lilpomelito

[lilpomelito]

my favorite flavor of steddie is like, eddie who is on the cusp of unhealthily obsessed with steve like if you angle it a certain way it would be Toxic™ but it's like a true and sweet enough love that it just falls short like he's not controlling and manipulative and he can do his own thing without steve but his brain is just STEVE STEVE STEVE in the background the whole time. and then you have steve who is looking at eddie like he's the coolest thing in the world, and LOVES eddie, but like in such a lovely mundane way like he daydreams about holding eddie's hand and cooking him breakfast and picking out curtains and planning a fall wedding for them kind of love.

just steve who deserves to be someone's first choice no matter what and eddie who deserves someone who looks at him like he's a regular person who deserves a normal life and chooses every single day to love eddie no matter what

[lilpomelito]

[lilpomelito]

Put that man in the pound like the dog he is🏠🐶

woof

[lilpomelito]

[lilpomelito]

Happy Birthday Joe :)

[lilpomelito]

Eddie Munson likes to perch on things like a feral crow

[lilpomelito]

Oop let's try this again; for the birthday fics: “Because you’re a jinx!” angsty Steddie established relationship, chasing fame Eddie and some guy Steve who gets discovered while Eddie's band keeps being passed over? Platonic hellcheer and platonic Stobin.

I couldn’t find a way to put in the platonic ships but it’s still Steddie. Enjoy the angsty flavour electric boogaloo.

It was supposed to be Eddie’s lucky day.

This was supposed to be his time. The moment when the rich suits would look at Eddie and immediately offer him the contract that finally pushed his music to fame.

But it was just another fucking mediocre performance. Only a few people out of the dozens in the crowd cheered, but that was worse than getting no response at all. Nobody even went up to them for an autograph, their numbers, Instagram handles, music samples, anything that would’ve made the night worth it.

Eddie stayed silent and seething for the whole drive home. The rest of the band left on their own respective vehicles, though Jeff had lingered longer to say something that Eddie mentally filtered out. Probably some shitty encouragement or a call to quit. 

His hands tightened around the wheel. Eddie felt the pulsing headache crawl to the back of his eyes. Goddamnit, he needed to sleep.

Maybe in Steve’s arms, but for once, Eddie just wanted to be alone for tonight. 

After he parked the car and trudged the stairs back to his apartment, Eddie bit his lip until he tasted the sting of copper. 

He was so tired. Not just physically, but in very foul shape that took its claws into him. It was the apathetic crowds and uninterested advisors. How the rest of the band delayed practice more and more. The bland methodical act of cutting up another piece of his shrinking soul as a muse for his lyrics. 

But still. He was close to that single star of recognition. Eddie had to taste it.

Unlocking the door, Eddie kept himself from collapsing until he dropped his guitar case and landed face-first on the couch. 

In the bedroom, he could catch some muffled conversation, the floor creaking as Steve paced back and forth inside. 

Eddie frowned and checked his phone for any missed messages. Steve hadn’t texted him since five,  soon after Eddie had left for the worst night of his life. It was almost eleven now. So why was his boyfriend still up and talking to someone?

Before Eddie could try and get up, the door opened and Steve came out, his phone in hand. Steve glanced up and stopped in his tracks when he saw Eddie. He gave a bright smile.

“Hey, babe! You okay?” 

Eddie groaned. If he had the energy, he could scream into the pillows.

The floor creaked as Steve approached and gently laid a hand on his back. “Was the band okay?”

Eddie groaned again, unable to hold himself back from pressing against Steve’s hand. He could really use a fucking massage. Or some quick, stress-relief sex. “It’s fucking awful. It’s always fucking awful.”

Steve made a sympathetic noise, “I’m sorry to hear that, Eds.”

Eddie lifted his head up and peered at Steve. Despite his words, there was an odd light in Steve’s eyes and his lips were fighting desperately not to smile.

“What is it?” He asked.

Steve had the nerve to look spooked, “Uh, well, I don’t want to ruin your mood-”

“What is it?”

