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#fic; day 1
north-noire · 3 months
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perhaps catching up a bit wouldn't hurt?
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occudo · 23 days
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@jonmartinweek day 1 First Kiss // Season 1 heavily inspired by chewsdaychillin 's fic however do we manage wich I highly recommend! So good! (The rest of the week not going to get this long posts, I just got inspired by the fic)
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faiell · 21 days
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inspired by a scene from 9 1/2 days by @magpiefngrl
‘Harry?’ Urgent, clipped vowels, insistent at his ear. A cool hand shook Harry's shoulder, hot breath played on his cheek, and the smell of lavender tickled his nose. Without thinking, Harry raised his head and pressed his face at the source of the lavender smell, inhaling deeply. Dawn’s fabric softener brought him slowly back to himself. He opened his eyes to see he had his nose buried in Draco’s shoulder.
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teethkid67 · 2 months
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PAYDAY
aka a valentine for the lovely @itsnotmystic / @corvids-calling - fanart for stars fic of the same name, which you can read here !!! i really enjoyed this concept and wanted to do some art for it :3 hope you like it because i REALLY loved your work & i hope this shows that !!! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY !!!!
this is also a loose love-letter to the wonderful @arginnit 's crazy background-drawing-ability and style/skill at portraying environments . wadds your stuff is insane and i love it
happy @mcyt-valentines exchange !!!!
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after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.
steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.
eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.
so steve is all over eddie, it seems.
at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.
so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.
robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?
eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.
it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?
- robin and steve
“Steve.”
“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“
“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…
Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.
“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”
To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”
“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.
“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”
“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“
“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”
To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.
“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.
“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”
“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“
“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.
“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”
She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.
He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.
After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.
“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”
He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.
“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“
“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.
“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“
“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”
Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.
“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”
“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”
“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”
- later. steve’s house. to be continued?
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evelili · 8 months
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no context manga redraw of a scene from this really cool fanfic :)
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queenie-ofthe-void · 2 months
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“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.
Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 
Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.
Long story short, he’s not a fan.
But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 
“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”
And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.
Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 
“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.
The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 
Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.
“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–
All of my love, all of my love
all of my love to you, oh
“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”
Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 
“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.
The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again
One voice is clear above the din
“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.
"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.
“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.
All of my love, all of my love, yes
All of my love to you
Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”
He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  
“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 
“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 
All of my love, all of my love, to you now
“A love song just for you, from both of us.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.
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metalhoops · 1 year
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The Five Times Eddie Wondered Who His Soulmate Was  and the One Time He Didn’t Have To
1. 
The worst thing about knowing your soulmate was in trouble was understanding there was nothing you could do about it. 
As a whole, Eddie thought the concept of soulmates was bullshit. He thought all that fate and destiny crap was a scam to sell the idea of monogamy or co-dependence. If people were too busy fretting over when they’d meet ‘their person’, they’d forget that actual shit was going on in the world. Who had the time to care about systemic oppression when they were busy trying to work out if the cute girl across the corridor was their one true love? 
That being said, sometimes Eddie got curious about who they were. Not many people found their soulmates. It wasn’t as obvious as you’d think. When they were in pain, you would feel it. Two people could live across the world from one another, feeling each scraped knee and broken wrist but never meet. Hell, you could live across the street from someone and unless you were there to watch them get hurt and feel the same old pang of shared pain, you’d never know. 
It wasn’t like Eddie had never felt his soulmate before that day. They’d twisted an ankle when Eddie was twelve and sprained a wrist when he was fourteen, but he’d felt no pain from them so strong as when he was sitting in detention during his junior year. 
He was counting down the minutes left until he could get out of the high school, hell hole when a sharp and sudden pain flooded his jaw. He gritted his teeth and cradled it with his palm, feeling as though the wind was knocked out of his body. Eddie knew what being punched in the face felt like, and that was it. Just when the ache started to fade, another thud of pain to his cheek made his vision swim. From there, Eddie held his breath, waiting for the pain to end. He rested his head on his desk and felt his heart in his throat as the blows kept coming. 
He missed Mrs Click telling him to go home, too busy gripping the desk for dear life, his fingernails digging into the poorly carved desk graffiti, slicing a line through ‘RB 4 TT.’ He was elated when the pain finally stopped. 
Eddie kept his head down the whole walk home, trying to tell himself soulmates were bullshit, and that he didn’t care about his, but his thoughts kept returning to visions of them. He hoped they were okay. 
Eddie never wanted to know who his soulmate was until that moment. They’d had a hell of a day and Eddie wanted to be there with them, tell them he knew what it was like. He wanted to hold their head in his lap and tell them everything was going to be okay, that if it were up to him, no one would hurt them like that again, but he couldn’t. For all he knew, they could be a hundred miles away. 
2.
The next time it happened, Eddie was at home alone in the trailer. Uncle Wayne was working a night shift, and he was watching a horror movie marathon on the T.V. It was shaping up to be a good night, with him curled up on the couch watching a schlocky creature feature when he felt all the air knocked out of his lungs. 
