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#has a happy ending i promise
resident-gay-bitch · 1 year
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To Eddie, music was never about the fame. 
He always believed in being a good person. Too many bad people in his life have shown him what’s most important, and Eddie’s always believed that no famous person can be good. Sure, there are kind and generous famous people, ones that gave and loved and supported others. But if you’re sitting on that much money, and that much power, how good can you really be? 
Okay, well, sure. It’s not like fame isn’t something he wanted. Who wouldn’t want to be famous, for real? Yeah, famous people aren’t good in his eyes, but Eddie knew he wasn’t all that good anyway. He tried to be, he really did, but sometimes he was just an asshole, and he knew that. Plus, he’d spent a few too many nights in the holding cell down at Hawkins PD to be considered a good person. So yeah, fame would be cool. Like, what doesn’t sound appealing about the fucking Freak rocking up at his highschool ten year reunion as an uber rich, world famous rockstar, desired by men and woman alike? It would be fucking awesome. He’d be able to fuck with so many of these dumb assholes. 
Music to Eddie was about the feeling. 
He played to feel. 
He performed to make other people feel. 
His love for music started young. His mother would put him on her lap at the mere age of three and press his little hands over the ivory keys of her old family piano. He could play a handful of quippy songs by the age of five. She used to sing him lullabies (which were mostly just old blues songs and a few of her favourites by the Beatles), and Eddie learned to sing along with her.
Often when just sitting at home, when he was colouring or doing his homework or something at the kitchen table, he’d listen to his mother hum whilst she cooked or cleaned around him. And he’d start to hum along, and they’d start to sing, and then soon enough they’d be dancing around the apartment singing their songs. And when Eddie was five, he was still a small kid, but he saw Wayne playing his guitar and wanted to learn. He couldn’t stretch his fingers over the frets or strings, couldn’t wrap a hand around the neck, hell, the body was bigger than he was. And so Wayne pulled out his old ukulele, tuned it up, and taught Eddie a few songs on that. 
When Eddie turned eight, and he got a little bigger, Wayne gifted Eddie his old guitar. Eddie learnt. He taught himself, mostly. Well, a few chords from Wayne, a few chords from his mother, and the rest he just… figured out. He’d rent videos of lessons, or guitarists playing live in concert and would imitate the way they moved their fingers. 
He had a good ear for sound, learnt from a game his mother taught him. She was a singer, used to sing on the late night news with a bunch of other chorus girls. So she’d hum a note and Eddie would try and match it, and she’d keep humming it until he got it right. So he’d just keep moving his fingers in different formations until something sounded smooth and resembled the sound in the song he was trying to learn. He was sure it was probably wrong, sometimes, not the way the rockstars played it, but it sounded the same, so that’s all he cared about. 
He could write well too. He always used to like coming up with silly songs whilst getting ready in the morning. He had a song for brushing his teeth that went for exactly two minutes, to make sure he brushed them well. He had a song for getting dressed, and a song for packing his lunch. He had a song for everything, and his mother bought him a journal to write all his songs down in, so he did. He wrote them all, and then he wrote more, and by the age of eleven Eddie had two shelves full of journals with all his songs. 
Music was his way of feeling, his way of coping. 
When his mother died, so did the music.
**
if you'd like to keep reading, you can find the full 11.3 k word fic here on ao3 :) don't forget to reblog and leave a kudos!!
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diamondsheep · 5 months
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What do you mean >:3 face ?
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He got embarrassed bc Sanji keeps annoying him with "not" knowing about that face ( which he does on purpose just to get that same reaction from the Marimo )
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mimimar · 1 month
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page 7 of my ivy comic ✿
<previous page completed full comic> first page (prints)
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imfinereallyy · 28 days
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1 pt. 3
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦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)
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bisexuallsokka · 9 months
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“I was ready to fight for us. I was ready to find a way, any way for us to work. And you were the one who ran away when it got too hard!” “That’s not what happened and you know it!” Sokka snaps. “It was never going to work, and it was stupid to keep pretending otherwise! I’m sorry Zuko, I am, but just because you are the Fire Lord, just because we– we were in love, everything wasn’t going to magically fall into place.” Zuko still has a stubborn expression on his face. There are angry tears in his eyes when he says, “We could’ve figured it out. We could’ve…been us. We could’ve had a good life together.” “Yeah, well, I guess we won’t ever know.” (or, the twenty years between Zuko and Sokka breaking up and finally getting together again, shown in 5 times they don’t say goodbye, +1 time they don’t have to)
here is my divorced zukka fic that i have been working on for fifty million years <3 as I mention in the notes of the fic, i borrowed some iconic lines from some iconic fictional divorced couples that I am listing under the read more
Part one:
"We could’ve been us." - Good Omens season two
"We could’ve had a good life together" - Brokeback Mountain
Part two:
Everything from: “I just…maybe we should talk about,” Zuko gestures between the two of them, “this. I feel like there’s some things I wouldn't mind saying. And explaining.” to “We gave it a go” is adapted from a TomShiv moment in the last season of Succession.
Part three:
"Sometimes I miss you so much I can hardly stand it." - Brokeback Mountain
Part four:
"I love you" / "It’ll pass" - Fleabag 
"I love you" / "I know" - Empire Strikes Back
i'm a fool who didn't keep a list of everything i used as i went, so if you think i missed anything please let me know!! again i am in no way trying to pass these as my own lines
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キミの記憶 (Memories of You)
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afewproblems · 1 year
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Part Three Mean!Eddie Misunderstandings AU
Part One, Part Two, read on Ao3 Here
Thank you everyone for your patience, I am splitting up this last part into two (I know, I know - I'm sorry!!)
***
 The drive home after dropping Robin off was long. She had offered to stay the night again but Steve insisted she go home unless she wanted her parents to throw them and impromptu engagement party after she eventually graduates --Steve still winces when he thinks about Mrs.Buckley cooing about what sweet babies they would make when she thought he had left the other night. 
He pulls into the empty driveway and shuts off the Beemer’s engine; it feels criminal for the sun to still be at full force at this time but at least he's been able to avoid the heat for most of the day. 
And say what you will about the Harringtons, but at least they had invested in AC before skipping town without him.
Once inside Steve hangs his keys on the hook beside the door and heads upstairs to change. He just wants to crawl into bed, hide himself under the covers and sleep after the day he's had. 
Robin did her best to give him a pep talk after their run in with Eddie at Family Video but it had mostly consisted of her brainstorming how to shave his head without implicating themselves. 
It made Steve laugh despite arguing that Eddie's hair was his third best feature and Steve is fairly certain he would be second in line to avenge it next to Eddie.
Steve throws on an old pair of pajamas and a ratty Hawkins high t-shirt from the floor beside his laundry basket. He sniffs it dubiously and throws it on, it could go another day without a wash --it's just him tonight anyway. 
Alone again.
Steve makes his way downstairs and debates a frozen pizza or the leftovers in the Tupperware Mrs.Henderson had forced into his hands before he left their house the other night. 
He'd picked up a lot of recipes from Claudia and learned different ways to stretch an ingredient across multiple meals or even make a single meal last multiple days -with his parents gone so often it had been crucial for him to learn. Steve isn't even sure where they are at this point or if they know about the earthquakes. 
A small part of him hopes they don't know, because if they did and still haven't called or come back to Hawkins to check on him….
Steve quells that line of thought and tosses it into the little box in the corner of his mind. 
Don't think about it. 
Steve rolls his shoulders and opens the fridge before taking out the tupperware and grabbing a plate from the cupboard.
The sudden sound of tires crunching and an engine turning off outside has him looking towards the front entryway, it's definitely in his driveway, but he isn't expecting anyone?
Oh god…what if it's Hopper or Nancy? Another gate? If Vecna's back, they needed him. 
Steve nearly drops the plate in his hands in his haste to get to the door, he manages to put it on the counter before sliding over the hardwood floor as he stumbles into the foyer. 
Steve flings open the door to reveal a nervous Eddie Munson on his doorstep.
"Eddie?" Steve says, his voice pitched with surprise and concern, he looks around for any sign of one of the other kids, "What is it? Is it Vecna? Is anyone hurt?"
Eddie blinks, his eyebrows pop up into his scruffy bangs, "What? No, no man, it's just me".
Steve breathes out a sharp sigh of relief and lets his heart rate slowly calm down, but if it wasn't the Upside Down why the hell was Eddie here? 
Contrary to popular opinion, Steve wasn't actually stupid, he knew Eddie wouldn't just be here for him, he'd made it perfectly clear that they weren't friends.
"Oh," Steve mumbles, still confused, "did you leave something here the other night?"
Eddie tilts his head slightly and his eyebrows fall into the barest furrow, "No Steve, I just, can I come inside?" 
His right hand twitches once before reaching for the door frame as he steps forward.
A million questions nearly burst forth from Steve, what do you want? Did the kids put you up to this? Are you going to say it to my face this time? What do you want from me?
He wrenches them back, shoving them all into that same little box, and instead says, "yeah man," as he steps aside to let Eddie through.
Eddie grins but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, the anxious feeling in Steve's gut, twisting and cold, begins to build again.
All at once Steve is incredibly aware of the fact that he's wearing pajamas and a dirty old t-shirt, he's sweaty and tired from a long day at work and he doesn't have the emotional fortitude to be told off again.
"Hey, Eddie, listen," Steve fumbles through the words, he reaches up to pinch his fingers into his eyes, "if this is about Hellfire, I'll back off, I didn’t mean to," he stops and swallows, searching for what to say. 
Because, what did he even do? It's still not clear and the thought makes him want to grind his teeth.
"To like, interfere with your set up? Or, or, actually, you know what,” Steve's voice suddenly climbs in volume, "I don't know, what did I do Munson?"
Steve raises his hands from his eyes to his hair which he grips harshly with one hand while the other gestures wildly in front of him.
"Why are you here? Why did you come to Family Video,” Steve shakes his head and chews harshly on his bottom lip, “if you hate me, I don't understand why you keep coming around?" 
Eddie is frozen in front of him, a ‘deer in the headlights’ look in his eye, his mouth opens once and closes, but Steve keeps going.
"I mean, was this just some kind of weird game to you? Let's see how much we can stick it to old King-Steve? I heard you that night man," his eyes begin to sting as he yells, his throat tightens and the words waver slightly at the end. 
Steve grits his teeth to keep himself from speaking, from revealing more than he wants to, he hasn't felt like this since Nancy called him Bullshit in the middle of that crowded Halloween party and isn't that thought a punch to the gut.
Steve shakes his head and turns his face away to pinch his nose so harshly he worries it'll bruise.
"So," Steve whispers, letting the fight drain out of him from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, "what do you want, because I am not really up for whatever this is". 