Steve stared at him for a moment before he sighed like it was the start of a serious discussion.

“You know that audition I did back in Chicago two weeks ago?” Steve bit his lip. It only revealed the cracks of excitement on his face and Eddie already knew what he was about to say. “Well, my agent called and said that I’m officially casted. I’m gonna be in a HBO show!”

Record scratch.

Eddie only stared at Steve as the news hit him with the speed of a truck. When he saw Steve’s smile in full glory, he only saw blank faces who spat at him with rejection and disappointment and ‘try better’s. 

How the fuck does Steve get so many gigs when Eddie could barely find an open venue in advance? And now he’s going to work for fucking HBO, Jesus Christ-

Steve was frowning at him, “You- are you not happy?”

“Of course, I am!” Eddie said quickly. It felt hard to speak when there was something now stuck and burning in his throat. He got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen. He needed a drink. Maybe not alcohol, though tempting. But some actual water but he was too exhausted and sober for this shit. 

“I’m always here to support my wonderful and talented boyfriend who never misses an audition. Who always gets a spot in whatever he plays in, even if it’s a fucking diaper commercial or a glorified extra who gets five more cents than his less impressive boyfriend.” 

As he spoke, his words became more tinted with venom. Eddie took an empty glass and filled it under the tap. He almost choked from gulping it down in one go. It cooled his throat, but the burning simply expanded through his veins.

“Okay, you’re mad.” Steve said slowly, now behind him.

Eddie laughed bitterly, “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. They taught you that in acting class or was it a trick from your last ex?”

“Jesus, okay, Eddie.” Steve put his hands on Eddie’s shoulders but Eddie shook him off with more force than necessary. “You’re obviously in a bad mood and my news isn’t making it better, but you did ask and-”

Eddie whirled around. He was seeing red at the corners of his vision. “And now it’s my fault?!”

Steve backed away, his hands up in a plea of surrender. His face pinched with concern and hurt. “Eddie, let’s, let’s just go to bed. Take a shower-”

“Stop treating me like I’m a child!” 

“Fuck, even a child would tell me what’s making them this upset!”

“You wanna know why I’m so upset? Huh?” Eddie smacked a hand against Steve’s chest, pushing his boyfriend away. “Take a guess with your ‘subtlety’ talents and maybe you can fucking figure it out.”

“No, I- Eds, baby-” Steve stopped to take a breath. He looked back at Eddie with more firmness, but he saw the way Steve’s ego was crumbling in his eyes. “Can you please just tell me why are you acting like this? Was it because I did something or-?”

Eddie’s anger flared. It touched the back of his mouth so he spat it all out like a dragon. “Oh, everything you do with your squeaky clean and easy career is the reason why I’m pissed at you. You get all of these stupid roles to play some stupid character Twitter would make discourse for while I have spent the last three years trying to find someone who’s willing to listen to my band play in a goddamn studio! But I keep missing these opportunities for some reason that I’m starting to think that we’re cursed or shit.”

“Eds, it can’t-”

“And don’t you say you know how it feels like because you never knew how to fucking fail, Stevie! Everything you do is just rich executives giving you silver platters. I bet they all want that Harrington blowjob.”

Steve gasped softly and shook his head. He now had his arms around himself like it would protect him. “That’s not true- Why are you even saying these things to me?!”

“Because you’re a jinx! Because you’re Steve Harrington and I hate your dumb luck!”

Eddie’s words echoed across the apartment as he breathed heavily. He wouldn’t be surprised if it went out the windows and into the streets. 

Steve held an unbelievably idiotic expression. Mouth half-open, a slack jaw, glossy eyes that just stared at Eddie without any more light shining in them.

Finally, he spoke so quietly that Eddie had to strain to hear, “Okay… I’m going to Robin’s.”

With that, Steve hurried out, having some decency to not slam the door.

And then it was just Eddie, alone in the kitchen with the nasty thoughts and words that would soon bite back at him.

