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#robin pov
whoopssteddiefeels · 1 year
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Penny in the Air
Robin is a lot of things: judgey, hyperactive, anxious, impulsive, talkative, loud- there’s a list okay, and she’s very familiar with it. High up the list is that she is very, very gay (if possible, she’s pretty sure she’s actually getting gayer. She blames Steve for this, as she’s pretty sure it has to do with being able to finally talk about her crushes to someone other than her reflection.)
The point is, she’s gay, so she’s not surprised that she notices first. The Steve-Eddie thing. Because it is, in fact, a thing at this point.
She knows Eddie is gay- knows it like the sky is blue and David Bowie rocks- because of, y’know, the way he is (if she had any doubt, the way he leaned in while calling Steve “big boy”, ew, killed it dead.) Her research suggests this is “gaydar,” but its very unfair, she thinks, that so far it has only detected exactly (2) gays, both men, making it pretty much useless. It has given her exactly 0 information on Vickie.
She empathizes with Eddie’s position. Feels it pang under her sternum when his eyes go soft watching Steve talk emphatically, hair flopping around in that ridiculous way it does. Knows how it must catch in his throat when his hand suddenly retracts halfway to Steve’s shoulder, going to his own hair to cover the aborted movement. Tries hard to not over-identify with the sharp tug he gives there, trying to snap himself out of it (fails because she did literally exactly that when Vickie was in the video store the previous day, almost as if he had seen and copied the mechanism).
The part of the puzzle she can’t figure out is Steve. She’s annoyingly aware that he likes (groan) boobies, thanks Fast Times, and he isn’t treating Eddie like a girl whose number he’s trying to score. That being said, whenever the older boy appears, Steve lights up like a damn Christmas tree. Affection doesn’t have to be romantic; she knows this- wants to hit several of the kiddos over the head with it whenever they allude to her dating Steve- but empathy for Eddie is tinting her judgement, and once you put on the gay rose-tinted glasses it’s hard to unsee the possibility. It certainly seems like flirting. Rearranging his hair every three seconds, drawing Eddie’s eyes to the mane that is his pride and joy. Getting what she can only describe as unnecessarily close when he squeezes by Eddie in the video store aisles or whoever’s living room they’re sprawled in, hands brushing a shoulder, back, or one time his hip under the pretense of maintaining balance. The soft blush whenever Eddie flirts hard in a way he knows can be passed off as a joke. The honest megawatt smile Steve gets whenever Eddie starts in on his usual antics is infinitely more endearing than the smolder he’s learned to use like a weapon.
She usually knows exactly what Steve is thinking or feeling before he does. They’ve got that whole platonic soul mate telepathy thing, and he’s easily the center of her social world. So, since she can’t tell what he’s thinking (other than the obvious but unhelpful “Eddie, yay!”), she’s 99.9% sure, from experience, ok, that it means he isn’t thinking. Like at all. So, what she’s witnessing is instinctive, his body just moving into Eddie’s space because it feels correct, and he hasn’t paused to think about it.
             He’s walking that line of comfortable and affectionate that is ambiguously intimate. Could be platonic, could be more. It would be frustrating for anyone with a crush, but she knows from bitter experience with straight-girl crushes that Eddie must be going insane. And yes, Robin and Eddie are friends, but not close enough for her to open a conversation with “So you’re obviously gay and into Steve, my best friend who I talk to every second of every day, and no he hasn’t mentioned it, and neither have I. What’s up with that?” Similarly, she can’t quite figure out how to bring it up to Steve without accidentally outing Eddie in the process.
That’s the main reason she’s keeping her mouth uncharacteristically shut on the subject. She is not, however, above the occasional raised eyebrow, ok, especially as Eddie’s flirting slowly becomes ridiculously obvious. The man is literally leaning on the counter, chin on his hand, mooning up at Steve through his eyelashes. Steve has his hip propped on the opposite side, leaning into the shared space. How are either of them this oblivious, seriously.
~*~
She’s there when the penny finally drops.
They’re not even watching a romantic movie, it’s fucking Life of Brian, all three of them calling out their favorite lines along with the actors, throwing things and generally goofing off. If she takes the armchair to force the boys together on the couch, she doesn’t think anyone can blame her. If she’s feeling a little smug that they both sit in the middle, right next to each other, instead of taking opposite ends, she keeps it to herself. She might not want to stick her foot right in the middle of that mess, but she’s not above setting booby traps.
Robin couldn’t tell you exactly when Steve’s arm went around Eddie’s shoulder; it was somewhere between Eddie practically climbing into Steve’s lap for a “Biggus Dickus” re-enactment, the closeness and flirting safely enveloped in humor, and Steve attempting to force Eddie to “haggle” for the bag of chips. When she glances over from the safety of her armchair, Steve’s arm is trapped behind Eddie’s head, draped over his shoulder on the opposite side. Eddie, usually a constant ball of fidgety motion, is frozen stiff like he’s trying not to scare off a nervous rabbit. Even in the blue light coming off the screen she can see the flush coloring his usually nocturnal-pale cheeks.
The thing is, Steve had just discussed this move with her. Told her to invite Vickie to movie night, recommended light, easily joked off roughhousing and settling an arm around her in a way specifically gaged to judge the reaction. Which means he knows. No way he hasn’t finally figured out what his lizard brain has clearly been screaming for months (seriously, she deserves a medal. Someone tell her future girlfriends about her stamina), not with the way he’s twirling a soft brown curl around and around his finger. He must know Eddie can feel that. And oh. Steve is not-so-subtly glancing to his right, trying to gage that reaction like they discussed, to see if this is ok.
Yup. Robin needs to be literally anywhere else. She tries to be subtle (insert laugh here), muttering “bathroom” and legging it out of the room, seeking the safety of the kitchen. She wasn’t worried though- odds are she could start playing trumpet and those two wouldn’t hear it past the tension of the moment.
 ~*~
In addition to gay, Robin is also easily bored. She hums along to “Always look on the bright side of life,” drifting in from the living room, crunching on some peppery crackers she found in a cabinet in a way that vaguely matches the song’s rhythm. She would just leave the boys to whatever they were going to do (yuck, don’t think about it), but unfortunately the two people most likely to give her a ride home were occupied (seriously, no thinking about it). She’d held out for as long as she could, really, but if the movie was ending, surely she had given them enough time?
Hoping she wasn’t going to regret it, she peaked out of the kitchen, and was relieved to see that 1) everyone still had clothes on and 2) Steve and Eddie were cuddling. Fucking finally.
“SO, BOYS,” she boomed (remember loud is on the list of things she is), trying not to enjoy the way two ridiculous heads of hair jumped and then shifted away from one another anxiously. “Who finally lost the longest game of gay chicken I’ve ever seen?”
Steve’s head makes an audible thump as it drops against the back of the couch, hands coming up to rub at his face as she rounds the furniture to face them, feeling deliciously smug. Eddie gave up any pretense and buried his face in Steve’s shoulder, sweater and hair completely hiding his face.
“Shut up Robin, go away,” Steve groans.
“Nope! This has been the slowest burn of all time, you guys were killing me. I have to balance it out by being just as insufferable.” she chirped, doing her best Steve impression, hands on her hips and eyebrow quirked.
“Technically, I would say we both won gay chicken since neither of us pulled back. No chickens here. Roosters only, in fact.” Eddie surfaces with a smug little smile, dimples on full display.
“Oh you’re definitely a cock Munson, I’ll give you that,”
“Don’t make me flip you the bird-”
“That’s a bit of ostritch-”
“Well toucan play at that game-”
“I’m so happy I like tits-“
“Why me?” Steve grumbled at the same time Eddie dropped his teasing tone to ask, “Wait what?”
“Me? Lesbian. You? Obviously gay. Steve has been flirting back at you for months you dingus.”
“I’ve been what?” Steve sits up straight, suddenly laser focused on Robin. “I have not. I only realized, like, a week ago-”
He was seriously going to be the death of her.
“Steve. Stephen. My guy. What would you say if I told you a girl had been giving me a hair show, the unnecessary squeeze-by, and big eyes? Consistently. For weeks.”
Eddie starts laughing. Then cackling. Steve went an even deeper shade of red, though she could tell this one was more indignant ruby than embarrassed scarlet.
“Thank you,” Eddie wheezed out, fighting down another fit, picking himself up from where he had slid down the couch. “Oh my god, thank you for fucking noticing that. He was wasn’t he? I thought it was just in my head, y’know, and Gareth always said I tend to imagine signs that aren’t there.”
“Oh I know, you think you have a hard time, girls are so physically affectionate platonically, it’s impossible to tell-”
“Ok. Done with this conversation!” Steve interrupted, standing up between the two of them, hands furiously combing through his hair.
Robin only grinned wider at Eddie. “So, Munson, care to give me a ride home?”
“You know, Buckley, I would be delighted.”
“Hey now-” Steve tried to interject as the two of them moved towards the door.
“Why thank you, kind sir.”
“Don’t mention it, fair lady. Your chariot awaits.”
“Wait, hang on, Eddie-” Steve’s tone shifted from confused to plaintive as she stepped out into the night. And she resolutely pretended to not hear Eddie’s reply before he closed the door behind them.
“Sit tight, big boy, I’ll be right back!”
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atmilliways · 7 months
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Wrong On The Money (51)
part 51 of 55 | 1894 words | Teen+
Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr
Summary:
Robin can’t believe what she’s hearing.  That Eddie, who knows a thing or two (hundred) about being treated like a freak, who’d fought with them in the trenches of saving the world from unknown horrors, would do something like that. To Steve. 
You'll notice I have at least an estimate for the final chapter count now. I always love seeing notes like this on other fics, where the author is like "Okay I think it's just one more chapter guys" and you glance up to the fic info on the Ao3 page and there's definitely like, five more. We'll see how well my optimism ages.
Anyway, have some protective Robin rage from her POV!
51.
The phone rings late a few nights after Starcourt, jolting Robin out of an uneasy sleep. She shoots out of bed, racing for it before her parents wake up. She manages to get downstairs and down the hall in just a few more rings and snatch it up.
“Hello?” she whispers. 
“Robin?”
Her hands clench on the plastic handset at the sound of Steve Harrington’s voice coming down the line. “Steve!? What’s wrong, are you okay? Did something happen?”
“‘M fine,” Steve rushes to assure her, stumbling over his words. “I’m fine. I just. . . . I’m calling to say I’m sorry. For dragging you into this shit, 's my fault because you were working with me, and Dustin can’t talk quiet worth a damn, and. . . . I’m so, so fucking sorry.”
Okay, not so much stumbling as slurring. Okay. Steve Harrington is calling her drunk in the middle of the night. Sure, that’s a relatively normal thing to happen after . . . everything. 
“Have you been drinking?” Robin hisses. “You’re drinking with a head injury?”
“I’m, ‘m drinkin’ by myself,” Steve mumbles, and he sounds so young when he says it. She wants to crawl through the phone line and hold his hand. 
