#but they did manage to get robin’s back

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2

pt. 1

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.

He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.

Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.

Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.

Little shit.

Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.

Looking at you, Lucas.

Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.

Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.

Until he did, with Eddie.

Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.

Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.

Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.

"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.

Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"

"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.

Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.

She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.

Fuck, he loved her.

"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.

Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.

"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.

"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.

Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.

"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.

Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.

Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"

Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"

Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."

Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."

Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.

Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."

Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."

Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"

"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."

"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.

Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.

"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."

Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.

Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.

Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.

Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.

"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.

"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."

Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"

"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.

Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."

Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."

The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."

Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."

Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"

It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.

Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.

Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso

(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)

#okay so now it is a thing #no more idk i promise #also this has a happy ending i promise #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin #platonic with a capital p #steve and robin #I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) #ao3 #ficlet #angst #hurt/comfort

[hbyrde36]

For my beloved @penny00dreadful 💜🖤

My fandom bestie, writing soulmate, and one of my absolute favorite people in the entire world.

Happy (early) Birthday 🌈👠💖

Huge thanks to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help in making this story come to life!

WC: 3483 | Ch 1/4 | AO3 <-

Chapter 1: Over the Rainbow

To be perfectly honest, Steve always felt a little unsafe riding around in the van with Eddie. It wasn’t that he was a bad driver, per se, but he was definitely a distracted one, constantly needing to be reminded to keep his eyes on the road instead of the tape deck. He also tended to treat speed limits as more of a suggestion than something enforceable by law.

Tonight was no exception, the feeling of unease even worse than usual because of the storm raging outside. They shouldn’t have even been on the road in these conditions, a fact Steve had tried in vain to convince Eddie of. Hawkins was under a tornado warning for fuck’s sake! But the other boy wouldn’t hear it, their errand was too important.

They had plenty of beer, but they needed snacks. 

According to Eddie there was absolutely no way they could enjoy Friday the 13th part 27, or whatever ridiculous number sequel it was that he wanted to watch, properly without the three basic food groups: Pringles, Twizzlers, and some form of chocolate.

They were having a movie night, just him and Eddie. It was no big deal, really. Steve wasn’t nervous about it at all. They’d been getting along fine since Vecna had been defeated, better than fine! They just… hadn’t spent a lot of one-on-one time together. 

Typically, at least Robin, and some-or-all of the kids, would join them on a night like this, but the kids were set on going to the arcade, and Robin—who’d finally gotten over her fear of driving and managed to get her license on the first try—was taking Vickie out for what may or may not be a date, and borrowing Steve’s car to do it.

Therein lay the source of the problem, actually. It was usually Robin’s job to procure movie night snacks, and in her absence neither of them had thought to pick up the slack.

Which is what had led them to this moment. 

Flying down the road at 15 miles per hour over the posted speed limit, minimum, in a fucking downpour, at night. They were just asking for a deer or some shit to come bounding across the road and then—BAM!

As if on cue, just as Steve had the thought, something did indeed dart out from the side of the road to cross in front of them. Fortunately, for once, Eddie was actually paying attention. He slammed on the brakes, simultaneously jerking the wheel, allowing them to narrowly miss hitting the poor wild animal. 

Unfortunately, that combination of evasive maneuvers caused them to spin out, and sent the van careening into a ditch on the side of the road. The vehicle flipped, and Steve had just enough time to think how glad he was that they’d both been wearing their seatbelts, before something from the rear came flying up to smack him hard in the back of the head. 

-

Steve came to slowly, blinking awake, wincing as the bright light of day attacked his retinas. 

Day?

But it’d been night, hadn’t it? It was dark, and it was raining, and…

The evening before came back to him in a sudden rush. The van sliding across the road, the sickening crunch of metal as it rolled, gravity doing what gravity does. He didn't remember anything after that, but it looked like somehow they’d managed to land upright in the end at least.

He rubbed at the nape of his neck, pleasantly surprised to find no lumps, bumps, or blood, nor did he feel the telltale nausea that sometimes came with a really bad blow to the head. He wondered if Eddie– 

Oh my god, Eddie!

Steve looked to the left, finding the driver's seat empty and was instantly gripped by panic. He scrambled out of the car, nearly falling on his ass in his hurry.

“Eddie?” He called out, fear churning in his gut. “Eddie?!”

He spun a circle, relief washing over him as he found the other boy only a few feet away. 

Eddie was sitting on a large tree trunk, rocking ever-so-slightly back and forth, gnawing on his fingernails as he stared at the backside of the van.

“There you are! Dude, you scared the shit out of–” Steve trailed off as he rushed to Eddie’s side to see what he was looking at, and swallowed hard. It was a pair of legs in striped stockings wearing a killer pair of red heels, sticking out from under the rear tires. The shoes glittered cheerfully in the sunlight. “Oh, fuck.”

Eddie dropped his head into his hands. “I thought I swerved in time. I thought we missed it.”

“I thought it was a deer.” Steve mumbled.

Eddie cut him an annoyed glare. “Clearly not, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve said softly. He knew Eddie well enough by now to tell when he was scared—when he felt guilty, even if he was trying to act otherwise. “This isn’t your fault. It was an accident.”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. “Tell that to the cops! They thought I was a murderer once already. It’s only been a few months where I can actually be seen in public without someone calling me a devil worshiper, or worse. Now they’ll think they have proof that I really am a killer!”

“You know Hop will go to bat for you again, and I’m here. I can be a witness.”

“That’s not all.” 

“It somehow gets worse than us accidentally killing some lady?”

Eddie sighed, raking a hand over his face as he rose from the stump. He turned, gesturing to something behind them, but Steve was still stuck on those legs. He couldn’t look away. 

“Why the hell was someone out in shoes like that in the middle of the night anyway?” Steve mused. “It was pouring.” 

“Steve, look.”

“What if we just said I was driving? Then we– “

“Steve!” Eddie gripped his upper arms, forcibly turning him around. 

Steve’s eyes went wide. They were standing right on the edge of a little town. Little, not only in the way that the town itself was small in, like, area, though it was that—about the size of one city block—but for the fact that all the colorful little buildings and bungalows were miniature. The whole thing was surrounded by gardens laden with all sorts of beautiful plants, shrubs, and trees, with flowers of every shade in bloom.

“What the fuck,” Steve breathed, taking a few tentative steps into the vivid village.

“Yeah.”

“Eddie, what the fuck?! Where are we? And why is everything in technicolor?”

Eddie stepped up from behind to clap him on the back. 

“I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore, big boy.”

Steve shot him a look over his shoulder. “What was your first clue?”

“I see where Dustin gets his tone from.” Eddie mumbled.

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “Do you… do you think it’s like the Upside Down?” 