For a moment, he was worried something horrible was happening to him. When Jeff had appendicitis, he’d reported the same kind of pain. Eddie rolled up the hem of his shirt, watching a black-blue bruise bloom and fade in the span of a second. Sometimes, if the pain was great enough, you’d get what they called an ‘echo’ of the injury. It only lasted a moment, invisible ink fading on pale paper. 
The pain had been so strong that Eddie hadn’t been able to tell if it was theirs or his. From there, it got worse. He felt a sharp pang crash over his head, then another series of blows to the face. It was always the goddamn face.
When it was over, Eddie was left feeling lightheaded. The sensation faded quickly, but he knew his other half would be stuck with the ache for the rest of the night, if not longer. 
There was a lot of conjecture when it came to soulmates. It was hard to conduct scientific studies on something based entirely on sensation, and any research that had been done was less than ethical. All the same, for the rest of the night, Eddie curled his arms around himself, holding his body in the hopes his person could feel it, that he could give them some comfort. 
“I hope you’re okay,” he whispered, burrowing his face into the crook of his elbow. 
Back at school, Eddie floated through the halls feeling less than himself as thoughts of his person swirled. The school was abuzz with rumours of a fight between Billy Hargrove and the former king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington. Eddie couldn’t care less about some pissing contest for the highest rung on the social ladder, as he still felt the echoed ache of his soulmate’s pain throughout the day. 
He ditched gym, opting to hide beneath the bleachers and smoke. To his surprise, he wasn’t the only one with the idea. When he arrived, he found the overthrown king sitting cross-legged, cradling his still-bruised jaw. Eddie wasn’t a fan of the jocks, but they were the biggest contributor to his wallet, so he tried to play civil with them. Plus, Eddie wasn’t one to kick someone when they were down, and boy was Steve down. He sat beside the man, examined his face, and thought for a fleeting second. Maybe he was the one, but that was crazy talk. The Freak and the King. In what world? 
“You look like you’ve had better days,” Eddie noted. 
“I’ve had worse,” Steve replied. Eddie had a pit in his stomach. 
The two lapsed into silence, hiding out until the bell sounded for the end of gym. Eddie gave the boy a half-hearted salute as he stood.
“Hey, Steve?” Eddie spoke before he left.
“You okay?”
Steve gave Eddie the ghost of a smile, all charm drowned out by Steve’s two black eyes. 
“I will be.” 
3.
Eddie had been worried about his soulmate before, but he’d never thought he’d lose them until the summer vacation after his failed attempt at senior year. He and the rest of Corroded Coffin had just finished their set at The Hideout. Eddie and the boys were carrying their instruments back to the van when the feeling hit. 
He fell to the asphalt. The whole scene sounded all the more dramatic as the hi-hat he’d been holding fell with him. He really wished his soulmate would learn to keep their head down and stay out of trouble because this was getting ridiculous. He got ready to hunker down and wait it out, having gotten morbidly used to their annual beatings. Only this time the pain didn’t stop. 
He was hit with wave after wave of agony. This time, it wasn’t just the face. He felt blows to his jaw, his stomach, and his side. He also felt a sharp spike of pain in his hand, as though someone was trying to peel his nails from his skin.
He could hear his friends around him, desperately trying to get something coherent out of Eddie, trying to work out if it was soulmate bullshit or if the guy was having an aneurysm. By the way he was acting, either seemed possible. When the pain subsided, Eddie felt foggy, like he was going through the worst goddamn high of his life. The neon signs of The Hideout and the street lamps danced before his eyes. Hundreds of little halos clouded his vision. He couldn’t think straight. 
He managed to prop himself up against the wheel of the van and pulled his knees to his chest. He knotted his hands in his long hair and tugged, trying to remind himself what his own pain felt like, though stopped when he realised he’d also be hurting them. That was the last thing they needed. 
“You okay?” He heard Gareth ask when the world came swimming back into focus. Eddie shook his head. Far from it.  
“Are they okay? Are they... alive?” Eddie hadn’t let himself entertain that idea until it was brought up. 
He felt the last flush of colour drain from his face. He could still feel them, but there was something wrong with the connection. Maybe he was dying. Eddie couldn’t help but think of his soulmate as ‘he’. He just knew. 
Eddie kept trying to tell himself he didn’t care about them, but the fact that he could die without Eddie ever having met him made his heart ache. People thought the reason you felt your person’s pain was to protect them, to know when something was wrong. Eddie had done a bang-up job at that. 
“For now, but it’s weird. I don’t... I don’t know how much longer-,” Eddie didn’t let himself finish. 
The rest of the band suddenly took on a sombre mood. Jeff and Grant finished packing up the van while Gareth offered to drive. The boys stayed at Eddie’s trailer for the rest of the night, holding their breaths and waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
Eventually, Eddie dropped off to sleep and when he awoke hours later, he was relieved to realise he hurt all over. He was still alive, still waiting for Eddie to find him and god did Eddie want to. 
His uncle came home at the crack of dawn and let out an elongated sigh of relief at seeing Eddie and his band of merry men curled up together on the living room carpet. Wayne greeted Eddie with a tight hug that still hurt like hell.