Eddie isn't looking at him anymore, his face is pointed at Steve but his eyes are trained on a point on the floor between them, his eyebrows furrowed.
Unbelievable.
"Look," Steve breathes out, he reaches up and presses the fingers of his left hand into his eyes, surreptitiously wiping away any evidence of moisture, and gestures behind him at the foyer, "if you want something just spit it out, otherwise I'm tired and I'm going to bed so--"
"I'm sorry" Eddie blurts out, he takes a step closer to Steve who steps back without a thought. Eddie winces at the movement and draws his arms around himself.
Eddie seems to hesitate, his eyes dart over Steve's face and once towards the front door before his expression flattens and his shoulders square in one fluid movement. 
Steve's stomach does a little swoop as he remembers that Eddie nearly sacrificed himself to save Dustin, he wonders if his face held the same expression before he cut the rope.
"I'm sorry for what I said, I," Eddie swallows audibly and shifts his weight from foot to foot, "I was so sure of something for a really long time and it made me act like an ass". 
"Sure of what?" Steve says, his voice nearly a whisper.
"How much do you remember about me from school?" Eddie murmurs eventually, there's a slight tremor running through his hands which tighten their grip on the sides of his jean vest until his knuckles stain white.
Steve shakes his head, there wasn’t much, but by the time he had heard whispers of the name Munson, he had been dealing with Hargrove, and Nancy, and Dustin's attempts at rehabilitating a demo-dog --he'd had more than enough on his plate at the time to worry about some metal-head that stood on tables in the school cafeteria. 
Eddie's breathing stops and starts in short shallow hitching breaths and his face grows even paler than normal, he looks like he's seconds from passing out if Steve is being honest with himself. 
Fuck.
"Hey, hey Eddie, come on breathe man," Steve says sharply, he moves quickly, keeping his hands up ready to catch him, just in case, as Steve leads Eddie towards the kitchen. 
He helps Eddie sit down on a stool by the counter ledge and grabs a glass from the cupboard. Steve flits around the kitchen, distracting himself with getting Eddie water and a cool damp washcloth which he drapes over the back of his neck.
Eddie lets his head droop slightly with the weight of the towel and scoffs, muttering something under his breath; Steve's hackles raise of their own accord as he steps away from him.
"I'm just trying to help man, Jesus," he bites out, resisting the impressive urge to throw the other man out. Steve leans against the wall opposite Eddie instead and scowls. 
"Christ," Eddie snaps as he grabs the cloth and brings it around to wipe his face, "I said, I can't believe I thought you were a Grade-A asshole".
Steve suppresses a flinch at the title, the tightness in his chest returns at full force.
"Thanks," Eddie mumbles, slumping in his seat as the anger seems to drain out of him. Eddie closes his eyes, holding up the towel, "how did you know that would help?" 
He reaches for the glass in front of him, the slight tremble of his fingers the only remaining sign of Eddie's panic.
Steve shrugs, a small part of him wants to tell Eddie about the Russians.
How his sense of touch almost always helped to snap him out of an episode, whether it was Robin’s small warm hand on his cheek when things got too much, or a cool wet washcloth to wipe away the sweat from his brow after a waking nightmare. It was grounding, bringing him back to the present quicker than any other method he and Robin have tried in the last year or so since recovering from their time underneath Starcourt.
Steve’s not quite ready for that conversation though.
Eddie's watching, analyzing him the way Robin does sometimes and Steve realizes he must have been quiet for awhile, Eddie’s big brown eyes trace over Steve questioningly, but he keeps his mouth shut for now. 
"You want to talk about it?" Steve says slowly, changing the subject. He half expects Eddie to tell him to shove it and get up from the stool to leave, pretending this conversation never took place. 
He doesn't though.
Instead Eddie drops the towel on the counter and brings both of his hands to his face. He sits there, hunched for almost a minute solid before letting them drop back into his lap.
Eddie doesn't look at Steve as he starts to speak.
"I've lived with my uncle for a very long time," he says softly, the words almost too quiet for Steve to make out at first, "I moved in with him just before highschool". 
Eddie swallows and licks his lips, "I told you a little bit about my dad already yeah?" 
He raises his eyes to finally look at Steve, who nods again. It feels wrong to speak, like he would be interrupting.
"Well, he wasn't arrested till after I was in Hawkins, but I don't think I really felt safe until the day Wayne got that call". 
Steve's stomach abruptly falls into his shoes. 
Sure, Eddie's story about learning to hot wire had made Steve pause but he hadn't really thought more about that story beyond the ease with which Eddie brought the vehicle to life. He feels his chest twinge with shame this time and steps closer.
"Apparently," Eddie continues, slowly, carefully, "Billy Hargrove had taken it upon himself to tell everyone he could about me and my shitty fuckin' family".
"That uh," Eddie's wary eyes flick up at Steve once more, his expression tight, "that my dad kicked me out, woulda killed me if he could've".
Steve feels a chill roll up his spine at the words.
“And he wasn’t wrong, got all the details right somehow, even the one about me liking--" he trails off before wiping his left hand down his face while the right reaches for the towel again and begins fiddling with it.
Steve makes a noise, something soft and understanding, he takes a step closer to the counter, halting as Eddie looks up with open panic.
"But," Eddie continues with watchful eyes, "up until a few hours ago, I thought…you had done that".
And that is the last straw.
Steve doesn't think this time when he moves, he steps up to Eddie and before he can even open his mouth or flinch Steve has him wrapped in his arms.
It's awkward with Eddie still seated on the stool, his face pressed into Steve's collarbone, but he’s tense and Steve knows he's stopped breathing altogether. 
"I'm sorry about your dad," Steve murmurs into the top of Eddie's wild hair, and he is. Steve knows exactly what it's like to have a dad that uses violence to get his way, that screams first and asks questions later.
Eddie shakes his head once, an incredulous expression pulls at his brow as he leans back slightly to look Steve up and down once more before he grins sharply.
"Yeah well," Eddie hums, "I'm sure he wasn't planning on having a fag for a kid".
Steve pulls away abruptly, but keeps his arms around Eddie's shoulders, his face briefly twisting into a harsh scowl. Steve doesn't catch the terror that flits across Eddie's face as he stands up to his full height.
"Don't call yourself that," Steve says harshly, "and don't use that word around Robin and the kids".
He lets go of Eddie entirely, and begins to pace, "Your dad is a piece of shit, who didn't deserve you and Billy Hargrove is lucky he's dead," Steve growls lowly, he takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment before releasing it slowly through his nose, he needed to calm down.
Like he said, Billy was dead, and the senior Munson was in some prison somewhere where he couldn't get to Eddie anyway, and not every problem required the use of his fists, Robin's words echo in his ear. 
"What?" Eddie blurts out, surprise painting his face. He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes at Steve as though he's never seen him before. 
But there's a fire in Steve that has been burning for three years, ever since he tried to apologize to Jonathan and Nancy the very first time, and the flames burned even brighter a year ago when he stopped to take in Robin's pale, desperate, face as she told him about Tammy.  
"And I know Hawkins is shit, trust me," Steve growls, he steps into Eddie's space again, "but there are people here who believe that there is nothing wrong with you, got it? You have us now".
"I, I know," Eddie mumbles, he's still watching Steve with something akin to awe in his eyes but it disappears as quickly as Steve spots it.
"Thank you," Steve says eventually, "for telling me, sorry if I freaked you out just now".
It's quiet in the kitchen for a beat, the only noise is the steady tick of the large wall clock beside the pantry and the hum of cicadas from outside the kitchen window Steve had forgotten to close that morning.
Steve nervously chews his lip, he's ruined it again, his second attempts at being cool about someone coming out to him even worse than the first. Robin had been nice about it at the time -and admittedly neither of them could quite remember the bulk of the conversation, but he does remember telling Robin her first crush was a dud and sounded like a dying Muppet. 
So, he was two for two.
"You're sorry?" Eddie finally croaks, his eyes are larger than Steve has ever seen him and his chest stutters once as he breathes rapidly.
Steve reaches for the discarded cloth on the counter just to keep his hands from reaching for Eddie. 
"You're sorry?" Eddie says again, his voice barely a whisper, "you're unbelievable is what you are".
Oh. 
Steve sighs and blinks once, twice, before closing his eyes, "I know".
"Shut up," Eddie barks, "I'm the one who is trying to apologize and you're being so--"
"I know--"
"No! Let me fucking talk Harrington," Eddie shouts, and Steve feels his teeth click as he snaps his mouth shut.
He braces himself, better to get it all out on the table now, he thinks, let him say his piece and then they can all just move on -he can move on. 
"I don't think I ever understood you, how you fit in with this whole group," Eddie mutters, his face tipped towards the floor, he brushes a handful of curls away from his face as they slide forward.
"I mean, I watched you in action, you ripped a fucking bat in half man," he laughs but his expression is shuttered, almost blank as he counts off on his ringed fingers, "you carried me out of hell, you listen to all the shit the kids say when they tell you stories, do you know how many people would just tune them out? You cooked for my uncle, you--Robin is your best friend? Robin?" 
"Hey,” Steve says sharply with a glare, “layoff Robin, what are you even saying?"
"See!” Eddie throws his hands towards Steve emphatically, a wild look in his eyes,”that's what I’m talking about! Thats, it’s--okay it’s not coming out right," Eddie stands up from the stool but stays beside the counter. 
He huffs out a small quiet laugh and shakes his head, his eyes never once leaving Steve’s face, "you're just, you're not who I thought man".
Steve crosses his arms, wrapping them tightly around his midsection and the Hawkins high logo in faded orange print,"I thought we already had this conversation?"
"Yeah well, I actually mean it this time".
"...Right,” Steve sighs tiredly, it's laughable really, just how wrong he and Robin had been. 
All that time he thought they were growing closer, that Eddie had been his friend. 
All those small moments over the last few months were nothing. Just two people with vastly different expectations of what they meant to one another. 
Eddie’s face twists as the words tumble out at a mile a minute, "no, fuck, Steve, I can't, just--I don't," he grabs two handfuls of hair and yanks, hard, "I came here to tell you that I'm sorry, and I'm fucking it up.”
Eddie takes a deep breath before letting it all out in one smooth motion, "you're amazing, Steve, and I'm kicking myself for not seeing that before”.
He takes a step towards Steve but hesitates,spinning the rings on his fingers.
“I’m just, I’m really sorry and I hope that you can forgive me, that we can get back to where we were before?”
Steve feels himself smile mechanically, his chest tight and cold, he nods once and hears the words, 'yeah man,' leave his mouth. It's as though he's in a fog, everything feels so far away.
The smile Eddie gives him is brilliant, bright enough to light up the kitchen but Steve turns away and sweeps a tremulous hand through his hair. 
