yellowsweater-bluevest - Tumblr blog

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

I feel confide t enough to say I started watching ST after the last season aired because I read a really good Steddie fic.

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

I think the Duffer Brothers' history with racism in their show goes a lot deeper than a lot of people realize.

Lucas as a character has three distinct B plot stories that get assigned to him: being a minor antagonist to Eleven in season one, being a good friend to the rest of the Party, and being in love with his girlfriend. While Mike's plot is directly centered around two of the most pivotal characters of the show, Dustin is given two different role model characters that shape his arc and is overall the genius that helps the rest of the cast get out of several difficult situations, Will still being connected to the Upside Down after his disappearance in 1983 and that playing into several major plots, Max having a multitude of centric storylines especially in season four and Eleven literally being THE main character- Lucas is only ever given plots that help serve and uplift the other (white) characters. Unless you count him... playing basketball and being friends with Jason. I guess?

Erica is similar to Lucas, but to a much larger degree. I'd like you reading this to think of any single Erica standalone plot in the show that has nothing to do with/does not predominantly or solely benefit the white characters around her. I'll wait.

The Sinclair parents are only touched on in brief sections for the sake of filling the episodes, only ever playing a more major role in Season Four. If you could call it that. I'm sure most of you couldn't even tell me their names off of the top of your heads. (It's Charles and Sue, by the way.)

Argyle was the first somewhat major character of color to be introduced to the show after Erica played her part in season three. I could say similar things about his role in the season overall that I can about Lucas and Erica. Except they set him up to play a bigger role in the next season at the end of season four, going as far as to show him in Hawkins and have Jancy verbally allude to him sticking around, only for the show heads to ghost Eduardo Franco and let him find out he wasn't being brought back through an official social media cast photo.

Kali was a former subject from the same lab El came from, having escaped and subsequently began to lead a vigilante life of enacting revenge on those who played a hand in her suffering. She was the first subject El ever met after leaving the lab, shown to be incredibly powerful and strong-willed. Her and El had an immediate connection, calling themselves sisters right after meeting. But after El was finished with her self-discovery period on the S.S. Kali Gang for one (1) often-forgotten and poorly-written episode, Kali was quite literally abandoned both in spirit and on screen, never to be seen or even mentioned again.

All other characters of color are either killed violently (Patrick), have like ten minutes of screentime total (Jeff and Calvin Powell), or are just straight up background only and may not even have names.

They can dedicate an entire section of season four's plot to Suzie's family, but not to genuine character development for Erica or for Kali to return. They can make room for a whole pointless predatory plot between Billy and Karen, but not to give a more important role to the Sinclair parents. They have room to include a whole plot about El getting bullied in school, but not for Lucas to have a more meaningful story outside of his white friends and girlfriend. They can platform three known white zionists while Palestine currently undergoes a gruesome genocide even as I type this, but they don't have room for Argyle in season five (or even the decency to give Eduardo a fucking phone call).

Not only do the Duffers constantly write themselves into holes because they keep adding unnecessary fodder to the plot, and refuse to kill ANY of their main characters in favor of just creating new characters for the sake of killing them off in mediocre ways despite the fact that they're trying to fit 20+ B plots into 8-9 40-50 minute episodes per season and wondering why half their show doesn't make sense- The time they DO dedicate to character-specific B plots and character arc progression visibly favor the white characters.

If I watch S5, and that's a huge if, I will be sailing the high seas. Between all of this, the fact that they filmed part of season four in an old Nazi prison and tried to turn it into a fucking AirBNB, and the fact that at least four people who play major roles in the show actively support the current genocide of Palestine- I won't be giving them (or Netflix for that matter) another cent of my money.

While you're here, please do your completely free daily click to send aid to Palestine, and here's a list of other resources for how to help more directly.

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

Got my life ruined by this fucking show

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

There are ghosts in Hawkins...