“I was worried something happened to you,” His uncle stated in his gravelled tone.
“Why would something have happened to me?” Eddie asked, perplexed. 
“The mall burnt down last night. I was worried you were close by.” 
Eddie shook his head and let his uncle hold him as his mind ticked away. He wondered if it was possible his soulmate was in Hawkins. Eddie wasn’t sure he believed in coincidence.   
4.
Eddie started seeing spots during his lunchtime speech. By the end of his rant, the room had started to tilt. He felt unsure on his feet as he clambered from the top of the jock table to scamper back to the hellfire group. He must look worse for wear because he noticed one of his new recruits watching him.
“Eddie, you good?” Dustin questioned, sounding further away than he should. The lights in the cafeteria were too bright and his head was killing him. 
He felt close to throwing up and wondered where the pain had come from before realising the familiar distance from the sensation. It wasn’t his pain. Eddie didn’t want Henderson to butt into his love life any more than he already did, so he gave the kid a tight-lipped smile that more closely resembled a grimace. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this sensation from his soulmate, but they were growing more frequent.  
Again, sweetheart? Eddie thought, knowing it was the second migraine that week. 
“Migraine,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth. He could feel his band members' eyes on him. They knew exactly who the ache belonged to. 
To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin passed him a cool glass of water and barked orders at Mike, getting the kid to remove the ugly Hawaiian over shirt, before throwing it over Eddie’s head, blocking out the light. It wasn’t Eddie’s pain, so it didn’t help but he could appreciate the sentiment. 
“Did they teach you first aid at science camp, Henderson?” Eddie guessed offhandedly. 
“Nah. Steve gets migraines all the time. Helps to know how to deal with them.”
Eddie would never understand how a kid like Dustin came to know Steve Harrington, let alone worship the ground the guy walked on. Usually, Dustin had such good taste.  
“Eddie’s soulmate gets them too,” Gareth spoke unhelpfully. 
Even without looking, Eddie knew he was shooting him a shit-eating grin, knowing the rest of the afternoon Henderson would ask him about his soulmate. Just because the kid found Suzie, he thought the whole world deserved to find their one true love. Instead, Dustin came out with the most bullshit statement Eddie had ever heard. 
“Maybe Steve’s your soulmate.” 
Yeah, right. On what planet would that happen? 
5.
With everything that had happened to Eddie in the past few days, he hadn’t had time to think about his soulmate. He’d watched Chrissy die before his eyes, learnt the existence of another dimension and was walking through said dimension after witnessing Steve Harrington take a bite out of a demon bat’s tail. It’d been a weird ass day.  
He wished he’d been like Robin and Nancy, able to jump in and rescue Steve on a whim, but as Steve disappeared beneath the black water of Lover’s Lake, he’d felt his throat close and his lungs ache for air. It wasn’t a good time for a panic attack. Nevertheless, he’d managed to get his ass in gear and follow the rest of the group down into Watergate. 
He’d dropped back to walk with Steve and found himself complimenting the man. Steve was nothing like he imagined. He was not only kind, but as Dustin had put it, a total badass. 
Once the adrenaline faded, Eddie found himself lifting the hem of his shirt, examining his side. He felt a dull throb of pain. It’d be his luck to bleed out without noticing, but he found there was nothing there. 
“You good?” Steve asked.
Eddie couldn’t help but let his gaze settle on Steve’s bleeding side. He held his breath. He thought about pushing his hand against Steve’s wound, hurting him more just to check, but Eddie couldn’t hurt Steve. Not now. Especially if he was who Eddie thought he might be. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. You okay?” Eddie asked, gesturing to Steve’s side. The boy nodded.
“I’m fine, just a scratch. Can hardly feel a thing.” 
If Steve was his soulmate, he was full of shit. If Steve was his soulmate when everything blew over, they had a few things to talk about.
+1
Something was very wrong. Vecna was going down in a blaze of flame when Steve’s body started to ache. He felt the familiar sting of interdimensional bat fangs digging into dermis flesh. Robin and Nancy were cheering, wrapping their arms around Steve, whooping, hollering and panting while Steve was busy feeling like he was being torn apart. 
He was pulling away from the girls and turning on his heels before he had the chance to explain, running from the Creel House to the trailer park as fast as his feet could carry him. There was only one person this pain could belong to. 
Steve had spent his whole life searching for his soulmate, desperate to know who they were, and he’d been under his nose the whole time. The fact that Steve’s soulmate was a boy hadn’t surprised him as much as it should. That’d been a crisis bubbling away in the background of his brain since he’d gone to his first swim meet. He’d seen a boy in tight swim trunks, with tan skin and felt the familiar heart-pounding, crush he’d experienced on pretty girls he’d passed in the school hallways. 
By the time he got to Eddie, he’d hardly been able to fight through the pain surging through their connection. Dustin was wailing, holding Eddie in the wake of a bat graveyard. He looked up in alarm at Steve’s figure, noticing his pale skin and sweat-slicked brow. 