"Yeah, Eds, we'll see each other around, we're good".
Eddie's smile falters slightly, but Steve is determined to end this conversation, go upstairs and crawl into bed for a millennia,
"I'll put in a good word with Mrs. Henderson," Steve continues, gesturing towards the abandoned tupperware on the counter, "I think she'd listen if I told her you guys needed a place for Dusty-Bun's club".
Eddie's face falls slightly, "What, Steve--" 
"It'll be great, Claudia makes the best snacks and she honestly has a better basement than the Wheelers --but don't ever say that to Mike or you'll never hear the end of it," Steve says with a half smile as he walks towards the counter to grab the tupperware, he lifts it up to show Eddie before he reaches for the fridge door to put it away.
He's not hungry anymore anyway. 
"But…" Eddie whispers, the tone catches Steve's attention but he can't look at Eddie right now, he just wants to sleep.
"I mean, you could come, you know," Eddie clears his throat and moves, the sound of fabric and shoes scuffing across hardwood makes Steve finally look up.
Eddie is beside him, his expression equal parts wary but hopeful, his big brown eyes fixed on Steve.
I thought Hell would freeze over? Steve thinks to himself angrily before biting the inside of his cheek. 
They've just reached some kind of truce, Eddie apologized for fucks sake, he should just let this go. 
But there is a heat now that simmers in his chest, it makes him want to scream. Steve swallows roughly and pushes the feeling down, trying his best to smother the flames into embers before they engulf him completely.
If friendship is all he is allowed, then Steve can work with that, he just has to reign things in a bit. He’s been playing fast and loose with his heart for so long and that it's become a dangerous game.
"Yeah, sure, I can," Steve mumbles tiredly, "I just have to check my schedule, Keith's been keeping me on my toes lately". 
He shrugs and gives Eddie a wane smile before clearing his throat and turning away, "anyways man, I'm beat".
Steve moves towards the opposite hallway, he feels like he's escaping.
Eddie stands in the kitchen, shoulders drooped, but he nods and stuffs his hands into his pockets. He takes a step towards the foyer before turning sharply around.
"Harring- Steve," Eddie winces, "Steve, I also wanted to say we're sorry about the table, we didn't mean to scratch it all to hell that night and," he swallows roughly, "I can, we can chip in to…help fix it or whatever". 
But Steve is already shaking his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips, "it's cracked actually--"
"What?!"
"No, no," Steve cuts in, he waves his hand to sweep away the panic in Eddie's voice, "Sorry, it's been cracked for awhile, you guys didn't have anything to do with it".
Eddie deflates in obvious relief, he laughs brightly, letting the last of his nervous energy flow out in a cackle.
"Fuck man, thank God, I definitely do not have the money to fix that shit," Eddie sweeps his hands into his curls to pull them away from his face, "why's it still cracked?"
Steve shrugs, "No one's bothered with it before, easier to just leave it I guess," he breathes out sharply through his nose in something like a laugh, "I wouldn't know how to fix it if I tried, never been good at woodworking". 
Steve looks back at Eddie to find him staring, his eyebrows have pinched together and gone is the smile that shone nearly as much as the rings on his hands. 
"Anyway, I'll see you around man," Steve hums, he doesn't need Eddie analyzing him, seeing something in him that he shouldn't. It’s a dismissal, one that Eddie seems to take well, despite the stiffness of his shoulders.
"Yeah, I'll see ya," Eddie says softly over his shoulder as he makes his way out of the kitchen, back towards the front door.
Steve waits until the door has closed, until he hears gravel under tires, until he's sure that Eddie is gone. His chest tightens once more with hot blistering anger that builds in his stomach before overflowing into his chest.
It drives him forward, the anger, the overwhelming heat building up his neck and pounding in his head, he's at the counter all of a sudden.
The plate he was going to use for supper is in his hands.
He raises it over his head and brings it down in a satisfying clash of shattered ceramic that explodes all over the hardwood.
Steve stands there, breathing raggedy in a daze.
Fuck.
The floor is covered in shards of varying sizes, he realizes belatedly he's only wearing socks but the thoughts come slow as though dragging themselves through mud. 
Steve steps over the ceramic and walks to the pantry, he removes the broom and dustpan from the small hanger on the inside of the door.
Steve begins to sweep up the shards into a little pile, wincing as a few pieces here and there cut through the fabric of his socks and into the soles of his feet.
Steve doesn't realize he's crying until he sees the tears drop into the pile of plate shards and dust. Steve scrubs his arm over his eyes roughly and sniffs, his lungs stutter once as he chokes out a wet cough. 
"Get it together," he says sharply to himself.
Steve methodically sweeps the rest of the plate into the dustpan and walks towards the sink before opening the bottom cupboard and tipping the pan into the garbage can. 
He takes off his socks and examines the bottoms, there are a few small pieces of plate but no blood -Steve counts it as a win.
Steve leaves the broom and dustpan out and walks himself and the dirty socks out of the kitchen and up the stairs back to his room, his limbs feel heavy and the steady heat that had crawled up his neck has been replaced by a bone deep exhaustion that he longs to sink into.
Steve closes his bedroom door and steps towards the bed, allowing himself to tip forward and collapse against the comforter.
It's hard to move now, everything feels sore, from the tips of his toes, and the soles of his feet, to the top of his head. It's as though someone stretched him out between their hands and twisted and twisted until there was nothing left inside of him. 
He's empty and that thought is terrifying.
Steve reaches out blindly for the phone on his bedside table, he manages to snag it by the cord and narrowly avoids smacking himself in the face as the hard plastic swings into his hands. He dials the Buckley's home number by memory and waits.
"Hello?" 
"Hey, Mrs.Buckley, can you put Robin on?"
"Of course dear, but we are going to be having dinner soon so not too long okay?"
"Yes Mrs. Buckley,"
He waits, letting his pillow cradle the phone to his ear while the muffled background noise of the Buckley household trickles through the speaker, talking and television and laughter. It's a stark contrast to his own silent home. 
"Steve?"
"Hey Bobby," he nearly whispers into the receiver, he feels himself melt into the mattress at the sound of her voice.
"Steve" Robin grumbles over the line, "I just left you like an hour ago, what's up?"
He chews on his lip and the words for a beat, considering how to even tell her, "Eddie, um, came by".
"What?!" Robin's voice squeals over the speaker and Steve almost drops the phone as he jerks it away from his ear, "what did he want? Did you let him in?"
"Yeah Bobs," he sighs tiredly, "he, he apologized--"
"Steve, we talked about this, you forgive people way too easily--"
"I know, I just…" he doesn't even know how to say it, that a rage burnt him up from the inside out until he was nothing but hollow embers and smoke.
"Robin, I was so angry," 
"Did you yell at him? What did you say?"
"No," he pushes himself up from the pillows, just catching the phone as it threatens to tumble from his shoulder, "he left, he, we talked about going back to normal, he…"
"Steve, what the hell did he say this time, you have to tell me, it's like the platonic soulmate law--"
"He didn't mean it the first time, when we talked in the Upside Down, that he thought I was a good dude, everything I thought for months has been a lie," his voice shakes as he continues, "he thought I spread this awful rumor about him back in highschool and he's never forgiven me for it, but I had no idea and I didn't do it -I know I was the fucking worst back then but Robin I promise you I didnt-"
"Hey, hey, it's okay, do you want me to come over?" 
"No, your mum said you had dinner right away,"
"Steve, you’re way more important than dinner, that's so lame but it's one thousand percent true and I'll come up with something better when I get to your house, I'm leaving now".
Steve smiles as Robin hangs up with a soft, ‘see you in a minute!’ and sets the phone back on the receiver, he closes his eyes and tucks his face into the pillows for just a moment. 
Steve wakes with a start to the sound of feet hitting the stairs two at a time, he looks over at the red numbers on his bedside clock and squints as copper sunlight hits his face through his bedroom window. It's nearly quarter after seven now and the exhaustion that had held his limbs seems to have loosened ever so slightly. 
Steve doesn't move from the bed as Robin opens his door and pads slowly across the carpet. She says nothing in greeting and crawls onto the mattress. Steve shifts slightly to let her wiggle her way in between him and the bedroom wall.
"You asshole," Robin scolds softly, but there's still a smile in her voice, "you didn't even lock your front door, anyone could have come in here".
She wraps her thin arms around him from behind and Steve feels himself melt into the embrace.
"This have anything to do with the broom and dustpan on the counter?" she continues after a beat, "you don't really strike me as the sweeping type, it was like pulling teeth getting you to do it at scoops".
"Vacuuming is better" he mumbles into his pillow.
Robin is warm behind his back, holding him steady, and he finds himself reaching for her hand draped over his chest. The easy affection soothes the remaining burn in his heart.
"I smashed a plate," Steve says so softly he can feel Robin even shuffle closer to hear him. 
She's quiet a moment, but she doesn't move away. If anything, Robin seems to drape herself over his shoulder even more, wrapping him up in a cocoon of warmth. Steve swallows roughly and turns his face further into the pillows. 
"Nothing like a good plate smash," she mumbles sagely into his ear, "I think I read that in a magazine once, buy cheap dishes so you got something to smash when things just get too much," she pauses to sit up and turn him over to face her, "or maybe it was pencils".
Steve snorts as she mimes a violent snapping motion with her hands, and finally let's himself look at her. 
Robin's smiles as his eyes meet her own, but there's still a flicker of worry behind her blue ones that she can't seem to hide. 
And she isn't the only one who is worried.
This wouldn't be the first time he's acted out because of his anger. Steve would be the first person to admit he has a history of impulsive behavior, throwing himself fist first into situations before he can properly think it through. 
He says things in the moment he regrets later. Hell, Steve vandalized private property because he was angry with Nancy for christ sakes.
But this was different, it felt different. This scared him. It was like he had taken a backseat for a moment, disengaged from the world and came back to himself surrounded by shattered ceramic and a deep feeling of shame. 
He wonders, belatedly, if this is how his father felt when he would break things, when he would scream at Steve until he was red faced and shaking, when he would slam doors and smash the flat palm of his hand into walls or dragging his heavy class ring over the previously unblemished wood surface of his grandmother's table. 
It's terrifying to think about.
"You want me to stay?" Robin whispers after a beat.
Steve breathes out sharply through his nose, "I'm sure your parents would love that," he wiggles his eyebrows and attempts a lecherous wink, laughing at the squawk Robin makes.
She grabs one of the pillows and catches him with a face full of cotton batting, "Hey, for a fake boyfriend I could do worse you perv".
It starts an all out war, Steve lets her get him into a headlock before he licks all the way up the offending arm holding him in place, she lets go with a cry of, 'Gross!' and swings the pillow into his face again.