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It was supposed to be a cartoon-ish warm up sketch, I don’t know what happened but it took me 10+ hours lmao

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

i think steve should save the lives of tommy and carol next season. maybe they couldn’t get out of town cuz they really weren’t great in school either, and they’re total “peaked in high school” adults now.

and the apocalypse is goin wild, upside down creatures are in hawkins. tommy and carol have been backed against a building in the center of town by a demodog, tommy tries to put himself between carol and the dog but let’s be real, he’s shitting himself.

cuz what the fuck is this thing and what the fuck is he supposed to do? all he wants is to use carol as a human shield and scream, but he’s gotta be the man.

the demodog lunges. they scream, awaiting the chomp of teeth. it never comes. instead, there’s a swoosh through the air, a disgusting squelching as something comes in contact, and a whimper of something inhuman in pain.

tommy can’t look. his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s shaking like a leaf. carol’s nails release the piercing grip on his arm and she gasps.

“steve?!” and that’s what gets him to look.

because there’s no way.

and yet, there he is.

steve harrington who runs away from fights. steve harrington who can’t throw a punch but sure knows how to take one. king steve who let a girl ruin his reputation and then went missing the same week as eddie ‘the freak’ munson of all people.

steve harrington who is now coated in a layer of hellspawn-creature-demon-dog blood and brains (if they even have brains) and continuing to swing a bat full of nails like he gets paid to do it.

and when it’s dead and over and the street is quiet except for steve’s light panting, tommy speaks up.

“harrington…what the fuck happened to you?” it’s barely a whisper, all breathy and full of confusion, maybe even awe. there’s so much he wants to say, needs to say, to ask. but that’s all his mouth can come up with.

and steve looks between tommy and carol. his eyes are full of something close to remembered betrayal. it hurts somewhere deep to see but it’s better than the look of shell shock that took over when instincts kicked in and told him to protect, to kill where needed when he ran over. steve’s quick to school his expression into a politeness you save for someone you once knew. he scratches at a thick scar banding around his neck. god, what the fuck happened?

“carry fire with you. a lighter and hairspray works pretty well,” steve says and even his voice has changed.

“stevie, tell me you’re okay. and where the hell you ran off to?! please?!”

speaking of munson, steve’s ears perk up at the sound of the walkie on his hip coming to life. he takes it off, brings it to his lips.

“i’m okay. got a little sidetracked but i’m leaving benny’s now,” he says into the walkie. he gives a the pair against the wall a curt nod before turning and walking back to the street.

“jesus h christ, at least take me with you on your side quests, we die together, sweetheart, you know that!”

tommy shares a glance with carol and sighs in relief.

“maybe i should’ve dated him instead,” carol says and looks off after where he left.

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

no but. THIS is why lucas is so good for max. because instead of blaming her for being upset, or treating her badly, he approaches his parents (a happily married couple) and asks honestly how to handle the situation. because he is so earnest and good and he wants to show max she can trust him. lucas is a goddamn king and we don't talk about it enough

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I need them to kiss immediately!!!!

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kas the bloody-handed 🖤🦇🎸🩸

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smooch.

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was just gonna touch up a bit of this but i went a lil silly w it :3

color update, 2022 version under the cut (ive been getting freaky w hot pinks and teals lately......)

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

broke: steve and robin are sisters

woke: steve is robin’s sister and robin is steve’s brother

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love is stored in the steve harrington

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

“You know what they say about Eddie 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨 Munson ..”

Steve frowns. “What?”

Eddie is rolling a blunt while eyeing the new batch of freshmen.

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

What Are You?

Made for the @strangerthingswritersguild Daily Prompt

Prompt | “in my defense, this wasn’t the outcome I was expecting.”

WC | 1039 Rating | Teen Ship | Pre-Steddie CW | Blood Drinking, Mention on Death Tags | Vampire Eddie, Blood Drinking, Apprehension, Fear, Acquaintances

Turned out to be the perfect prompt to add to my Vampire Eddie Series: Bloodlust

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"Oh, good. You're awake!" Steve stated chipperly when he heard Eddie groan. "I wasn't sure if you were going to wake up at all. You slept the whole day.”

"Yeah, I—" Eddie tried to sit up, holding his head as it spun. "I don't function during daylight hours.”

"You don't functi—What?" Steve stated in confusion. "Well, right before you passed out, you said you were hungry, so I have food ready for whenever you want it. It'll just take a few minutes for me to heat it up.”

Eddie laughed and finally got a good look at the victim he passed out on last night. His face fell in shock. "Harrington!?" He sat upright despite his splitting headache. "What are—? Why am I—?”