“Harrington?” Eddie’s weak voice came from Dustin’s lap. 
Steve was busy removing his clothes, trying to stop the bleeding. Dustin didn’t need to show him where the man was hurt, he could feel it. 
“I really must have got some brownie points in the end,” Eddie murmured. 
Both boys hissed as Steve shoved his shirt into a wound at Eddie’s side. That was when Dustin appeared to catch on, his eyes swelling wide as they darted between the two boys. 
“What’re you talking about, Munson?” Steve asked, trying to keep the guy talking. 
“Must’ve got into heaven after all,” He hummed, his deep brown eyes gazing beyond Steve at the distant red sky. 
“Hey. No. None of that. You aren’t in heaven because you’re not dying,” Steve hissed, using what little strength he had left to lift Eddie’s body. 
“Gotta be in heaven, if you’re here,” Eddie spoke, giving Steve a lopsided grin. Steve felt Eddie’s pain beginning to fade and panicked, not ready to let things end before they’d even had the chance to begin. 
He hoisted Eddie up through the portal and waited to do the same with Dustin. It wasn’t long before the distant sound of sirens once more surrounded the Munson trailer and Steve found himself passing out from the pain as red-blue lights swallowed the world whole. 
Eddie woke in pain, his whole body humming with a familiar dull ache that was unarguably his. It took time for him to make sense of the scene. He was in the hospital. Steve was slumped over at the far edge of the room, sleeping in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his head thrown back and his mouth agape. Eddie’s eyes trailed to his bedside, where he met Dustin’s. 
“Holy shit, you’re awake,” the boy gasped, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. 
Eddie cringed as he felt a rush of pain swarm through his body. He must have gasped, because Steve sprung to life, waking with a start as his eyes trailed from Dustin to Eddie. Steve’s eyes were a storm of quiet conflict, punctuated by deep purple bruises. 
“Eddie,” Steve breathed, standing to hover beside the bed, unsure of what to do next. 
He was surprised Steve was there at all. He wouldn’t say the two were close. Though Steve had probably found some way of twisting Eddie getting hurt into some fault of his, ever the damn hero. 
“Thought I was a goner for a second there,” Eddie admitted, trying to shake some of the strange tension from the room.
“If Steve hadn’t gotten there in time, you would’ve been,” Dustin spoke. Eddie watched as the boy’s hands trembled. He leaned over, fighting through the pain to ruffle the kid’s hair. Steve’s shoulders hunched over, doubling into himself. 
“I’ll get the nurse. Your uncle left for his nightshift, but he should be back in a few,” Dustin muttered as he made a beeline for the exit. It seemed strange the boy was extracting himself from the scene.
Henderson called over his shoulder. “I told you so.” 
And just like that, Eddie knew. 
He looked up at Steve with wide-eyed alarm, only to find his look mirrored.
“How’d you know we were in trouble?” Eddie asked, though thought he knew the answer. 
“After we killed Vecna, I felt... I could feel you. I knew you were hurt,” Steve explained. 
“How’d you know it was me?” Eddie pushed.
“Thought it was too much of a coincidence that it felt like my soulmate was getting eaten alive by giant bats. I’d call it an educated guess.” 
Eddie gritted his teeth and nodded. Surely, as far as soulmates went, he hadn’t been what Steve imagined. 
“I’m sorry,” Steve said, surprising Eddie. 
“For what?”
“Not being the person you wanted me to be, I guess,” Steve spoke so candidly, it made pain and panic swell in his throat. How could Steve think Eddie was disappointed that he was his soulmate?
“I’m not disappointed, Stevie. Why would I be disappointed?” 
“You had to have known,” Steve reasoned. 
Eddie didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but it sounded like Steve had been overthinking every second of it. 
“You give me more credit than I deserve. I didn’t know it was you, sweetheart. Cross my heart,” Eddie admitted, surprised at how quickly the term of endearment he’d used for his soulmate slipped off his tongue when talking to Steve. 
He hadn’t worked out shit. He’d had hunches, as though his heart knew, but the logical part of his brain kept overriding it. In what world were he and Steve perfect for each other?
Eddie threw caution to the wind as he saw the genuine look of affection and excitement painting its way across Steve’s face. He looked hopeful. Eddie cringed, sitting up and trying to lean closer to Steve.
“Come here before I hurt the both of us,” Eddie grumbled.
Steve shuffled closer to Eddie’s bed, crouching down, so the two were at eye level. Eddie wanted to kiss the boy so damn bad, and Steve was sending him all the signs that he should, but there was something he had to do first. He took Steve’s face between his hands, running a thumb over the purple bruises beneath his eyes.
“No more playing hero, okay?” 
Steve nudged his face into the palm of Eddie’s hand and nodded, letting out a weak chuckle. 
“I think I can agree to that.” 
Eddie crushed their lips together and despite the pain, it felt like everything was right in the world. 
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umlewis · 2 months
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alright sir babygirl tone it down
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mrghostrat · 4 months
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Big Name Feelings - 5/?