“In the sense that it’s another dimension? Maybe, but I don't get the feeling this one has any terrifying monsters. It’s too clean. It even smells nice, like roses and shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. Eddie had a point, nothing about this place screamed danger. “The Upside Down always smelled like mold and rotting flesh.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“What do we do? How do we get back?” Steve asked, not really expecting Eddie to have all the answers, but he did his best thinking out loud with company. 

“No idea.”

“Should we start walking? Maybe try and find a payphone?”

Eddie scoffed. “A payphone?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

The other boy was quiet for a moment, a rare occurrence, but eventually threw his hands up in defeat. “No, actually. So, I guess walking it is.”

Steve turned back, intending on pilfering the van for things that might be useful, like water, weapons, or one of the many lighters that littered the floor, when something in the distance caught his eye.  

“What the hell is that?” He asked aloud, pointing up to the sky at a giant pink bubble that was headed straight for them. 

Eddie squinted up at it. “I think there's something inside.”

“Should we run?”

“Maybe we should pop it.”

“You just said there was something inside! Wouldn’t that let it out?”

Eddie shrugged.

In no time, the bubblegum colored sphere settled near them and faded away, leaving behind a woman with long dark wavy hair. She held a long scepter, and wore a tall crown and a poofy ball gown, of all things. There was also something very familiar about her face. 

“Wait.”

“No.”

“Is that?”

“It can’t be.”

“Joyce?!” They both said, in tandem.

The woman in the ballgown tilted her head. “Who’s Joyce?”

“You are.” Steve said. 

She shook her head, offering him a kind smile. “I’m afraid not. I’m Glinda, the Witch of the North, and who might you be?”

Eddie leaned in, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “Is she serious?”

Steve snorted a laugh, quickly trying to hide it with a cough.

“What’s so funny?” Not-Joyce asked. 

“Nothing, uh, I’m Steve, and this is Eddie.”

She stepped carefully around them, pointing her sparkly stick at the half-a-dead-body that jutted out from under Eddie’s van. “What do you boys have to say for yourselves?”

“I’m sorry?” Eddie said, sobering quickly. At the same time Steve insisted, “It was an accident!”

“Stop giving them a hard time, Glinda. They did us a favor!” A strangely familiar voice called out from behind a nearby bush, and a moment later 6 small-ish figures came popping out of the surrounding foliage.

“They killed The Wicked Witch of the East!” The one with curly hair shouted, as the others cheered.

Eddie jumped. “Jesus H. Christ, where did all you little fuckers come from?!”

“Oh my god.” Steve muttered under his breath.

It was the kids, except they were actually kids. The 11-year-old versions of Dustin, Will, Lucas, Mike, Max, and El pushed and shoved their way past each other, all trying to be the first to approach.

“Who you calling little?” Baby-Lucas said.

“Okay, what the hell is going on here guys? Why are you so young, and what’s with the outfits?” Steve asked, completely dumbfounded.

Once he’d gotten over the initial shock of their appearance, Steve realized they were all wearing costumes or something. The girls wore pink frilly dresses and tall pointed bonnets, something he knew for a fact Max would never have agreed to, and the boys had these funny little shorts with long socks and matching tops—except for Dustin, who donned long pants and an even longer coat, along with a striped bow tie and a giant pocket watch hanging from his side. 

Eddie looked similarly stunned. “How did you get us here? And how did you get Joyce in on it?”

“Who’s Joyce?” Mini-Mike-Wheeler asked.

“I think they mean me.” Not-Joyce said.

Tiny Dustin’s face twisted up in confusion. “But that’s not your name.”

She shrugged. “I tried telling them that.”

Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Okay fine, she’s Glinda. Who are you?”

“Oh! I'm the mayor of Munchkinland.” A wide, gummy smile spread across tiny-Dustin’s face as he stuck his arm out, er, up, for a handshake. 

Steve stared down at him, unimpressed. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I'm done playing whatever game this is. How do we–”

A sudden explosion went off in the middle of the town square only a few yards away, creating a thick cloud of red smoke. On instinct Steve and Eddie both moved to place themselves between the oncoming threat and the Munchkins. 

The air cleared quickly, revealing a woman in a long black dress and matching cloak, carrying a broom and wearing a hard scowl.

Steve blinked at her, then looked at Eddie for confirmation that they were seeing the same thing. 

“Mrs. Click?”

Eddie nodded.

Her complexion was all wrong but the resemblance was uncanny.

Steve leaned in, whispering, “If that’s Click, who do you think the one we hit was?” 

Eddie grinned. “O’Donnel.”

“I am the Wicked Witch of the West. You killed my sister. Prepare to die.” The newcomer declared loudly, sneering at the two of them.

Eddie rounded on her, pointing a finger right in her face. “Look lady, we’ve had just about enough–”

Steve grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. “What my friend here means to say is, it was an accident and we’re very sorry.”

“I’ll show you an accident, young man,” The Wicked Witch said, raising her green hands and long pointy nails threateningly in their direction.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Glinda raised her voice, as she too moved to protect the little ones.

“The ruby slippers! Yes!” The Wicked Witch smiled gleefully and made a beeline for Eddie’s van. 

When her back was to them, Glinda winked at Steve and did some kind of wavy-woo with her stick, which, in hindsight he realized was a wand, and the red shoes disappeared from the dead body’s feet right before their eyes, reappearing in Steve’s hand a second later.

“They’re gone!” The Wicked Witch gasped, whirling on the spot and narrowing her eyes at him.

“Why is it always me?” Steve grumbled, resigned to the fight, only to find Eddie taking a protective step in front of him as she approached. 

“You! Give them back. I’m the only one who knows how to use them. They’re of no use to you!”

She wasn’t wrong, but Steve felt like maybe it wasn’t the best idea to give what he suspected was a powerful magical object to a woman whose sister they’d just murdered. All those months of spectating while the party played D&D were finally paying off. 

“Put them on and stay tight inside of them, Steve.” Glinda said, her tone grave. “Their magic must be very powerful, or she wouldn't want them so badly.”

Nailed it.

“You stay out of this, Glinda, or I'll fix you as well!”

The Good Witch waved her off. “You have no power here. Now be gone before someone drops a… a… a…” She stuttered, waffling as if searching for the right word.

“A van?” Eddie supplied.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Eddie dear.” She cleared her throat, pausing for what Steve could only assume was dramatic effect. “Now, be gone before someone drops a van on you, too!”

“Very well, but I'll be watching.” The Wicked Witch hissed, zeroing in on Steve once again. “I’ll get you my pretty-boy, and your little dog too!”

“Hey! Who are you calling a dog? You looked in the mirror lately?! Witch.” Eddie spat. 

She huffed, raising her broomstick high above her head and bringing it down hard against the road at her feet, sending more red smoke billowing up from the spot to quickly engulf her form. When it was gone, so was she.

