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#like what is done to chrissy
rigginsstreet · 1 year
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hate when people call heather a lesbian but her fandom is so small i gotta just take what i can get huh.... tragic. anyway shes bi
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phantomrose96 · 1 year
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wow I love finishing games at an extremely reasonable hour
>3:27am >filled with regret >but also get fucked Louie
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flowercrowngods · 1 year
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part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)
day 07: free space a happy ending
Wakefulness embraces him so slowly and gently that Steve’s not entirely sure he isn’t dreaming when he sees Eddie lying next to him, watching him with an easy smile as his fingers tap out a slow beat on his pillow. Steve looks at him, blinking away the remnants of sleep, not quite daring to do anything more than that for fear of it being a dream after all, scared that Eddie would disappear if Steve reached out to touch. 
But then Eddie’s smile widens. “Good morning, sunshine.” 
Steve gasps a little and moves his hand to Eddie’s cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear, his breath hitching when Eddie leans into the touch. 
“You’re here,” he whispers, his gaze wandering over Eddie’s features, taking it all in and looking for any indication that this is a dream. 
Eddie hums. “And you’re pretty.” 
It hits him out of nowhere, the open sincerity in Eddie’s voice, the fondness in his eyes, the honesty in everything about him. The love, open and free now — or getting there, at least. It’s still so raw, though, so new, that Steve doesn’t know how to handle it yet. 
“Shut up,” he huffs once he’s caught his breath, rolling over to hide his face and the way his cheeks are heating up. He rolls right into Eddie's chest, though, and he's so warm, so close, smells so good that Steve wants nothing more than to bury his face in his neck and stay there for the rest of the morning. Or maybe the rest of his life.
The reflex to pull away is there. The urge to run and hide, to laugh it off, to freeze up and find something else to do, something to occupy his hands and stop them from reaching for Eddie. Years and years of muscle memory telling Steve to leave. 
But Eddie's arms come around him, holding him close and pulling him even closer. And Steve breathes him in, remembering that it can be okay. Remembering that they get a chance now. 
Remembering the words. 
What are you doing? 
Changing the world. 
So he tries that, too. Changing the world. He tries by winding his arms around Eddie, too, and breathing in again and again, learning that Eddie won't disappear if he does. 
Slowly, he dares to move his arms, stroking along Eddie's back in slow, gentle patterns, lulling himself into a safety he hasn't felt in a while. Maybe ever. At some point Eddie begins to hum, and Steve thinks that it's just another one of his audible smiles, inviting Steve and the rest of the world to join in if they're so inclined. But then he detects a familiar melody in the vibrations of Eddie's neck against his skin, and he holds his breath to find out what it is. 
His heart jumps when he recognises the song as one he used to listen to on repeat like a lovesick fool around the time his feelings for Eddie turned into something more, something better, something infinitely worse. 
It skips and he forgets how to breathe as he lets his hands travel over Eddie's back, slowly and tentatively daring to slip underneath his shirt and touch his skin. 
Eddie begins to sing, then, and Steve wonders if he's even been in love with him before, because nothing of what he's ever felt compares to Eddie's gentle, hoarse, sleep-rough voice as he sings Somebody to Steve, to their little bubble, or to the world outside. 
"I want somebody to share, share the rest of my lifeShare my innermost thoughts, know my intimate details."
He closes his eyes as he listens, focusing on the vibrations, on the warmth, on the closeness, on how this moment is everything he's never even dared to want. Everything so perfect that he couldn't even dream it up. 
Everything. You're everything. 
He needs to be closer still, so be buries his nose in Eddie's neck and breathes him in, tangling their legs, filled with a breathless kind of joyful bliss when Eddie's breath hitches, too, and he stumbles over the words of the second verse as Steve tries to climb into his skin. 
"I want somebody who cares for me passionatelyWith every thought and with every breath."
You have me, Steve thinks, pressing his lips to Eddie's pulse point. It's not a kiss, not quite. It's something deeper. It's a promise. 
Eddie's hands come up to hold him there even as his voice carries through the drumbeat of Steve's heart in his throat, running fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him purr along to the melody. 
"But when I'm asleep I want somebodyWho will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderlyThough things like this make me sickIn a case like this, I'll get away with it."
When the song ends, Eddie's words faded out, replaced once again by the gentlest silence, Steve feels raw. Vulnerable. Open and exposed. But he also feels safe, and loved, buried in Eddie's skin and held there, as though Eddie is just as scared of fading away as Steve is. 
He lifts his head just slightly, enough to meet Eddie's eyes – only to find that they're closed, an expression so serene like Steve has never seen before. Mesmerised and overflowing with affection, he reaches out to trace the line of his brows, down to his cheeks and all the way to his lips, where his eyes are glued for a second. 
The thought of kissing Eddie is right there. The opportunity is, too. But he doesn't. He barely dares to move as it is. But he does roll them over the rest of the way until he lies comfortably on top of Eddie, and tucks his head underneath his chin, finding one of his hands and lacing their fingers. 
"You've got him," he breathes eventually. "That somebody. If you—“ 
"Yes," Eddie says, his other hand finding its way to the nape of Steve's neck to play with his hair again. "I want."
"Good." It's lame; far from what he wants to say. From what he has already said last night. It feels like they're doing this backwards, starting with the I love you and catching up with the slow build-up afterwards. "Good. Me, too." 
"Good," Eddie hums, and there's that smile again that Steve can't help but mirror. 
They fall asleep again like that even though it’s already late in the morning; cuddling and holding and cradling each other, still trembling slightly. Maybe that's what changing the world will do to you. Maybe that's the bravery more than the love. 