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chapter 5: first hug, first kiss
None of Crowley's 4K lenses or selfie-cams in sunbeams did any justice to the depth of his amber irises, which positively shone in person, even in the diminishing light of their hotel overheads. The stark cool glow of the iPad screen glinted off the rivulets of brown, brightening and blending the lightest edges into a silky gold. He spent hours every day pouring over palettes and hand mixing the perfect pigments, but that yellow was the most beautiful colour Aziraphale had ever seen in his life.
[ full size art ]
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lewishamiltonstuff · 7 months
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Does it ever drive you crazy?
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kittykatninja321 · 6 months
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One thing that is not nearly discussed enough is the way that 16 year old catatonic Jason imprinted on Talia like a baby duck. Like can you imagine the image of Talia walking around the league base being followed by a mute dazed looking teenager and nobody’s allowed to say shit about it?
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bismutharts · 17 days
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i had great fun with the formatting for this one. the bar at the bottom is actually the exact same colour and texture as the bar near the top in the light mode of ao3. or at least it was until my mediocre printer had its way with it.
the fonts are also the same as what's used on ao3
did y'all know that on firefox you can screenshot specific elements of the html of a webpage? very handy, to have it immediately cropped to what you need (used for the navigation ui, i couldn't easily replicate that)
this is part of my project to make a zine a day in april
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ohraicodoll · 1 year
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I love that in the Podcast they specifically said they wanted to frame the hospital fight not as this action packed scene, but as sad. Because Joel has completely disassociated. He’s checked out because trauma can do that to a person, let’s you separate what’s happening. They said this is him burning his soul for this one girl. He’s doing what needs to be done in the same way Marlene did but while her focus was humanity, his focus is just Ellie. It’s tunnel vision. He kills anyone who is a threat and even if they drop their weapon, they could change their mind and still shoot him and then Ellie dies. He doesn’t kill the doctor until he becomes a threat by wielding the scalpel.  And them saying Marlene actually signed her death warrant the moment she said “let me go” because it meant she planned to try and survive her wound. There would be a tomorrow and in that tomorrow, she would try and come after them. So of course she had to die because her living meant Ellie wouldn’t be safe. 
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sidekick-hero · 3 months
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Carry you
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(steddie | rated t | wc: 4k | cw: drug addiction, hurt Eddie Munson, post break-up, hopeful ending | @steddielovemonth | prompt by @starryeyedjanai "Love is letting someone take care of you" | AO3)
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When Eddie opens his eyes, he has no idea where he is.
That should probably scare him, but the only thing he can think in that moment between blissful nothingness and cold, hard reality is "the bathroom at the party looked different." Because he is in a bathroom, that much he can say. There are white tiles everywhere and a roll of toilet paper in front of him and... is that a plastic handrail?
Lifting his head is a Herculean effort, but somehow he manages to do it, even though it makes his stomach turn.
In front of him is a freestanding shower and a bathtub with stairs to get into. The bathroom is huge and sterile, smelling of disinfectant.
As more and more of his senses come back online, Eddie notices several things at once:
#1 He's wearing what can barely be called a gown, cold air hitting his exposed skin everywhere. His back, his legs, hell, even his junk gets more of a breeze than he likes.
#2 He's nauseous, his stomach rolls uncomfortably, and his head is killing him, a sharp pain that's increasing in intensity by the second.
#3 He knows that something is definitely very, very wrong and he can feel the anxiety rising like bile in his throat.
It's that last realization that triggers his fight or flight response and in seconds he's off the toilet he's sitting on, the sudden movement sending him stumbling, his legs wobbling and his head spinning. Everything hurts and he feels so weak. He catches himself on the railing next to the toilet and figures that's what it's there for. Although he has no idea what kind of person would have such a strange bathroom. The last one he was in, at Tim's or Tom's or Terry's party, something with a T, for sure, the tiles had been black and there had been a lot of bamboo furniture and gold accents. It had smelled nice too, vanilla and cinnamon.
He staggers to a door that hopefully leads out of this fucking nightmare. Maybe Gareth or Freak are behind this, to teach Eddie a lesson for ditching them again to go partying when they had to pack up their shit after the show. But not Jeff, he's too nice to do something like that. The next morning, when Eddie arrives with a hangover the size of his ego, to quote Gareth, Jeff will only look at him with disappointment.
Or maybe they just don't care enough about him anymore to pull a prank on him. Eddie can't remember the last time they even talked to him, beyond discussing the bare minimum for their shows.
Leaving the bathroom, he carefully walks down a long hallway with the ugliest yellow linoleum Eddie has ever seen. It hurts his eyes and his stomach gives another unpleasant churning. On his right, he sees a glass door with "Intermediate Care Unit" written in big white letters.
What the fuck?
He turns right and continues down the hall, hoping to find someone who can tell him where he is and why his body feels like it's been hit with a sledgehammer. Repeatedly.
"Mr. Munson, you shouldn't be out of bed," a stern voice calls from behind him, and when he turns around he sees a middle-aged woman in white scrubs looking at him with a stern expression on her face.