“Where are your parents?”
There’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and then Steve says, “On a business trip.”
“Still? I thought you called them.”
“Yeah, they. . . . It’s an important trip. Meeting. Thing, I d’know.”
Robin chews on her bottom lip. On one hand, she barely knows Steve, really. She has no idea what his home life is like, but it doesn’t seem great that his parents know about his concussion, broken ribs, etc. but still didn't bother to come home and look after him. That’s what parents are supposed to do.
On the other, this is the guy who loudly drew the Russians’ attention so they took him for interrogation instead of her. And even if that was plain old sexism on the Russians' part, he’d still run his mouth even after being pummeled, insisting that she wouldn’t tell them anything. They’d almost pulled off his fingernails, for fuck’s sake.
“Steve,” Robin says firmly. “I can get to your place in fifteen minutes on my bike, okay? I’m gonna hang up and do that, and can you do me a favor while I do?”
“Of course Robs, anything,” Steve slurs easily, and goddammit. This dingus is going to end up being her best friend, isn’t he?
“Drink a glass of water for me while you’re waiting, okay?”
“Okay,” he replies. She can practically hear him nodding, which also can't be good for the already bruised brain knocking around in there.
She gets there in under ten, discarding her bike halfway up the driveway and darting up to the front door in case any of the neighbors are awake at this hour. It’s unlocked, and for a moment she’s frozen with terror at that fact—what if the Russians are back and they’ve tracked Steve down? What if they’re here? 
But then she goes inside and finds Steve in the most bland foyer she’s ever seen, sitting on the carpeted stairs with his head in one hand and a half empty glass of water in the other. He looks up at her approach, eye and cheek and lip still swollen. It looks like he got chewed on and spit back out, and all she can think of is how small his voice had sounded over the phone. 
Mr. Popular, Mr. Cool, cries on her shoulder while telling her how sorry he is again. He tells her about Nancy’s friend Barb and how she died in an alternate version of his pool because he’d thrown a stupid party. He tells her about bullshit  and like we didn’t kill Barb and Nancy leaving him for Jonathan Byers until he’s hiccuping—
When he throws up on her shoes he apologizes for that too, and she womanhandles him upstairs to his room and the attached bathroom with her thoughts racing. 
Steve Harrington used to be a total douchebag. She hadn’t been wrong about that. But this is a totally different Steve, stumbling and full of guilt and a hefty portion of his dad’s liquor cabinet. This is, actually, a lot like Steve on Russian truth drugs. (There’s even a bathroom this time too, Steve hunched over the toilet and Robin trying to keep his hair out of harm’s way.) This is the boy who doesn’t treat her like a freak for liking girls instead of guys. The only person she’s ever told her secret, and isn’t holding it over her head the way she’s always had nightmares about. (Her nightmares have plenty of new material to work with now, anyway.)
He’s all alone, and not taking very good care of himself when left to his own devices after a buttload of fresh trauma, from the looks of it. So. 
Robin is going to be here for him as much as she needs. Not because she owes him or anything, but because this Steve deserves to have someone relentlessly in his corner. And since his parents seem to have abdicated that responsibility, that someone will just have to be her.
-
Robin can’t believe what she’s hearing. 
That Eddie, who knows a thing or two (hundred) about being treated like a freak, who’d fought with them in the trenches of saving the world from unknown horrors, would do something like that. To Steve. 
But there’s also Wayne Munson, who she knows now. Not as well as Steve, who looks more comfortable in this house than she’d ever seen him back in his parents’ place, but he’s a good person. A kind man, someone she can’t fault Steve for helping to save. 
The two things don’t fit in her head, and she has to pace while trying to wrap her brain around it because otherwise she feels like she might explode. 
“Okay,” she says, finally wheeling on him with a glare. “Okay. So you knowingly let some guy blackmail you, homophobically and hypocritically, because you thought he was hot and Dustin was sad?”
“Well—”
“And,” she interrupts shrilly, “you didn’t tell me. You hid not having enough money to eat—”
“I still ate,” Steve protests. “And I learned to make all those casseroles, you love those!”
Robin storms back over to the couch. There aren’t any decorative pillows like there had been at his parents house, because the Munsons don’t go in for that extra frills sort of shit. She snatches one of the cushions instead and thumps him on the head with it, making him drop his pizza in his lap.
“Aw shit, toppings side down. . . .”
“Steve,” she snaps. 
He looks up, holding the rescued slice in his hand and licking a glob of red sauce he’d scraped off his jeans off his other thumb. “I didn’t tell you,” he agrees, voice heavy. “You would’ve tried to talk me out of it and I couldn’t just. . . . Not after Barb.”
“Just because Nancy said so doesn’t mean what happened to Barb was your fault, Steve,” Robin reminds him. She's about ready to throw the entire cushion at him in frustration because they’ve had so many talks about that now. Has none of it stuck?! “But guilt or not, that doesn’t make what Eddie did okay!”
“I know,” Steve says quickly. He’s got those big damn puppy dog eyes that all but bleed sincerity. “I know it’s not okay. And that it’s not my fault about Barb.” There’s pepperoni and veggies on his leg; he starts picking them up and putting them back on his pizza. “I didn’t know that if I’d done something different, she might not have died. But I knew that about this, okay? Eddie was working himself to death and it still wasn’t enough, and I knew I could help.” 
The without getting the shit kicked out of me goes unspoken, but Robin knows his track record with that and can read between the lines. It’s almost definitely the easiest time he’s had saving a life since 1983.
But still.
"Blackmail isn't the cornerstone of a stable loving relationship, Steve!"
“I know.” Steve sighs, and goes to rake a hand through his hair before remembering just in time that it’s covered in pizza sauce and grease. “I know. . . . We’ve saved each other's lives though, Rob. And we’ve talked it all out, okay?”
She frowns, squeezing the couch cushion in frustration. “Not okay.”
“Come on. I know it was a shitty thing to do, and so does Eddie. You forgave me for years of being a douchebag, can’t you forgive him for this one thing?”
One thing. One thing, when said thing was threatening to out someone? Holding it against their throat, against Steve’s throat, like a broken bottle with actual intent to spill blood? How could she possibly, possibly not hold that against Eddie, when just the thought of it made her adrenaline spike and pulse race because being forcibly outed in Hawkins fucking Indiana is literally her own worst nightmare?!
Or, well. One of.
Steve is still giving her the damn puppy dog eyes. He looks so sad, whereas he’d looked so happy a moment ago, in a dumb, goofy, sappy way that she’d never quite seen from him about any of the parade of girls he’d gone out with since after Starcourt. It’s almost as though he thinks his epic quest to find The One (she can never help but crack a smile when she thinks of it as ‘finding his Suzie,’ and she’s upset right now, dammit, this is no time for grinning) has finally come to an end.
With Eddie Munson, who until ten minutes ago she would have said was a nerdy but perfect match for him. 
And, okay. She doesn’t want to be the reason Steve looks sad. He’s old enough to make his own decisions, and if he seems happy with them then it’s not up to her to rip that happiness to shreds, even over perfectly reasonable concerns. 
After a long moment Robin drops back into the couch next to him, clutching the cushion to her chest. “I still wish you’d told me. I would’ve shared my food with you. I would’ve known not to bum off of yours, and forced you to take gas money!”
“Robs, no,” Steve groans, then shoves a big bite of his messed up pizza slice in his mouth and keeps talking around it. “I told you a million times, I don’t want to be treated like a taxi driver.”
As if she doesn’t know for a fact that he threatens Dustin and the rest of the kids that he’s going to start charging for rides at least once a week. He’d explained to her once—after a night hanging out with Argyle and the rest of the older Hawkins crew, and everything had been hilarious at the time—that he doesn’t want the little shits to take it for granted and act as entitled as he used to.
Steve Harrington is too fucking good for his own good these days, even if he is a total dingus about it a lot of the time. 
And she’ll deal with Eddie later. Right now she’s hanging out with her best friend, and that’s far more important than putting the fear of Robin into a skinny metalhead.
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mymariahcarey · 1 year
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@landofsonlali mentioned “i want a fic and/or art where steve and robin go through a series of jobs that all have terrible costumes. they have the scoops costumes, the elves, maybe they have to dress up as mascots for some fast food chain. i just want them to be forced into ridiculous costumes for all their jobs 😆” and I decided to run with this at 8am.
It’s a decade of different uniforms. Scoops and the family video vests were just the beginning. Steve and Robin worked at family video together until Robin went of to [insert big city] for college, Steve (and Eddie) in tow.
They work at a sandwich shop for a while, the hats an obnoxious caricature of a giant sub sandwich. Then a 50s diner which does wonders for Robin’s dating life, the attire suiting her extremely well as she leans into the more masc fashion of the era. (It’s also annoying does wonders for Steve and Eddie’s sex life, but she tried not to think about that). Then there was the Holiday season of 89 where they’d both taken second jobs as Mall Elves. (She still get quesey at the smell of peppermint. She’d had to switch toothpaste flavors after that one.)
After that it’s a rotating door of book store (another vest), hot dog shop (another hat added to the pile, and a very short stint as children entertainers (giant mascot costumes they’ve shoved into the front hall closet of their duplex).
But eventually she finishes school (and Steve does too) and they don’t get to work together anymore. There was a brief period of time when they wondered if to be ‘successful’ adults they’d need to also not live together.
After assurances from both Eddie and Nance (who Robin started dating around the time her and Steve were dressed as aforementioned furries) that no one was really all that interested in splitting up, she and Steve both relaxed. Because while they have their respective partners, their connection it far too deep to not be working together AND living together.
Eventually, around the late 90s they’ve saved up enough money to move into a bigger house, a house that lets them feel like they live together but gives them enough privacy that Robin doesn’t have to worry about walking in on something she’d rather *not* walk in on.
The uniforms sit in a hall closet alongside a bat and metal trash can lid with nails hammered through and an actual safe for Nancy’s fire arms, and a boom box preloaded and with very specific list of songs.
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bejeweledbaby · 2 years
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sometimes I wish nancy wheeler was in love with me
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ashoss · 1 month
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let tim dunk on batman its funny
w/o text under the cut :3
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Okay this one's been stuck in my head all day but I have absolutely time to write it so please share this vision with me
Try as they might, Steve and Robin couldn't get tickets to Chrissy Cunningham's arena tour, but they could get tickets to a festival she was playing.
The last thing Steve ever wanted to do was go and stand in a muddy field for sixteen hours while they waited for the headline act. But he was pretty sure Robin was in love with her favourite musician, and he wasn't about to deny his best friend a chance at love.
So he helped her make personalised t-shirts because honestly all the other bands in the line-up kinda sounded like they sucked.
His read, "Only Here for Chrissy" on the front and "I'm Steve" on the back and Robin's read "Chrissy, Will You Be My Girlfriend?" on the front and "If Lost, Please Return To Steve" on the back.