“Little dog. Pfft.” Eddie muttered.

“It’s the hair.” Little-Max said, matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” Tiny-Dustin agreed, nodding as he rubbed stubby fingers against his small chin. “The word scruffy does come to mind, to be fair.” 

“Watch it, Mayor.” Eddie warned.

“That, and the way you were guarding your friend there.” Little-Max spoke again.

Eddie glowered as she dissolved into giggles that quickly spread through the small crowd. Soon all the Munchkins, as well as Glinda, were clutching their sides with laughter.

Steve didn’t get what was so funny. 

“Don’t listen to them, Munson. I like your hair. It’s very… metal.” 

Eddie put on a show of rolling his eyes, but under it all was a shy pleased smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”

“That’s rough, boys. You’ve made quite the enemy. The sooner you get out of Oz the better I think.” Glinda said, when the laughter had finally faded. 

“And how do we do that exactly?” Eddie asked. “The van’s broken down, and even if it wasn't, I have no idea where the hell we are or how we even got here! Let alone how to get back to Hawkins.”

“The only person who might be able to help you would be The Great and Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Okay, I'll bite. How do we find this Great Wizard?” It took all his strength not to put those last two words in air quotes.

“He lives in the Emerald city.” She said.

“And how do we get there?”

“Follow the yellow brick road, of course.”

Eddie shook his head. “Of course, she says.”

“Do you not have yellow brick roads where you come from?”

“No.” Steve snapped. He was already so tired of this shit, and somehow he knew that the end of, whatever this was, was nowhere in sight. 

“My, my, you two are grumpy.” Glinda muttered. Without another word she took a few steps away from them and waved her wand, conjuring a new pink bubble around herself. 

“Wait, you can’t just leave us here with these kids!” Steve shouted, but it was too late, The Good Witch had already started to float away. 

“We’re not kids, y’know.” Tiny-Dustin said.

“You look like kids.”

“Whatever.” The boy shrugged, taking one of their hands in each of his. “Come on, we’ll walk you to the edge of town.”

-

The edge of town turned out to be roughly 10 feet away from where the van had landed, which wasn’t a surprise given the compact nature of Munchkinland as a whole, but it did have Steve wondering why they even bothered. 

At least the kids—sorry, the Munchkins, had been helpful enough to point out the yellow brick road. 

As if they could have missed it.

Eddie let out a long whistle. “Wow, that is YELL-ow. Like, I know they said it, but I guess I expected it to be dull or dirty or something, not this bright sunshine color. Kinda reminds me of that sweater you used to wear.”

Steve tucked the pair of heels awkwardly under his arm and started down the path, wishing he had a bag or something to put them in. Holding onto them like this was going to get annoying fast. 

“Aren't you going to put those on first?” Eddie asked.

“Are you serious, Munson?” Steve slowed his pace, turning to gape at him.

Eddie grinned, bumping their elbows together when he caught up. “What, afraid you can’t walk in ‘em?”

“I wear a size 13 men’s shoe, they’re never gonna fit me!”

For a fraction of a second Eddie’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Jesus, guess I was onto something with that nickname, big boy.”

Steve rolled his eyes, shoving the shoes in Eddie’s direction. “Why don’t you put them on?”

“No, that Glinda lady gave them to you, expressly.”

“I'm telling you they’re not gonna fit.”

“Magic shoes, Steve.” Eddie wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “Magic shoes! Just try, I'm sure it’ll be fine.”

Steve glared as he toed his sneakers off, tying the laces together before throwing them over Eddie’s shoulder, and finally slipped his feet into the sequin adorned pumps. 

They fit like a glove.

He twisted at the waist, glancing behind his own back, sticking first one leg out, and then the other, as he looked down at himself. “Hmm, they do make my ass look nice, I guess.” 

He also just so happened to be wearing his date night jeans, the ones that hugged him in all the right places, and with the addition of the shoes? It was a good look, if he did say so himself. 

A high pitched noise escaped Eddie’s throat. “As if you needed any more help in that department.” He mumbled under his breath.

Steve swallowed hard. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing.”

Eddie was always doing that—flirting, making little comments and then pretending he hadn’t. It drove Steve crazy, never sure if Eddie actually meant it, or if he just liked to tease—not quite sure which answer he hoped was the truth.

Steve turned on his heel, literally, and strode away, tired of wasting time. His first few steps were a bit wobbly, a little like a newborn calf learning to walk, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly. He wasn’t, like, swaying his hips side-to-side confident or anything—yet—but he was reasonably sure he wasn’t going to randomly fall over. It was good enough for now. 

“What are we looking for again?” He asked without turning around. 

“The Emerald city.” Eddie replied, falling into step beside him again, cheeks a little pink. “The little guy who looked like Will said we’d know it when we saw it.”

“Nicely vague, figures.” 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. They seem to take everything very literally around here, so my guess is if we see a place with a lot of big bright green buildings, that’ll be the one.”

Ch 2: Yellow Brick Road

Ch 3 (coming 4/27)

Ch 4 ( coming 4/28)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter(s)!

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie wizard of oz #post season 4 #eddie lives #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #gift fic #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #the party

[munsonsreputation]

hii! omg so i rlly love your writing its incredible. i have two requests but you can choose whichever one! the first one is an imagine w steve and the reader based off of call it what you want by taylor. orr a hurt/comfort imagine where the reader is basically comforting steve maybe aft he’s had a fight w his parents or something? again i rlly love your writing literally look forward for new writeups all the time!

at least we did one thing right

a/n: this one has been sitting in my inbox since forever and i managed to stir up this cute little thing. ciwyw is one of my favorite tracks of reputation and i can't wait to get the re-recording of this (hopefully soon!!!)

The party was in full swing, and by party you meant all of your close friends who are gathered in Steve’s living room and kitchen entertaining themselves while you and Steve hid away in his backyard like a routine.

His gaze flickered through the sliding doors, mock concern etched on his features as he mutters under his breath, “I swear to god, they better not pick the pineapple off the other slices.”

You turned your head to see what he was going on about, and sure enough the teenage boys were ravaging the kitchen like they hadn’t eaten in days. At this rate, they were like bottomless pits, and you weren’t quite sure how they were able to put away a portion of food without blinking.

Still, you snorted, swatting a hand over his thigh and garnering his attention back to you.

“They’re growing boys and their appetites are different from when they were twelve. We can order another if they’re still hungry.” You shrugged.

He shook his head, shifting to pull your legs over and across his lap.

“I ordered pineapple for you, and you should at least get to have one slice of it.” Steve insisted, though your orbs were too clouded with heart eyes to see the irritation he wore for the innocently selfish boys.

You pursed your lips into a tight smile, hooking your arm over his bicep, tugging yourself closer to him, “You’re so cute for someone who hogs all the blankets at night.”