Feeling more and more like he has landed in an episode of The Twilight Zone, Eddie looks at her with an incredulous look on his face. "Who are you? And where is everyone?"
She scoffs at his answer, clearly not pleased.
"I am the nurse responsible for getting you well enough to leave this ward as soon as possible, and you would make my job a lot easier if you would go back to your bed." Before he can process the meaning of her words, she continues. "As for everyone else, well, no one else overdosed, so I would assume they're all home by now."
Eddie can only stare at her open-mouthed, disbelief and horror probably written all over his face, because her own face is softening slightly.
"Now come on, let's get you back to bed, you really shouldn't be wandering around."
She gently takes his elbow and leads him to a door with the number 719 on it. As she opens it for him, Eddie sees three beds inside. To the left and right, he sees two old men, both looking directly at him. The one on the right says, "We tried to stop him, Nurse Elli, we really did," in a high, nasal voice that is already getting on Eddie's nerves. "The kid wouldn't listen to us, would he, Harry?"
"Exactly," Harry answered, at least in a deeper, more bearable tone.
Ignoring the geriatric Ernie and Bert, Nurse Elli leads him to the bed in the middle and helps him to lie down again. Only then does Eddie remember that all he's wearing is a thin hospital gown with an open back. Well, he thinks, Nurse Elli has seen worse in her profession than his pale, scrawny ass. Besides, it's not like much of his modesty has survived the last two years of sex, drugs and rock'n'roll that have been his life.
By the time he's back under the covers, his nurse has turned around and is walking back over to the door. A bone-deep exhaustion has begun to seep into his body, slowly dragging him back under, but seeing her walk out of the room gives him a burst of energy.
"Wait! Someone needs to tell me what happened. What am I doing here?"
Embarrassment burns hot under his skin as he hears the tears in his voice, but the sound of it breaking at his question makes Nurse Elli stop. She turns back to him and her eyes are much kinder than before.
"The doctor will be with you shortly. He'll explain everything to you, Mr. Munson. I'll let him know you're awake now."
And then she leaves, and Eddie sinks back into his bed in the hope that the next time he opens his eyes, it will all have been just a bad dream.
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It was not all just a bad dream.
The next time Eddie comes to, he's alone in his room, except for a middle-aged man who seems to be the doctor Nurse Elli told him would be stopping by.
Doctor Owens explains that he overdosed on alcohol and coke at a party at some music producer's house and had been in a coma for two full days. They quickly stabilized him, pumped his stomach and gave him fluids through an IV. Eddie is lucky he's still young and his system recovered from the shock quite well. When he showed signs of waking up, they brought him down here from the ICU to free up his bed for someone who needed it more.
"If Mr. Harrington hadn't called 911 and told them to come get you, you'd be dead right now, Mr. Munson. I'm sorry to say this, but from what I've heard, no one at the party even cared, just insisted that you brought your own drugs and they had nothing to do with it. Mr. Harrington has also been your only visitor so far."
His words should make him angry or sad, something, but he can't process them. Not when his brain is still struggling to make sense of the first part of his statement, Eddie’s heart racing in his chest.
"Mr. Harrington? As in..."
"Steve Harrington, he says he's a close friend. He's the one who called the ambulance, gave the operator your cell phone number so they could track your phone and get you to the hospital. He's been visiting you every day since. He also called your uncle, because we are not allowed to give out any medical information to anyone outside of the family. Your uncle should be here soon, I called him yesterday to give him an update on your condition."
His mind is reeling, too many thoughts fighting for dominance and one word screaming louder than any of them in his head.
Steve, Steve, Steve.
How... it couldn't be. Not after their last fight. Not after the things he said to Steve. To his horror, he feels tears burning hot in his eyes at the memory. A memory he had pushed as far back in his mind as he could because every time he thought about that night he wanted to curl up into a fetal position and cry.
"You are a lucky man, Mr. Munson. This man seems to care a lot about you, as does your uncle. You should let them help you. And if you will allow me to be very clear with you: You need all the help you can get. You're young, so your body can take a lot. But it's not in good shape. You have an old man's liver, and your spleen and kidneys are showing signs of the abuse you put them through. The echo also showed some irregularities in your heartbeat. If you continue down the path you're on, your organs will fail and you will die, Mr. Munson. Painfully. So my advice to you is to get clean as soon as possible. We have some facilities we work with, a nurse will bring you some brochures."
Eddie could only nod numbly, tears now falling freely from his eyes, his throat tight and his head aching. Everything hurt. Especially his heart.
"Okay, we'll keep you here for two more days until we're sure you're stable enough to be on your own." Doctor Owens tells him, turning to leave and get on with his day, as if he hadn't just dropped a damn bomb on his head. He pauses at the door and turns back to him.
"And a word of advice from someone twice your age who's seen a lot in his time here: stick with people who really care about you, like Mr. Harrington, instead of spending your time with people who leave you lying in a bathroom in your own vomit."
With that, he steps out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts.