And it turned out, as they stood against the barrier in a not so muddy field, on a lovely, warm, but overcast, May day, that even bands that sucked could be fun. Even if it was only because they spent their day with earplugs in, so their eardrums wouldn't combust, bitching about each artist's lack of ability to put notes or an outfit together.
During the lunchtime intermission, the pair made friends with the lesbian couple next to them, Kayla and Jess, who were also eagerly awaiting Chrissy's set and similarly liked to mock those who committed crimes against sound and fashion. Steve was glad to have met them, they were really nice, and he felt better about leaving her to use the bathroom or to fetch food, knowing Robin was in safe hands.
He also felt better about letting her wander off, not that it stopped him from stressing out when she and Kayla had been missing for over fifteen minutes. He spread himself out to keep their places against the railing with his back to the stage, watching the crowd intently. Jess wasn't quite as chatty once they were alone, but she seemed content enough, bobbing along to the band that'd appeared on the stage.
Steve didn't turn back around to face the stage until he spotted the girls heading back towards them, he gave them a wave and turned around to look at the guys who hadn't been attempting to destroy anyone's hearing and was met with the face of the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. Pretty face, long curly hair tied up in a bun, muscle tee showing off his many tattoos, piercings and chains and glittery Docs; Steve felt himself owl blink and blush.
God's gift to mankind was kneeling centre stage, guitar in hand making the most beautiful sounds Steve had ever heard as his fingers flew over the strings, and it was only when the rest of the band kicked back in that the man looked up, winked directly at Steve, and then jumped back to his feet, spending the rest of the song bouncing around the stage.
Steve only realised his mouth was agape when Robin finally arrived next to him and elbowed him hard in the ribs, giving him the same look she did whenever he was embarrassing in the club. He watched the rest of the Corroded Coffin, according to the backdrop, set in awe. Screaming and clapping along when they wished everyone a great day, throwing picks and drumsticks into the crowd and taking a bow; patting each other on the back as they wandered offstage.
As soon as it was quiet again, Robin wanted to know what the hell was wrong with his face and honestly, he couldn't answer her. He didn't even believe in love, not for himself at least, and he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight. It didn't stop him from spending the next couple of hours watching the faces at the sides of the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of his new favourite guitarist, though.
As soon as Chrissy hit the stage, Steve got lost, between filming the set and watching Robin trying not to hyperventilate when Chrissy spotted her t-shirt, pointed to her, and giving her a coy little wink, blew her a kiss.
"An old school friend is here with me tonight, and I'd like him to help me out with this next track. Especially for the beauty in the front row, this is Girlfriend!"
The crowd went wild as the beat kicked in, but Steve was still watching Robin because it looked like she'd stopped breathing altogether. That was until she gasped loudly and started smacking Steve in the way she always did whenever she got overly excited; pointing wildly at the stage, and it was only when he looked over he saw Corroded Coffins guitarist bouncing up and down next to Chrissy.
Instead of the black muscle vest and skinny jeans he'd been sporting earlier in the day, he had changed into pale blue board shorts and a baggy white t-shirt that read "Hey Steve!" written in black sharpie with a giant winking smiley face underneath that could only really be seen when he swung his guitar around his back to copy Chrissy's dance moves.
The song ended, and the friends hugged, Chrissy waving him off the stage and calling out, "Eddie Munson everybody!" letting the crowd go wild for her friend before launching into the rest of her set.
By the time Chrissy had actually left the stage, Robin looked exhausted, having screamed and sung and danced herself out. They hung around a bit, said goodbye to Kayla and Jess, wishing them a safe journey home, and they were just taking one last look at the now empty stage when he heard someone yell his name...
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damianwaynerocks · 5 months
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i wonder how many social workers bruce paid off over the years.
like?? broken bones. busted lips. black eyes. these would’ve been hotlined for sure.
even ignoring the injuries, bruce wouldn’t have been a first pick as a foster placement. like with dick specifically, you’re supposed to try to find a family friend to stay with before you look for strangers so i feel like dick should’ve been placed with someone from the circus. but instead bruce wayne, a 20-something billionaire. i bet bruce has the gotham city department of social services in his wallet. i bet every year there’s a rookie social worker fresh out of college determined to take bruce down but it never works bc bribery talks in gotham
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arsmentae · 8 months
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Robin cowboy hat enjoyers rise up
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howtokillavampire · 12 days
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do you ever see fanart so tasty that you are then obligated to join the fandom and spend all of your waking hours learning the lore behind the characters, or is that not a universal experience?
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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I have this idea for a post but I feel like you would do it justice.
Basically, Danny is yeeted through a dimensional portal and reincarnated as the clone son of Tim and Connor(from when Tim cloned Connor during his death). This little shit wakes up after that, when Connor has already been found, as a six year old gremlin with a need for chaos.
Que pranks!
I don’t have much more than that so I will leave this in your capable hands.
-🎃
"Master Bruce, if I have to remind you to fix your tie one more time, Gotham will be without its protecter for many months to come!" Alfred snapped - actually snapped - from where he was attempting to reorganize the entirey of the Emberald Sitting room.
Right now, he moved all the furniture and all the wall directions. He was just adding some tastefully done flower pots to make the place look inviting but also regal.
It had been six hours, and from the looks of it, Alfred had not found the balance he desperately wanted. He started over four times. His patience was all but gone.
Bruce's hands snap to his tie, scrambling to get it set just right. He moves it only slightly to the left - not making much difference - with a nervous smile. Alfred's teeth snap shut with a click, and his eyes blaze with frustrated rage as he rounds the coffee table toward the billionaire.
Bruce looks to be holding back a scream.
Dick winces, sinking into his chair lest the aged Butler turns his ire onto him. He knows why this evening has to be just right. Especially to Alfred, but gosh, he could not handle how terrifying the butler could be.
It's just for one dinner and one evening. Dick tells himself. Once Alfred can finally say he married one of us off, things will return to normal.
"Honestly! If you didn't walk around looking like an unkeept vagabond all the time, maybe there would be a Lady of the House by now!" Alfred sneered at a pale-looking Bruce.
Or maybe Timmy bringing Kon over to announce their engagement means Alfred will try to marry the rest of us off harder. Dick despairs as Bruce endures another tongue-lashing. He wants to go help, but if he moves even an inch from his seat, Alfred might realize Dick is still in the room.
He can't afford to anger the beast any further.
"And you, Master Dick!" Alfred suddenly rounds on Dick, pointing one long finger into his face, with narrowed eyes and the grim reaper at his shoulder. Oh, dear.
Thankfully, that's when the doorbell rings. At once, Alfred's face clears into an excited smile. "They're here! I'll let them in right away; you lads, gather the rest of the family. And remember, we must make a great impression! Tonight is the night we invite Mister Kon into the family!"
The butler doesn't quite skip out of the room, but the bristle walking with a chipper head turning is the close that Dick has ever seen him do.
"I'm so happy for Tim." Bruce mutters,"but I can not handle any more reminders that I haven't had a spouse."
"Tell me about it," Dick sighs, following after his father into the hallway and down to the dining hall. He can distantly hear Alfred opening the door and greeting the two. "A hour ago, he made seven passive agressive reminders that Tamaraneans propse with a dinner and a mock battle. Seven. I mean, how does he even know what Tamaraneans do when courting?"
"It's Alfred." Bruce tells him, taking a seat at the head of the table. Dick sits in the chair to his right as the oldest and First Heir- considering the reply. It makes sense.
Damian, Cass, and Duke walk in, not even a moment later. All are dressed better than any gala Bruce could have dragged them off, too. He is rather impressed that Damian is a red suit that makes even Bruce pale in comparison. Then again, he is the only one besides Alfred who has an eye for such things.
"Has he already proposed, or is he doing it at dinner table and were all supposed to act supirse?" Duke asks while sitting down. "I want to know what kind of face I should have prepared"
"The clone has asked Father for his blessing in his courtship with Timothy. He knew we would have figured out his plans when that blunder. It is no surprise." Damian huffs. Dick knows he's just upset that his big brother is going to get married and move out soon. He's adorable when he's territorial.
"I can confirm that Kon hasn't asked yet." Steph announces, strutting into the room in all her purple gown glory. Behind her, the Row sbilings wander in with matching celtic blue suits, making Dick grin. It's always nice to see people appreciate the best color. "Tim isn't the type of person to not show off his ring whenever he has a chance."
"I've always wanted to see a real-life popersoal!" Jarro gasps, flying into the room with his own little suit on. It's a nice black with green undertones just like Bruce's.
He lands in the miniature chair with a dinner dining set Alfred had special ordered for him.
It sits on top of where a regular dining set usually is, always the second chair on Bruce's left, because he is literally the favorite. Bruce denies it, but they all see the tender smile he throws the floating star.
The Wayne kids know. Jarro is too precious and hilarious, so none of them mind that he's the favorite. In fact, Dick has half the mind that he's the favorite of the majority of the family.
Jason leans over to pat Jarro's head, grinning when the little starfish swears. He adores when the kid randomly curses out of Aldred's hearing range.
"Shh, they're coming!" Cullen says from where he was lingering by the door, hoping to see Tim and Kon. He always looked up to the older boys as someone who had been forced into the closet for his own protection.
Seeing people like him helped ease the fear, and Dick feels his smile wideing when Cullen scrambles back to his seat. He's so excited he's practically in the Speed Force.
Alfred opens the door first, stepping to the side to allow the guest to enter first. Dick feels himself sit up straighter, the moment really setting in, Kon is going to propose to his younger brother.
His little Timmy is growing up-
"Wow, this place is big!" A child says, running into the room. Who the heck is he? "It's amazing, Dad!"
"Slow down. You don't want to fall." Tim laughs, rubbing the stranger's hair with a soft smile.
"It's okay, Dad. I'm strong!" The boy flexes his tiny arms. Tim laughs again as Kon crouches down to the little boy's height.
"Woah! Look at all those musceles. You're going to help me protect your dad, son?"
"Yeah Pa, I'll be the strongest super or robin ever!"
"Tim? Who might this lovely chum be?" Bruce cuts in, voice slightly strained. No one calls him out on it since they are staring wide eye at the tiny little boy who looks like an exact copy of Tim at age five.
Dick knows because he was one of the few in the Wayne's who saw Tim at that age. He's practically a clone to oh no.
Dick thinks he's having a heart attack.
Tim looks up at them before a brillient glowing smile breaks across his face. "Everyone, Kon and I have an announcement to make!"
Kon wraps an arm around his waist, sending adoring looks to man in his arms before they both hold up their left hand.
There are twin silver bands on both of their fingers. "We got married in Las Vegas, and we have a son! I like you all to meet Danny Drake-Kent! I made him when I thought Kon was dead."
"I am Danny, clone of Kon-el and Tim Drake. Fear me if you dare!" His voice squeaks. Squeaks.
Scratch that, Dick knows he's having a heart attack.