He looked down at you, shaking his head with a mushy smile coming over him, “Hey you’re the one who likes the house freezing!”

Steve rumbles a string of laughter into the air, using his free arm that’s not being clung onto, to drape over your frame, practically wrenching your whole body onto his as you begin joining in the amusement. You give up on trying to get the upper-hand, letting yourself sit comfortably in his lap, your joined hands resting on either side of your bodies and you lean down to lay your head on his chest.

You snuggled deeper into the fabric of his shirt, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne. It’s a simple pleasure of yours to be wrapped up in his arms, high above the whole scene, in your own little world like nothing else mattered.

“You’re my portable space heater, got all the warmth I need,” you declared, pressing kind kisses over his chest feeling his lips brush over your hairline.

Steve thought he must have done something right in this lifetime in order to give himself to you in a way he hadn’t given anyone else before. He doesn’t care that it’s simply you two sneaking away just to act like corny teenagers again. All of that fades into nothing when you look at him the way you do.

But before you could savor the moment, a familiar voice interrupted from above, followed by the squeak of rusty wheels gliding across the frame.

“Are you guys having fun out here without us!” Robin shouted, ringing out closer as she approached you both, but of course not without the presence of Eddie by her side.

You sat up, laughing, while Steve groaned and craned his neck to greet them. “You guys have to stop sneaking off to do whatever this is,” Eddie teased, gesturing between you both with a lighthearted smirk.

Steve grunted, “You’re just mad you don’t have a girlfriend to love on,” he shot back, pulling you down by the wrists to meet his lips in a messy kiss that left you giggling.

Eddie feigned revulsion and quickly retreated back inside, while Robin settled beside your bodies, her eyes twinkling with affection. “I still think you guys are adorable, even though this sneaking off thing is getting old.”

Robin had always been rooting for the two of you — there was just something about you both that made perfect sense, and when you finally bit the bullet, it was safe to say she was celebratory about the whole thing.

“We just don’t want to bore you guys with our public displays of affection,” you teased, sharing a knowing smile with Robin who threw her head back and laughed at all the times your friends would scold you both to cut out the lovey dovey acts.

Steve interjected, “Last time we cuddled on the couch you kicked us out of movie night…in my house!”

Robin rolled her eyes, pointing an accusing finger at him. “That’s because we could all smell the sexual tension between you guys. Seriously, just get it out of your systems before we get here.”

You slapped your hands over your flushed face, groaning behind them, “Noted. We’ll remember that for next time.” You promised, shaking your head.

Steve couldn’t contain his laughter, his eyes crinkling as he turned to his best friend with a pleading look. “Now, can you please leave and let me make out with my girlfriend in peace?”

She rose up out of the lounger with a grin, “If there’s one thing you guys did right, it’s each other… and I don’t mean sex!” With that she disappeared back inside, leaving you both to yourselves.

Steve gently pulled your hands away from your face, his soft smiling easing away any idling embarrassment that you knew was all in good fun. He brought your hands closer to his lips, spreading kisses across your knuckles that made your stomach flip with warmth.

“Well, at least did one thing right,” He murmured, raising his brows up at you as you blushed and nodded.

“We sure did.” You whispered, before cupping his cheeks and bringing yourself down to him.

Your eyes fluttered shut, closing the distance between your lips, fitting themselves together like a daydream. The jokers and the drama queens could take all the swings and call it whatever they wanted to — as long as you and Steve knew it was love.

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[loveinhawkins]

Hi! hope you feel better soon! And hope you get some much needed rest in the meantime! For the one word prompt: post S4 Steddie, “hazy”.

thank you so much & thank you for inspiring a little moment about rest & healing 💕 •one word ficlet prompts

Steve finds that the couch next to Eddie’s hospital bed is ridiculously comfortable.

Eddie’s talking to the nurse—he can’t really catch what’s being said, the world growing warm and hazy—but he can hear that Eddie’s making her laugh. Knows that’s important, something that would’ve been unthinkable not so long ago: that Eddie feels brave enough to let something of himself shine through. That he can still trust in the kindness of certain people, even strangers.

Steve vaguely hears the nurse leave, glances over to see Eddie within touching distance, perched on the side of his bed. He’s folding some T-shirts in preparation for getting discharged—he’d joked when Steve had first arrived that it’s the most organised he’s ever been.

He must’ve washed his hair this morning, left it to air dry: some of the ends are still damp, and it’s gone kinda wispy around his face. It’s a calming sight, leaves Steve grateful that he no longer associates it with the dive into Lover’s Lake; now it’s something softer.

Something safe.

Eddie looks up. Smiles.

“Uh, Steve, with all due respect,” he begins, which makes Steve snort; he’s come to know it as one of Eddie’s sayings, preceding all manner of teasing objections, “what the hell?”

Steve would usually ask, “What now?” in feigned exasperation, unable to hide his amusement—but his head feels suddenly heavy, and all he manages is, “Hmm?”

Eddie’s smile grows, showing his dimples. He reaches over, and he places a hand on Steve’s knee, presses down gently, “Are you, like, training to be a contortionist?”

Steve feels the warmth of the touch through his jeans; he realises then that he’s sitting awkwardly: one knee bent towards his chest; his neck crooked, arms folded; his whole body instinctively angled toward the edge of the couch.

It’s a position he’s perfected it over the years, honed in all kinds of makeshift beds—most recently the chairs of hospital waiting rooms, leaving space for one of the kids to rest on his shoulder. Snatching rest wherever he could throughout the nightmare of that Spring Break, never quite relaxing fully: ready to move, to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

He remembers Robin tactfully making sure that the RV was empty while everyone else stayed outside; his side still aching, Steve stretched out on the seat in the back. Even while he was alone, he only managed a fitful doze—nearly fell off his seat as he wrenched himself awake at the slightest disturbance.

He can’t find that urgency now. Hasn’t needed to for…

He must have zoned out for a couple seconds, because Eddie’s standing now. Watching fondly.

“if you’re tired,” Eddie says quietly, “you should sleep.”

And Steve hears the shape of it, that deliberation in how Eddie says certain things, where he slows down just a little—and Steve knows it must be because it’s something Eddie’s once been told by his uncle.

There’s a blanket getting draped across him now. Eddie touches his knee again, and this time Steve relaxes fully, feels himself slowly tilt back. There’s a pillow beneath his head that wasn’t there before.

Eddie smoothes out the blanket with care. Steve’s view is getting dimmer, a drowsy blur of eyelashes.

But he can see that Eddie’s smiling again. Hears him make a soft, jokingly disapproving tsk.

“Close your eyes,” Eddie whispers, with such affection.

Oh, you love me, Steve thinks.