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Eddie doesn't know how long it's been since Dr. Owens left. It could have been hours, days, weeks, for all he knows, too deep inside his own head to spare any thought for the passing of time. Lying in a hospital bed, the nausea and pain raging through his battered body, Eddie finally breaks down and lets the thoughts come.
He's lost in his memories, thinking about everything that led him here, alone and in pain in a hospital bed, after nearly killing himself with things he swore he'd never use. Weed was fine, though he didn't indulge much anyway, preferring to sell it and make some much-needed money than to smoke it himself. But coke? Nah, he knew how epically stupid it would be to even try that shit.
And yet he did.
A party to celebrate the release of their first single. One lapse in judgment while flying so fucking high that nothing could touch him. One bad decision was all it took for him to succumb to the effects of the white powder.
The high he felt after snorting his first line had been magical and he's been chasing that feeling ever since, blind to all he's sacrificed in the process.
It changed him, he knows. Every euphoric high that made him talk a mile a minute, overly affectionate, loud and brash and in love with the whole world would inevitably end in a crash. He became irritable and hostile toward the people he loved, thinking they were out to get him. Whenever his friends or Wayne or Steve so much as looked at him the wrong way about his new habit, he would lash out at them.
He became increasingly angry and accused them of trying to control him, of envying him his success and happiness.
That's when he started drinking, too. He drank himself stupid so that he wouldn't have to think about the way Steve was starting to look at him as if he didn't even know him anymore. To forget the sad look in Wayne's eyes or the way his friends had started to avoid him. When he was drunk out of his mind, he could forget the way the Coffin boys had started talking about him behind his back, could ignore the murderous looks Robin kept sending his way.
Thinking back, Eddie felt like everything had spun out of his control so fast.
It's like one day he comes home to Steve, ecstatic about signing their first record deal and celebrating the start of a new chapter with the love of his life by dancing around their living room barefoot, laughing and kissing each other, promising happiness and forever.
Only to throw that love right back in Steve's face the next day by calling him needy, clingy, and full of bullshit.
He claimed that Steve was holding him back and that Steve didn't love him, that he just didn't want to be alone. He also said that Steve still thought he was better than Eddie, better than the town freak, the fuck-up, the trailer trash.
You don't want me to succeed and finally step out of your perfect shadow, because then what would stop me from leaving you, right?
Eddie regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Secretly, he had always feared that his success would cause a rift in his relationship with Steve. Eddie had no desire to leave Steve, because Steve was still the best goddamn thing that ever happened to him, but he couldn't help but feel that he was losing him anyway. Even more so when he had seen Steve's face crumble, when he had seen the exact moment when his heart had broken into a million pieces.
He had wanted to take Steve in his arms and apologize for saying cruel things he didn't even believe. It had been his own insecurities that had caused him to lash out, and he had hurt Steve before he had a chance to be hurt himself.
Instead, in true Munson fashion, he had run away and hasn't seen or heard from Steve in six long months that have felt like years.
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Steve looks almost exactly the same as he did the last time Eddie saw him.
That's not a good thing, though. Because Steve had been driving himself crazy with worry about Eddie for months before Eddie had taken Steve's heart and torn it apart right in front of him.
Back then he had the same dark circles under his eyes that he has now. The usually golden skin is still too pale and Steve's trademark hair looks even more disheveled from how often he's run his hands through it. His well-fitting jeans, which once hugged his ass just right, now sit baggy on his too-slim frame and Eddie hates it.
He hates that Eddie could still hurt Steve even after he left. That even from a distance he managed to ruin the only person who ever really loved him besides Wayne. There should be some kind of warning sign on him: Beware, do not get attached, will hurt you.
"You're awake," are the first words out of Steve's mouth, and despite everything, Eddie can't stop his heart from responding to the sound of his sweet voice. Steve sounds tired, weary, but to Eddie's ears his voice is better than any Metallica song could ever be.
He tries to smile at him, but he feels as tired as Steve sounds, so it lacks the usual spark.
"Sure am. From what I heard, I have you to thank for that," Eddie adds, unable to help himself. He still doesn't know why and especially how Steve knew he needed help. If this were a Nicholas Sparks novel, their love would have created an invisible bond that made Steve feel when Eddie needed help.
But this is real life, and no matter how much he loves Steve, there is no invisible bond holding them together. Just an unbridgeable chasm.
Steve is still hovering at the door and Eddie thinks he is fighting the urge to wring his hands. Eddie knows his tells by now and he figures Steve isn't sure he's welcome here. Which is ridiculous, because even at his worst, Eddie will always want Steve around, no matter what crap Eddie tells him.
It takes a lot of effort, but Eddie manages to sit up and lean out of bed to pat the chair next to his bed, his eyes never leaving Steve.
Eddie sees Steve's shoulders slump, some of the tension visibly draining from his body at the gesture, and Steve walks over to him and sits down tentatively.
"So..." Eddie begins, dragging out the 'o'. "What happened?"
Steve looks up from his hands in his lap, obviously surprised by the question. "You don't remember?"