Or maybe it's just Steve and Eddie. Steve and Eddie. SteveandEddie. 
I love you. 
~*~
It takes a bit for Steve to relearn loving Eddie. To not associate it with tragedy and sadness and a bone-deep loneliness that'll leave him breathless even on the best of days. 
It takes a while for Steve to learn a whole new kind of breathlessness, a whole new kind of aching when it comes to Eddie. 
And Eddie's not much better than Steve, pulling away when Steve wants him closer, swallowing his words and needing a second, third, fourth try until he learns that he gets to love Steve now. 
Years of unrequited love, or feelings unreturned, of words put out into the universe with no one to receive them, are not easily or quickly unwritten. But every time Steve's breath gets lodged in his throat and he wants to run away, Eddie is right there to remind him of what they can have now. Every time Steve tries to be a little less of who he really is, Eddie is right there to coax him out of his head with gentle touch and a lot of hugs. 
Every time Eddie starts to doubt himself and all the ways he makes Steve the happiest person on the planet, Steve is right there with the words he only has for Eddie. Words that don't get stuck anymore. Words that finally get a recipient. 
~*~
Their first kiss, the first real kiss, doesn't happen that first morning. They spend the first week only holding each other, barely wanting to let go, hiding their vulnerabilities within each other. 
Steve is worried about it at first, seeing Eddie so quiet, so reverent, lacking his usual cheer, his energy and snarky comments. He asks about it one night, ready to prove right that he isn't and can never be enough for him, that all he will do is steal the things that make him Eddie. 
Eddie stops then, lifting Steve's chin with a finger when he's too scared, too ashamed, too vulnerable to meet his eyes on his own accord. 
"Stevie," Eddie says, his voice so gentle that Steve immediately feels stupid for doubting. "I have loved you for ten years. I've had you for three days. Let me bask in it. Let me be unable to be myself with how absolutely and utterly overcome I am with the knowledge that I have you now. That I get to hold you. That I get to kiss you and keep you and... God. I'm not unhappy. I'm so much the opposite of that that I'm not sure there's a word for it. Other than devoted. Smitten. Bewitched, body and soul."
Steve wants to kiss him then. Almost does, with the way they're just staring at each other, breathing the same air —air that smells like Eddie now. In the end, Eddie just holds him, brushing a kiss to his cheek, his forehead, his temple, and whispers, "Let me bask in it." 
And so they do. 
Wayne called Eddie not long after with the words, "Chrissy just told me the wedding's off. Please tell me that means what I think it means." 
Eddie just blushed, reaching for Steve, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Yeah, I, uh. I finally talked to Steve."
There was a very loud cheer on the other end that made Steve laugh, falling into Eddie's side, holding him tight, a weight falling off his shoulders knowing that Wayne was okay with them. 
You know, I always figured it would be you. 
No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me.
It made his eyes sting again, but he basked in the moment and in the knowledge that Wayne was on their side. Always has been, always will be. 
"You better come here on Sunday, and bring Robin and Chrissy, too." 
"Robs and Chrissy?" Eddie asked. 
"Oh, you're in for a treat. I'll see your asses on Sunday, boys." 
And with that, he hung up. Steve immediately went to call Robin, hopeful and giddy with Wayne's implication, knowing that Chrissy was Robin's person just like Eddie was his. 
"She loves me," Robin said, on the verge of tears, and Steve joined here right then and there. "She's– Steve. She's so– She... God!" 
"Yeah," Steve laughed at the ceiling above his bed, grinning because Robin sounded so happy, not even caring that she didn't have the right words for it, because he could hear Chrissy laughing in the background, too. Laughing and saying hi to him and interrupting Robin's ramblings and groans and giggles with kisses that always left her dumbstruck for a good two seconds each time. 
When the call ended, he went right back to the living room, where he and Eddie started watching Pride and Prejudice before, and fell right on top of him with a happy, happy smile. 
~*~
It happens at Wayne's, exactly one week after Eddie showed up at Steve's in the middle of the night. One week after the phone call. One week after I love you. 
It happens in the soft glow of the fairy lights Steve and Eddie helped him put up years ago. I happens after Wayne hugged him tight once more, after he pulled Chrissy to the side and promised her that she's still his kid, that he still loves her, and that he's happy to see her smile like that. After he promised the same to Robin.
It happens when Wayne's inside to refill their drinks and Chrissy and Robin are caught up in each other that they're blind and deaf to the rest of the world. When Steve turns to find Eddie looking at him with the softest, gentlest expression. 
"Eddie," he whispers, leaning in to rest their heads together, lacing their fingers and stroking his thumb along Eddie's palm.
"Yeah, baby?" 
Baby. It fills him with butterflies, with the urge to scream, to shout from all the rooftops that he loves Eddie, and more importantly, that Eddie loves him back! Baby. Baby.
"I love you." 
"Hmm. I love you more." 
No, you don't. Just longer. "Can I kiss you?" 
He can feel Eddie's little gasp before he leans in even closer, rubbing their noses together, cradling Steve's face with his free hand. "Please," he whispers. 
And Steve does. He captures Eddie's lips, pouring into it everything he feels and more. Sealing the promises he's made and all the ones he's yet to make. The promises to love and cherish Eddie. To be brave. To be there. To stay and keep and bask. 
It's nothing like their first kiss all those years ago. There is no question behind it this time. Only declarations, only promises, only the beginning of a shared future. 
And there are many, many more after this one.