It’s a thought that drifts in, honeyed and slow, like it’s really been there all along—that perhaps before, in the white-knuckled days of survival, he was too afraid for it. Did not have room to feel it.

Steve’s eyes close.

He falls asleep so completely, knowing that Eddie will still be there, that time isn’t running out anymore; he can stay right where he is. He has room to breathe, to just be—room for the next thought, the next moment, for every moment to come.

#this was fuelled by ginger tea & sleepiness ❤️ #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[canonbydeduction]

In the end, there wasn’t much left of Steve Harrington. No will, of course (because what nineteen year old would write one, even if he knew he was bones walking) but then again, no relatives showed up to sweep it all away.

So when the last of the red was draining from the sky, a ragged collection of teens (but no Robin, never again, because how would there ever be a world with Robin but no Steve) let themselves in with a spare key. Slipped into a hand years ago, one of countless moments. They didn’t glance at the rest of the house, because Steve may have finally filled it with people and joy, but he could never make it his. They climbed the stairs in silence, exhaustion and grief, and pulled open the door.

“God, that plaid’s still awful,” said Nancy, cracking into the silence. And it felt wrong, to be laughing in the room of a dead man, but they could do nothing else.

Taking sobering breaths, wiping tears from eyes and cheeks (joy and sadness and unidentifiable bittersweetness) they begin to spread throughout. Dustin unearthed the spare nailbat from beneath the bed and held it close, heedless of the nails. A high school diploma, a second sailor’s uniform (“for Robin?” “Yeah. For Robin.”), an album full of photos of the kids. But in the end there was a pile on the bed that seemed so so small to be all that was left of a person.

And they piled into the beemer, more people than it was ever supposed to hold, for one last time. And a house in Loch Nora lost the last bit of its light.

#…I’m sorry #I went to my great aunt’s condo today to help clean it out #and it was the last place I saw her #so it just hit me and I had to write this #Robin is also gone to be clear #they never got back a body for Steve #but they did manage to get robin’s back #they bury Steve’s spare uniform with her #Steve’s parents do come back eventually #there’s a funeral #the kids all show up uninvited #they already did a real one of course #but to make sure that people who actually knew him were there #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #the party #angst #sorry #deductions

[bluerosefox]

A Little Robin

Has this been thought of before? (If so someone please, please send me it. I wanna read)

Either due to something his parents made to catch ghosts or some kind of new "I'm gonna end Jack but my soon to be step-son needs to be out of the way" plan by Vlad, Danny (as Phantom) gets trapped in a doll, a bird(robin) doll/plushy.

Somehow, someway the doll get sold or sent to Gotham and is picked up by Dick one day while shopping who decides to give the doll to one of his brothers (or Steph cause she was a Robin as well -slides on mutli-shipper shades- I'm not picky) cause it's Dick trying to be funny. (Or he keeps it cause it's a Robin plush)

Danny, whose slowly regaining his powers even in plush form (maybe whatever got him stuck in the plush is wearing off over time, not enough that he can get out though), is trying very hard to get back home (he tired mailing himself once but someone almost caught him moving about, let's go with like Toy Story rules). He doesn't want to get caught in Gotham cause of the bats, when he finds out his 'owner' is part of the batfam he REALLY doesn't want to get caught. Cue many moments of Danny trying to get his way home under the radar.

And... he tries very hard not to crush on his 'owner' too as well...

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #tim drake #stephanie brown #leaving it pairing open to any of the robins tbh #Danny is playing the Toy Story rules game #he really doesnt want to get the Bats radar #he has enough problems please #each day his powers are slowly coming back #he did manage to text/email one of his friends for help but it was very short handed #hes also trying not to hard crush on his 'owner' btw #but its hard cause they cuddle him in their sleep and Danny is a sucker for cuddles #the family does think something is 'off' about the robin doll tbh #some more than others

[scintillyyy]

anyways as much as it's fun to joke about tim being an emotional support robin that bruce relied on, the thing is that their early dynamic was very much bruce not wanting tim to see the darker side of him that struggled and trying to handle it alone and tim getting frustrated with him about being pushed away

(read knightfall)

#the thing is that tim becoming robin wasn't to become bruce's emotional therapist #tim himself was supposed to be a reminder for bruce to not get caught up in himself #and to pull back and think #and that's an important distinction to me #like it's not like tim came and managed him emotionally. like in many respects bruce was trying to do the right thing and avoid that #tim did try to busybody bruce ofc #but bruce's m.o. when things get hard is to close himself off and push everyone away #idk. #anyways i'm still here-ish it's just that a very important video game to me came out on the 29th #so i'm temporarily less here-ish. im busy.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

job applications: this is entry level! anyone can apply!

job applications: ...as long as you've done at least six months of highly specific work, or have this exact degree, or if you kissed a chicken during the last moon of 2012-

#im back in the trenches bois its Not Looking Great #gonna apply to this stupid thing anyway but #it looks like stockin grocery store shelves is the way im gonna go #unless i get Very lucky or manage to bullshit my way into this job #college isn't necessary but Man a lot of places want you to attend. no <3 #but noooo instead i have to like. work. till i die. and never make enough money to live comfortably. sigh #sometimes i think to myself 'i should make video essays on youtube and see if that goes anywhere' #and sometimes i think 'i should scribble up things that people would buy and make a shop' #and sometimes i think 'what if i killed someone with a stick. would that be fucked up or what' #absolutely unprompted #AGHHHHHHHH THE BOXES WE AS HUMANITY HAVE LOCKED OURSELVES INTO IM GONNA LOSE IT #i was born to be a handsome decoration / weird little artist for eccentric wealthy people #i was meant to drape myself across a beautiful philanthropist woman's lap and doodle lil animals for her #while she rambles and feeds me grapes #yk. if i did make a shop i could have an extra section for small crochet things #coasters. small hand warmers. tiny shapes. simple cat toys. that sorta thing. quick and easy stuff #i could make them w/ specific colors so that they're subtle fandom themed #i literally have a coaster in damian's robin colors... a black/red SB square... #hm. thinking #oh shit i gotta work on that new commission sheet #OH NO. I FORGOR SOMETHING I SHOULD NOT HAVE FORGOR. I HAVE MADE A LITTLE FUCKY WUCKY #excuse me everyone i have something to finish

[undertheredhood]

from the tiny snippets i've been seeing of gotham war on tumblr, i don't think there's a way for jason and bruce's relationship to ever be okay again, especially not after what bruce did to jason

#batman #jason todd #bruce wayne #red hood #bruce thinks that drugging jason to control him would be good in the long run but it wouldn't #is dc setting jason to die again? idk but i wouldn't be surprised #someone needs to give jason a hug #if i were jason i would leave and never come back #this is going to have major consequences i just know it #the whumptober girlies are going to eat it up tho #just when i thought it couldn't get any more worse dc somehow manages to surprise me #the only way for jason to have a somewhat civil relationship with bruce ever again is if this whole mess was ret-conned #imo after this jason should just leave the batfamily because wtaf? #imo anything that jason does in gotham war after this is justified #jason was never the angry robin #what bruce did to jason crossed all the lines #he literally violated all of jason’s boundaries in the worst way and i know that dc is just going to write it off with a shitty apology #i understand that he’s not fully in control of himself but it’s still fucked up

[ccbatman]

I once said that I thought Steph would make a great Black Canary, and I still think that's one of the realest takes I've ever had.