You can hear a pin drop in the silence his announcement cause, as Danny puffs up his chest and floats a few inches off the grown.
Oh, great heavens, Dick is an uncle.
"A fellow clone, son!" Jarro cheers from his little table. He slams two of his star points on the table to a beat that he speaks to. "One of us. One of us."
Danny's blue eyes land on the star fish and widen. He raises both arms into the air chanting back. "One of us. One of us. One of us!"
"It's awesome is what it is!" Steph cries, jumping up from her seat. "Hi, Danny! I'm you, Auntie Steph! I'm the cool one."
"Isn't this lovely? Master Tim not only has a husband but a child as well. Unlike some Masters." Aldred doesn't quite glare at Bruce, but he doesn't have to. The Waynes know who he means as Bruce wince.
Danny pauses in his chanting to look her up and down, staring pointily at her plum colored dress before humming. "That's a bold statement for an eggplant."
Steph gapes at him as Tim roars with laughter.
Oh, Dick is going to love this kid. He leaves his seat, trying to get to his nephew as the rest of the family attempts to do the same. Damain makes alarming threats to Kon, letting him know he would easily take him out if he detects a hint of mistreatment to his brother and new nephew.
The Waynes act like they can't hear the threat because they all have their own versions of the shovel talk prepared. They just have to get the clone alone.
It's a nice dinner.
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bigskyandthecoldgun · 6 months
Text
based on this
steve's pov | dragon's pov
Steve had found Dragon hiding in a bush when she’d been a teeny, tiny kitten with mangy black fur and green eyes that took up basically her whole face.
She’d been so sickly, in fact, that the vet had warned Steve she might not make it. Steve had refused to give up on the kitten, though, nursing her back to health as best as he possibly could. Now, she’s an enormous, regal-looking cat that has a meow closer to a roar, a purr that makes her sound like a motorcycle engine, and breath so terrible it should be legally qualified as a hazardous gas. That is, admittedly, where Dragon had gotten her name. Steve had found her just after the events of ’84, and when Dustin came over to bug him for a ride to the arcade, he’d been all but obsessed with the poor cat.
“D’you have a name for her yet?” Dustin had asked, eyes wide with wonder as the kitten had scrambled up Steve’s pant leg and climbed up to perch on his shoulder, shaking and terrified at the stranger in their home.
“Nah. Figured I’d just call her, like, Midnight or something,” Steve had said with a shrug, to which Dustin had taken great offense.
Upon smelling the stench that had come from the kitten’s hiss, Dustin had declared her a fearsome creature with a breath weapon, whatever that means—a Dragon. So Steve’s got a cat that is incredibly clingy and a little stinky, but only when she opens her mouth.
And his cat is ruining his dating life.
The thing about Dragon is that she doesn’t like most people. She tolerates Robin, even when she’s sitting next to Steve, but other than that, she hates it when people get close to Steve. Dragon’s the most territorial cat Steve has ever met, and Steve can hardly go anywhere in the house without Dragon at his feet or on his shoulders. And balancing a cat as large as Dragon on his shoulders is not an easy feat. Dragon screams if Steve closes her out of a room he’s in and sleeps directly atop Steve’s chest. That cat is the clingiest creature on the planet, and Steve would die for her.
But Dragon despises people. She hisses at the girls Steve brings home, yowls when the door to Steve’s bedroom is closed, and swats at anyone that tries to so much as touch him when he’s on the couch. It’s absolutely destroying Steve’s chances at bringing girls home, and while most of his dates are content to bring him back to theirs, Steve’s getting a little tired of being kicked out of bed. At least when he’s at home, he can mope right away when girls turn down his offer of staying the night and leave early, rather than moping in his car.
And it’s not like he’s getting a ton of action lately, anyway. Now that the whole Vecna debacle is over, with Eddie and Max out of the hospital, the Party spends most of its nights together, so Steve hasn’t been going on too many dates anymore. Instead, he spends his time either on someone else’s couch or his own, and if it’s the latter, he can count on Dragon sitting squarely on his lap and everyone but Robin sitting a few feet away for safety purposes.
It’s a late afternoon in November, when he’s hanging out alone with Eddie at his house for the first time, when Dragon does something truly surprising.
She lets Eddie pet her.
They’re hanging out in the kitchen, Steve almost done with his cup of coffee and Eddie nursing a cup of his own mixed with an absurd amount of hot chocolate powder. The coffee in late afternoon is a peculiar habit of Eddie’s; he says it’s because it’s when his uncle usually wakes up, and they have coffee together, so Steve thinks it’s kind of sweet. It’s a really nice afternoon, chilly but not too cold, only slightly overcast so that it’s not too sunny but not too cloudy, either. The cool light makes Eddie’s hair look shiny, and the gleam bounces off his skin like a halo might.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you how cool your cat is,” Eddie says, nodding towards the Dragon in question. Dragon hops up on the counter, then hops up on Steve’s shoulders, purring as she nudges the side of her face against Steve’s cheek. Eddie grins. “Dragon. A fitting name for a majestic beast.”
“I don’t know why she’s so unfriendly,” Steve sighs, reaching up to scratch behind Dragon’s fluffy ears. Dragon purrs even harder. Eddie snorts and reaches up to join Steve in scritching behind Dragon’s ears, but Steve takes a step back. “Woah, careful, man, don’t want you to get clawed.”
Eddie’s grin turns into a small, fond smile. “Cats don’t really like me, anyway, I don’t mind a little scratch or two,” he says, stepping closer to offer his hand up for Dragon to sniff.
Instead of the hiss Steve’s predicting, Dragon pushes her face against Eddie’s knuckles and continues to purr. “Holy shit,” Steve breathes, eyes wide, “she doesn’t do that with anybody.”
“She probably does that with you,” Eddie points out, and Steve gives him a flat look. The answering shit-eating grin he gets is unfairly endearing. “Nah, I get what you mean. But seriously? There must be someone else she likes. One of the kids? Some girl you brought home that happened to have cat treats in her purse or some shit?”
Steve groans and shifts Dragon into his arms, feigning annoyance when Dragon nuzzles against his jaw. It’s actually pretty cute. “No, this little asshole is ruining my chances of getting laid,” he says. “She hates everybody I bring home. She doesn’t even like the kids! The most socializing she’s ever done with another person before this is her letting Robin be next to me. Dragon tolerating a relationship? No way.”
Dragon lets out a loud meow and licks Steve’s cheek. “Well, maybe you just have to find somebody she likes,” Eddie says, scratching under Dragon’s chin. Dragon meows again and squints, chin tilting up to give Eddie more room to scratch. Eddie clicks his tongue. “Aw, see? She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she’ll have a soft spot for someone other than yourself soon enough.”
Steve decides to play along. “Draggy,” Steve coos, “will you please let Daddy get laid? Be all sweet and good instead of biting people’s ankles?”
“I’m sorry, did you just call yourself Daddy?” Eddie sputters, looking mortified.
Frowning, Steve shifts Dragon so that he’s holding her like one might hold an infant. “Yeah, I’m Dragon’s dad, and she’s my little baby,” he explains. “Duh.”
“No, okay, wh—nevermind,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “My point is, even if Dragon hates the ladies, I’m sure there’s one lady out there for you she won’t hate.”
As Eddie pets Dragon’s tummy—her tummy!—Steve realizes that, yeah, there is one person out there that Dragon doesn’t hate.
Steve resolves that, if Dragon really doesn’t mind Eddie’s company, he should have Eddie around more often. The way Steve sees it, if Dragon gets used to Eddie being in the house and being close to Steve, she might open up to other people who are around a lot, like the Party, and then she could even learn to tolerate girls coming over. As much as Steve hates to admit it, Eddie Munson might just be the reason his dating life gets revived.
At the next movie night, the movie night that Eddie finally shows up for, when Dragon hops into Steve’s lap and everyone scoots at least ten feet away, Steve pats the seat next to him. “Hey, Eddie, c’mere,” he says, and Dustin openly gawks when Eddie’s able to sit right next to Steve with no roaring protests from Dragon.
“What the hell?! I’ve been in your house so many times and I’ve never been able to sit near you when Dragon’s around!” Dustin huffs, scowling at the fluffy bastard. “And I’m the one who named her! I’m practically her godfather!”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Henderson,” Eddie says, a slow grin spreading across his face, which can’t be good. “If Steve’s pu—”
“Nope,” Steve cuts in, slapping a hand over Eddie’s mouth, cheeks burning, “not gonna let you finish that.”
Eddie nods. “Very wise,” he says, muffled. “It was gonna be incredibly inappropriate.”
Satisfied with having stopped that, Steve moves his hand away, and Eddie knocks their shoulders together. To Steve’s shock, Dragon doesn’t hiss or swat, just snuggles further into Steve’s lap and purrs harder than she’s ever purred before. The movie starts up, and Steve watches Eddie reach over in the dark, usually a bad move when it comes to Dragon. But Dragon just lets Eddie run a hand over the top of her head, and Steve leans into his side, the two of them sharing a small smile.
After the movie, when most everyone else has gone home, Eddie’s still around, scratching behind Dragon’s ears. “You know, you should hang out here more often,” Steve tells him, and Eddie raises a brow at him. Steve tilts his head. “I mean, Dragon doesn’t get a lot of socializing in, so…it’d probably be good for her.”
Clearly holding back a grin, Eddie nods. “Sure. I’d love to come around more so Dragon gets some socializing in,” he teases, and Steve rolls his eyes, holding back a smile of his own. Eddie leans closer, smoothing his thumb over Dragon’s fuzzy little cheek. “She’s really cute. Has good taste in who she lets pet her.”
Eddie casts his gaze down at Dragon. His lashes are long and dark. He has really nice hands, too, and it’s easy to notice them as they run over Dragon’s pitch-black fur. “Yeah,” Steve says quietly, giving Dragon a pat by her leg, “she does.”
Eddie comes over way more often from then on, and Dragon gets somewhat clingy to him, which is kind of unbelievable, because Dragon’s never rubbed up on anyone’s ankles but Steve’s, but it’s a marked improvement. The only downside is that Dragon still hasn’t improved with anyone else, but Steve figures that’ll change sooner or later.
For now, he’s content to hang out with Eddie in his room, laying on the bed with Dragon sitting on his chest and Eddie laying beside him. “Little lady,” Eddie coos, almost nose-to-nose with Dragon, who purrs. “Sweet baby girl.”
“She’s a smelly girl,” Steve tuts, scratching between Dragon’s ears. He looks at Eddie. “I still can’t believe you’re the only one out of everybody we know that she likes.”
Eddie looks up at him, big brown eyes shining with mirth. “I dunno, I think it’s pretty believable. I happen to be very likable,” he says. And, to Eddie’s credit, Steve’s found that he kind of is. “And besides, cats have good judgements of character. I’ve been chosen.”
Steve raises a brow. “I thought you said cats didn’t like you.”