🌷🤍🌷 THE END 🌷🤍🌷
tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript @hardboiledleggs @estrellami-1 @bisexualdisastersworld @space-invading-pigeon @swimmingbirdrunningrock @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @oxidantdreamboat @spilled-jar @phirex22 @littlemsterious @captaingigglyguinea @animecookie95 @sharingisntkaren @haluton @littlemsterious @animecookie95 @suddenlyinlove @bisexual-bilingual-biped @jinx-nanami @makewavesandwar @scheodingers-muppet @morcantinon @hexdbog @homosexualhomocide13
god i can't believe it's over. i thank you, every one of you, who cheered for me, cried with me, screamed and yelled at me, and stayed with me throughout this past week. i have no words right now other than thank you 🤍🌷 and i hope this is okay
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magniloquent-raven · 3 months
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Cute Lil Hellcheer Thought:
Chrissy getting a tattoo.
Just a little one. Tiny. And somewhere her mom won't see it when they see her for the holidays.
She'd assume Eddie talked Chrissy into it, is the thing. And he didn't. He nearly passed out from shock when she even suggested it. She was holding his hand while he got his own tattoo done at the time, and she'd been eyeing up the artwork on the walls the whole session.
It takes her a month or two to work up to actually doing it. And. Well, it's more uncomfortable than she expected. Eddie always chats and smiles through his, but she supposes he has had a lot more practice. She squeezes his hand the whole time she's in the chair, and makes him distract her by talking about his latest campaign plans ("You have to swear not to tell the guys, babe, pinky swear. This is top secret.") It's nice just to hear his voice, even if she still isn't super clear on all the rules and lore he seems to know by heart. She's learning. Some of it. Slowly.
The tattoo is a simple thing, minimal shading. It doesn't take long. After it's done Chrissy spends the next few days doing everything with extreme caution. She's nervous about it rubbing on the inside of her shirt, or bumping into anything, or God forbid she crack the scabs by moving the wrong way. Eddie thinks it's hilarious watching her shuffle around, stiff-armed and slow, and he keeps pretending he's going to poke her still-tender shoulder.
He never does, and she knows he won't. He's been just as cautious as her. Patting on moisturizer for her and letting her sprawl across his lap so she doesn't have to lean her shoulder against the back of the couch when they're watching TV. He keeps tracing light circles around the tattoo, never touching where it hurts, drawing a border like he's reminding himself where it is.
When they're both sure it's healed, no more scabs and peeling and itchy spots, he says he's gotta make sure, so he kisses her tattoo. ("It's the best way to check, trust me. Why are you laughing at me? I'm doing very professional science, and you're laughing at me.")
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whynotimtired · 2 years
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The more I think about it the more I like the idea that mike was supposed to be the 4th and final sacrifice and him going to California kicked off every problem that Henry had in his plan, like it was Chrissy, Fred, max, and then mike. The plan was take max out for El and take mike out for Will, by the time they come back to Hawkins for the funerals all the gates are open and Wills mental state is worse for wear and for the first time he's without Mike, his rock. There's no longer anyone to pull him from the brink which makes Will perfect to manipulate and finally get on Henry's side for good. But Mike leaves and he suddenly needs a new number 4 so he finds Patrick and then max, his number 3, finds a loophole so he has to take Patrick instead as 3 and max becomes his final sacrifice. It all worked out in the end for him and Will was still drawn back but the only hitch in his plan is still Mike. He's still alive which means he needs to get rid of him in some way if he's ever going to have a chance to get to Will
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juhotonin · 9 months
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Zey's Top 10 Songs of 2023 ✨ (JULY-DECEMBER)
I was tagged by my sweetheart @hwichanis Thank you love for tagging me and I had fun doing this <3
In no particular order:
Lip Gloss - The Boyz | Fast Forward - Somi | Slay - Everglow | Crush - Zerobaseone | Guilty - Taemin | Do not touch - Misamo | Maniac - Viviz | Chasing that Feeling - Tomorrow x Together | Watch it - The Boyz | OOTD - Dreamcatcher
Special & Honorable Mentions:
Hear me Out by EXO (which came out on June the 30th that’s why it couldn’t make the list
Drive by Hwiyoung (SF9)
In Bloom by Zerobaseone
Chill Kill by Red Velvet
Love me a little by Shownu x Hyungwon (Monsta X)
Bona Bona by Treasure
Since I’m probably late to the party I don’t know who’s already done it or not and even if you don’t wanna do it, also fine but tagging a few in case IF you wanna do it @insoeng @okaysign @nfly5 @dengswei
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h0n3yk1tt3n · 6 months
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Christine Canigula for the bingo??
Also hi I love your art dude :3
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The girlie ever,, and thank you!! 💙
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gayboybyerz · 2 years
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I’m gonna be controversial for a second and just say that Eddie Munson was the worst thing to come to stranger things. That’s all.