Like, this moment seared itself into my head and never faded:

{ Robin 80-Page Giant }

#stephanie brown #dinah lance #spoiler #black canary #me learning about how dinah lost her cry which was as much BULLSHIT as steph's death btw okay hold on i need to get this out of my system #because they had to nerf her SO HARD for that to make sense and it STILL DIDNT BECAUSE ?????? SHE'S THE BLACK CANARY???? THAT GUY WAS A #NOBODY WITH A KNIFE ARE YOU JOKING??? and then the story that follows isnt even really ABOUT dinah it's about ollie and im so. ohhhh my god #JUST like how steph's death was largely brished aside to deal with bruce and jason's angst like. yeah i wanted there to be angst but it #wouldve been nice if it had been about HER for more than five seconds. honestly im so mixed about her death and return tbh. the way they #went about her passing was so weirdly inconsistent through the issues that bruce managing to get her to leslie in time does make sense but #then they do that weird thing with leslie and it's like ???? wha???? i go back and forth on how i feel about steph's return. on one hand i #love how she comes back more focused and stronger largely by her own means but on the other i did want #... something. i wanted her to be angry a bit longer and to deal with the complicated emotions between her 'failing' and bruce's 'failing' #and what that meant for her now. idk i love her batgirl run but it wouldve been nice if she had a bit more space to grieve herself. #anyway later in this issue dinah agrees to mentor steph for a bit and her rules are pretty much the same as bruce's when he made her robin #and if dinah had mentored steph instead of bruce she never would've died ok send tweet #wjshshsk #i love the panels of them looking at each other. dinah looking into steph's eyes and recognising the look in them. #i love how she smiles at stephanie both times. it's so gentle and kind. ily black canary #love posting on blogs where no one follows me. i can just say shit

[feralsteddie]

mid-apocalypse Steve with a shaved head is living rent free in my mind rn

#steve harrington #he struggles for a long time before he can actually manage to do it #but the occasional supply shipment the government actually lets through only has so much #and in the long run it was just… easier. felt better than letting it get all lank and dirty #robin did it too. In solidarity at first but then because she likes the buzzed feeling #and yeah when Steve occasionally looks into a grimey mirror it’s hard to see who he was before everything. #underneath the scars that trace all the way back to ‘83 and lack of puffed up mullet #but there wasn’t a lot of time for a hair routine in between swinging a bat at monsters anyways #the only attention he can spare for hair those days is when it’s his turn to wash and braids Max’s- still out after all that time #and when one of the other little kids with too long hair ask #because not all the lifers got out before it was sealed. too many kids stayed behind in the wasteland #but Steve was always good at three things anyways. Hair. Babysitting. and sticking himself into danger so no one else had to. #so it’s kind of fine that his hair was gone. better in some ways. less time to have to avoid looking at himself in the mirror #more time to take care of the others #Robin always affectionately runs her hand over his head anyways. pressed a quick kiss to every scar on his scalp #(if he survives he grows his hair nearly to his shoulders. treats caring for it like a ritual.) #(but that’s only if he lives) #pyreposting #something something his go to self-soothe being touching his hair and no longer being able to

[catharusustulatus]

What if, amongst the chaos of the town being half evacuated and the “earthquake,” Steve and Robin are fired from Family Video and need a new job. (Heck maybe Family Video is sucked into a sinkhole!) It feels silly, looking for work when all hell has broken loose, and who is even hiring? Then Argyle is like “hey I might know a place,” and low and behold there’s a new Surfer Boy Pizza right outside of town. They get jobs and it becomes the gang’s base of operations for most of the final fight prep against Vecna/the gov agents after El. Imagine Steve and Robin tossing pizza in floral prints!!! Imagine El using the pizza dough freezer again! Imagine Dustin eating pizza every day and bothering Steve and Robin! Steve and Argyle bond and talk about Jonathan! A government shootout against them and they barely escape, rounding out act 1! I wanna see Robin making fun of Steve because none of the company uniform baseball hats fit his “big stupid head.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #st headcanons #stranger things headcanon #robin buckley #argyle #stranger things ideas #stranger things headcanons #I can’t stop thinking about it!!!! #argyle is like surprise my dad owns the whole chain and that’s why I can totally escape to Hawkins in the middle of spring #Steve complains about the uniform but looks great in floral and Hawaiian shirts and a white t underneath #Robin would make fun of him non stop but they need the money #maybe they also need the money to pay back the family they stop the Winnebago from #they did steal their house and car after all #and imagine a badass gov shootout set in a pizza parlor and Steve and Robin and Argyle and Dustin are all there and they have to escape #and Steve gets shot and Robin freaks out and Argyle surprises everyone by defending them #they escape and Dustin has managed to still have pizza with them #maybe Erica is there so it’s like scoops troop 2: pizza time #blah blah blah really it’s all a vehicle to see Joe Keery in another uniform making pizza and being covered in blood #the end

[redsray]

I love the hc that Tim never really stopped taking pictures of heroes and vigilantes even after he became Robin. Not even out of hero worship or anything-- he just found it fun. In fact, being Robin just made this hobby easier to do. He has them separated in folders and definitely has blackmail photos included.

The first time Tim met the Justice League one of his first reactions was to sneakily take at least one picture of each of them. Clark vaguely heard a camera shutter but he could never find any cameras or camera owners.

Sometimes Bruce comes to him and asks for specific pictures of members of the JL doing things they shouldn't be doing i.e Barry ditching a meeting cause he was eating Chipotle in the Watchtower kitchen. No one knows how Bruce gets the pictures except for the other Batfam members.

Tim is the god of blackmail right behind Babs. You need older blackmail or videos? Go to Babs. But Good quality blackmail photos? Tim is your guy.

He has at least 4 folders full of pictures of Dick specifically. One for his time as Robin, one for Nightwing, one for Discowing and one for just Dick.