#oh my goooooooooood this hurt me so bad #i loved it tho

[lilpomelito]

Its so obvious when u read a steddie fic that the autor has never smoked weed, no girl, steve did not smoke 2 joints by himself

#or drunk alcohol #no babes eddie cant drink an entire vodka bottle by himself unless he’s a severe alcoholic #or on the contrary… we can tell you've never actually experienced a hangover

[lilpomelito]

nancy walks into the room to find eddie mid-rant, wailing about the cruelty of deforestation. she’s surprised, not knowing eddie was so passionate about the planet — until mike sighs and tells her eddie’s upset that steve waxed his chest hair

[lilpomelito]

#he has sent dick picks to the homies tho #no homo right?

[lilpomelito]

Modern AU, Eddie and Steve are together and live together, Steve is a paramedic and Eddie is a bartender + fairly successful streamer. He usually plays games where you can create your own character, or at least customize it.

Steve doesn't watch any of the streams, but he's very supportive of Eddie's career.

What he doesn't know is: Eddie always creates a character based on Steve. Always.

Mass Effect? Commander Steve Shepard, brown eyes, hair and tons of bitching from Eddie during the stream that the faces are all ugly and they don't do Steve justice. He goes for the destroy ending because he'll never, EVER have Steve die in a game for good.

Dragon Age: Inquisition? Warrior Steve to the rescue. He also romances Dorian because "of course he would date a sassy gay, duh."

Baldur's Gate 3? Paladin Steven with Oath of Devotion, doing as much good as possible, keeping Gale from becoming a horrible godly being, becoming besties with Karlach and romancing Astarion because "that's just who Steve is, he believes in people even when they don't."

Steve doesn't learn about this for years. But when he does, he completely loses it at a sentence that Eddie always uses to end his stream: "Be good, guys. Always ask: WWSD - What Would Steve Do?"

And yes. There is merch with that.

[lilpomelito]

Robin and Steve both say “gay” or “that’s gay” in response to each other as inside joke. But they have to be really careful in front of other people, out of risk of either outing each other or coming off as an asshole. They slip up often though, because they are two halves of a whole idiot.

One time it happens in front of Eddie.

Steve’s trying to find a straw for his soda, insists it’s taste better that way. Robin has her feet up on Steve’s kitchen table and she snorts unthinkingly with a loud “that’s gay.”

Steve only hums in agreement.

They both forget Eddie standing right there a soda halfway to his lips until he lets a confused noise.

Steve and Robin both panic and scramble as Eddie laughs. He doesn’t point out this is the third time this week it’s happened. He figured out they were both queer ages ago.

Maybe he should up his flirting with Steve, clearly he hasn’t gotten the message.

[lilpomelito]

There are ghosts in Hawkins...

#oh wow this is incredible

[lilpomelito]

STEDDIE OMEGAVERSE LUNCHBOX FIC PART 2

He put the kettle on to boil, then set the ingredients out on the counter. Kiwis, left over chilli from last night, a wrap, quarter of a cabbage, cheese, the special trail mix he has to travel across town for, yogurt. Was that enough protein? Carbs?

The kettle finished boiling. He steeped his teabag in silence, eyes fixed beyond the kitchen window to that small patch on the lawn. He had taken a hand shovel to it yesterday, swung up and down and chopped up the kikuyu until a neat square had revealed itself to him. The back of his neck stung from sunburn when he'd lain down beside Tommy last night. Today he'd hack and slash a second square, then buy the seeds and sow them before Tommy could get up in arms about it'd look to the neighbours-colleagues-friends that they were growing their own vegetables. How it would look, common and subsistant, and that store bought was fine, better actually, since it came with a label and price tag. He should stick to store bought tomatoes.

Steve thought about the note in the lunch box. Tommy hadn't brought a note back since Steve had started making him lunch, when their parents decided on their courtship. Steve had once thought Tommy kept them, saved them in a memory box like the lovesick fool Steve thought they could both be. He'd felt sick watching Tommy crumple it up without reading from across the cafeteria, had left in a fuss and a hurry to stare at himself in the school bathroom mirror and drown himself in self loathing. He had been stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. And stupider still when he wrote the notes every morning since, unable to give up on the charade to himself or others. If he couldn't have that life then he'd fake it.