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bylertruther · 2 years
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do me a favor, pls. think abt the eddie we were introduced to before he let down his walls after realizing that the party weren't who he thought they were. did u do tht? okay, cool, thank u. now, please tell me if you think that will would like him bc i'm very curious to hear y'all's thoughts 🧐📝
#see in theory sometimes im like yeah OFC someone that's into dnd that much and that is so unapologetically himself and loves what he loves#with reckless abandon and wears his otherness like a shield rather than something to be ashamed of sounds like someone will would like#and then i think abt how dustin n mike were scared to tell eddie n lucas didn't even try to and how eddie threw food at them and manhandled#them roughly n shoved them away and how he spoke abt lucas n i'm like ........hm.#the eddie that wrestles with dustin n pretends to be warriors with him n tells him to never change n makes lotr references? hell yeah#the soft joke-cracking goofy silly sweet eddie that he shows to chrissy? hell yeah#the eddie that he shows to his lambs at the lunch table? mmmmmmmm i don't think so#bc eddie didn't change until he saw that the party was cooler and braver than him lmao. he was so cagey until he realized oh these guys#know what they're doing and are not the people i assumed they were (prob bc he expects ppl to judge him so much [n they do] tht he finds#himself judging them too and i guess trying to get the upper hand if tht makes sense? idk how 2 explain it idk the Words)#and i just ... don't know that will would like being manhandled roughly by another man after lonnie#or having things thrown at him#when the most anyone has ever done with him is ruffle his hair lol#but then i think well... maybe eddie would react accordingly? like he did with chrissy? but idk#i'm not an eddie scholar idk who that man is#ANYWAY tell me ur thoughts <3#side note. ->#i like ripple effect by one of the greatest writers in all of human history aka lilacline bc of how she wrote will not taking eddie's shit#bc THAT felt hashtag real to me
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piplupod · 2 years
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love that people are making music more and regular ass people can make music and release it but goddamn so much of it is just fucking devoid of feeling or incredibly underwhelming. like they try to make it sound big and BOOM in-your-face but it just comes across as empty and shallow and feels like an empty grey room.
this is specifically about one "influencer"s music btw lol if you think it's about you it's not I promise you lmfao
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ghostlynimbus · 6 months
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For figuring out the plot reasons I need to get feral and unhinged about a few more stranger things characters for this gods and goddesses au
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kennahjune · 7 months
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Thinking of Steddie Soulmates where you feel every pain your soulmate feels.
Thinking of little Steve feeling every backhand and punch from Eddie’s dad.
Thinking of little Eddie feeling Steve break his arm and the pain being so much worse because his parents refuse to take him to the hospital until the school gets involved.
Thinking of Eddie finally moving in with Wayne and sure, the paternal beating are done, but now he’s just a small town Freak that’s constantly targeted.
Thinking of Eddie and Steve in their Sophomore/Freshman years respectively, not knowing who the other is outside of rumors and (unknowingly) their shared pain.
Thinking of Eddie finally escaping pain, the bullying turning to mainly verbal shit.
Only to be thrust right back into pain because his soulmates a walking hazard.
Thinking of Eddie having no idea what’s going on when he suddenly feels like one giant bruise after Steve’s beat up by Jonathan. Eddie watching Steve fall from grace in his Junior year and not connecting the dots.
Billy coming along and smashing a fucking plate over Steve’s head while Eddie’s peacefully sleeping. Eddie jolting awake with a shout because /holy fucking shit ow—/
Neither of them connecting the dots.
Then Steve graduates, and Eddie’s held back. And the pain subsides for a bit.
And then fuck all happens in Starcourt and Eddie literally feels like he’s dying and Jesus H. Christ is his soulmate /ok/??? Like they are getting seriously fucked up.
And then that recedes and it ok for a while— Eddie will still get killer pains that seem to circulate in his chest and head, but that’s to be expected with whatever tf his poor soulmate is going through year after year.
And then the fuckery of March 1986 happens and Chrissy Cunningham is dead in his trailer— his home— and he’s wanted for fucking murder and hiding in Rick’s dingy ass boat house—
And then he’s shoving none other than Steve Harrington up against a wall with a broken bottle helps to his throat. Eddie’s so piped on adrenaline he barely feels the sting in his back, but he does feel the zing of pressure on his throat and ok /ow—/
And he’s staring at Steve Harrington, who looks kinda terrified and so pretty and Eddie’s holding a bottle to his throat and is that Dustin?—
And—
And holy shit.
Eddie’s eyes widen at the same time as Steve’s and the realization hits them both at once.
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phantomrose96 · 2 years
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My manager and my project lead both gave me glowing glowing reviews on this project (my lead even CC'd my skip-level and skip-skip-level with his praise and they both responded) even after I spent all of January and February worried that I was slipping behind with work because I was busy being an overwhelmed shell of a person
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munson-blurbs · 8 months
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Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader
Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie since you joined Hellfire Club. Too bad he's crushing on Chrissy Cunningham...right?
Warnings: angst to fluff, idiots in love, super cheesy but it's Valentine's Day so idc WC: 1.6k A/N: My entry for @corroded-hellfire's This is Music! event!
Divider credit to @saradika
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Eddie’s looking at her again.
You can’t blame him; he’d be crazy not to stare at Chrissy Cunningham, clad in her tiny cheerleading uniform with a bouncy blonde ponytail and sugar-sweet giggle. If you just ignore him, act like he isn’t imagining sweeping her off of her feet–
“Do you think I should send her one of those candy gram things?”
Almost instinctively, Dustin’s eyes flicker to you, but he turns back to Eddie before anyone can notice. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he stammers, scrambling for an excuse. “She and Jason, like, just broke up.” 
This information doesn’t deter Eddie in the slightest. “Exactly. She’s probably heartbroken from getting dumped right before Valentine’s Day. I could be her…Freak in Shining Armor.” He grins at his spin on the unwanted nickname, pausing for a half-second before turning to you and asking, “You’re a girl. What do you think?”
The question is almost laughable. What do you think? You think he should stop pining over Chrissy and start seeing you in that same light.
With a painful swallow, you force a strained smile. “If you like her, you should go for it.”
That’s all of the motivation Eddie needs. He slams his palm on the table and proudly declares, “All right, I’m doin’ it.”
Tears bite at your lash line as he strides across the cafeteria over to where the student council has set up the candy gram booth. You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you glance over to see Dustin offering you a sympathetic look.
“He’s an idiot,” he says, low enough so that his words are inaudible to other Hellfire members. “He’ll figure it out one day, but you shouldn’t sit around waiting for it to happen.”
Logic tells you that he’s right, but moving on is easier said than done. Especially when he’s one of your closest friends.