He also manages to have pictures he definitely should not have because how did you get into the cave before you were Robin, Tim, but he refuses to elaborate on those. i.e Robin Jason out of costume, cozily reading at the batcomputer ("seriously, Tim, that's creepy"), Dick when he first adopted Haley ("were you there when I rescued her?!"), Damian training with the League of Assassins ("how the hell did you get that"), Duke back during the We Are Robin movement ("I do not remember you pulling out any cameras what the hell")

#tim drake #batfam #batman #red robin #hes a little stalker #let him be one #creepy kid #i love him #jason todd #dick grayson #duke thomas #if you hear a camera shutter in the corner of your room ignore it its just tim #-bruce #jl: what is that in the corner #bruce: red robin just ignore him he likes his pictures

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for getting my best friend killed?

I swear to God, it was an accident.

My (27) BF (34) has a reputation for getting himself out of any jam you can imagine; and at first it was just a fun little thing the friend group noticed: there goes Oily J wiggling his way out of trouble again. but as the meme evolved in the group, it got to the point where we'd loykey started getting him into situations just to see how he'd get out of 'em, and he akept getting out of em. He was having fun with it too same as us. "Oh you guys," he'd say, "getting me into situations again," before laughing it off and getting out of it, so it was enrichment for our shared enclosures, and as time went on, the situations got more intense.

The trouble is, it turns out that putting a man in too many situations eventually gets the police interested. And not local hobsknockers cops either; they was like, proper three-letter FEDs. They put out a bounty on any information pertaining to his capture and everything. It was good money too so I thought, hey why don't I put J in another situation he can wiggle out of like always (and he'd wiggled outta worse before, so I thought this one'd be relatively mild), and at the next boardgame night (cause it was too late to do anything special for this one) we can buy some extra strong booze and get absolutely blitzed while having a giggle about the situation.

Boardgame night, and we were playing some social deduction nonsense or another and he says: "One of you is gonna betray me tonight." and I can't help but think, looking back on it, that he knew. It's stupid, I know he was talking about the game, but the way he said it, it was like he knew. We all felt it, and we had a big round robin round the table taking turns promising that we'd never betray him. And I said it so easily cause I thought it was true. Sure, I was gonna talk to the feds about a bounty; but, I fully expected my big beautiful oily boy to wiggle his way out of the trouble I was 'bout to cause, and that's not a betrayal. I wasn't lying. I didn't think I was lying.

My big beautiful oily boy didn't manage to wiggle his way out of it. They killed him and I got my blood money. He's gone.

He's gone and I'm devastated, crying, mourning. I loved him so much. We all did. And I can't stop thinking that it's my fault: that I'm the reason he's gone. and it is. and the guilt is eating me up inside. and I just need to talk to someone about it. So, I tell the rest of the group what happened in the group chat, hoping they'd understand that I didn't want this. I didn't want the government's blood money. It was supposed the be a prank. some joint enclosure enrichment. He was supposed to wiggle out of it like he always does... did, i mean.

They call me, among worse things, the asshole and kick me from the group chat. And, I know it's my fault he's dead: I know that. If I didn't do what I did, he wouldn't be dead right now. But, I didn't mean it for it to end up this way. He was supposed to be okay, damn it. I loved him. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #fandom aita #unreality #i never know how to tag the bible ones #also i don't think this is explicitly jesus christ superstar but for some reason it put me in mind of it #so that's where the extra option is from idk #specifically in my head is one particular production of it that a friend showed me when we were like. 17 #anyway i'm in love with how this one plays with modern language #good enough to post on purpose

[radiance1]

Damian has beef with a homeless kid. Both as a Wayne, and as Robin.

As a Wayne, Damian being alone outside was a rare thing. Most of the time a sibling would be accompanying him or wouldn't be too far off, but he was well and truly alone for the first in a while.

Then he stepped into an alleyway and nearly got hit in the face. It wasn't unexpected, considering this is Gotham, but it's unusual for a thief to be bare-handed.

They then devolved into a fistfight and, while the other boy's form has at least some foundation it was pitiful in comparison to the Demon's Heir and the son of Batman. But the boy had quite a lot of power that he threw around with his punches and kicks, power that Damian used against him while simultaneously dodging his attacks.

There was an invisible line that the boy refused to let him cross that led deeper into the alleyway, and he somehow managed to do exactly that. Looping Damian right back to their starting positions at the start of this fight, Damian at the mouth and the unknown at the middle point.

Damian then caught sight of familiar green scales, a groan, and a very familiar voice calling out "Kid...?" The boy in front of him seemed, genuinely, panicked at the voice's interruption, but not with fear.

But with worry.

So then Damian left, pushing away each and every notion that he should detain Killer Croc right then and there with the logic that he didn't even have his uniform and the proper equipment to effectively deal with someone of Killer Croc's powerset.

Somehow, whenever he was alone from his siblings, he's always met the boy, whom he learned was called Danny via overhearing Killer Croc speaking to him. Their meetings always started in a fight, and ended with no victor as Damian sneaked away as soon as Killer Croc made his presence known.

No wonder he's been so quiet, it seemed he either had a child or found one.

===

As Robin, Damian would admit that he was caught off guard by the same boy who acted as Killer Crocs 'bodyguard' (either for the mutant himself, or everyone else. He doesn't care enough to find out) and would say it was a good move.

But that was as much praise as he was willing to give.

Robin recognized Danny at first glance, if not in looks than surely the fighting style he was familiarized with over the past few months. A mixture between refined and wild.

As always, he threw far more power than his body should allow for someone of his build and age, so perhaps he was a mutant as well. It didn't matter, what did, however, was how each of the punches thrown could punch straight through a wall.

Robin never let himself get hit fully to test if it could as easily pierce the human body as well.

As usual, Robin was either redirecting, outright dodging or blocking (when he wasn't able to dodge just right enough for the attack to not hit him) the attacks that came his way. And, as always, wherever it seemed Killer Croc went, Danny went as well.

Wherever Killer Croc found this boy, Robin would give him credit for being able to choose his protegees correctly.

Robin let no one else deal with Danny whenever he's on scene along with Killer Croc. His father wouldn't even fight him unless it was necessary, most of the time busy with Killer Croc himself, Nightwing was occupied in his own territory, as well as Red Hood.

Robin would not so humbly refuse to even entertain the idea of Red Robin as a candidate.

When Killer Croc escaped, Robin let his opponent chase after his guardian to nurse the wounds that came, more often than not, from counters to his own attacks.

He always had an excuse ready as for the why.

===

Damian Wayne saw something surprising, when he met Danny again.

Robin's own attack being thrown at him.

Of course, it was sloppy and almost painful to look at. But it still surprised Damian, nonetheless.

He spent some time effectively guiding Danny to perform the attack to an at least practical level. Not that Danny asked, or he offered, but it was easy to guide the flow of the fight to what he wanted.

===

Robin was surprised. Not to any great level, but it caught him off guard.

Danny had almost perfectly countered his attack.