By the end of it they're both laughing so hard they can't even sit up.
"Robin," Steve says softly. 
They're laying on the bed, Steve with his head on the pillow by the headboard and Robin laying with her head closest to the end. She nudges his ear with her toe and he jerks away with a squawk.
"Yeah?" Robin groans as she slides her elbows towards her head to prop her torso up to look at him.
He lets his eyes trace over her, this girl who can make him laugh no matter what, who seems to read his mind with little to no trouble, who is ready to loudly defend him whenever possible.
He loves her so much.
Steve shakes his head, a prickly static charge builds in his hair as it rubs against the pillow, "just, you're just the best person I know," he says eventually, "don't tell Dustin I said that, but I'm glad I met you".
Robin mimes pulling a zipper closed over her mouth and flicks away the metal pull. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are suspiciously shiny at the tender admission.
"You absolute goof, do you keep onions under your bed," she snarks after wiping her eyes with her hand, she takes her wet fingers and wipes them off on his pajamas. 
"I'm glad I met you too, and if you want to talk about," she half shrugs and tips her head towards his bedroom door, "you know, the plate thing, I'm here".
She reaches for his ankle resting next to her elbow and gives it a squeeze, "God, all the hair on your legs, it looks like you have a second set of pants on".
"Can't even be nice to me for longer than five minutes," Steve mutters as he steals the offending leg to sit up on the bed.
"I didn't bring anything," Robin says suddenly, looking over at the glaring red numbers on Steve's alarm clock on his side table, "what's a gal gotta do for some food and some pj's?"
Steve rolls his eyes and uncrosses his legs and throws them over the side of the bed, sitting up while he's at it, "you figured out a Russian spy code with your little genius ears but you couldn't snag a change of clothes before you left?"
"Hey, you called me, I came running," Robin tells him firmly, she sits up and scooches over to sit beside him with her legs draped over the edge and their thighs pressed together.
"I know Bobby, I knew you would," he says softly as she leans her head to rest on his shoulder, the weight at his side is warm and familiar and pulls a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Steve lets his head loll to the side to rest on Robin's, his limbs loose as a tension he hadn't realized had been trapped in his shoulders flows out of him.
***
Over the next few weeks things begin to ease back into some semblance of normal.
It's not easy.
Steve ends up having to trick the kids into going to the old ice cream parlor where Eddie is waiting for them to make a separate apology for their last Hellfire meeting. 
Steve insists they're fine to the four sets of  disbelieving eyes that scowl at both of them, he and Eddie have buried the hack-saw and there's nothing more to say.
"It's hatchet, Steve," Dustin says with exasperation and barely concealed glee, “you buried the hatchet, sometimes I think you say these things on purpose".
"Oh Dusy-bun," Steve hums, reaching out to catch Dustin with his arm and drag him into a loose headlock, "I absolutely do it on purpose".
It's a little awkward, Will still seems a bit wary of Eddie, but Mike, Dustin, and Lucas obviously missed their Dungeon Master.
Steve can't help the clawing guilt that sits heavy in his stomach from being at the center of their little fight, but a small irritable part of him is envious of how quickly they all fall back into step with one another without missing a beat.
"This place is alright," Lucas says once they've all settled into a hideous lime green booth with their treats, "but the butterscotch is shit compared to Scoops".
He's frowning at the half eaten cup in his hands like he's tempted to toss it right then and there.
"Ice cream is ice cream," Mike scoffs with a roll of his eyes, he reaches for the cup which Lucas snatches back just out of reach from grabby fingers.
"Hey, I never said I wouldn't finish it--"
"You're practically giving it away dude, come on!" 
Eddie smiles and seems to finally relax into his seat, he leans across the table closer to Steve and Dustin and whispers conspiratorially, "What the hell is scoops?"
"Remember Starcourt?" Dustin chirps around a mouthful of Rocky Road before Steve can say anything, "Steve worked there, and Robin, that's how they met". 
Eddie tilts his head and frowns, his eyes pan back and forth between Dustin and Steve, "the mall that burnt down?"
Steve tenses, his right hand curls into a fist beneath the table while the little wooden spoon in his left hand threatens to snap between his fingers resting on the sticky table top.
Eddie glances at him curiously before looking back to Dustin who continues to speak, oblivious to the strangers around them.
"Oh yeah, that wasn't a fire--"
"Dustin," Steve snaps, more loudly and harshly than he intends, but it catches the teens attention. Steve shakes his head once and gestures around the shop, they're one of three full tables of people but even still, their voices have been carrying all afternoon.
Dustin has the good graces to look sheepish before scowling at the ice cream in his hands, "no one's listening--"
"Not here--" Steve manages to spit out between his teeth before all four kids are arguing at the top of their voices.
"Don't yell at Dustin!" 
"No one's even in here!"
"What, we can't even talk about this with each other now?"
"Fuck off Steve--"
Steve almost laughs, it's the first time in two weeks the kids have acted like their old selves instead of walking on eggshells around him, weighing their words carefully, avoiding bringing up Eddie or Hellfire and trailing off when he enters a room.
"Hey," Eddie says sharply, "layoff your babysitter alright, Jesus Christ guys".
And suddenly the spell is broken.
Lucas slowly puts down his cup and Mike rolls his eyes but seems to deflate in his seat, leaning into Will who frowns at Eddie slightly. Dustin crosses his arms across his chest and glares with a mutinous expression at the table. 
Dammit.
"Okay, everyone relax, finish up and let's go," Steve sighs. He reaches over and tugs on Dustin's ever present cap with his right hand while the left hand, still holding his spoon, snags a little taste of Lucas's cup of butterscotch. 
All of the kids start yelling again, but this time laughter rings out as the earlier tension melts away. 
Steve looks at Eddie who smiles widely at him, relief evident in his big brown eyes; he can't stop the small grin that takes over his own face at the sight, even if it does make his chest ache. 
They leave shortly after, the kids prattle on about some sci-fi movie that's caught their eye for the next trip to the Hawk Theater. Dustin argues that sequels never hold up while Will insists that as long as there are Aliens, as the title suggests, it should be just as good as the first.
Steve and Eddie follow just behind the group, Eddie slows down to walk in step with Steve. 
"Sooo that was a little…intense," Eddie says, it's phrased more like a question and the way he's looking at Steve, like he's waiting for an answer for why the air in the ice cream place seemed to shift. He reaches for Steve's elbow with soft fingers that curl around and press into his denim jacket. 
The kids have already piled into the beamer, Lucas snags the front seat since it's his turn --much to the irritation of Mike who 'never gets front seat dibs!'
Eddie swings in front of Steve slightly, letting his hand maintain contact at Steve's elbow, grounding them both.
Eddie's eyes narrow, just enough that Steve catches it, "You just…seem a little on edge or something".
Steve shugs and carefully pulls on a small neutral grin. It's comfortable, he's worn it before.
"Yeah man," he looks away from Eddie's concerned gaze, "it's all good, I'll see you later alright?
He keeps the tone bright. It's not his customer service voice, this is something he's carefully honed over years of sports injuries, smiling at teachers as they scolded him, or lying through his teeth to his dad after a particularly nasty screaming session.
It's light, and something he's never had to break out with Robin.
A small part of Steve was hoping he'd never have to use it on Eddie, but here they were.
"I gotta get the kids back anyway," it's not quite a lie but it's only three in the afternoon, and the words only seem to push Eddie a little further as his fingers curl more firmly around Steve's elbow.
"Steve," Eddie says again, but Steve is already pulling himself out of Eddie's grip, his hand falls away to hang limply at his side, silver rings glinting in the midafternoon sun.
Steve waves and makes his way to the driver's side door, ignoring the way Eddie's eyes follow him and the downward curve of his mouth.
He opens the car door and lets it shut, allowing the chaos of noise and teenage yelling drown out the guilt that followed him into the car.
"So," Dustin says from the back as Steve buckles himself in,"are you sure you guys are good?" 
Steve pauses for just a second before he blinks and puts the key in the ignition, "yeah, 'course man, why wouldn't we be?" 
Dustin is quiet for a moment, all of the kids are. 
There is a strange, somber heaviness in the vehicle as Steve makes his way down mainstreet. 
Mike seems off in his own stormy little world, glaring at the hands in his lap while Will looks out the window with a sad frown. Steve feel's Dustin and now Lucas watching him, their gaze enough to make him itch. 
"You guys just seem different," Dustin insists, he crosses his arms over his seatbelt and leans back into his seat. 
"You guys don't touch like you used to," Lucas says matter of factly.
Dustin snaps his fingers and leans forward once more to grab the back of Lucas's seat, "that's what it is! It's been driving me crazy!"
A dull ache throbs in Steve's chest as the kids continue to talk over one another, the volume gradually rising in the small space.
"Okay, first of all, I will crash this car if you all keep yelling," Steve barks over the four incessant voices, "Jesus, second of all, we don't touch each other--"
"Yes you do!"
"Um, have you met yourselves?"
"Jesus, it's like you're a pair of Octopuses!"
"If you're both sooo good why didn't you guys hug goodbye like you used to?"
"Enough," Steve says sharply, he signals right and slowly pulls off to the side of the road, letting the crackle of gravel fill the now silent vehicle. Steve grips the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles have faded to white to hide the shaking of his hands.
"Look," Steve sighs, he lifts one hand away from the steering wheel to scrub harshly over his face. It catches on the hint of stubble on his cheeks.
"I appreciate you guys looking out for me, but I am an adult, and I can take care of myself".
"What about when Max saved you from Billy?" Mike scoffs, he ignores the elbow that Will throws into his side. 
"Or when Erica and I had to rescue you and Robin from the Russians?" Dustin challenges with equal ferocity. 
"That was different," Steve says with a scowl and a roll of his eyes, "I only got into those situations because I was looking out for you shitheads--"
"Exactly!!" Dustin crows with a smirk.
"Us shitheads stick together!" He raises his eyebrow like he's already won the argument and crosses his arms over his chest. 
Steve sighs and lets his head tip back into the headrest, he looks into the rear view mirror at the three sets of eyes staring back at him before tipping his face to the side to see Lucas's unwavering gaze from the passenger seat. 
"If I promise you guys that everything is fine for now, you'll drop it?"
The kids are quiet for a moment before Will says, "Party meeting, plug your ears Steve".
Steve considers just putting the car back into drive and continuing on their way, ignoring the ridiculous request. 
But it's Will, and the youngest Buyers has finally realized his ability to weaponize his big hazel eyes and bowl cut to get whatever he wants.
"How is this my life," Steve mutters under his breath but does as he's asked. 
He raises his hands to cup over his ears, muting the following low chatter around him. Steve hums a few bars of Dancing in the Dark to make whatever they're saying even more indistinguishable, because he's a damn good babysitter, before Lucas taps his elbow.