Face scrunched up, Eddie tilts his head. “Yeah…I lied. Didn’t want to make you feel bad if I did get scratched,” he explains.
That’s fair, actually.
Dragon meows, raspy and roaring as always, and she smacks her paw out at Eddie’s arm, using her—trimmed, because Steve takes very good care of her—claws to drag him closer. “She wants you closer? That’s crazy,” Steve comments as Eddie scoots into his space, their sides pressed together. “She must really like you.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything, but he does smile, soft and private, and Steve thinks it’s nice. It’s a smile he hasn’t seen before.
It’s pretty.
Even with Eddie and Dragon getting buddy-buddy, it still doesn’t seem to be helping Steve’s case with bringing anyone home. Hell, Dragon still isn’t even close to being civil with most of the Party, barring Robin, who actually got in a single chin scratch the other day. But Eddie and Dragon are getting along swimmingly, to the point where Eddie can actually pick Dragon up! Granted, it’s not for very long, because Dragon starts screaming about ten seconds in until Steve takes her from Eddie, but still. It’s insane.
“You are killing me, you little menace,” Steve tells Dragon one night while Eddie’s using the bathroom. “Why do you like Eddie so much, huh? I mean, sure, he’s funny and he’s nice, but it’s not like you can understand what he says, you don’t speak English.”
Dragon meows indignantly at him from her place on Steve’s lap, slow-blinking at him.
“Yeah, yeah, I see your point. Eddie is pretty great,” Steve mutters.
Dragon yawns and starts making biscuits on his thighs, then purrs.
“Okay, so he’s handsome, too, but I don’t see how that’s appealing for you, you’re a cat,” Steve huffs. He blinks, face flushing. “Well, that’s—it doesn’t appeal to me, either, I guess.”
Dragon gives him an inquisitive little mrrowp? in response.
Steve blows out a long breath. “Look, Draggy, you gotta find someone else you like. Eddie can’t be the only other person you can tolerate, it’s just not realistic,” Steve tells her.
Dragon roars.
Shushing her, Steve pets her to sweeten the deal of shutting up. “Yeah, I know, and I like having him around, too—”
“Talking to your cat about me, Stevie?” Eddie asks, bouncing into the room and sitting down beside him with a flouncy sort of flip of his hair. “Well, Madam Dragon, I do hope he hasn’t been slandering my good name.”
He’s using that silly cat-voice he does when he’s talking to Dragon, and it’s almost as endearing as the way Dragon rolls over to let Eddie rub her tummy. “I would do no such thing,” Steve says, feigning offense, and Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Miss Dragon, don’t listen to a word he says,” Eddie tells the cat. He glances over at the clock and frowns. “Ah, shit, it’s getting late.”
“You could stay here, if you want,” Steve offers. “Maybe Dragon’ll suffocate someone else in their sleep for a change.”
Eddie laughs, but he takes Steve up on the offer, heading into the guest bedroom in a change of clothes that definitely doesn’t make Steve feel a certain type of way about seeing Eddie in his one of his old swim team shirts. Though, the night is not peaceful, because a certain giant, annoying cat refuses to stop screeching at the top of her lungs. Eddie comes stumbling back into Steve’s bedroom, Dragon held in his outstretched arms, Eddie’s hands tucked under the cat’s armpits.
There’s a grumpy, slightly disgruntled look on Eddie’s face. “Please tell your daughter to stop screaming at me,” he says, placing Dragon on the bed, and Steve reaches for her to drag her into his lap. Eddie nods and turns to leave, only for Dragon to scream again, and he whirls right back around. “Oh my God, what?!”
Dragon gives a little chirp and trots to the edge of the bed, nosing at Eddie’s hand. “Draggy, let Eddie go to bed,” Steve says, his voice rough with what little sleep he’d managed to get between Dragon’s long and loud meows.
“Yes, Dragon, I need my beauty sleep,” Eddie says. When he turns to leave again, Dragon yowls and bites down—seemingly gently—on his hand, carefully stepping backwards towards Steve while she does so. Eddie looks just as bewildered as Steve feels. “Does she want me to stay here?”
“I have no idea. I’ve literally never seen her do this before,” Steve tells him. “But, like, you can, as long as it’ll stop her from screeching.”
Eddie blows out a long breath. “Honestly, I don’t even care at this point, I just want to sleep,” he groans, clambering under the covers until they’re laying face-to-face beside each other. Eddie smiles at him, then winces and scoots closer. “Sorry, ah—she’s pushing my back.”
Dragon gives a little mrrp of confirmation.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into her, I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, and Eddie just half-shrugs, eyes darting everywhere but Steve’s face. He looks uneasy. “Hey, man, if you’re uncomfortable staying here, you can sleep on the pullout in the den and I’ll just lock her in here, she’s got a litterbox and water in my bathroom, she’ll be fine. And you won’t hear anything down there, so…”
Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. Wouldn’t wanna put you through that torture.”
He gets slightly closer, and Steve’s face goes a little hot at the proximity. Their noses are almost touching. “She’s being a little douchebag,” Steve murmurs. “Ignore her.”
“She keeps pushing at my back,” Eddie tells him, sounding a little panicked. “Why is your cat so strong, dude?”
“I can take her out of the—”
Dragon lets out a meow so loud that it rings out for a few seconds after she’s done.
Eddie is clearly fighting a laugh. “Okay, so keeping her out of the room isn’t an option,” he says, and Steve chuckles. Eddie gives him a curious sort of look. “Hey…about earlier. What were you telling Dragon about me?”
Oh, just that you’re funny and sweet and, apparently, I think you’re really handsome, is what Steve probably shouldn’t say.
“Oh, just that you’re funny and sweet and, apparently, I think you’re really handsome,” is what Steve says, because he’s an idiot.
Eddie’s brows shoot up, behind his bangs. “I’m sorry, you think what?”
“That you’re really handsome,” Steve says, because, again, he’s an idiot.
Blinking, Eddie starts to frown. “Are you messing with me right now? Because if you are, that is not cool, Harrington—”
“I’m not,” Steve says. “I’m—I didn’t—I mean, Dragon really likes you, and cats are…a good judge of character, and you’re, uh—you’re pretty.”
The frown turns into a poorly-hidden smile. “I’m pretty?” Eddie echoes, lashes batting, and Steve can’t tell whether or not that’s intentional.
“You are,” he says softly. “You also make me laugh, and you get along really well with my cat, which—and I don’t know if you know this—is very hard to do.”
Eddie laughs, almost bashful. “I did say there’d be somebody Dragon had a soft spot for other than you, didn’t I?”
“The little menace is a matchmaker,” Steve mutters, and Eddie leans forward just slightly until their noses are touching. Steve reaches up to cup Eddie’s face. “Can I kiss you?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie says breathlessly.
Steve presses their lips together gently, moving slowly, and Eddie hums into the kiss, one hand on Steve’s waist and the other sliding up to his chest. It’s soft and it’s good, and Steve leans into it a little more, his fingers tangling in Eddie’s curls as he deepens the kiss. Unfortunately, Steve has to pull back for air, but Eddie’s smiling when he does. Dragon meows, much further away than Steve had thought she’d been, and the sound of her collar jingling grows quieter and quieter.
“Well,” Steve says, “I definitely found somebody she likes.”
“Safe to say, she won’t prevent you from getting laid anymore,” Eddie murmurs, his low voice sending a shiver down Steve’s spine. He gets this hesitant sort of look on his face, like he isn’t sure if he’s overstepped. “I mean, only if you want to—”
Steve interrupts him with a chaste kiss. “Oh, I want to,” he whispers.
The next morning, when they wake up tangled in each other’s arms, clothes littering the floor, Dragon is sitting on the edge of the bed with Eddie’s discarded shirt in her mouth, tail flicking back and forth, looking smug as ever.
1K notes · View notes
xxbottlecapx · 6 months
Text
Outsider POV Steddie fic that came to me in a fever dream
Gareth notices the exact second Eddie realizes he is in love with Steve Harrington. 
Honestly, Gareth would have been very off putted by the idea of Steve being in their group, especially after whatever shit went down during the earthquake and manhunt that gave Eddie his scars, if not for the fact that every single time Gareth went to visit Eddie in the hospital, Steve was standing vigil at his door. 
Any hesitancy about Steve being a good person quickly plummeted after he watched Steve get in not one, not two, not three, but four fistfights with civilians dead set on breaking into a comatose Eddie’s room to “finish him off” even though, Gareth would come to find, Steve had some pretty severe stomach wounds as well.  
And now Gareth’s friend group included Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington, and of course the new gaggle of hellfire teenager recruits. Eddie, Jeff, Grant, and Gareth have always been rather solitary due to their status as outcasts, and now they had two absolutely terrifying jocks on their team. It was a bit surreal, and their friend group’s number was in the double digits. 
Of course, a lot has changed. 
Eddie had to use arm crutches now. Gareth wasn’t sure if they were permanent or if he would be able to walk without them with enough physical therapy. He had a large scar on his cheek too, and he was always absolutely terrified, even on the good days. It was just something in his eyes, always panicked, like he would get attacked at any time. If Gareth had been in his shoes, he would be the same way, so Gareth doesn’t judge him for it. 
That’s another reason why Gareth paid so close attention to Eddie’s… feelings… regarding former jock King Steve. Eddie was always more comfortable around Steve, like Steve’s presence soothed something in him that no one else could. 
Eddie never said he liked men. Even with the outcasts, that wasn’t necessarily a safe thing to talk about. Gareth knew something about secrets that could get you killed, though, as an intersex person himself. So he knew. Had figured it out rather quickly, back in seventh grade, and had subsequently laughed his ass off in private when he realized Eddie, for all his preaching about conformity, had a thing for jocks. 
Steve was different, though, than most of the jocks Eddie had feelings for. Eddie didn’t antagonize Steve, at least not in a way Steve didn’t not-so secretly like. Steve didn’t harass Eddie either, didn’t spew hatred at him the way other jocks tended to. Gareth had honestly thought that Eddie liking jocks who treated him like dirt was going to give him a complex or something.  Maybe it had. But Steve didn’t give into that stereotype. Steve treated Eddie softly, more so than anyone else ever had, and Gareth was pretty sure that even the clueless folk in the party were aware of that softness. Eddie needed it, especially now, when he always looked two seconds away from jumping in front of a moving vehicle just for some peace and quiet. 
When Gareth first met Eddie, he nicknamed him Twitchy, because Eddie was always nervous, shaky, he flinched at everything. When his hair grew out, he got better, and eventually the name faded. The urge was back now, but Gareth only ever gave into it in private. Their own little joke. 
It’s how he bonded with Robin, actually, who he found had nicknamed Steve Tiny, despite them being the same size. Tiny and Twitchy. Dynamic duo. 
For all Gareth’s talk about Eddie being in love with Steve, he was aware of the fact that Eddie didn’t know yet. 