He drained the last of his tea, then rinsed the mug. He began to chop the cabbage. The note, safely tucked in his grandma's recipe book, heated the burn on the back of his neck. Tommy had given his lunch away. He'd done it before, no doubt, but for some reason the Alpha who'd gotten it this time returned the note. Had scented the note and returned it, and Tommy hadn't even noticed when he'd tossed the lunch box onto the breakfast bar when he'd returned last night. He layered the cabbage onto the centre of the wrap.

He began to grate the cheese. Steve wasn't mad at Tommy, for passing on his lunch or not noticing the other Alphas scent. Tommy had probably been passing off his lunch for years, Steve wasn't so naive to think Tommy cared about handmade lunches. And in a twisted way Steve was glad the note had traveled safely to his kitchen, had sat patiently till Tommy was in his office having a tumbler of whiskey before making itself known. Had told him someone ate his meal, and had enjoyed it. If the only acknowledgment he'd get was from a stranger, he'd take it. He layered the cheese over the cabbage, then the chilli over that. He folded the wrap closed, sliced it in half, then neatly packed the two halves in the first tin.

The kiwi needed peeling, and he slowly worked his knife round and round under the soft furry skin. Tommy complained about the hair on kiwis the same way he complained about the hair on Steve. Got stuck in his teeth, was offputting and disgusting and had no place covering up something - someone - so sweet and meant for his consumption. The kiwi was neatly sliced then stacked and tilted into the second tin. The trail mix went into a reusable cupcake shell, and the yogurt into a small Tupperware next to it.

Steve's notepad sat patiently on the counter, pen poised above it and tensed with thought. The alphas scent had been soft, likely from scent blockers, yet unmistakably peppery and dry. It reminded Steve of the dry grasses in fields beside his grandma's old farm house. In autumn, when hot dry winds beat the land dry in preparation for winter. Hed run out to the fields, uncaring for the cuts the sharp grass left, and huffed the scent up. It smelt different from anything in the suburbs, more alive than the rickety farmhouses thatch, but ancient in comparison to prickly autumn lawns. Beneath that dry grass sat a distinct peppery smell, like spices heated in warm oil. Pepper and... Lemon rind? Steve wanted to fetch the note out and sniff at it again, but reigned himself in. It was still early morning, he was still packing Tommy's lunch and he was still a doting hustband.

His notepad stared up at him, large and white and questioning his hesitation. He could write anything, Tommy wouldn't read it and there was no guarantee the other alphas would get it. Still, as pen went to paper and he carefully looped his letters, he hoped someone would read the note. Would acknowledge him and his effort, his love that went to strangers and came empty and uncaring home. Just for someone to read his note, to know that he existed, somewhere out there, and he made this lunch with his own to hands. He slipped the note into the tin, then clipped them together with a clack and set them aside for Tommy to grab on his way out. Time to make breakfast.

Sorry this took forever to get out lol, I was lazy and avoided writing. As someone who hasn't written creatively since highschool launching myself into a full multichapter fic was probably kinda a bad idea... But I always was more of a deep-end kinda person so I will persevere.

Taglist: @xxbottlecapx @goodolefashionedloverboi @stevesbipanic @monsterloverforhire

#Omg im so invested in thisssss #please tag me if you do another part!

[lilpomelito]

okay but for one single night, Eddie Munson genuinely, with all his heart, believes that Steve is a werewolf.

Steve isnt a werewolf, Steve genuinely has nothing to do with this assumption, and has given no actual reason to make Eddie believe him to be a werewolf, other than the chest hair miraculously growing in so goddamn thick over the course of a few months and the whole. droopy puppy eyes thing he's got going on.

but this one specific full moon night. Eddie happens upon the most beautiful, big brown wolf which wanders into the trailer park looking for food.

it's actually a very lost and incredibly docile wolf dog that someone stupidly bred and let out, but he's very lost, and hungry, and the second Eddie gets a peek at those big brown, incredibly sad puppy eyes, he's calling the big baby Steve and thats that. Thats Steve.

until Eddie panics in the morning because the wolf didn't turn back and Dustin tiredly informs him that Steve is at work, what the fuck Eddie.