Steve shifts in the driver's seat, turning so he can see all of the beaming faces staring back at him. He feels his eyes narrow in suspicion.
"We'll drop it," Dustin tells him with a smile that doesn't waver once as he looks over to Lucas and then Will, Mike rolls his eyes though the smallest of grins tugs at the corner of his lips.
"If you agree to host Hellfire again," Lucas says with a sly smile, holding his hand out with wiggling fingers for Will to match the corresponding move with his own confident hand. 
"Guys…"
"Come on Steve, you've got the best place for it and we'll make sure you have a good time!" Dustin leans across Mike who huffs and pushes him away, it doesn’t stop Dustin from clasping Steve’s driver's seat with his hands and squeezing the leather by Steve’s shoulder.
Steve holds in a scoff, doubting that they can really guarantee such a thing, especially if Eddie and the other Hellfire members will be there, but the kids are all doing their best impression of the youngest Wheeler, Holly, when she begs for piggyback rides.
"Fine," Steve huffs out, he feels a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth as the kids cheer. 
"Yeah, yeah, if you really want to make me happy, one of you should learn to fuckin' drive".
Taglist: @zerokrox-blog @samcoxramblings @thosemessyvibes @liketheocean @vampireinthesun @themostunoriginalpersonever @merricatty @hyperfixationgoddess @hippieg1rl420
And thank you to @flowercrowngods for your encouragement, I hope the stobin fluff makes up for this not being finished yet!
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sincerely-sofie · 9 months
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*gently places angsty Twig comic in your hands*
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There comes a point in healing, sometimes, where you must grieve the child you never got to be, and bury her along with the desperate hope of one day somehow becoming her.
It isn’t fair. And it never will be.
But you grieve the child, still.
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httpiastri · 4 months
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happy bday paul <3
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valdeswan · 4 months
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36 year old KRS taking all his savings and buying a farm in a town in the middle of nowhere.
His line of work was a dangerous one, being a bodyguard for high-profile clients
After a job where KRS was blinded in one eye, he took the compensation money and his savings and quit.
His idea was to buy a small, nice house in a town far from the city. But LSH and CJS convinced him that he should buy a couple of acres and make it a farm. Their argument was something about how he should keep himself busy with something to avoid getting into trouble.
Bullshit. If you ask him. But they made him promise that after a three-hour session of them yapping, he only managed to convince them to buy something smaller. There is still a lot of space for only one person (for now)
They made him promise that once they retire, he would give them a room at the farm. KRS sometimes wonders why they tend to ask obvious questions.
The land was acquired at a low price due to its condition: weeds everywhere, rocks, and a two-story old wooden house with leaks.
He wouldn't have bought it if it weren't for the fact that the previous owner had told him he had completely redone the plumbing and wiring a few years earlier.
The only thing Roksoo carried with him when he arrived at his new residence was a bag with clothes and another with his few precious belongings: books, a coffee machine that his coworkers gave him for his birthday, and his pillow.
The moment he set foot on his new property, Roksoo kind of regretted it all because of the work the property needed. He was aware of the condition of the house when he moved in, but for some reason he thought it would be easy. Never again.
He blames LSH and CJS for putting ideas in his head about moving to a farm; this wasn't his idea about living like a slacker. He could do nothing but sigh and enter the house.
The first step creaked as he walked on it; he avoided stepping on the second one, which was obviously rotten. The board on the third and final step creaked and broke. KRS cursed and fell into the hole. He had scratches all over his calf when he managed to get his leg out of the hole.
KRS wondered if he should have been less stingy when it came to shelling out money to buy the property. It's not like he couldn't afford it; he wasn't as rich as he would have liked to be, but he wasn't lacking either.
There was nothing he could do now, so he simply sighed again and opened the creaking door. A cloud of dust made him cough and step back.
KRS mentally thanks the previous owner, who was kind enough to leave him his old tools in the shed. He left his bags on the floor and went to look for a broom to clean the interior to make it minimally habitable for the night.
Sexy Ahjussy activities. Imagine a tall, buff, black-haired middle-aged man with an eye scar🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅
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pentacass · 1 month
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"We could start [your private dejarik lessons] now, if you like. After a drink, perhaps?"
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stabbyfoxandrew · 11 days
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you know what's fucking insane though???
it's only been 3 days in the mafia front fic. THREE DAYS= ~34k. (so far, we're still on day three rn)
wow i'm truly insane. three days... mein gott
(potential spoilers for this fic in tags???)
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aeoneris · 4 months
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pleased to inform i finished village quests in MHGU (still need to do hub and eventually get to G rank). had a much better appreciation of it this time around than the first time i played it back on the 3DS. so much so that i decided the logical next step in setsuna's adventure is to tour bherna and the other villages, lending their aid wherever a hunter is needed. also utsushi is there in their pocket at all times, no i will not elaborate
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rainbowpufflez · 2 months
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“If I could go back, one thing I would do / Try to unravel, cut down, and unscrew / The first double helix that links me to you”
Wow, get a load of these guys. What’s wrong with them?
Also song inspo if anyone would like it! It’s where the top quote is from!
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ratwithhands · 2 months
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I'm curious. I've seen your art and something that's come to my mind is what actually got you attached with the Subway brothers. Your narrative on their different AU forms is so unique which is what brought me to that question
Alright, rat history time.
So basically back in 2021-2022, I was working on an old OC storyline (about 3 years old by then) and I was in grade 9 so I was like “A new Pokémon game? Pfft, like I care” and just didn’t watch any of the stuff related to PLA when it dropped. I still got recommended Twitter posts about it on Instagram and I ended up seeing this one.
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I tried looking up Ingo cause I was like "oh, funky design, looks like a captain or something" but I didn't end up finding anything so I didn't press further. Anyways in March break of 2022, I got bored and decided to put some game streams on in the background while I drew. I saw Alpharad's PLA video and decided to watch it for a bit when I saw Ingo.
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I was like "Hey you're the guy from Twitter!" and since I knew his name now, I looked him up and found his Bulbapedia article. I found him much more interesting than the rest of the PLA cast since he had history outside PLA, and I ended up reading up whatever I could find on him. I also by extension discovered Emmet this way, which only served to suck me deeper down the rabbit hole. By the end of March break I had a fan OC and 2 AUs made with more on the way, as well as a YouTube recommended page with nothing but theory videos on Ingo and decade old Submas content.
Around May I decided to decommission my OC storyline for personal reasons, and by this point Submas was starting to occupy more of my creative work anyways. Since I didn't have my storyline to put my energy into, I started funnelling literally any story ideas into Submas. This led to nonstop content for a shockingly long time, and ofc I'm still coming up with stuff now.
Long story short, I got attached to them by accident! It was a "right place, right time" sort of thing since they came in as I was starting to get sluggish with my original content and I ended up being more interested in writing for them.
As for narratives, I am effectively playing dolls with these guys. Usually the kind of stuff that I write for them is meant for OCs, but I dumped the 60+ person cast so I put that energy into them instead.
Most AUs will either have a core theme, an out of pocket idea, or both to make things interesting. Usually I just come up with a dumbass idea like "what if we brought ReBURST back for a rerun" or "what if Emmet signed a contract with an eldritch space spider" or "what if Submas could see into the future" and stuff like that, then it picks up themes as I keep writing. For some silly examples:
Burst is based on Pokémon ReBURST and the idea of human-Pokémon fusion, but there's focus on skill, how characters misperceive it, and resentment as a result. There's also a spotlight on inferiority complexes, bottled up guilt, and blind confidence depending on which main character you look at
Journal is about a diary that helps Ingo to regain his memories, and it focuses on remembrance and regret as a result of him reading it. Spotlight on lacking awareness vs hyper awareness and the monotony of living as people around you leave
Oracle is exactly what it sounds like, with the twins being able to see into the future. It focuses on cooperation and the importance of working together, but also learning how to work alone. The spotlight's on jealousy and gratitude for this one, though the latter greatly outweighs the former in this case
I also just have AUs I made to try deranged shit for funsies, like Sapioflora, Cybernetic/Z-Λ, Team Supernova, and Idol. Those are mostly for exploring goofy ideas that may or may not go anywhere.
Right anyways basically I just saw Submas after watching PLA gameplay and found the twins more interesting to write about than the project I'd exhausted by then. The narratives are like that because the AU ideas I make are actually OC concepts that I modify to fit Pokémon specifically for these two or ideas about the two that I'd like to explore. Hope that answers the question ^^*
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afewproblems · 1 year
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Part Four: Final Part Four Mean!Eddie Misunderstandings Au
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Read in full on Ao3
Thank you to everyone that cheered me on @samcoxramblings for your kind words on every post! @flowercrowngods and @barbariansteves for your helpful advice and @zerokrox-blog for your original prompt waaaaay back in February, I'm sorry this took so long but I hope you finally get the comfort you wished for!
***
The kids demand two weeks to prepare for their Hellfire session, insisting that they need this time to debrief Eddie and come up with their game plan, which is fine by Steve.
It also gives him two weeks to decompress from his last interaction with the kid's Dungeon Master, and time to try and untangle exactly how he feels about the whole situation. 
It was nice for things to start moving back towards something resembling normal. The kids seemed happier, even going so far as to begin splitting their time between Eddie and Steve once again. Asking for rides to the hobby shop in Indi from their resident metal-head rather than Steve. It was nice to finally have a little bit more time to himself again.
Even Robin, who had previously been steadfast in her Anti-Eddie stance, had suddenly grown rather tight-lipped about the whole thing.
She had even offered to accompany Steve on his errands for the day they scheduled their Hellfire meeting, citing that she was always up for a grocery run and he may need help bringing everything in.
Which, in hindsight, should have been Steve’s first clue that something strange was going on. 
“So, you ready?” Robin hums as they walk up and down the canned food aisle of Marsh Market, “you can still back out you know?”
Steve smiles and grabs a box of onion soup mix, he’s fairly certain he has some sour cream at home to make a dip of some sort, much easier than the last snack he tried to prepare for the group. 
“Yeah, Robs, I know, I think it should be fine,” he crosses off the soup mix on his list and turns the cart around the empty aisle to head towards the produce section, “the kids are already setting up now so the only thing I need to do is be there,” he shrugs and stops in front of the humming displays. 
Steve waits until the misting stops before reaching for a bag of mini carrots and tossing them into the cart. 
“Can’t believe you trust Henderson to have a key, I can’t believe you hold us at the same level of trust!” Robin grumbles under her breath as she picks up a granny smith from one of the bins and rubs it on the rolled up sleeves of her navy blazer; it’s just slightly too big for her, most likely stolen from her dad’s closet. 