It was still sloppy in some places, needed a bit more refining and a great less of the power that was unconsciously behind it. Other than that, it was performed that Damian could say he was almost impressed.

Danny landed a hit on him, and he was quite sure he may have broken a rib, bruised his chest, or both.

So of course, he ruthlessly beat the boy into the ground while pointing out each and every flaw in his technique. Then let him run off after his... master? Father?

He does not know the significance of the role Killer Croc plays to the boy, but he let him run away after him back to the sewer systems.

Of course, an excuse already on lips for his father to hear, and even better, physical evidence to back up his claim.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover

[steddie-as-they-come]

Eddie's hanging out in Family Video during Steve and Robin's shift, just being a general nuisance, when it begins.

The other two are talking in low voices in the back corner, discussing something Eddie can't hear. Normally he'd get up and go over there, insert himself into the conversation, command their attention, but he's too busy judgmentally rifling through Family Video's paltry horror movie supply to care that much.

He sneaks a glance over, and then he sees it.

Steve presses a kiss to Robin's forehead.

Eddie has to drop the tape he's holding before he does something stupid like break it out of jealousy.

And he knows, okay, he's heard it no less than eight million times, they're platonic with a capital P. That doesn't stop the little green monster in his chest from rearing its head.

It doesn't stop there, either. Eddie starts to see Steve kiss the rest of the Party. Simple little forehead kisses and temple kisses and kisses on the crowns of their heads, like he's their parent, which, well, he is. He does it when Dustin needs comfort. He slings an arm around Lucas and pulls him close for a kiss on the temple when Lucas makes a particularly good shot for basketball. He does it to Max, on one of her bad days. He even does it to Mike absentmindedly, who makes a feral screech like an angry cat before everyone starts to laugh at him. And of course, he and Robin are always all over each other.

But he won't kiss Eddie.

It's stupid that he expects it. They don't know each other. Steve's been with this group, been saving them from monsters and scientists and torturers for forever.

Eddie still wants in on it. If only to indulge his pathetic little crush on the former King of Hawkins High.

One night, Steve hosts a movie night, and Dustin invites Eddie along. He goes, because of course he does, and takes a seat on the end of the couch as Steve puts in the tape.

Eddie immediately forgets what the movie is, because Steve sits down next to him. His entire brain is a fuzzy kind of static that only intensifies when Steve scoots closer.

"Sorry," is the first word Eddie registers out of Steve's mouth, and he hastily tries to collect his thoughts. Steve moves closer, which doesn't help.

He peers around Steve and sees the kids all trying to squish onto the couch. "Scoot over, Eddie!" Mike shouts, and Eddie moves as close as he can to the arm of the couch. Steve follows, arm around him and thighs pressed close together.

Okay, then. Eddie can die happily tonight, apparently.

Something jumps at the screen, and Steve flinches.

Eddie learns a new thing about Steve that night. Apparently, when Steve gets frightened, he pulls everyone within reach towards him, like he's trying to shield them with his body. Eddie finds himself hugged to Steve's chest and has to employ breathing exercises to get rid of his new little...problem.

He somehow makes it through the movie without spontaneously combusting, a feat nothing short of a miracle. The kids run to the kitchen and Eddie can hear Dustin pick up the phone and say, "Hello, Paulie's Pizza?"

Steve sighs and gets up. "I did not say they could order pizza," he grumbles. He extends his hand to Eddie, and after a second of bewildered staring, Eddie manages to grab it and pull himself to standing.

Robin's sitting on the couch still (she had been on the other side of Steve), and she watches this interaction with an unreadable expression on her face.

Well, unreadable to Eddie, anyway. Steve and Robin proceed to have an entire conversation with just facial expressions, and Eddie is left in the dark about it.

Steve finally rolls his eyes and stalks into the kitchen. He distracts Dustin with a kiss on the top of his head, then steals the phone. "Hi, yeah," he says, and Eddie recognizes that voice as his King-Steve-takes-what-he-wants voice. "No, that's right. Two medium pepperoni pizzas and a side of garlic knots, yep."

He listens, then says, "I'll be over to pick it up," then places the phone back on the receiver with a click.

"I'm going to get the food." he announces to the room at large. "Eddie, you coming?"

"Sure?" Eddie slings his leather jacket from the back of one of the kitchen table chairs and slides his sneakers on.

The drive is quiet. Multiple times, it looks like Steve wants to say something, but he never does. When the two of them walk in to get the pizza, Steve grabs both boxes. "Can you get the door, Eds?"

Eddie wants to tease him about the new nickname, but he chooses not to, opting instead to nod and say, "Sure thing, Stevie." He pulls open the glass door and says, with a mock bow and a grand gesture, "Your majesty."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Thanks." He (finally!!) goes to kiss Eddie.

However, Eddie is not as short as the kids (and Robin) who Steve normally does this to. Eddie's pretty sure the kiss is supposed to land on his forehead.

It lands on his mouth.

Pretty shoddy kiss, as it were. Mostly, Steve kisses the corner of Eddie's mouth.

Both of their faces burn red. If not for Steve's sports-playing, monster-killing reflexes, the pizzas would be on the ground right now.

"Sorry!" Steve says, hurrying out to his car and tossing the food in the backseat. "Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."

Eddie slides into the passenger seat. "Finally!" he says.

"What?"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Steve, I've been the only one who you haven't been bestowing kisses upon for weeks now. Sorry if I'm excited to be included in the group."

Steve starts the car. "But...those are all platonic kisses."

Eddie scoffs. "What, and kissing me wouldn't be?"

Steve is silent.

"REALLY?" Eddie yells. "Wait, wait-" He leans over the center console. "Steve Harrington, if you wanted a kiss, a romantic kiss, you could have told me before cuddling with me all night!"

Steve sighs. "Fine. Eddie Munson, I'm going to kiss you romantically."

And he leans in.

Eddie's obsessed with the curve and dip of Steve's mouth against his. He greedily cups his hand against Steve's face, his other hand propped up against the center console. Steve tastes like the soda he was drinking earlier, mixed with something richer and deeper that's wholly, entirely Steve.

They break apart at a small crackle from Steve's inner pocket.

"Henderson," Steve says exasperatedly. "That kid is so damn impatient."

"Steve!" Dustin's voice comes from the walkie Steve pulls out. "Have you gotten the pizza yet?"

"Yes, you little shit, we're coming back now." Steve sighs. "Oh! Henderson, find Robin. Tell her it happened."

Eddie shoots Steve a confused look, but Steve just holds up a placating hand, a slight smile on his face.

"OH MY GOD STEVE!" comes Robin's voice on the walkie. "HELL YEAH!"

Steve cackles and leans back in to kiss Eddie, who happily accepts.

#truth be told i could have put this in the living hawkins au #but i like it better as its own thing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic