, the arranger and musical director for Jersey Boys, came up with a workaround...and one of the songs for this was “I Only Have Eyes For You”, which JLY performed to perfection in this set at Cafe Carlyle.

The next two songs were absolute standouts (even though every song in the set remains in my head at various times throughout the day) because of JLY’s ingenious vocals and interpretation of Jacquelyn’s inventive arrangements.  She might be new to being the musical director, but she completely owns it, and her creativity knows no bounds. “The Air That I Breathe” is so touchingly beautiful, and JLY’s voice both soothing and emotional - the perfect adult lullaby.  And he takes us on a full journey through “Both Sides Now”, giving even more meaning to Joni Mitchell’s lyrics and giving us more food for thought. 

On the final evening of JLY’s residency, former Ambassador to Finland, Robert Pence, and his wife Suzy, were there along with their friends.  Ambassador Pence had requested a special song for his friends, which JLY learned especially for this evening.  “One In A Million You” was outstanding, and I hope that he performs it again in the future.

JLY finished the evening with “Maybe I’m Amazed”,  and I still have a hard time listening to Sir Paul McCartney’s original because I prefer JLY’s even more.  Then we were all up on our feet for “Sherry”...I would say going out on a high note, but in reality, the entire set was filled with high notes.

John Lloyd Young and Cafe Carlyle go hand in hand...the perfect fit for past, present, and future.  With all of the new material and creative influences, I can’t wait to see what’s next. And I am so glad that we are all along on the journey with him!

[rai-knightshade-art]

Isn't She Lovely? Life and Love are the same; and life is Aisha, the meaning of her name...

Isn't She Lovely?, By Stevie Wonder

Happy Valentine's Day! Let's celebrate more than just romantic love with some Father-Daughter Bonding!

Close ups and thoughts below the cut, Image ID in the alt text.

Listen. LISTEN. Sometimes you just gotta work out your daddy-daughter dance feels via OCs and that is VALID, ok? So have some dads singing to their little girls. It's what we deserve.

Featuring:

Jack Dalton, singing to Riley and the girls of the Bradyverse AU, Arista and Eliza May (and playing the guitar because that's definitely something he'd be able to do), with Mac (and Brady), Bozer, and Desi in the background, basking in the music. (This is probably on Mac's back deck but it could just as easily be a similar deck at their house in Texas.) (And not to worry, Brady isn't left out; he's got his own song from Papa in the form of Hey Jude.)

Jesse Swanson, happily singing to his daughter Molly (an OC) (this is sort of Their Song™, starting from before she was even born when he actually sang it to Beca as part of a birthday serenade/baby announcement, then sang it again just a few hours after Molly was born). (Beca's definitely in the background somewhere, rolling her eyes at Jesse's cheesiness, as if she doesn't sing Molly to sleep every night with Flashlight.... And as if she didn't cry the first time Jesse sang it to their newborn there in the hospital. She blames that on the hormones though.)

Zekk and little Jasa, from the Test Tube Babies AU; Jasa loves to dance to whatever music she can find (and she'll make something up if she needs to) and her Daddy is her favorite dance partner!

Close ups:

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Stevie Wonder - Music Of My Mind

Fourteen entire albums into his career Stevie Wonder finally renegotiated his contract and began his classic era and the greatest five album streak in musical history. It may lack the smash hits of his other classic era records, but it does have beautiful lengthy soul explorations and the smooth synth sounds that would become a staple of his music for the rest of his career. I could say more but let's be real the, rest of his classic albums are gonna be on this list so I'll see you again when either Fullfillingness' First Finale or Innervision come up.

MC5 - Kick Out The Jams

There is no one birthplace of punk rock. The Sonic's Strychnine? The Trashmen's Surfin' Bird? OR maybe it's MC5's Kick Out The Jams. It's none of these, but for when it came out Kick Out The Jams was the most punk rock song 5hat had ever been written. Heavy distorted guitars, nearly unintelligible lyrics and an attitude that got them banned throughout the US. They have the zero fucks about production quality attitude of their early 60s predecessors but with a heavy raw energy that was brand new for the time. Plus these guys were hardcore leftist anarchists and some of their lyrics reflect this. So that's pretty great.

Gillian Welch - Time (The Revelator)

It's hard to describe the exact way Gillian Welch handles time as a theme on this album. Only one song really goes for a 'can never get back the past' kinda vibe the rest treat time like a place you can visit. A loving detachment might be the right way to put it. When she sings about Elvis the song is about his debut tv appearance, but is sung with all the hopefulness of someone who knew and loved him and all the despair of someone who already knows where he'll end up. In April The 14 Part I and Ruination Day Part II she sing about three different tragedies that happened on April 14, the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, the sinking of the Titanic, and the black Sunday dust storm of the great depression. These events are unrelated, but sung about as if there is some deeper meaning to it all. As if people need to make a connection or else what was the point? If they aren't linked in some magical way then they are just horrible tragedies with no purpose. Welch uses time to make some meaning in these events. It's an album that is stuck in the past from the subject matter to the style. And there are no rose tinted glasses, some things are sweet and some things are horrible but they are all a little distant from us in the present and Gillian Welch captures that distance in a way that I didn't even know was possible.