Determined to avoid any inquiring from the other guys, you do your best to assimilate into their conversation about beating this week’s campaign.
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Chrissy received Eddie’s candy gram on Valentine’s Day. To his dismay, she also got one from Jason Carver. 
“Of course she went back to him,” Eddie mutters, tossing his tin lunch box on the cafeteria table with a harsh clang. He heaves a sigh and rests his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you with his big, beautiful eyes. “Am I gonna be alone forever?”
“Probably.” You muster a tense laugh and brush a tendril of his hair off of your cheek. “Maybe you can try sending out a message in a bottle and see if anyone bites.”
He harrumphs and slumps over, burying his face in his palms. “She told me she ‘appreciates my friendship.’” He shakes his head. “Fucking humiliating.”
The irony of his statement is too much to bear, and you slip away from the table with a half-hearted excuse about needing to study for the history test you have next period. 
The walk to the library feels like it takes decades, silent tears falling as soon as you find an empty table among the stacks of books. 
Chrissy wanted Jason the way Eddie wanted Chrissy, which was the same way you wanted Eddie. 
And no one wanted you. 
A few minutes pass before Jeff slides into the seat next to you. “We’re in the same history class. Figured it would make your lie more believable if I had to study, too.” He shrugs. “Plus, I wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine.”
He doesn’t believe you, you know he doesn’t. Embarrassment is written all over your face, both at your abrupt exit from the cafeteria and your pathetic crush on Eddie. 
Jeff takes a deep breath. “Look, Eddie doesn’t know what he wants.”
“Seems pretty obvious to me that he wants Chrissy,” you say wryly, twirling a pen between your fingers. 
“No…I mean, yeah. But that’s because she’s, like, safe.”
You scoff. “Asking out the Queen of Hawkins High is safe?” 
“Sounds ridiculous, I know, but hear me out.” Jeff leans in a bit closer so he can whisper to you. “She’s not part of our group, so he doesn’t have to worry about constantly hanging out with her. Plus, she’s nice enough to not publicly destroy his ego. I’m sure she didn’t tell Jason about the candy gram, or else he would’ve announced it to the whole school by now.”
You nod in reluctant agreement. 
“And speaking of that jackass,” Jeff continues, “how many times have they broken up and gotten back together?” 
“Too many to count.” Their relationship is like one of the novelas you watch when you’re stuck at home with a fever. 
“Exactly.” Jeff exhales. “Chrissy paid a little bit of attention to Eddie because she wanted some weed for a party, and now he’s head over heels for her. Because he can be. Because her rejection stings a little, but it’s nothing compared to how being rejected by you would feel.”
Wiping at your tear-dampened cheeks, you shake your head. “I don’t think he cares about being rejected by me.”
He mumbles something under his breath but doesn’t say another word until the bell rings, and the two of you walk to class together. 
Thank God you don’t actually have a test today; you wouldn’t be able to focus long enough to answer a single question. All you think about is what Jeff had implied: that Eddie does like you but is afraid to ruin your friendship.
You brush off the idea as ridiculous. Why would Eddie choose you over the gorgeous head cheerleader?
Uneasiness builds within you until it’s impossible to ignore, and you scrawl a note in the back of your composition notebook before you can fully think it through.
Eddie–
I’m sorry that Chrissy turned you down. Trust me when I say that I know what it’s like to feel unwanted by the person you want the most. It sucks, but you’ll move on and realize that she was the one who missed out, not you.
You sign your name and add a P.S. Fuck Valentine’s Day for good measure, folding the paper in fourths and slipping it into his locker between class periods. Not quite a confession, but it’ll do.
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Eddie’s waiting by your locker after the last bell rings, scraping a front tooth against his bottom lip and fiddling with something. As you get closer, you realize that something is your note.
“Who is he?” Eddie demands to know, sighing impatiently when you raise your brows in confusion. “This mystery guy who doesn’t want you. Who is he?”
“No one. It’s fine,” you say quickly, refusing to make eye contact with him as you twist open the lock. “It was just to let you know that you’re not alone in this, okay?”
He shakes his head and chuckles tersely. “Nah, not okay. I’ve gotta kick his ass.” He shuffles from foot to foot, already anticipating a fight.
“Well, you can’t.”
“And why not?” Eddie scoffs. “I know I’m scrawny, but I’m pretty damn scr–”
“Because you’d be kicking your own ass!” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your blood runs cold and your pulse thuds in your ears when you realize what you’ve said. “I’m sorry. That was too much, especially with what happened with Chrissy today.”
You start to leave, but you’re tugged back in place by his gentle grasp on your wrist. “Follow me,” he murmurs. He makes a beeline for the Hellfire room with you right on his heels. As soon as you walk in, he closes the door. “Repeat that? Because I don’t think I heard you right.”
“You’re the guy who doesn’t want me,” you manage through the lump in your throat, “and it’s okay, because we can’t help who we like and who we don’t. I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything like that.” 
You’re rambling, and you tuck your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from talking yourself in circles.
Silence seeps into the room, the only noise is the hum from the fluorescent lights overhead. Finally, Eddie speaks again. “Do you know why I asked you to join Hellfire?”
You swivel your head back and forth in a definite no.
“Yeah, I tried to keep it that way,” he says with an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “So, um, I kinda had a massive crush on you. And I figured that we’d get to know each other here and then I’d ask you out or whatever, but I kept chickening out. So…there ya have it.” He shifts his hands as if to say ta-da.
“And now you like Chrissy.” Out with the old, in with the new.
Eddie takes a small step closer, one ring-clad hand taking yours. “Not the way I like you,” he breathes, his other thumb tracing a faint line over your jaw. “Not even close.”
You close the gap between you, tilting your head so your lips meet his. The fear that he’ll hesitate or turn his head altogether disappears as soon as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. His hand tucks behind your ear, and he leaves it there until you both have to break away for air.
The two of you wear matching smiles, shy but relieved. Eddie leans in to kiss you once again, only to be interrupted by the rest of the club’s musings.
“Took them long enough.”
“Seriously, I thought we were just gonna have to watch them pine over each other forever.”
“Crap, do you think they can hear us?”  
“Yeah, shit-heads, we can hear you,” Eddie calls out with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before turning back to you.
“Now, where were we?”
--
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steddiealltheway · 1 year
Text
It starts out simple. Eddie notices that Steve sometimes spaces out, but no one really pays him much attention. Usually, he’ll try to enter back into the conversation, and he’ll earn a few eye rolls when he has no idea what anyone’s talking about.
But what really haunts Eddie is the way Steve will sometimes be zoned out with his jaw and fists clenched, looking as if he’s reliving the worst of the upside down. He’ll gradually come out of it, and sometimes Robin will nudge him and quietly whisper if he’s okay, but he just shakes it off.
It’s like he has to appear fine in front of everyone, but Eddie gets it. He’s not sure what the group would do if Steve fell apart.
But a few times, he looks like he’s on the verge of it.
One time, he’s far away enough from everyone that Eddie is able to inconspicuously make his way to the former jock and nudge him. “Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie asks.
Steve startles and Eddie watches as the tension in him increases then slowly releases until he appears “normal.”
Eddie grabs his wallet and sifts through it before finally finding what he wants. A single dull penny.
He hands it to Steve who takes it and starts fiddling with it. He glances back at everyone else to make sure they’re out of earshot before he answers, “I’m just scared that maybe this Vecna creep will return, you know? It’s happened four times by now. How do we know it’s over?”
Eddie takes a deep breath. He’s gone through the same thought process of wondering if he’ll be back. If life will return to hell again. But he can’t imagine what it’s been like for Steve whose done it multiple times.
But he’s been able to logic his way out of his anxiety before. “Well, we have Will who has the whole Spidey-sense thing going on, so we’ll know if he’s back but… remember what El said. She felt it. Like it was finished this time. For good.”
Steve just nods and Eddie sees the tiniest shred of anxiety slip away. “Plus,” Eddie continues, “Can’t let our hero boy do all the worrying or his strength might deplete. How about I do all the worrying and standing guard tonight, huh?”
Steve glances over at him for a second, and Eddie almost thinks he’s going to laugh him off or something. Instead, he lets out a shaky sigh, puts his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, and squeezes. “Thanks, man.”
Eddie watches as Steve pockets the penny and actually heads toward the group with a smile on his face. He smiles and looks around. Time to stand guard.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie almost forgets about it, but it’s probably the whole not-getting-any-sleep-because-he-keeps-having-nightmares thing. It’s been a particularly bad week when he finds himself in the Harrington home with all the gremlins and other adults. He wants to be all bigger than life / life of the party, but his energy is gone.
He sits at the kitchen island on a barstool with his head in his hands, staring at the granite slab of the countertop when a hand and something slides into his view.
The hand pulls back and Eddie gets sight of a penny. What the-?
He looks up to see Steve sitting next to him with a small smile on his face. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks.
Eddie stares at him and feels his heart flutter but he wills that to die down a bit. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. Just…” he glances off to see if anyone else is in earshot before continuing, “I keep getting these damn nightmares. Sometimes about… Chrissy… sometimes about random stressful shit, but they just won’t stop. It’s like although Vecna’s gone, he’s always here.”
Steve’s gaze has turned sympathetic as he runs a hand through his hair and looks around before lowering his voice. “I’ve been through the same thing, but I’ve found that it’s easier getting through the night with other people. Don’t tell anyone, but I snuck into Robin’s room for weeks after the whole Russian torture thing. But hey, if you want to crash here with me tonight, I’d be more than happy to have you.” Steve glances away from Eddie and runs a hand through his hair again as a faint blush appears on his cheeks. “Hell, you’d be helping me out too, man.”
Eddie considers it and immediately feels a wave of relief flood through him at the thought. He pockets the penny and squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “That’d be great. Thank you. Really,” Eddie says with a smile and eases himself off the barstool.
He hears Dustin raising his voice in the other room and Eddie says to Steve, “Time to ware out the children.”
Steve just laughs and joins him, but Eddie sees another tiny piece of tension leave his body.
-:-:-:-:-:-
It slowly becomes their thing. Eddie finds himself keeping pennies on himself at all times just in case, but by some strange fate, him and Steve always use that same penny.
Sometimes it pressed into Eddie’s palm, Eddie once throws it at Steve yelling, “catch!”, and sometimes it just appears in one of their vision.
The thoughts range from stupid things like Steve trying to remember if he turned off the oven to Eddie’s Dnd campaign to the overwhelming trauma from the Upside Down seeping into their lives.
Along with the penny becoming a regular thing, Eddie sleeping in Steve’s bed becomes a regular thing too. At first, it’s a bit awkward as they try to find out how much space each of them needs, what side of the bed they prefer, what they’re like in the mornings, and overall just how to be around each other when sharing a bed.
It shifts when one night, Eddie notices Steve staring at the ceiling wide awake. Eddie leans over the side of the bed where his pants are and digs into his pocket to retrieve the penny which he gently lays on Steve’s chest.
Steve glances down and carefully picks it up, twirling it as Eddie watches the coin slightly glint in the moonlight. There’s a deep breath and then Steve is saying, “I was just thinking about what if we… I don’t know. Like… held each other? Or rather, I was thinking that it would be nice to be held.”
Steve sets the penny down on the nightstand which indicates the end of his thoughts but he doesn’t dare turn to face Eddie. But Eddie is already scooting closer to press his body against Steve who instantly curls into Eddie’s embrace holding him as if he’ll escape if he tries to let go. But Eddie would never escape.
And every night they hold each other close with no questions asked and no penny needed.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie’s feelings for Steve grow. He knows they’ve been there since the beginning, but with the whole penny thing, it’s like he has the key to all of Steve’s deepest thoughts and desires. He knows that Steve has access to his as well and is just thankful that Steve’s never given him the penny when Eddie’s been staring at him. He knows he can’t lie to Steve, and it may be dumb, but he especially can’t lie with that penny in sight.
So, he says nothing. He keeps holding Steve through the night, comforting him if he’s awoken from a particularly bad nightmare, but usually just laying there willing himself to stay awake as long as he can so he can bask in the sensation of holding Steve Harrington.
Then, one morning as Steve makes them breakfast, Eddie looks at him for a little too long, wondering how he’s been able to live his life without him when that penny is slid into his sight.
Eddie blinks down at it and swallows as Steve looks at him. “You,” Eddie blurts out, “I was just thinking about you.”
Eddie leaves the penny on the table because he knows that’s not enough of his thoughts. Steve turns back to scrape the eggs out of the pan onto a plate and put some butter on their toast before he turns back to Eddie. He doesn’t pry, but through the breakfast the penny stays in sight.
Eddie’s plate is clear when he finally fully answers, “I was just thinking about how much better my life has been since you’ve come into it, and… thank you.” He feels blood rise to his cheeks and finds Steve with a similar blush.
“I was thinking the same about you,” Steve responds and takes their plates to clean them before Eddie can respond.
He knows he’s falling in love with him.
-:-:-:-:-:-
It’s a few mornings later, and Eddie feels someone watching him. It doesn’t feel creepy or bad because he can feel the way that Steve has shifted to lean over him. Eddie opens his eyes slowly and takes in the view of Steve staring down at him with a small smile on his face. Eddie rolls towards his side of the bed, where his clothes are piled up and grabs the penny before rolling back to Steve.
He gently presses it into Steve’s hand who continues to stare down at him with a look in his eyes that Eddie can only assume is reflected in his own gaze.
Steve takes a deep breath and whispers, “I was just thinking that I might be in love with you.”
Eddie’s heart stutters, and he feels Steve’s hand shift to press the penny into his. Eddie smiles and replies, “I think I might be in love with you too.”
Steve smiles all wide and bright in the way that makes Eddie feel like he’s the luckiest person in the world to be able to see it. Then, Steve’s hand is intertwining with Eddie’s and as the penny presses into their palms, they both lean in and kiss, only breaking away when they both break into wide smiles and begin laughing as all the tension drains from them.
Years later, Eddie gets the penny turned into a ring and when he gets down on one knee, all he asks is, “Penny for your thoughts?”
AO3 Link (for @humanityinahandbag <3)
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emchant3d · 10 months
Text
modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington
Stevie Harrington is not having a good day.
By all accounts, she should be. Robin woke her right on time by pressing a perfectly made brown sugar shaken espresso into her hand. Nancy and Chrissy got to the venue earlier than expected. The hair and makeup people were on schedule. Their boozy charcuterie brunch during their prep time was perfectly served, the mimosas delicious and the food fresh and light enough to put on her nervous stomach. 
Everything’s gone off without a hitch. She looks gorgeous. She’s got her something old, her something new, her something borrowed, and even her something blue. Her hair’s done in a soft blowout, framing her face but out of the way, ready for the combs of her veil to slip into. Her makeup is elegant, not too showy and not too dramatic, neutral and warm and sweet. And her dress. It’s what she always dreamed of, clingy and silky with a dramatic leg slit and a long train, off the shoulders, perfectly white. She’s staring at herself in the mirror knowing that in forty-five minutes, she’s going to hold the world’s most beautiful wedding bouquet and walk down the most perfectly decorated aisle in the quaintest, sweetest church she could find, and she’ll stand across from her fiancé and take his hands and say “I do” and all of her dreams will come true.
So she should be having a good day.
Because it’s her wedding day, and Stevie Harrington is about to become Stefania Hagan.
Maybe that brunch wasn’t so perfect after all, because she thinks she’s about to puke.
“I can’t do this,” she says, but her voice is so soft it’s barely a whisper and the girls don’t even glance at her. “I can’t do this,” she repeats, and Robin - bless her, her favorite person in the world, her soulmate, her other half, her maid of honor - glances up. 
“What’s that, Evie?” she asks, and the others look over at her, and Stevie stands there beneath their gazes and knows if she just says it again, says I can’t do this, don’t make me marry him, get me out of here, all three of them would drag her to an exit and get her the fuck out.
They don’t even like Tommy. Robin actively hates him, actually, and that should have been enough for Stevie to never look at him twice.
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t enough.
She thinks back to a few days ago, drunk in a bar with a white sash wrapped around her torso, a tiara on her head, and mascara running down her face as she desperately sobbed on Robin’s shoulder during her bachelorette party. That little meltdown wasn’t enough. And she thinks back further, to when Tommy proposed - in public, at a fucking baseball game, on the goddamn jumbotron. Dread had settled in her chest at the sight of the ring (huge, gaudy, she hated it on sight) even as she pasted on a smile and said yes. That hadn’t been enough.