Especially after the earthquake, Eddie wasn’t in touch with his emotions. He never had been, Gareth doesn’t think, but it was definitely worse now. There were things Gareth didn’t know, but he had watched Steve calm Eddie down from night terrors and random daytime flashbacks enough that he wouldn’t ask unless Eddie wanted to talk about it, and Gareth was pretty sure there was something stopping him. 
It was good for everyone to get out of Hawkins, especially with all the relief efforts. It could get exhausting to be around that much destruction, even if life was back to some form of semi-normalcy. That’s why when Robin had heard about a carnival a few towns over, all the proceeds meant to help with Hawkins’ hospital, they all decided they could take a day to go, kids included since most of their schoolwork as of current came from a packet that they turned in at the end of the week. 
It was a fun day, all in all. Sure, they were a bit limited on what they could do considering Eddie’s forearm crutches and Max’s wheelchair (Gareth didn’t know there would ever come a day where he would understand the people that hate gopher holes), but being out in the open air seemed to calm everyone’s constantly frazzled nerves, at least that’s what Gareth thought. 
It was unanimously decided that they wouldn’t stay after dark. Gareth knew he had it easy compared to some of the others in the group, but even he had nightmares about when Jason’s goons held him down and tried to break his hand. He did sprain two of Gareth’s fingers, but luckily they healed quickly. Gareth’s watched multiple of their new group members have meltdowns over flickering lights, which are much easier to notice at night. The dark wasn’t safe for any of them, some people still convinced Eddie was a murderer despite the official story of Henry Creel. Gareth says official because despite not knowing what actually happened, he remembers all of Eddie’s rants about not trusting the government, he’s seen the scars and the nightmares, and he knows it’s all dog water.
The sun was just starting to inch its way past the horizon, purple and orange splayed across the sky like ribbons, as they came upon their last activity. 
Face painting. 
Robin and Max had spent more than half the day trying to convince Steve to get matching flowers with them. Eventually, despite Gareth’s discomfort of the idea, he said he’d do it too, which led to the entire group (except Mike) agreeing to it. 
Steve was by far the most nervous of the bunch about the paint. Gareth liked Steve, with both his masculine and feminine traits. Gareth had always been too scared to be feminine, afraid that someone would figure him out. Gareth looked up to Steve in that way. He didn’t think Steve was aware of his more ‘feminine’ traits, and he’s sure if he pointed it out, it would make Steve stop, so he never did. It’s like Steve gravitated towards those things despite thinking he shouldn’t. Gareth respected the contrast of a guy who could pummel a man twice his height that also liked wearing lipgloss. 
Steve went last to get his face painted, the rest of the group roughhousing to the side. Jeff had Mike in a headlock, for whatever reason, and Max and Erica were urging them on, whisper-yelling fight fight fight as to not startle Steve. 
Robin was comforting Steve as the woman at the booth readied her supplies. She was going to mimic what she had done on Robin, a cute yet simple pink and yellow floral design on her cheekbones and crawling up the side of her eye. 
It became apparent pretty quickly that Steve’s nerves were on high alert. Maybe it was the kids, or just the remembrance of night’s oncoming torrent. Steve kept flinching away from the wet brush, though the wonderful lady manning the booth didn’t seem upset. She kept talking gently, her locs held together in a large bun, some paint on her face and quite a lot of paint in her hair. Gareth didn’t know how she had the patience. 
Gareth couldn’t hear what was being said, but Robin kept talking, her hand in Steve’s. She got him into a heated conversation, confusing the fuck out of Gareth, before he realized she was trying to distract him. As Robin ranted, Steve arguing occasionally, the woman running the stand began to slowly paint the side of Steve’s face. 
The woman finally finished, moving her colorful hands in a flourish, and Steve thanked her, albeit with a slightly red face when he figured out what was happening. 
Robin says something else as Steve gets out of the tiny purple chair set out for him and Steve throws his head back in laughter, the bright drawing on the side of his smiling face visible to Gareth. Gareth looks to his side to say something to Eddie, probably a mindless joke of some sort, and 
Oh, 
There it was. 
Eddie was looking at Steve like he had been punched in the gut, as though all the air had been ripped from him. Like Steve was the most beautiful thing in the world and just looking at him hurt. His hands were clutching his crutches so tightly his fists were turning white. Eddie’s mouth just barely hung open, as though he had forgotten to close it or just wasn’t aware enough of his body to do so, his wide eyes dilated in a way that would have made Gareth think he was on something if not for the fact that Eddie hasn’t even touched pot since he got out of the hospital. 
There was so much devotion in that look that it would have startled Gareth if he didn’t already know. 
Thank God no one else was watching, because Gareth knew everyone would figure it out in seconds if they saw the look on Eddie’s face right now. There was no denying it. 
Steve laughs again at something Robin said, and Eddie audibly gulps. 
Well, he’s finally figured it out, then, Gareth thinks. 
“Close your mouth.” Gareth whispers, bumping Eddie’s side as Robin and Steve wave to the artist and start walking towards them. It snaps Eddie out of the Steve-imposed trance, and he visibly shakes himself off, as though Steve’s impression on him had to be dealt away with by force. It would have been cute to see Eddie blushing so if it wasn’t also terrifying, Eddie’s eyes widening in horror now as he, upon just realizing he was probably in love with Steve, is also realizing that Gareth saw it. 
“It’s okay. I know. You’re okay.” Gareth whispered again, just so Eddie could hear. He put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, partially to stop him from trying to get away and partially because he knew touch comforted him.
 They would have to have a conversation about it later so that Eddie wasn’t scared Gareth would tell anyone. By not moving away from him, Gareth hoped he was able to make his message clear that Gareth was not judging. He had no reason to judge, especially considering his budding crush on Will Byers. 
Gareth sighed, trying to give Eddie an encouraging look that, luckily, did seem to calm him down a little, a shaky grimace making its way back to him.
Now all Gareth needed to do was find out how to tell Eddie that he was pretty sure Steve liked him back. 
Yes this is based off of that one Anne With an E scene. 
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farfaras · 1 year
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Part 1.
Maybe if Steve acts casual Robin won’t even notice. She barely pays attention to him when she’s too busy rambling about her love life. Or lack there of. If Steve’s lucky, today is gonna be one of those days.
But Steve’s good luck probably ended the first time he took a look at a demogorgon.
“What is that?” Robin giggled. If she finds this amusing wait until she hears what actually happened.
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb. That only worked when I thought you were an actual idiot.” She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah well, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” Steve put on his family video vest and clocked in.
“What? I notice things!” Robin exclaimed when Steve made his way to the counter.
“Yeah, when you’re not too busy daydreaming about Vickie.”
“You’re changing the subject!”
“Objection!”
“Stop it!”
Steve sighed. How could you explain your friend sucked your neck to make your another friend jealous when you don’t even like said friend? Tricky.
Ugh. Robin was gonna make fun of him.
“You wouldn’t believe me.” Steve tried. It was a last resort to save himself from the embarrassment.
“Yeah, because I’ve never experienced anything out of the ordinary.” She raised an eyebrow. Steve knew she wouldn’t let it go. “When did you even go on a date, dingus? I don’t remember you telling me about it.”
“I didn’t go on a date.”
“Well then who did that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Ew! Are you in a friends with benefits situation?” She look scandalized and curious at the same time. “Because honestly Steve, I don’t think that’s your thing. I mean even if you try, it wouldn’t work out. You’re like an actual romantic. Wanting a serious relationship, yearning connection and all that shit. It would be cute if you weren’t kinda desperate sometimes.” Okay he had to cut her off if he wanted to keep his ego unbruised.
“Jesus! Okay! You don’t have to say it like I’m some loser who can’t get a girlfriend!” If he needed humbling he knew who to call now though.
“But you kind of are.”
“Do you want to know or not?” Even if he was embarrassed about the whole thing, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hoping Robin would give him some insight. Once she stopped making fun of him. “It was Eddie.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and… excitement? “Holy shit! It finally happened?” What is she talking about now? “I thought I would actually have to wait another year at least for you guys to figure it out.” There’s nothing that makes Steve feel more inadequate than when he doesn’t get what people are talking about. “I mean anyone who’s got eyes could see how much you two liked each other and it’s cute but I was getting tired of the pining..” she trailed off when she saw how silent Steve was. “Why aren’t you as excited as me?”
Pining? Like each other? Did Robin think..? Did Eddie?
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He questioned. His mind was going through every interaction him and Eddie once had. Trying to analyze his own behavior to come up with an explanation as to why someone would think he likes Eddie.
“Oh god. I thought. Did you guys not like… get together?” She was hesitant. It felt like she was trying not to scare a wild animal.
“No.”
“I gotta stop running my mouth like that. I’m sorry.” She looked mortified and it would be funny if this was another situation. “But what? Why would he do that? I’m so lost here, Steve.”
Steve went through backstory first, then he started retelling the events of the other day. Including how he actually enjoyed himself a little. He might as well be a hundred percent transparent, she was his best friend after all.
“Robin, say something.” His best friend being silent was not something he was used to.
“I’m so confused.” She said.
“Me too.” His confusion was starting to fade. The answer right in front of his face.
“So you’re… not together? Even after that?”
“I don’t even like him like that!”
“But you said you liked it!”
“Who wouldn’t!”
“I wouldn’t! Steve, a boy giving me hickeys is one of my worst nightmares.” He knew that. He knew it meant something that he liked it. The question is if he’s ready to face what it means.
“I- I know, okay?”
“Steve, say the word and we’ll stop talking about this.” He loves his best friend. He doesn’t know what he’d do without her.
“No. I think I’m ready.” Steve muttered. Robin smiled gently at him and that was all the encouragement he needed to feel safe enough to say it out loud.
“I like him.”
They hugged.
-
“It kinda sucks that he doesn’t like me back though.”
Robin thunked her head on the counter.
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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Eddie quietly falling more and more in love with Steve with every car ride—every time it’s raining, and he watches as Steve does a stupid little run with an umbrella to the front porch so Robin won’t mess up her hair before a marching band concert.
Falling in love with the constancy of it, with every little routine Steve does. It takes a few weeks of listening for Eddie to figure out that when Steve first half-sings, “Good mornin’,” as everyone clambers into the car that he’s imitating the song from Singin’ in the Rain.
Falling in love with how Steve always, always either has the radio on or a tape playing something that he can sing along to, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. How the car’s always this chaotic space but always, always brimming with love and joy—Steve snapping his fingers every few minutes, like, “Oh, Rob, this is our song! You know, when the—yeah, the shift when—no, not that one, the other time that—” (Eddie discovers with fond amusement that many, many songs share the title of ‘Robin and Steve’s song.’)
Steve singing along to the chorus of Mr. Blue Sky whenever Dustin’s called shotgun in the front, and Eddie soon realises, his heart fit to burst, that it’s because Steve must associate the song with Dustin; that he does the same thing with everyone he gives rides to, like it comes so naturally to him, his love for each person intertwined with each song, like he’s making the melody anew every time.