GZA - Liquid Swords

Every Wu-Tang solo album may have featured every member of the crew, but that does not mean they all sound the same. RZA crafted beats for individual members to suit their aesthetics and my god does that mean this album has kung Fu movie samples. GZAs flow was probably the tightest and punchiest so his album has these striking synth strings and stark beats. And the attention to detail is amazing, for example the most notable vocal samples are in the beats for Living In The World Today and Shadowboxin' the two song featuring Method Man, whose solo work has a lot more vocal samples. It might seem like 8m hyping up RZAs work on this GZA album, but cmon you know that GZA raps good. I'm telling you why this album is as good as all the hip hop nerds say it is.

Arctic Monkeys - AM

I like Arctic Monkeys just fine, but this album just isn't the one. Their first two are great bubbly punk records and the one directly after this nails the Bowie-esque art rock much better than AM does. It's not strictly bad, but I forgot that it was playing and only really perked up after it was over when Spotify started auto playing a track from their first record.

Bruce Springsteen - The Wild, The Innocent & The E Street Shuffle

This is the real start to Springsteen's career. His sophomore release sees him explode into his street fairytale working class poet self. This album sees Springsteen and his E Street Band in their element, writing songs that run between four and a half and ten minutes. Gone are the solo tracks of his debut instead showcasing a full band on every track providing dramatic backing and dynamics like an E Street opera. And let me tell you, this is one of his weaker albums. Springsteen is a beast and always a treat to listen to.

Toots & The Maytals - Funky Kingston

Oh Rolling Stone, how badly you have fucked up. I'm so excited to tell you how ignorant these fuckers are 😈. Funky Kingston is a 1973 album by Toots & the Maytals. The Rolling Stone list gives this 1973 date for the album's release. But what they reviewed seems to be a completely different album. Pressure Drop? Take Me Home, County Roads? Those songs aren't on 1973s Funky Kingston what going on? Well you see in 1975 an album titled Funky Kingston and sporting the same cover art was released for American audiences. That album contained three tracks from the og Funky Kingston, Pressure Drop from The Harder They Come soundtrack, and the rest from In The Dark. This is the album they actually reviewed. They said they reviewed 1973 Funky Kingston but it was actually 1975 Funky Kingston! I'm so sorry Toots Hibbert that your review was just me dunking on Rolling Stone. Listen to Funky Kingston, In The Dark, and The Harder They Come. They're all really good.

Sly & The Family Stone - Greatest Hits

Why don't we get any greatest hits from white artists on this list? Why is it only black music that gets an overview instead of a deep dive? Listen to Stand! and There A Riot Going On. I guess this has some value since Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin) was only released as a single.

The Beatles - Let It Be

So I guess I should reveal to y'all that I am not a hater. I actually like The Beatles so if you wanted to see me roast them well sorry. Plot twist! I'm gonna roast Phil Spector. Yeah this album isn't great, but it is largely a matter of production. This was supposed to be a return to their roots for The Beatles so they hired Phil Spector to produce. Unfortunately by 1970 Spector was an out of touch maniac. He tried to remove every hint of imperfection and wound up throwing orchestra where it didn't belong and generally doing a half assed job. The Long and Winding Road is butchered by the production and honestly Let It Be is overproduced as well. There are a few gems though, I think that I've Got A Feeling is one of their best songs and Two Of Us is super charming. Unfortunately most of the album just falls into mediocrity due to poor production. And I know it's the production because there are multiple pre Spector bootlegs that show how this album should have sounded and they're generally fantastic.

[ithinkthereforeidread]

what the dead poets would listen to if they were around today

a very comprehensive, well thought out list

neil - taylor swift, basically every musical theatre soundtrack out there, kate bush, lorde, phoebe bridgers, cage the elephant, mitski, fleetwood mac, rina sawayama. man LOVES his women artists and we stan that behaviour

todd - the smiths, sufjan stevens, hozier, elliott smith, the beatles, salvia palth, nick drake, mitski, slowdive, todd really has a penchant for sad white men singing and playing guitar. he has his happy guilty pleasures songs every now and then too :)

charlie - super big into jazz and rock, think the white stripes, john coltrane, miles davis, the smashing pumpkins, joy division, chet baker, billie holiday, queen etc…

meeks - billy joel, elton john, wallows, vampire weekend, queen, weezer, the cure, lemon demon, though i think he listens to any genre as long as he finds a song he likes in it!!

pitts - ricky montgomery, jack stauber, the strokes, declan mckenna, peach pit, mac demarco, blur, david bowie, pitts tends to go for happier sounding music, he doesn’t let the poets know the extent that listening to music is the best part of his day and always manages to brighten up his mood

cameron - the beatles, frankie valli, buddy holly, stevie wonder, arctic monkeys, young the giant, joni mitchell, the beach boys, deerhunter, what, there’s nothing wrong with the classics, right? cameron finds solace in the nostalgic and in some of the new. the dead poets are the most surprised at his taste.

knox - in all honestly, (and this is knox slander) he’d probably be into mumble rap. there is lots of GOOD rap out there but knox doesn’t have any of it. artists on soundcloud, xxxtentacion, lil xan, 6ix9ine. he does however, play piano, and he listens to classical every now and then too, chopin, bach, mozart etc…