#HELP 💀

[lilpomelito]

“Whatever, now he’s just somebody that I used to know.” Steve shakes his head in annoyance.

Dustin won’t let it go. He’s still trying to get Steve to go with him to visit Eddie. As if he wants to travel across state lines to visit his ex boyfriend. Ex being the keyword.

“Yeah but he used to be your boyfriend. Come on, Steve. Eddie would be so surprised.”

“No shit. I’m sure he’d throw open the door and just be so elated to see me standing there. Toss his arms up and cheer with glee.” Steve swears Dustin better hear the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“He will! I swear.”

“Have you absolutely lost it? Do you not remember how he broke up with me? He sent Jeff to my place to pick up his shit. Couldn’t even bother to do it himself. Then he changed his fucking number, Dustin. Does that sound like someone that would be happy to see me? He couldn’t risk the tiny chance that I would reach out to him. He went far enough to avoid me that he moved and didn’t say a fucking thing. So no, I won’t be joining you on this lovely weekend trip to Chicago. And for the love of god, stop asking me.” He punctuates his point by slamming the refrigerator door shut.

“Sorry, ok, I’ll stop.”

Steve glares over his shoulder at the boy. He can’t believe Dustin could have forgotten how painful their break up had been for Steve. Eddie dumping him out of the blue and subsequently disappearing like none of it meant anything to him. As if their relationship was just a smudge to be wiped away with a damp cloth.

Steve’s just made it to the angry stage of it all and for Dustin to completely disregard his feelings is especially crushing. He knows their relationship veers closer to a sibling connection. It’s why Dustin’s usual prodding doesn’t drive him as crazy as it does others but there is a time and place, and the subject matter of Eddie Munson is never an option. Not to Steve at least.

“I just thought-“

“Don’t,” Steve cuts the boy off. “It’s over. I’ve accepted it, you should too.”

Dustin nods silently with a twist to his mouth.

“I beg you, never speak to me about him ever again. If he wants to act like I don’t exist, then I get to do the same thing.”

“No, but Steve, that’s not- he asks about you all the time!” Dustin rushes out before Steve can strangle him.

Steve whips around scowling at the boy. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not, no, he does! I swear, Steve.” Dustin rushes to keep up pace with Steve when he turns heel and rushes out of the kitchen.

“Stop it,” Steve grits out.

“I swear on my mother. Every time I call him he asks how you’re doing. Or what classes you’re taking. Or how your new job is.”

Steve’s fingers are digging into his palms as he fists his hands at his sides. He’s trying so hard not to lose his shit right now. He’s breathing heavy as Dustin stomps behind him down the hallway.

“I swear, just come with me. He misses you.”

“SHUT UP,” Steve spins around and yells in Dustin’s face. “No he doesn’t! No he doesn’t! If he did then he wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have left without saying a word. He wouldn’t have ripped my heart out and destroyed me.” Steve’s anger is fizzing over into sorrow and he knows he’s failing at keeping the tears at bay.

“Steve?” Dustin’s voice cracks.

“NO!” Steve throws his finger in Dustin’s face. “I don’t want to hear it. I loved him and he betrayed me. He means nothing to me now. Nothing. Do you understand?” Dustin nods nervously. “He’s just some guy, now.”

Steve sighs with a heavy heart. Every muscle in his body is immediately exhausted. He thought he was done having to think about Eddie Munson. Thought he was past the point of letting the man get to him but here he is shaking profusely and on the verge of breaking down because Dustin is asking him to go on a road trip.

“Dustin, please.” Steve asks shakily. He’s so close to tears. “If you care about me even a little, you won’t do this to me. You don’t understand. He was just your friend, brother in arms and all. He was my-,” Steve chokes back the lump in his throat. “He was my everything. And if what you’re saying is true, then Eddie can try and fix this himself. He can get in his fucking piece of shit van and drive his goddamn ass back here and tell me himself. I’m the victim here. He did this so he can fix it. Now get out.”