Eddie, tipsy from ‘Graduation Champagne’ courtesy of Nancy, asks Steve once if he has a song tied to him.
“Ah,” Steve says, smiling and bright-eyed in his role as the designated driver, “you have a whole damn catalogue, Eddie.”
And… oh.
Well, Eddie reasons, heart skipping a beat, he doesn’t need to know all of them at once, then. He doesn’t mind waiting, letting each one unfold, like unwrapping an expensive chocolate.
One night the two of them are driving back to Hawkins alone, having spent the day at a mall shopping for Robin’s birthday. They really didn’t need to spend the whole day, had already got her presents within the first couple of hours, but they dawdled, messed around, tried on increasingly ridiculous hats and sunglasses to make the other laugh.
And Steve fiddles with the radio until he finds an obscure station that just plays songs from musicals. And yeah, he sings along, but his voice is a little restrained, almost like he’s shy. Eddie looks at him with a soft smile, suddenly knows he’s seeing something precious, something Steve perhaps reserves for car rides alone. That Steve is letting him into a private moment.
“You have a real pretty voice, man,” he murmurs, quiet enough that they could pretend it goes unheard under the noise of the car driving along.
But as Steve looks ahead, he smiles, and his ears turn red.
He goes for it for the rest of the ride, voice back to its normal volume. He plays it up, trying to make Eddie laugh while they’re waiting for traffic lights to change. Catches his eye and damn near trills, “I feel fizzy and funny and fine, and so pretty, Miss America can just resign.”
And of course, Eddie laughs. Feels his stomach swoop. He knows what this feeling is. Oh, he knows.
As the West Side Story tribute ends, Steve’s voice drops back to his normal register. Turns gentle and sincere as he glances at his wing mirror and sings, almost to himself, “For I’m loved by a pretty wonderful boy.”
Yes, Eddie thinks, you are, you are, you are.
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Shovel Talk(s) Part 2
Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four
Nobody in the history of the world has ever referred to Eddie as jubilant but that was certainly the best word for him currently. Eddie has survived the apocalypse (even if barely), been proven innocent for the murders (the Upside Down exploding into Hawkins helped), and he has a boyfriend. It makes Eddie feel like he's floating.
Steve drops him off, walks him up to the porch, and gives him the sweetest kiss goodbye. Eddie doesn't go inside right away because he wants to watch Steve as he leaves and maybe blow him an exaggerated kiss as he drives away.
"Glad that boy finally did something about how pathetic you were being," Wayne says in lieu of a greeting when Eddie finally slips in the front door and into the living room, plopping himself on the other end of the sofa, dragging one of the throw pillows that came with the couch into his lap to clutch onto. Ground him, because he's still floating.
"I was not being pathetic!" Eddie is scandalized.
Wayne lets out a wistful sigh and says, in a poor imitation of Eddie's voice, "when will Steve end my suffering and notice me."
Eddie lunges across the couch with the pillow in hand, whacking Wayne with every word he speaks, while also trying to dodge Wayne trying to grab the pillow from him, "I do not sound like that!"
Wayne tricks him into thinking the pillow is his only goal and before he realizes what's happening, Wayne has him in a headlock, dragging both of them off the couch as he stands, giving Eddie the gentlest noogie of his life. "I think I know how you sound, hearin' you bellyache for the last 13 years. I've had to hear your relentless sighing and bemoaning about Steve for at least six of 'em."
Eddie beats him with the pillow more until Wayne releases the headlock and then they wrestle until his uncle fakes hurt, so Eddie backs down quickly, and Wayne steals the pillow and beats him back onto the couch until Eddie yields.
"That was dirty fighting, old man," Eddie says when he finally stops laughing enough to catch his breath.
"What was it you used to tell me, when I said you were fightin' dirty?" Wayne asks, "Scrappy."
"Oh, is that what you think you are?" Eddie swings at Wayne's knee half-heartedly. Wayne flings himself across the room and into the recliner there like Eddie shoved him. "Oh, you big baby."
"You're awfully callus about bullying your old man," Wayne chuckles and settles into the recliner, popping the leg rest out. "Now, tell me about your boy. He was a gentleman to you?"
Eddie pouts, "Unfortunately, yes. One chaste kiss and then he was off."
"Smart boy."
Eddie narrows his eyes. "What's the supposed to mean?"
"Means I scare him."
"What."
"That a question or a statement, son?" Wayne looks awfully smug over in his chair.
"What do you mean you scare him?"
"Just gave him the good ole father shovel talk. Y'know? Hurt my boy and I'll make you disappear," Wayne says.
"You terrible old man!" Eddie throws his pillow at him but Wayne bats it out of the air. "I'm going to die a virgin and it'll be your fault!"
Wayne just shrugs. "Fine by me."
"You are the worst."
-
Eddie can't make his leg stop jiggling. He feels sorry for Nancy, who is sharing the bench seat with him because he's sure that it's shaking the whole bench. He's filled with energy and doesn't know what to do with it.
Robin sits across from them, finishing up the last of her milkshake as they wait for the to go order they're going to drop off for Steve, who is stuck at Family Video for another five hours. He was supposed to be here, too, but Keith called him asking him to cover and he'd said yes. Eddie wishes he hadn't. This was Lunch Date Day.
"Are you still upset Steve took an extra shift?" Nancy asks. "Even though you know he's just going to spend the extra money on you?"
Eddie's pouting, voice whiny as he says, "I'd rather he be heeeerrrrrrrre."
"It's disgusting how in love you are," Robin says, shoving the now completely empty milkshake glass away.
Eddie's leg stops shaking because he full on freezes. "Uh."
"Are you afraid of saying the L-word? You are not subtle in showing it," Nancy says, ever the traitor, "but luckily Steve's just as smitten."
"You don't know that," Eddie says, arguing for the sake of arguing. He doesn't believe he likes Steve more than Steve likes him. He's pretty sure they're on an even playing field.
"Yeah, I do. I threatened to shoot him if he hurt you and he didn't even flinch. He'd have taken the bullet for you."
"You did what!?" Robin yelps. She's looking at Nancy like she's grown a second head.
"I didn't even bring a gun with me! Besides, Steve knows I didn't mean it," Nancy says with a wave of her hand, "it was just an obligation thing. You have to threaten your best friend's significant other. The whole conversation was like, 30 seconds tops."
"I'm your best friend!?" Eddie gasps, faking surprise. They have become good friends. She'd taken it upon herself to make sure he did get to graduate with Robin and herself, and they did form a sort of friendship from that. Also, from being the collective third wheel to Steve&Robin, which is enough to make people come together. Neither of them truly thinks of the other as their best friend, but it's fun to joke about their own Capitol with a P Platonic Friendship around Steve and Robin, as they become rather bitchy and defensive about their own friendship.
It's hilarious every time.
"Well, it's you or Argyle, and I don't think Jonathan wants to share his best friend, so...."
"Cold, Wheeler. Cold."
Nancy rolls her eyes and looks over to Robin. "Are you telling me you haven't given Eddie the shovel talk?"
Robin frowns as she thinks before her eyes widen in shock and she gasps, "I think I accidentally gave Steve a shovel talk instead."
Eddie bursts out laughing, "Robin, how the fuck did you end up accidentally giving a shovel talk to your own best friend?"
"I just told him to, like, be careful with you."
"Careful with me?" Eddie asks, a little incredulously. "What the fuck does that mean?"
Robin is going on the defensive, now. Eddie can see that in the way she squares her shoulders before saying, "it was said after your first date! Steve's had a lot of those, and you hadn't. I just- I dunno, wanted him to see the importance of that."
"So, what, you told him you'd shoot him if he hurt me, like Wheeler here?"
"No! I never said I'd hurt him for hurting you. I just said that he should be careful with you because, as your first boyfriend, if, and I did mean if, you don't work out, it's like... he's setting the precedent for how boyfriends should treat you. What you'll put with with, y'know?"
"That's sweet-" Nancy starts but Eddie's speaking over her just a quickly.
"Robin, that's stupid. I'm a fucking adult. If I'm not being treated how I want to be treated, I'll tell Steve," Eddie huffs. "You can trust that I say what I mean."
"Can I?" Robin shoots back. "Just like when you promised to get the fuck outta dodge and instead went on a suicide mission that ended very, very badly for you?"
"That was different, Buckley," Eddie hisses at her, sitting up straight to lean more across the table, trying to get in her face, "there was a lot of shit happening, and no way out that I saw. It's called trauma!"
It seems that a defensive Robin goes straight for the jugular because she hisses back, "No, actually, I think it's called survivors guilt and suicidal ideation. You know what, I should be giving you a shovel talk! 'Cause I don't fully trust you to not hurt Steve, either by lying or running once things get rough. You don't-"
"OKAY!" Nancy shouts, startling both of them into silence with one word. "We are in an, admittedly very empty, diner but still a very public diner, so let's not. Robin, you're not Steve's mom, it's not on you to look out for who is going to hurt him or-"
"You do not get to speak to me about hurting him," Robin points an accusing finger at Nancy. For all the anger she seemed to have for Eddie just now, he can see that it's almost doubled for Nancy. "I wasn't Steve's friend when you hurt him, but don't think I don't know every detail."
He knows this story, too. Had gotten it out of Steve one night, weeks ago now, when they'd been passing a joint back and forth on Eddie's bed. Before Eddie can pipe up, not that he knows what he'd say anyway, the waitress returns with the to go box and the check.
"It's my turn to pay," Nancy says, snatching the check before it touches the table, following hot on the waitress's heels to the register.
"Ugh," Robin flings herself against the back of the bench, both hands coming up to hide her face. From beneath her hiding place, she says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. What I said was unfair, and uncalled for."
"We're cool, Robin," Eddie says, "I forget how much of a buffer for our anxieties Steve is until we all hang out without him. He's able to defuse an argument before it happens."
"Oh, don't word it like that," Robin drops her hands and slides out of the booth, scooping up the to go box in the process," it makes Steve sound like the emotionally mature one."
They all climb into Nancy's car and apologies are said but Eddie feels like the next time Steve can't make it, they'll all bail on the weekly lunch. They're just a bunch of traumatized young adults and Steve is the heart of them, the person that bonds them outside the shit they went through. And maybe they should figure out a better way to deal with this than just pretending it didn't happen but- well, the world just kept moving on and they had to either move with it or get left behind.
-
It's two weeks after Eddie and Steve accidentally told the Hellfire crew they were a couple, which is why Eddie is not expecting it when Erica and Lucas corner him. He was expecting to be cornered by someone last week.
They'd been taking longer to pack up than usual, and that should have tipped Eddie off that something was up.
"Munson," Erica says in her no-nonsense voice, hands on her hips, face unamused. For sharing no biology with Steve, Eddie finds the resemblance uncanny. "I need you to understand that you might be my Dungeon Master, but Scoops Troop will always trump that, so if you fuck this up with Steve, you will have to answer to me."