Steve rolls his eyes and continues pushing the cart around the produce area, "careful Birdy, you roll those up anymore you're actually going to turn into Don Johnson". 
"I should be so lucky," she snarks back as she catches up to him by the celery.
She tosses the apple back and forth between her hands, nearly dropping it twice before placing the produce into the cart under Steve’s unimpressed gaze. 
She starts snapping her fingers and shuffling her feet as they continue walking up and down the aisles, going through their list bit by bit. Steve finds himself watching his friend’s nervous fidgeting with curious eyes, it was just a grocery trip, there shouldn’t be anything to really make her act like this, right?
He takes a quick glance around at some of the employees stocking the aisles, in case Vickie or some other pretty classmate of Robin’s is wandering around. 
But, they’re alone.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Robin asks, as Steve folds up the list and turns the cart towards the check out tills.  
She tips the small watch she’s wearing up to her face, her eyes flit back and forth between Steve and the watch as she chews on her bottom lip, which is more than a little odd.
The kids are already at the house and Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang won’t be arriving for at least another hour, they have plenty of time?
Robin steps away from the cart and throws her thumb over her shoulder at the chip aisle, “you do realize that you’re going to have like ten teenagers at your house right? You think veggies and dip is enough?”
“I’m ordering pizza later, I think this is fine?” Steve says slowly, gesturing at the cart, confusion and suspicion saturate his words as his eyes narrow at his friend. 
“Robin,” Steve murmurs, walking the cart closer towards her, “what's going on?”
“Nothing, why would you --nothing!” She stutters as her freckled face pales slightly. 
Steve smirks, Robin is probably the worst liar he’s ever met, and it's always endearing whenever she tries. 
The last time she had lied to Steve, it had been about the mascara wand she had dropped onto the passenger seat, staining the leather just slightly, and smearing the black makeup all over the floor covers. 
Robin had panicked and insisted that had been there before she had sat down.
Steve had been sitting in the car with her at the time.
He knew a Robin lie when he saw it, but he also knew it wouldn’t take long for her to crack. 
“Okay!”
There it is.
“Listen,” Robin hisses sharply, she steps closer until she’s nearly whispering in his ear in the empty chip aisle, “I’m stalling you okay?”
“Probably not something you should be telling the person you’re stalling but okay?” Steve snorts as he leans onto the cart handle, “also, this was the worst place to go to stall us, it's two in the afternoon on a Wednesday, no one else is here”.
“I know!” Robin groans, letting her face fall into her open hands, she slowly lifts her face once more and lets her fingers drag across her forehead and cheeks, pulling at the skin, “I should have said no, I wanted to say no, but they used Will--”
Steve nods, “and you can’t say no to Will, yeah I gotcha”.
The words register after a beat.
“Wait, backup, the kids put you up to this? The unsupervised shitheads in my house right now?”
Robin nods, her blue eyes wide and the barest of smirks still covered by her hands.
“Oh christ,” Steve mutters under his breath, “do I even want to know?”
Robin drops her hands away from her face and scowls for a second before sighing, “I would absolutely love to tell you,” she shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling, “better yet, I’d love to just take you to Indi for the day, forget about this completely, but those God Damn kids know exactly what to say,” she looks at him once more in barely concealed exasperation, “how do they always know what to say?”
“How angry do I need to be, on a scale of like one to ten?” 
Robin stares at him consideringly, her eyes scanning his face, “I mean, if I were you, it would be at like, a hundred,” she says eventually, “but since it’s you?”
“Maybe a four”.
Steve nods and drums his hands on the cart handles, blowing out a long slow breath as he makes his decision, “how much more time do they need?”
Robin looks at her watch again and smiles this time, “Well this bought them another five-ish minutes, so maybe another half hour?”
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a crumpled five dollar bill, “come on, I’ll getcha a coffee or something?”
“Wait, do I even need these snacks? Robin?”
Robin was wrong, this at least warranted a five for the groceries alone. 
***
The drive back is uneventful, Steve did end up going though check out, rationalizing that, no matter what, he needed some veggies for the rest of the week so there were worse things he could have spent the money on. 
Robin had bought him a coffee from the gas station down the road. There wasn't enough creamer in the world to make that palatable so he leaves it in the cup holder while driving back. Even with a hot chocolate Robin hasn't fared much better. 
"Okay, well that's the worst five dollars ever spent," she groans after taking a sip. Robin wrinkles her nose and sets the cup in the other empty holder beside Steve’s before sneaking a quick look at her watch once more, “worth it though,” she says with a small smile.
It slides off her face after a moment when she realizes that they’ve turned down her street, “Steve?”
He looks between her and the road, tilting his head as she touches his elbow gently. 
“You can just come over you know, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to and that includes letting people force you to--” Robin snaps her mouth shut with an audible click of her teeth. 
She shakes her head and takes her hand back, “sorry, I promised not to say anything”.
Steve pulls over onto the Buckley’s driveway and finally turns to face Robin as much as the driver's seat will allow. 
“Still sure about this whole thing only warranting a four?” he asks softly as a bubble of anxiety begins to expand from his stomach and into his chest, as though he’s absorbed her nervous energy over the course of the afternoon.
Robin shrugs, “I don’t know, but,” her blue eyes bounce back and forth between his own, “just don’t let them make you make a decision you’re not ready for,” she chews her lip again, “no one gets to push you around but me”.
Steve laughs as Robin leans out of her seat to give him a quick, but firm, hug before she opens the door and steps outside. As soon as she’s out of the car, Steve wishes he had asked her to stay, to come with him and hold his hand through the unknown. The bereft, hollow feeling from before returns in full force as she walks up to her front door. 
She turns around and holds up her thumb and pinky as she lifts her hands to her face, mouthing, ‘Call me later,’ as she waves with her other hand. 
She stays outside as Steve slowly reverses, hesitating on the street for just a moment as Robin walks backwards the rest of the way to her door, she moves her hands, motioning for him to get going. 
Steve nods once and takes a deep breath as he shifts into drive and heads down the street.
It’s just the kids, he tells himself, how bad can it be?
***
By the time Steve pulls into his driveway, he’s nearly turned around to retrieve Robin and insist that she come with him at least five times. Even now as he pulls the emergency brake for the slight incline of the Harrington driveway, he considers starting the car again and leaving. 
The last time he felt this anxious to be home was after graduation, after he’d been rejected from every school he’d applied to and knew there was no getting around that conversation with his dad. 
That conversation had ended with the crack in the table, a hastily completed Scoops application, and his parents leaving for three months. 
If it hadn’t happened he wouldn’t have met Robin, so at least there had been a silver lining on that occasion. 
He’s not sure if there will be one this time.
Steve gets out of the car before opening the back door to grab the paper grocery bag from the store, he leaves the full coffee and hot chocolate cups with a grimace and makes a mental note to throw them out later before locking the car door. 
Steve slowly makes his way to the steps, balancing the bag on his hip as he rifles through his pants pocket for his house key. 
He looks around the street and spots Eddie’s van parked a few houses down. Great.
Steve knew that Eddie and the others would be showing up around now, even before Robin went ahead and spilled the beans about whatever it was the kids were secretly doing, but he had still hoped for a moment to just breathe before he had to face the inevitable.
Steve takes a deep breath and grabs the door handle, scoffing as it opens immediately. He makes a second mental note to scold Dustin for leaving the door unlocked for just anyone to come in --especially since the rest of Hellfire was already here apparently.
“Hey assholes, the snacks are here,” Steve calls out as he steps over the threshold, tossing his own keys into the dish on the side table. 
He kicks the door closed and locks the deadbolt with a roll of his eyes, “and I do include myself with that statement,” he adds under his breath with a smirk.
Steve slides off his shoes and pauses, looking around the foyer.
It’s quiet.
Where there is normally an abundance of yelling and laughter, of the kids arguing amongst themselves, or Eddie’s usual dramatic storytelling, there’s nothing. 
Steve walks into the kitchen and puts the bag onto the counter, “guys?” he calls out again, only to be met with silence. 
Steve makes his way into the dining room through the swing door and stops in his tracks.
The table is gone. 
“What the fuck?” he hears himself whisper as he walks into the middle of the space, nearly into the hanging light in the center of the room --he’d never noticed just how low it was, what with the table that was normally there to stop him from walking directly into it.
“What the fuck?” Steve hisses again, his heart starts to race as he steps around the light and spots the open sliding door to the backyard. 
“If you little fuckers decided to move my grandmother’s table when there is a perfectly good patio table out there, I swear to Christ--” 
But the kids aren’t outside either. 
Eddie freezes as Steve walks around the corner of the house, he’s standing next to the dining table with a piece of sandpaper in his hands.
“Steve,” Eddie squawks in surprise, quickly hiding the sandpaper behind his back, “hey!”
Steve’s not entirely sure just what he’s looking at as he takes another step further into the yard. Eddie’s normally black ripped jeans are covered in a fine layer of dust, his wild curls have been pulled back into a messy ponytail away from his face, and an open container of wood filler sits beside him on the concrete patio.
Steve takes another four steps until he’s close enough to touch the wooden surface, his mouth hanging open as he takes it all in. 
The surface of the table has been sanded down in its entirety, removing the beautiful deep cherry varnish, but the crack in the center has been mended, some kind of slightly darker putty has sealed the gaping wound that had marred the surface. 
“Can you,” Eddie’s voice shakes, drawing Steve’s attention once more, “can you please say something, I can’t tell if you’re mad or what?”
“You fixed it,” Steve whispers, his eyes fixed on the table, he reaches to run a shaking hand over the surface.
“Careful,” Eddie says softly, grabbing Steve’s hand before it can touch the center with long sure fingers, “that still needs about an hour or so to cure”.
Steve looks from the table to his hand, still cradled in Eddie’s own, before looking up to see two big brown eyes staring into his own. 
“I don’t understand,” the words come out in a whisper as Steve swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, “why?”
“Well,” Eddie murmurs as he squeezes Steve’s hand once before threading their fingers together and dragging Steve towards one of the pool loungers in the grass.
Eddie sits down and pulls Steve with him to sit, he feels a deep flush begin to wash over his neck and the tips of his ears, it's impossible to hide in the bright sunlight this time --not that he’d even be able to with Eddie’s firm grip on Steve’s hand.
“Those kids of yours are pretty genius,” Eddie says slowly, deliberately, his gaze never wavering from Steve’s face, “and they love you so fucking much man”.
Eddie clears his throat and rubs his thumb over Steve’s knuckles, “and there seems to be some confusion about how I actually feel about you, so allow me to uh, lay it all on the,” he gestures with his free hand towards the dining table and smirks, “well you know”.
Steve feels his heart leaping out of his chest, he can’t sit here, listen to this, he’s heard it before, it isn’t real.
Steve moves to stand up from the lounger but Eddie is faster as he manages to grab Steve’s other hand, holding him in place.
“Eddie--”
“You said no one had ever bothered before,” Eddie barrels on, speaking so quickly that Steve hardly understands at first. He squeezes Steve’s hands lightly again, the skin warmed metal from Eddie’s rings press into the palms of Steve’s hands.
“No one’s ever tried to fix it, have they?” Eddie breathes out as his eyes flit back and forth, searching Steve’s own, “would you let me try?”
For a moment, Steve lets himself just sit with the words. 
Lets himself indulge in the soft, almost reverent way that Eddie asks. He lets the warmth of Eddie’s hands tether him to something resembling hope.
Before he shakes his head.
“You don’t know what you’re saying Eddie,” Steve growls, but the words lack any true bite.
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Eddie insists, he gets up from beside Steve and kneels in the grass in front of him, “but I don’t think you do, I think we’ve been talking past each recently Steve, and it took speaking to a bunch of people --way smarter than me, to realize it. So here it is--”
“Don’t,” Steve shouts at the same time that Eddie whispers, “I like you,” and for a moment neither moves. 
Steve slowly takes his hands out of Eddie's now slack grip. 
He lowers one hand down to the edge of the pool lounger, gripping it so harshly that his knuckles slowly fade to white, while the other he brings up to cover Eddie’s mouth.
“Don’t say something you can’t take back,” Steve says softly. 
Eddie just stares for a beat, his forehead pinched in a terrible frown, before he reaches up to cup Steve’s cheek and gently removes the hand covering his mouth. He smiles softly and lets his thumb gently run over the crest of Steve’s cheekbone.
“Good thing I don’t want to take it back,” Eddie insists, he slides the hand on Steve’s cheek down to hold his chin firmly between two fingers.
“Steve,” Eddie lifts himself up so he’s balancing on the balls of his feet, just high enough that they are at eye level now, “I spent a very long time holding onto things that weren’t even remotely true, and they made me act like an asshole, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that sweetheart”.
“What if you change your mind, what if I--”
“Steve, what the fuck could you do at this point that would shock me?" Eddie says with a derisive laugh, he lets go of Steve's face to press his hand briefly to his own chest. 
"I’m a drug dealing, satan worshiping, murderer who almost ate it in another dimension from killer demon bats".
Eddie grins as he peppers his speech with air quotes but the edges of it are jagged, and the good humour doesn't quite reach his eyes.
Steve breathes out sharply through his nose and shakes his head, “I get angry sometimes, I say things I don't mean, I…" 
He sees himself surrounded by ceramic shards again, crying as he sweeps up his own mess, and shudders.
It's enough for Eddie to nod, and shuffle closer still.
"Pot," Eddie says softly as he pokes Steve in the sternum with this pointer finger and then brings it around to point at his own face, "kettle". 
Steve chews his bottom lip as his thoughts swirl together and fly apart, disjointed and frenetic, "I just," he swallows around a harsh lump that begins to form in his throat, "I don't want you to think that I'm something that I'm not”.
Steve closes his eyes, missing the way that Eddie freezes at the words, but he can’t stop now --he has to get this all out or he’ll never be able to.
"That I've changed, that I'm this thing you've built up, for your sake, because let me tell you, it's pretty heartbreaking when everything you hoped was real turns out to be all in your head".
Steve opens his eyes as Eddie makes a sound like he’s been punched in the gut. 
He’s still kneeling in front of Steve, even closer now, almost close enough that Steve can count the light dusting of freckles on his nose, and it feels like his heart will burst at any moment. 
Fuck it.
"I've been halfway in love with you since you woke up from the hospital," Steve blurts out, “only to find out that you didn't feel even remotely the same about me, this whole time,” he breathes in shallowly as Eddie pales.
"I don't think I could take it if that happened again Eds,” Steve continues as he drops his gaze to his knees, “I think it would crush me".
"That's why I don't want you to say something you can't take--"
The words die on his lips as Eddie grabs his face and kisses him.
It’s harsh and clumsy, their teeth clack as Eddie loses his balance, pushing himself into Steve. They fall over the lounger, Steve’s shoulders and lower back hit the metal  frame hard, forcing a muffled groan out as Eddie falls on top of him with his own faint, ‘oof’.
Eddie tries to raise himself up by his hands before falling even further as one of his hands slips through the rubber slats of the chair and he crashes into Steve's stomach.
Eddie babbles a string of incomprehensible apologies as he frees his trapped hand and manages to gently straddle Steve. Eddie hovers over him and lifts his hands to cup Steve's face.
“Shit baby, are you okay? Fuck, that’s not how I wanted that to go at all, I’m so shit at this”. 
“Can we, can you get off and then we can get off the stupid chair?” Steve wheezes as he tries to catch his breath and shift his weight away from the metal still pressed into his back, “lets go inside, we can..talk about this”.
Eddie curses under his breath, his expression nervous, and moves his legs off of Steve and the chair before holding a hand out to help Steve to his feet.
Steve rubs his back as he leads the pair back inside through the sliding glass door, not daring to turn around and face Eddie. 
He feels his own mortified flush spread across his chest and neck and winces; this is probably the most he’s blushed in years all in the span of a single afternoon.
He kissed me, he kissed me, he kissed me, plays on a seemingly endless loop in Steve’s head as he walks into the house, he can’t help the wide smile that blooms over his face --despite the other, darker thought that whispers in his ear, be careful, be careful, be careful.
Steve takes them through the empty dining room and into the living room before dropping onto the couch with another low groan. He looks up as he realizes that Eddie is no longer beside him.
Eddie stands in the entryway to the living room, he’s holding a thick handful of hair over his mouth and watching Steve carefully.
“Can’t talk with you all the way over there,” Steve huffs. 
He tries for a smile but the effect is lost as Eddie continues to stand and stare at him, looking as though he could bolt from the house at any moment.
“Please come here Eds,” Steve tries again, his voice small. He takes a deep breath, if Eddie can be brave so can you, he thinks as he holds out his hand.
Eddie hesitates for just a moment more, his eyes flick beyond Steve to the hallway linked to the foyer and back, it’s so quick Steve nearly misses it. 
Still, he keeps his hand steady, holding it aloft.
Eventually Eddie takes a tentative step, then another, slowly moving forward until his fingers brush Steve’s own. He takes a seat next to Steve on the plush gray couch but doesn’t relax as Steve turns his body to face him. Eddie tenses even further as Steve gives his hand a gentle squeeze.
He opens his mouth to start but Eddie beats him to it.
“I’m so sorry Steve,” Eddie whispers, his voice strained and thin as he takes his hand back, “I just fucking attacked you? Jesus, I," he cuts himself off, whatever he had been about to say trapped behind the teeth that dig into his bottom lip.
"I mean," Steve mumbles, hating the hunched line of Eddie's shoulders, "I tell you I've been in love with you for months and you kiss me, that makes sense to me?"
"Stop doing that," Eddie bites out as he stands up, slapping his hands on his knees to launch himself away from the couch.
He paces the living room, not looking at Steve and getting progressively more agitated as he walks.
"I apologize and then you turn it around on yourself, why do you do that? Just let me apologize!"
Eddie halts suddenly as he straightens and faces Steve, it's as though a lightbulb has blinked on in the ether as Eddie speaks his next words slowly and carefully, "stop letting me off the hook Steve, be honest with me".
"I have been honest with you," Steve tries but Eddie shakes his head.
"Nope, you've told me some of your stuff today, but not why you keep downplaying everything, why you're not just telling me you're upset, it's like you're censoring the stuff you think I don't want to hear, come on”.
"My stuff," Steve mutters under his breath as a hot flicker of irritation licks at his ribcage.
"Yes," Eddie says, throwing his hands into his hair in frustration.
"Everybody censors themselves Eddie, you think I tell the kids everything? That I've told Robin everything?"
At this Eddie blanches, surprise etched over his forehead as his eyebrows climb into his wispy bangs.
"But Robin--"
"Knows enough, but not everything,"Steve scoffs as he crosses his arms over his stomach, "and she doesn't need to".
Robin may know his parents are hardly around, she may have formed her own opinions, assumptions about what she thinks is going on; but Steve has gotten very good at hiding these things -especially over the years. 
Pulling out the King Steve persona, make them laugh, make them mad, watch this hand while the other pulls the wool over their eyes. 
"Then tell me," Eddie says softly, but there is a challenge to his words. 
He shifts his stance slightly, putting more weight on his left leg as he cocks his hip out to the side, "shock me Harrington". 
Steve shifts on the couch, feeling pinned under Eddie's gaze, before swiping a tired hand over his face and dropping it into his lap.
"That crack in the table happened just before I graduated," Steve says softly, his head tipped down so the words tumble into his knees. 
He ignores the sharp intake of breath from Eddie, not daring to look up as he continues,  "my uh, my dad opened the rejection letter from Vincennes, that one had just been delivered that morning I think". 
Steve breathes out slowly and picks at a hangnail on his left thumb, he hasn't ever spoken about this to anyone, he's never really managed to talk about his home life growing up without side stepping things. 
There had been moments where Steve thinks Tommy and Carol might have had their suspicions, but they never asked and Steve wasn't in a position to talk about it.
"I think that was at the beginning of June, so, so his logical conclusion was to uh, go looking for the other letters, the ones I must have received already". 
Steve barks out a laugh, but the sound rings out hollow in the large living room, he startles slightly as the couch dips down next to him as Eddie sits, close enough that his knees are brushing Steve's own.
He doesn't say anything, but it's enough for Steve to breathe out and keep going.
"And he found them, my dad, in the shoebox I kept in the back of my closet". 
"I don't know why I had even kept them," Steve shakes his head, "I should have thrown them away".
Steve absently traces a faint white line across his temple, staring past his knees into the patterns of the ornate area rug, "I got home from school and he had the letters waiting for me". 
"He laid them all out on the dining table," Steve sweeps his hands out, setting the scene in his head, "like you see in those detective movies right? He just needed some string to connect them all to me". 
Steve shivers and closes his eyes, the words still echoing fresh in his mind, the hot spittle that hit his face as his father cornered him against the wall still makes him flinch if he thinks about it too hard.
"He asked when I was planning to tell him about the rejections, and I couldn't give him an answer," he reaches up and pinches his nose, just once, blinking a few times as he wills away the gathering moisture.
"I didn't raise you to be this way Steven, like some fucking ungrateful coward --look at me when I'm God Damn talking to you!" Richard seethes as he slams the flat of his palm into the center of the table, his Harvard class ring splitting the wood as it connects with a loud crack.
Richard doesn't look down, his hand slides to one of the letters, snatching it from the surface as he steps around the table, towards Steve, in three sure strides. He backs his son towards the wall, looming over Steve as he shoves the paper into his face in one hand while the other grips the collar of Steve's T-Shirt.
"What will people think, huh, our only son didn't get into college, Hagan got in for chrissakes," his dad shakes him once, forcing Steve's head to connect with the wall, "what am I supposed to tell people Steven, what are we going to tell your poor mother?" 
"I thought that Wheeler girl was supposed to be smart, tutor you or something," Richard scoffs as he finally lets go of Steve's shirt collar, "or did she finally come to her senses?"
Steve sneers before he can stop himself, "I didn't think you were even around enough to see that dad--"
The blow comes swiftly, catching him across the temple, his father's class ring comes out to play once again as a hot burst of pain blooms across the entire left side of his face from the backhand. 
"Don't you ever speak to me that way again, you want to be a big man Steven? Just see what happens". 
Steve blinks once, coming back to himself, "my dad, um, he has a problem with anger, with uh, expressing it I guess".
"But that isn't what this is about," Steve whispers, and this time he can't keep the wobble from his voice as he speaks.
"I'm afraid, I'm just like him, that I could do what he did if I got upset enough, and you," he breathes out sharply but the sounds more like a sob than anything else, "you want me to be honest?"
Steve finally lifts his eyes up to meet Eddie's own. Eddie, who looks as though he wants to melt into the floor, his shoulders tense and his own eyes seem suspiciously shiny as they stare back at Steve.
"Why couldn't you be honest with me, huh?" Steve whispers, "from the beginning?" 
A tear breaks the surface, tracing down Steve's cheek. He manages to catch it roughly with the back of his hand before reaching up to press the heels of both his hands into his eyes --as though the pressure could stop the building deluge he knows is inevitable.
"I was so angry with you when you told me that you hadn't meant what you said in the Upside Down," Steve manages to speak through the tightening of his throat as he drops his hands back down into his lap, "that I smashed a plate in my kitchen after you left, I don't, I don't know what happened". 
His breath quickens suddenly and every other word comes out as a gasp, "but it's like my worst fucking fears h-have come true and I don't, I don't know what to do, I don't, I--" 
"Oh sweetheart," Eddie says softly as he reaches for Steve, pulling him into his arms with gentle fingers, "oh, I gotcha".
Steve lets himself be moved, for his head to be tipped into the crook of Eddie's neck and his body tucked into Eddie's chest. 
Steve tries to slow down his breathing, to stop the shuddering of his chest as he fights the tears. 
"It's okay," Eddie tries but Steve shakes his head.
"It's not," he bites out, the words taper off into a whine, "it's not--"
"Okay, you're right, it's not," Eddie says so softly Steve nearly misses it.
"I'm so, so, sorry Steve," Eddie murmurs into Steve's hair, holding him tighter as Steve finally gives in and lets himself cry. 
He's not sure how long they sit for, eventually Steve feels a steady hand card through his hair while the other strokes down his arms, he feels the tension in his shoulders begin to melt away and the tears slow to a gentle trickle.
"I'm an idiot," Eddie huffs out, the breath flutters Steve's hair, making him twitch at the sensation.
Steve reaches up and wipes at his face with tired hands. The skin feels warm to the touch and puffy around his eyes and his nose which refuses to stop running, he must look like an absolute sight right now, he thinks to himself with a grimace.
"You're not an idiot," he manages to croak, but Eddie's already shaking his head sharply, turning himself to look at Steve.
"Oh believe me, I've fucked up before, pretty spectacularly, but this takes the goddamn cake sweetheart". 
"And you're right," Eddie says slowly, carefully, "I shouldn't be harping on about you hiding how you feel when I'm the reason why we're in this mess".
Eddie chews his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth before pulling away from Steve entirely as he reaches up to cup Steve's face between his hands.
"I'm sorry for not being honest with you Stevie, and I will spend every day trying to make it up to you if you let me?"
Steve looks at Eddie, really looks at him.
He takes in the drooped curve of his shoulders, the subtle pink of the tip of his nose and the glassy sheen in his brown eyes. The way his chest has stopped rising and he drops his hands away from Steve the longer he openly stares at the metal-head, the way Eddie anxiously spins and spins and spins the rings on his hands the longer he waits. 
It’s an easy decision to reach out and place his own hand on Eddies own, to halt the frantic movements with a gentle squeeze.
“So,” Steve says, grinning as Eddie finally looks up at him once more, "on a scale of helping to chauffeur the kids to finishing fixing the table, what kind of making it up to me are we talking about?"
The smile Eddie gives him is nearly blinding as he launches himself at Steve, gathering him up in his arms. His hair smells like sawdust and there's the barest hint of some kind of cologne that Steve can't place.
Eddie leans back into the couch cushions, laughingly wetly and taking Steve with him. The sound makes his chest ache as Steve realizes just how much he’s missed Eddie’s laughter. He buries his face in Eddie's neck as they cuddle into one another, letting themselves sit with nothing but the sound of the occasional car driving down the street outside or the humming of grasshoppers through the screen door to the backyard.
"For what it's worth," Eddie huffs, breaking the quiet, a hint of dimples revealing themselves as he smiles, "I've never met the guy, but from the sounds of it, you are the farthest thing from being like 'Ol Dick Harrington".
Steve says nothing but feels something in his chest finally unclench for the first time in weeks.
"Besides, there's nothing like a good plate smash every now and again Stevie," Eddie hums as he runs his thumb over the crest of Steve's cheekbone again.
"That's what Robin said," Steve mumbles, as he leans further into Eddie with a smile, "she came over that night, after". 
"A wise and terrifying woman," Eddie says sagely, "who I hope to never piss off again".
He stops suddenly and looks up at Steve, a nervous pinch to his brow as he plays with a loose curl hanging in front of his face, "I'm glad you guys have each other," Eddie says slowly, letting his thumb stroke Steve's hand absently, "that you have people in your corner and--”
Eddie swallows, his eyes darting back and forth between Steve's eyes as he finally seems to steel himself.
"I hope you'll let me be one of those people".
This nervous, quiet Eddie, is so strange to take in, but then again Steve's also never been on the receiving end of so many apologies all at once, it's just shy of being overwhelming at this point.
"Oh come off it Eddie," Steve huffs with a roll of his eyes, "you had me the moment I saw that fucking table outside and you tried to hide the sandpaper behind your back --real smooth by the way".
The way Eddie stares at him in surprise and that same look of awe from before, tells Steve that was the right thing to say.
Eddie barks out a wet laugh and squeezes him tighter, tipping his face to nuzzle Steve's ear, "I missed you teasing me".
"That was the worst part about all of this," he shudders once and drops his head to Steve's shoulder, "I thought I lost my friend, but I have you back".
"Yeah, you have me Eds," Steve says softly.
Steve rests against Eddie, uncaring that the position is growing more uncomfortable as the arm tucked closest to the metal-head falls asleep. Eddie holds him with such gentle reverence that Steve feels as though he may just burst from happiness at any moment. 
Everything he's wanted for months, has finally fallen into place.
It's quiet for another moment. Steve plays with one of Eddie's hands, running his fingers over the calluses from playing guitar and the eclectic rings decorating his knuckles.
Eddie clears his throat after a beat, swallowing once, “so uh, earlier….that wasn’t exactly how I pictured our first kiss you know?"
Steve feels a small grin slowly bloom, he's not quite facing Eddie the way they're sitting, so he can play coy a little longer.
 “You’ve pictured it huh?” 
Eddie snorts “Oh yeah, you have no idea, there’s usually more tongue involved and less chipped teeth”.
Steve nods, letting them sit for a moment longer, letting himself be chased for once.
Eddie pulls back slightly, leaving his arms loosely wrapped around Steve, “think we could uh, try again?”
“Will you mean it as much as you did the first time?” Steve says with a smile as he rubs his lip with his thumb and flushed cheeks.
“You liked that huh, always knew you were a freak like me Harrington,” Eddie barks out, his eyes shining with mirth as he leans closer to run the tip of his nose down Steve's before nuzzling them together, "wanna make some good memories in this house Stevie?"
“Only if you’re with me Eds,” Steve whispers against Eddie’s lips as he slowly leans in. 
Steve’s heart races, anticipation flooding his veins and filling his chest with a giddy realization that he finally, finally, gets to have this. 
That he knows Eddie finally, finally, feels the same way.
He’ll call Robin later, let her know about Hellfire’s plan, the apology, and maybe even the truth about everything he’d kept hidden away for so long. The old hurts soothed and the lid of the box in his mind permanently open now, the lid wrenched off its hinges so as to never close again. Maybe he could let people in, to let them know him. 
For now, Steve lets himself be lowered onto the couch, lets Eddie's hands roam freely, over Steve's shoulders, his neck --letting his fingers gently brush the long scar from the Demobat tail, before lifting one hand to cup his cheek while the other climbs into Steve hair, threading his fingers through it and giving the locks an experimental tug.
Steve's hands make their way up Eddie's back, under his shirt, tracing over the raised scars on his sides. Eddie shoots Steve a wicked grin, his eyes crinkle at the sides as he lets his weight gently fall over Steve, catching himself with his hands on the couch cushions on either side of Steve's face, effectively caging him in. 
Eddie moves slowly, deliberately, it's not nearly as brutal as the first time but Eddie kisses like a wildman starved, licking into Steve's mouth and grazing his bottom lip with harsh teeth. 
It feels like Steve is being consumed, slowly, carefully.
It's overwhelming in the best way. The feeling of his soft lips against Steve’s own, the harsh stubble that rubs against Steve’s chin. The smell of weed, and sawdust, and cologne invades his nose.
Eddie pulls back briefly before leaning down again to place a soft kiss against Steve’s lips.
“How's that for a second kiss?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and a wide smirk pulling at his slightly puffy lips.
Steve scoffs and tugs at Eddie’s shirt collar, “I dunno, maybe we need to check again?”
Eddie’s laughter rings out loud and long in the Harrington living room, as he leans down again and hugs Steve tightly.
For the first time in a long time, Steve feels himself relax. 
He lets the weight of Eddie press him into the cushions and releases a long contented breath, the Harrington house, finally feeling warmer than it has in a long time.
I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed working on it! This was the first fic of this length that I was still actively writing as I was updating that I've actually completed and I'm pretty damn happy about that! I was so worried about abandoning this guy and I'm glad I was able to finish it, hopefully it has come to a satisfying conclusion <3
Taglist: @zerokrox-blog @samcoxramblings @thosemessyvibes @liketheocean @vampireinthesun @themostunoriginalpersonever @merricatty @hyperfixationgoddess @hippieg1rl420 @mysticcrownshipper @estrellami-1 @clumsiluni @messrs-weasley @the-obsessed-nerdist
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