“Steve,” Dustin pleads.

“No. Get. Out.”

Dustin nods solemnly then shuffles around gathering his things, and leaving Steve alone a few minutes later. Once Steve hears the front door close with a soft click, he collapses onto his couch and cries into one of the throw pillows.

#noooooo my heart 😫💔😭 #this was so good but it HURT #i loved the angst #if you ever continue op please tag me 🙏🏼

[lilpomelito]

STWG prompt 18/4/24

prompt: the beemer

pairing/character(s): steddie

-

"I didn't see your van outside, you need a ride home?" Gareth asks as everyone's packing up their dice sets.

Eddie looks up from scribbling notes down about important character actions with a hum, and notices that the concerned look on Gareth's face is mirrored by Jeff and Freak.

The freshmen members of the club aren't interested, whispering excitedly amongst themselves about something that will probably cause Eddie problems at their next session. (He catches some complaints about biking home too. Losers.)

"What? No, no, don't worry man." He assures with a smile, and goes back to his notes. Steve's picking him up today. They have a date. Which, sure, he's been on a few official dates with Steve now, but they still make him so... jittery and excited.

He shakes his head at the half-finished page of his notebook and readies his pen. He can't forget that Mike now has a bag of holding, so he writes that down and then closes the notebook and nods to himself, satisfied.

When he looks back up his bandmates are still staring at him in concern.

"What?"

"You literally never leave your van at home." Jeff points out, and then Freak adds on:

"You call it your child sometimes."

"Hey. Pac-Van is a she, thank you very much." Eddie says, "But seriously, it's fine. I just got a ride this morning and he's picking me up too."

He hasn't gotten round to telling them about him and Steve yet. He knows they'll take great pleasure in making fun of him getting with a jock. You know, because of all those rants he likes to go on at the lunch tables about said jocks... Whatever.

"From Wayne?"

"No." He rolls his eyes at the questioning and shoves his stuff into his backpack, then makes a quick decision. Fuck it, "I promise I'll be fine, you big babies. Harrington's a good driver."

"Harrington?!" They all ask in sync, and that gets the attention of their newer recruits, who are still chattering away. Their heads all snap over to them.

"Why're you talking about Steve?" Mike asks, looking vaguely disgusted. Dustin elbows him in the side.

"Don't worry your angsty little head about it, Wheeler." Eddie says with a grin, and then finally picks up his backpack, "Now I have places to be and people to see so I trust you all to leave this room as you found it? I gotta go."

And with that he leaves the room, ignoring Freak's voice from behind him.

"I thought he was just giving you a ride home."

He makes it to the parking lot just as the beemer pulls in, and finds a smile appearing on his face at the sight. Because he's feeling dramatic, he does a wild little wave at the car. He can't see Steve yet, but he knows that made him chuckle, or at least smile.

"Hey, taxi for Munson?" Steve yells out of his window as he slows the car to a stop, and Eddie's smile widens.

"Oh, we're roleplaying tonight, are we?" He asks as he walks around to the passenger side and gets in. He's pretty sure Steve rolls his eyes at him, but he's also pretty sure he's doing it in a fond way. Hopefully.

Steve doesn't drive off immediately, a glint of something intense in his gaze as he looks at Eddie. He's leaning toward Eddie a little too, and having Steve Harrington's full attention on him is not something Eddie's used to yet, so an unbidden blush appears on his cheeks.

"Good day?"

"Great day, Stevie."

"Good. Can't wait to hear about it over dinner." Steve nods, and his eyes flicker down to his lips for a second, and then he leans out of Eddie's space to start the car up again.

Right. Public space. Homophobic small town. Yadda yadda, kissing can wait until they're safely indoors.

Eddie's too busy fiddling with the radio as the beemer drives off to notice Freak, Gareth and Jeff stood staring at the car from in front of the school doors, perplexed looks on their faces, as the freshmen run over to the bike racks. But he'll definitely be hearing all about their thoughts at band practice.