Eddie gives a soft grin in response, amused, "no worries, Lady Applejack. I have no plans to fuck this up."
Erica's eyes flick to Lucas, then back to Eddie. "I mean it, Munson. I have it on good authority that sometimes you hurt people and then you don't try to right it. You just move on-"
"Erica, stop it," Lucas says, voice a little panicked.
But Erica continues, because nothing ever seems to phase her, "and Steve and Lucas are alike in that way. So just know that if you hurt Steve like you hurt Lucas-"
"Erica!"
"I will end you. I will ruin your life, Munson-"
"Erica, STOP!" Lucas finally steps forward, yanking on Erica's arm to get her to stop talking. It makes her stumble a bit before rounding on Lucas. "Stop it."
"No!" Erica glares at her brother as she removes his hand from her arm. "Go outside if you don't want to hear it."
They stare each other down and Eddie's not sure what he should be doing. Should he step in? He grew up an only child, is this normal sibling behavior? But he doesn't have to step in because Lucas huffs and storms out of the house, front door clicking softly behind him even though Eddie expected him to slam the door.
"Now, you," Erica whirls around to Eddie, "do you understand what I'm saying?"
Eddie does not. He's fairly certain he's getting a shovel talk from a twelve-year-old and while amusing, he senses there's more to it than just his relationship with Steve. "You're threatening me on Steve's behalf?"
Erica scoffs and rolls her eyes like she thinks Eddie's an idiot. He's starting to think he might be. "Yes, I am but also more. Your relationship has been the hot topic these days, and my brother brought up a good point but he's too nice to say it, so I will. When school starts, if Steve wants to take you to a basketball game, even though they fall on Hellfire night, you postpone the damn game and you go. No matter how much you hate basketball or jocks or- or... other things." She loses steam at the end, eyes flicking to the door.
"What?" Eddie is even more confused, "I don't hate basketball. And if Steve asks, I'm not going to say no, okay? I care about Steve. A lot."
Erica frowns, which contradicts the words that leave her mouth. "Good. That's good. I'd hate to ruin you, Munson."
"Is there... more to it?"
It takes Erica maybe three seconds to decide what she's going to say. Just long enough for her to look at the door, then back to Eddie. "You owe my brother an apology."
"Uh, sure, I'll apologize but for what?"
"Remember the basketball championship and the last session of the Vecna campaign that you wouldn't postpone so Lucas could play? You never apologized," Erica crosses her arms, another move reminiscent of Steve, before continuing, "You didn't apologize, and Lucas thought that it was because he's a jock, and you hate jocks. But now you're dating Steve and he's a jock. So, if you don't hate jocks, Lucas thinks you just hate him."
"What, no, I don't hate Lucas!"
"Then tell him that!" Erica glares at him, "and let this be a little lesson for you. Going forward if you hurt either of my brothers, intentionally or not, you can kiss the tires on your van goodbye."
Eddie tucks his metaphorical tail between his legs and goes outside to apologize, because Lucas deserves to hear it.
Then, once the Sinclairs are gone and Eddie's back in his room, he runs through every conversation he can remember having with Steve. Has he dismissed things Steve liked too easily, too often? Has he said anything offhandedly that could be taken the wrong way without explanation?
Eddie's was an only child and didn't have to grow up worrying about anyone but himself. He made himself an outcast and shunned the 'norm' by choice. Doing so didn't exactly let him learn the social graces of patience and understanding.
It's eye opening, to learn that a decision he made months ago without a second thought has been hurting Lucas this whole time.
Has he ever done that to Steve, and not known it?
-
Steve's been distant these past few days and no matter how many times Eddie asks, Steve's answer doesn't change. I'm fine he says. I'm fine. Just fine. It's fine.
Except nothing feels fine. And Eddie doesn't understand the sharp change. They've got a date planned for tonight. Neither of them has specifically said it out loud, because it's sappy and stupid, but it marks three full months as official boyfriends. So, they've got a date planned, but Eddie's worried how it might end.
Eddie's been floating these last three months, but he suddenly feels grounded. He can't fix whatever happened if Steve won't tell him what it was! And in the absence of actual answers, Eddie's mind has invented his own.
Steve's realized that Eddie's not good enough for him. Steve's realized that he's actually straight, but thanks for the experimentation. Steve's found someone else and is working on how to break up with Eddie without blowing up their friend group in the process.
And Eddie hates himself for thinking these things. For projecting his own insecurities onto a version of Steve that doesn't exist. Eddie's gotten to know Steve.
Or he thought he had.
But now he's pulling away. And the only person he knows he can talk to about dating Steve is Nancy and he can't do that! He can't just go to Nancy's house and ask 'so when you were dating Steve and it was all going down the drain, was he distant or is that just a me thing?'
Fuck. Fuck!
He runs his hands through his hair and regrets it as his curls tangle around the rings on his hands. He should brush his hair, be getting ready, but he's procrastinating that because he can't decide if he's going all out, making himself look his best to see if it'll bring some life back into Steve's eyes when he looks at him, or if he shouldn't try at all and see if Steve even notices he's wearing the same thing he wore yesterday.
And it's bullshit that he's even thinking about testing Steve. Not two months ago he and Robin had argued in that diner about whether he's talk to Steve about these kind of things or not and now he was kind of proving her right. Except not, because he did try to talk! Steve just didn't answer when he questioned, and you can't really build a conversation from nothing.
Fuck! He should have known this would happen. That he would fall in love and Steve wouldn't love him back because that's always been his lot in life.
Oh.
Oh no.
He's been avoiding thinking it because once it's been thought, once it's solidified in his mind, it's true. And now he's thought it!
He's in love with Steve Harrington.
And isn't it just fuckin' peachy that this realization doesn't accompany happy feelings. He's in love and can't even be happy about it because he's so fucking sure his relationship is ending tonight.
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imfinereallyy · 7 months
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Passengers
It took Robin three years to get her license. Which all things considered, the twice apocalyptic experiences, and, ya know, being poor, wasn’t too bad in her opinion.
20 was as good as any age to get behind the wheel of a vehicle.
Okay, if she was honest with herself, really honest, maybe her calculations were off. It wasn’t three years exactly. She could have gotten her license at 16; hell, she could have gotten her permit at 15. So it quite honestly had taken four, five years max to get her license.
But the first two years didn’t count to Robin.
She didn’t even give a thought to driving until she was 17, and Steve was driving her every day without question. She hadn’t thought about it until Steve threw his keys at her, telling her to drive, that Robin realized he was driving her every day because he wanted to, not because she was a license-less loser.
It cracked Robin open when she finally had time to think about it. After all the blood, and gore, and almost losing Steve several times, it hit her that this dingus really wanted her by his side.
So, Steve was really to blame if she ever got into a car accident. Sure, he didn’t push her to get behind the metal contraption, but Robin wanted to pay him back somehow, for all the rides and love over the years.
That was how now, Robin was seething in regret as she drove the rest of the way home, in the dark, from their road trip.
See, when Robin had pictured them doing things like this, it had just been the two of them. Steve in the passenger seat, arguing over music and the best car snacks. Windows down, yelling about who fucking cares, and just laughing their way through different states.
Robin hadn’t taken into account there might be other people involved in her bestie road trip fantasies. No, instead, it wasn’t the terrible two, platonic soulmate extravaganza she pictured. Instead it now involved them, Steve’s ex-turned-best friend, whom Robin had a horrible crush on, Nancy Wheeler, and a sweet metalhead who Robin saw as a brother, and Steve had a huge soul-consuming crush on Eddie Munson.
Robin begrudgingly would admit the additional two had made the trip better, so she didn’t have too many complaints. Actually, in reality, Robin only had one big hang-up about the whole thing.
Steve was in the back seat.
Which would have been fine if Robin had been there too, but she wasn’t. It was her stupid turn to drive in the home stretch of their way home. Instead, Robin had Nancy beside her. Which should have brought her joy but instead made her nervous and clammy and not at all suited to be behind the wheel of the death contraption they called a car. Plus, Nancy was asleep.
Her snores were pretty cute though.
Robin seethed silently; it was Eddie’s fault. He positively insisted on sitting with Steve in the back. Something which Robin would normally tease the both of them for, the oblivious idiots that they were, but Robin was a possessive little creature. It was a trait of hers she tried to bury deep down. She knew people didn’t like that; they didn’t like when people clung. Didn’t like that she felt like baring her teeth, even sometimes wanted to actually bite at people who tried to pry her people away from her.
It was funny, really; the only person who understood that part of her was Steve himself, which made her possessive side come out even more. Like seeks like, and crazy seeks crazy.
God, if she was every lucky enough to get a girlfriend, she was screwed.
Robin had resisted looking in the review mirror for twenty minutes. Probably not safe, but driving angrily wasn’t either, and if she saw the two of them giggling like school girls, she was gonna flip the car.
But Robin was never good at resisting temptation. She was most definitely the child who would touch the plate after someone told her it was too hot. So Robin took a glance, shoulders tense and mouth dry, and saw—
Well, shit. Robin melted. There in the back seat with their heads leaned against each other were Steve and Eddie, sound asleep.
The edges of Robin softened; she remembered Steve pinching his nose earlier, eyes squinting on his turn to drive. She had been in the passenger seat then. She had wanted to ask but instead said nothing, knowing he would wave her off. So she claimed her turn to drive, and then Eddie had been insistent that Steve come in the back with him and—
Robin was getting it now. Although Eddie had a big fat gay crush on Steve. That wasn’t why he wanted to be with Steve in the back. He had noticed, too. The edges of sleep deprivation creeping slowly into an oncoming migraine for Steve. Eddie had seen Steve pushing himself, and somehow also knew that if Steve stayed in the front, he would feel obligated to stay awake.
Robin hadn’t realized that, Eddie didn’t just want Steve; he paid attention to him. Eddie noticed Steve the way Robin noticed him.
Robin spared another glance at the two of them, wrapped around each other like vines snaking up an old oak tree. The last of her anger seemed to fade away. Even after all this time, none of them got a lot of sleep. Steve, most of all, seemed to run on fumes. Robin knew he couldn’t sleep soundly alone, but also couldn’t fall asleep around just anyone. For a long time, Robin had been his only cure for his insomnia. Steve never dared to fall asleep in front of strangers, afraid he’d scare them with his screams.
But here Steve was, in the arms of the man that he loves, not a single worry line on his face as he slept the rest of the trip away.
Robin knew, with certainty, Steve felt safe.
And because of that, Robin thought wistfully to herself, if Eddie Munson ever wants a turn at being a passenger, she wouldn’t mind taking the wheel for him, too.
***
a short lil thing to get me back in my writing grove. Is inspired by a friend of mine who is in her 20s and doesn’t drive. It’s totally okay and everyone moves at their own pace! And also I’m definitely a person who likes to drive others around as a sign of love (I am Steve coded I am beginning to realize)
Sorry if this isn’t any good, or seems rushed. Writers block is a bitch.
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