"No. The last thing I remember is sitting on a leather couch with a bunch of people I don't know and don't care about, fooling myself into thinking I was having fun." Eddie has had plenty of time to think about his life and where he went wrong, so he decides to stick with honesty. Steve deserves as much and more. "Someone handed me a bottle of whiskey and I opened it and started drinking straight from the bottle. That's the last thing I remember. The next thing I know, I wake up in an ugly bathroom that smells like disinfectant, my whole body hurts like I've been hit by a train, and I have no idea where I am."
Before he can bring himself to say the next part, it's Eddie who has to look away, his eyes focused on his hands playing with the edge of the blanket.
"They told me it was you who called 911 and helped them find me. They said without you I would have died lying in my own vomit." He swallows audibly, tears burning in his eyes, wondering how he could have cried more in the last ten hours than in the last ten years. "They also said you were the only one who came to see me."
Eddie forces himself to look up and into Steve's eyes as he says, "Thank you, Steve. You didn't... I don't deserve you doing this. Not after..." The words die in his throat and he feels like he's choking on them.
He can't do this. He's a fucking coward, not worth saving. Not even worth looking at someone as good and beautiful as Steve.
There's a crease between Steve's eyebrows that Eddie used to smooth with his thumb and lips every time he saw it, and his fingers itch to do it again.
"You called me," Steve tells him, his own hands playing with the edge of Eddie's blanket. "At the party. You called me from the bathroom. I thought it was a butt call or maybe drunk dialing, I hadn't heard from you in months, Eddie."
Eddie winces at his words, but Steve chooses to ignore it.
"But then you sounded so small on the phone. You called me 'Stevie' and 'sweetheart' and then you started to cry." Steve looks like he's about to cry, too. His eyes are glassy and Eddie gets lost in the way the light breaks in them, gold and brown and green all mixed together.
"You told me you weren't feeling so good, that your stomach hurt and the room was spinning so you had to lie down. Your voice -" And here Steve's own voice breaks, after it had already started to shake badly, and without thinking Eddie grabs Steve's hand and holds it tight.
"I'm here, Stevie. You saved me. I'm okay."
"But you almost weren't!" Steve insists, his voice rising, and Eddie finally understands the depth of Steve's feelings. After all these months, after everything Eddie had said and done, Steve still cared deeply for him.
"You talked like you were dying, Eddie. You weren't drunk dialing, you were calling to say goodbye, asshole. You were telling me all these things that I needed to hear you say for months. But I wanted to hear them with you in the room so I could punch you in the face and then kiss it better. Not like this. Not as your last words over a fucking phone call."
That's when Steve breaks down, the tears finally overflowing and he buries his face on the bed at Eddie's hip, their joined hands pressed against his wet cheek.
"Baby," Eddie whispers, shocked, his own heart aching worse than ever as he begins to run his fingers through Steve's messy hair. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm so, so sorry, Stevie. I never meant to hurt you, but it seems like that's all I did."
Taking a deep breath, Eddie continues. "I don't know what I told you on the phone, but since I woke up I've had time to think about it all. I don't know if I can ever make it up to you. Or to Wayne and the kids, Gareth and Jeff and Grant. If I will ever deserve your forgiveness, but I want to try. I want to deserve it one day. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but... I will go to rehab. I will quit drugs and alcohol, I will clean up my act. And then, if you let me, I will try to make it up to you every single day for the rest of our lives."
Steve slowly lifts his head from the bed and looks at him, searching Eddie's eyes for something.
"Why?" Steve asks, his hand gripping Eddie's even tighter.
There are so many reasons, so many things Eddie wants to say, but in the end there is only one simple answer.
"Because I love you."
The smile on Steve's face tells him it's the right answer, even more so when Steve presses a kiss into his palm. But then he turns serious once more.
"I haven't forgiven you yet, Eddie. You hurt me too much and I need time. But I need you to stop trying to run away from me. I don't want you to go to rehab and clean yourself up before you come back to me. I want to be with you every step of the way. Do it together. Because if you love me, you have to let me take care of you. You have to let me in, Eddie. Let me carry you for once, like Sam carried Frodo when he couldn't go on. Trust me not to let you fall. Please."
"Did you really just make a reference to Lord of the Rings?" Eddie demands and Steve rolls his eyes.
"Is that what you get from everything I just said?"
Eddie sobers up immediately. "No, it just made me fall a little bit more in love with you, and I didn't think that was possible."
"So what do you say?" Steve asks, chewing his lip between his teeth, and Eddie suspects he's not even breathing.
"It's going to suck, Stevie," Eddie says in a quiet voice, stroking Steve's knuckles with his thumb."Are you sure?"
"Yes." No hesitation, no wavering in his voice. It's the same tone, the same determined look on his face as when he told Eddie "Fuck'em," when Eddie told him people in their small-minded town would talk if Steve held his hand in public.
"There's a bunch of brochures of places to check out. Wanna help me pick the least horrible one?" Eddie says, pointing to the table in the corner of the room.
Without another word, Steve gets up to grab them, and for the first time in a long time, Eddie allows himself to hope.
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themightynyunyi · 1 year
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His.
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