Steve shook his head with a small laugh. "I'll take it you don't remember last night. You must have been hella drunk or something because you were barely coherent and just kind of passed out on—" When his eyes met Eddie's, his blood ran cold, just as it had last night. He was certain he'd been seeing things, but sure enough, Eddie's eyes were solid black. "What the fuck?!" he exclaimed in horror, grasping the armrests of the chair he was sitting in.

"Woah!" Eddie gasped, putting his hands up where Steve could see them. "I know my eyes are fucked-up, but I don't want to hurt you.”

"The fuck are you?!" Steve spat. "Are you even Eddie? Are you like some evil clone thing?" he asked frantically, pulling his legs up on the chair as if he'd seen a mouse in the room.

"Look, I'm still Eddie. I'm the same loser from high school. I just got into some shit and ended up like this, alright?" He was breathing heavily, both from the panic of Steve freaking out and because he could feel himself getting weaker the longer he was awake without feeding. He could swear he could hear Steve's heart pushing the life-giving liquid through his body.

As freaked out as he was, Steve couldn't help but worry when he saw Eddie sway slightly and his eyelids flutter. He looked like he was about to pass out again any second now. He also looked insanely pale, but he wasn't sure if it was because he was suffering or due to whatever he'd become.

He wanted to trust Eddie. He was acting and speaking like himself, but there was no doubt that there was something different about him, and not just the weird eyes. "What were you trying to do to me last night?" Steve asked suspiciously.

Eddie groaned with a cringe and ran his hand through his hair. "In my defense, this wasn't the outcome I was expecting.”

"What were you expecting?" Steve squinted.

"If everything had gone as planned, you wouldn't have remembered anything," he sighed.

"Any of what?" Steve stressed.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie flopped back onto the soft bed. "The best way to sum it up is that I'm a vampire now.”

"What!?" Steve snapped. "But vampires aren't re—" He froze and glanced at Eddie's inhuman eyes. "Holy shit... Vampires are real..." He sat back down in the chair and stared at the carpet in disbelief.

Eddie pursed his lips as he let Steve process that information in silence.

"Wait! Does that mean you were going to drink my blood?!" Steve gasped, covering his neck with both hands.

"Bingo," Eddie sighed. "But it wouldn't kill you," he added quickly before Steve freaked out even further. "I'd only take what I needed. You'd barely even notice. At most, you might feel a little weak or woozy. They take more from you when you donate blood than what I would need to survive off of for a few days.”

Steve relaxed a little at the information, but still kept his hands loosely around his neck. "Was that why you passed out? You haven't... y'know.”

"Yeah," Eddie nodded weakly. "It's been almost a week.”

"A week!?" Steve exclaimed. He might not understand this whole thing with Eddie being a vampire or whatever, but it didn't sound like a good thing to go a week without eating. Even if eating meant sucking someone's blood. His first instinct was to help, but how exactly could he help? Was he really willing to risk letting Eddie drink his blood?

"I don't think I've ever gone this long," He groaned and tried to sit up, but his head spun too fiercely and he fell back onto the pillows.

"Why have you?”

"I try not to take more than I need, and I just let it go too far this time.”

"Is it gross or something?" Steve cringed at the idea of drinking blood.

"No, I fucking love it," Eddie scoffed. "It's almost better than sex. Everything about it is just incredible, but that makes it dangerous. It's pretty easy to overindulge and end up killing someone by bleeding them dry.”

Steve shivered at the thought.

"So I make a point to pace myself. I really don't want to end up killing someone.”

"When you're this weak, wouldn't you need a lot more to get back on your feet?”

"Not necessarily. I just need enough to not feel like shit anymore, then I can take small drinks here and there to get back to 100%.”

Steve swallowed nervously, not sure how to feel about what he was considering. "Does it have to be the neck?”

Eddie laughed feebly and shook his head. "Anywhere on the body works. If it bleeds, I can drink it." He jumped when Steve's fist came flying towards his face. On top of the shock of not getting punched, he was baffled by Steve holding out his wrist to him.

"Just what you need, right?" Steve confirmed tentatively.

Eddie swallowed as his mouth watered, staring hungrily at the clear veins under his tender skin. He forced himself to sit upright before delicately cradling Steve's hand and arm. He looked up at the man in awe and gave a small nod. "Are you sure?”

Steve nodded sharply and looked away. "Do it before I change my mind.”

Eddie licked his lips as he brought the wrist up to his open mouth, his heart racing wildly.