But somehow standing here done up head to toe, about to walk down the aisle in her absolute dream wedding - that’s enough. Because everything about today is right. Everything’s in place. Everything’s gorgeous and going to plan and she should be so, so happy - but it’s the wrong man waiting for her at the end of all of it.
She can’t do this. 
She looks up and meets Robin’s eyes and forces a smile. “I said I need to get my veil,” she lies, and she slips into her shoes (red bottoms, a gift from Tommy’s mother, perfectly white and pointed and it’s her dream day, how can she be throwing this away?) and walks into the other room where her garment bag is hanging, and her veil is there with its delicate detail and it’s scalloped edges and it’s all so fucking perfect she’s going to scream, she wants to rip it to pieces and she wants to tear this dress off and she wants to sob, she doesn’t want to do this, she doesn’t want to get married - not to him. Not to Tommy. 
She could ask for help. Robin would have her out of here in five minutes flat, Nancy would craft an excuse to tell everyone, and Chrissy would cause a distraction. But even that’s too long of a wait. Even that’s too much attention, too much suspicion. She needs to move faster than that. She needs out now.
She quickens her pace as she crosses the room, dress dragging along the carpet, and she snags her phone where it’s sitting on the end table next to an overstuffed love seat, and in three long strides she’s out the door and in the hall and the church has been busy and packed all day but somehow, miraculously, there’s no one here.
No one sees Stevie as she gathers up the fabric of her dress in her hands and starts to walk towards the exit. No one sees as her walk speeds to a jog, and then a run, and then she slams out of a side door and she’s on the sidewalk and she’s sprinting, her heels are going to get scuffed by the pavement but she can’t care, she’s running as fast as she can and dodging people on the sidewalk as they turn and gawk at her and she cannot give them a thought, cannot focus on them even a little bit because she has to get away, escape is the only thought on her mind as she gasps for air, her dress is so heavy and it’s not made for running that’s for goddamn sure, and the last few years with Tommy flash through her mind - every time he’s undermined her or given her a backhanded compliment or policed her, told her she wasn’t feminine enough, told her she wasn’t trying hard enough to pass, told her to just keep it all to herself so no one would know she wasn’t cis, wouldn’t embarrass him by making a scene, all the times that come together to a glaringly obvious conclusion that he doesn’t really love her and she kind of hates him a little actually, and obviously she can’t fucking marry him and–
There. 
A beat-up four-door with an Uber sticker in the window. 
That’ll do, she thinks, and she changes course, shoulder-checking a man and not apologizing for it as she makes a beeline for the car. She pops off an acrylic wrenching the door open and tossing herself into the backseat, and she yells “DRIVE!” at the top of her lungs and somehow, through some miracle, they listen, swerving into traffic with a loud curse and a myriad of honking horns and a quaint, sweet little church growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
She’s gasping for breath, chest heaving, staring out the back window like she’s waiting for someone to follow her - and maybe she is, maybe Tommy is hot on her trail, or maybe Robin is coming to kill her for not including her in her mad dash to freedom and instead jumping in a stranger’s car going God knows where.
“So uh,” a voice says, and she whips around, staring wide-eyed at the brown eyes fixed on her in the mirror, and no, no fucking way– “where to, ma’am?” 
“Um,” she says, and her voice is shaky, cracking a little, she brushes her hair out of her face and stares and– wait.
There’s a beat. The driver’s eyes widen. Recognition flashes over his face at the same time it registers for Stevie. 
“Stevie?” Eddie Munson, her ex-boyfriend of several years, the man she hasn’t spoken to since that fateful night they went their separate ways, is staring at her in shock, not even looking at the road, and the only thing she can think is how he’s just as averse to road safety now as he’d been way back when.
“Eddie,” she croaks out. 
Too many emotions are overwhelming her at once and it feels like the biggest cliché in the world, but honestly, Stevie feels like she’s entitled to some dramatics. It’s her goddamn wedding day, after all.
Her failed wedding day.
Where she just left her fiancé at the altar.
“Oh god,” she manages. Her lower lip wobbles. Her vision blurs.
“Stevie,” Eddie says again, like a warning, and that’s enough to push her over.
She bursts into tears in his backseat.
“Hey hey hey!” he says like she’s a fucking spooked horse or something, which only makes her cry more, ugly sobs that shake her shoulders and drip tear drops onto her dress. “Stevie, honey–”
“Do NOT call me honey right now!” she manages, and he raises a hand in surrender before flipping on a turn signal and finding a parking lot to pull over in. 
“Okay, okay! No comforting pet names, you got it,” he agrees, and he shuts the car off, turning in his seat to look at her, concern painted all over his face and that’s just really not fair, she thinks, that he still looks so earnest and sweet and fucking worried about her.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, urgent and serious, and she shakes her head quickly.
“No! No, I’m - I’m fine, really,” she insists and he proves that he is a gentleman after all, because he doesn’t call her out on the blatant lie.
“Okay,” he says, level, his hand hovering in the space between them like he wants to touch her. “What do you need?” he asks, and she wipes at her face with her hands, swallowing down yet another sob.
“Get me out of here,” she pleads, and he searches her face for - something, she doesn’t know what, because she’s sure all she’s showing him is how much of a fucking mess she is, but he must find whatever he’s looking for.
He gives her a sharp nod. “Anywhere in particular, sweetheart?” he asks, turning to start the car again. She doesn’t call him out on the pet name this time.
“Anywhere but here,” she says, and he puts the car in reverse, pulling back onto the road.
“You got it,” he says, and some of that old charm must kick in - he winks at her in the rearview. She resolutely ignores the spike of emotion it gives her. 
Then she takes a deep, shuddery breath, and opens the group chat to break the news to her wedding party.
part 2
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