steddie brainrot @holdinsteddie - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
steddie brainrot
@holdinsteddie
they/them/he/him || made in the 90s || i caught steddie brainrot disease and its terminal || sometimes i write, sometimes i moodboard, sometimes i yeet my consciousness into the void || @alittleunsteddie on bluesky & prebioticmystery on ao3
I am WAY more active over on bluesky so you’ll find the most up-to-date stuff over there, but I’m going to try my best and get everything cross-posted over here as well!
✨ WRITING GAMES ✨
These are ongoing writing prompt games! Feel free to submit a prompt and I’ll get to it when I can 💖
send me a 📷 and a one-word prompt and i’ll make you a moodboard and a lil concept to go with it!
send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!
✨ MY WRITING / CONTENT ✨
🦝 AO3 FICS 🦝
it’s getting better all the time || steddie || T || 3.5k
lonely little forest dancer || steddie || T || 7.5k
🦝 MICROFICS/FICLETS 🦝
mob boss eddie (part 1, part 2) || “trouble” || “lollipop” || “comfort” || “forest” || “polaroid” || "neck-kisses" || “scarf” || “iceberg” || “dress”
🦝 CONCEPTS/IDEAS 🦝
stevie sandwich || cotton-candy steddie || (don’t) fear the reaper || hairdresser!steve vs. rockstar!eddie || “glowstars” (eddie x gareth) || “nostalgia” || post s4 steve gets vecna’d || the second hand unwinds || steddie Star Trek au || steddie x-men fusion || “smell”
au where Steve and Robin had their bathroom floor conversation/platonic soulmate initiation ceremony way back in 1983, like two weeks after Jonathan rocked Steve’s shit and by the time everyone gets back from winter break they’ve become SteveandRobin.
Steve knows all about Robin’s crush on Tammy Thompson and Robin knows all about the fact that Steve thinks one Eddie Munson is really pretty, actually, when he’s not being a grubby little gremlin.
In this au, Steve and Nancy mutually broke it off after the whole monster-fighting thing and so for the next few months after break, SteveandRobin try to wingman each other but also the ‘you rule/you suck’ board makes an appearance, this time in an unused corner of the band room.
So far Steve hasn’t gotten a single tally in the ‘you rule’ column. He is deeply offended by this and is trying to figure out why he seems to have lost his mojo. He needs to prove to Robin that he is very suave, actually, and no, his reputation is not a fluke. Jesus.
Which leads us to a Thursday evening in late May where band practice is getting out at the same time as Hellfire club. Steve suddenly finds himself being possessed by the ghost of Casanova himself or something because the next thing he knows, he’s abandoning Robin with a quick “be right back” and swaggering up to Eddie, who eyes Steve warily before leaning up against the side of the school building with a smirk paired with a dangerous glint in his eye.
“Hey, Munson,” Steve starts, keeping it causal.
Eddie pulls the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth with a wet pop and Steve fervently doesn’t have any feelings about that whatsoever.
“Steve Harrington,” he purrs. “What can this lowly peasant do for such esteemed royalty as yourself, hmm?”
Steve raises a single eyebrow. “Well, first of all, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly Hawkins High royalty anymore. Apparently jocks and band geeks can’t be friends,” Steve adds with a roll of his eyes.
“Second of all…” Steve glances left and right, making sure there’s no one in earshot before giving Eddie a once-over and taking a deliberate step forward so the toes of their shoes are almost touching. “I think we both know you’re too pretty and too smart to be stuck as a peasant.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide for a moment before narrowing, his dimpled grin somehow managing to be sharp as a knife. “Careful, big boy. You don’t wanna play this game.”
“Who says this is a game?”
Eddie scoffs, putting his lollipop back in his mouth and straightening like he’s going to move past Steve, but Steve stops him with a hand to the wall behind Eddie’s head.
He makes sure to leave enough room for Eddie to be able to walk away if he really wants to, doesn’t want him to feel trapped or pressured in any way. But he also wants Eddie to know he’s being serious.
“Look, you can tell me to fuck off if you really want, and I will, swear to god.”
Eddie stares at him with wide eyes and slowly nods his head.
“But I really hope you don’t,” Steve continues, leaning forward until their noses are just inches from touching, “because it turns out I really have a thing for curly-headed nerds.”
Steve relishes in the way Eddie’s jaw drops open and a blush works its way over his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. It’s really fucking cute.
“I know I can’t exactly wine-and-dine you like if you were a girl, but maybe I could get us some pizza and beers and you could come over to my place one of these days?”
Steve raises his eyebrows, trying to only let a little bit of his excitement at the idea through — he doesn’t want to scare Eddie off.
Eddie stares for a moment, two. Eventually, he blurts, “Is— Is this— Are you being serious right now?” He hadn’t bothered to take out the lollipop before speaking, seems like he’s completely frozen, actually, making the question slightly garbled.
“As a heart attack.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“So?” Steve asks, biting his lower lip. He watches Eddie track the movement and gives himself a mental high-five.
“I’m— fuck, okay.” Eddie looks at Steve’s lips again before looking into his eyes incredulously. “I’m pretty sure this is a dream, but whatever, fuck it, I’ll go on a date with Steve goddamn Harrington, I guess.”
“Not dreaming,” Steve grins, finally leaning back a little bit. “And I’m gonna hold you to that,” he promises. On a whim, he reaches out and plucks Eddie’s lollipop from between his lips before placing it in his own mouth, making sure to maintain eye contact the entire time. Eddie’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he visibly swallows.
“Uh.”
“I’ll find you at lunch tomorrow, figure out what day works,” Steve says casually, leaning back and starting to walk backwards towards the parking lot. He points the lollipop at Eddie and commands, “Better not stand me up, Munson,” before putting it back in his mouth, shoving his hands in his pockets, and turning to walk back to where Robin is waiting by his car.
He doesn’t look back, even though he really really wants to, because he still wants to make sure he looks cool and aloof.
“Steven Marie,” Robin whisper yells once he’s close enough to hear her. “What the fuck was that? What did you do to Munson?”
Steve ignores her questions. “What’s he doing, Bobbie?”
Robin, bless her, answers him. “He’s just… standing there. And now he’s pulling his hair over his face and squatting. Did you break him?”
Steve grins, pleased. “Not yet.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Wait, where did you get the lollipop? You didn’t have one a few minutes ago.”
“I might’ve stolen it from Munson, right after I got him to agree to go on a date with me.”
Robin freezes, staring at him like she’s buffering as her entire worldview gets rearranged. “Steve, Stevie, I need you to know I’m so happy for you and proud of you. But also I am going to actually strangle you to death in your sleep what the actual fuck.”
“Love you too, Robs.”
+ Bonus:
Steve, 5 min later after he’s started driving to drop Robin off at home: ohmygod. Robin.
Robin: What.
Steve: Eddie and I basically kissed.
Robin: What?????
Steve: His spit is in my mouth as we speak.
Robin: wHAT??!!!?!!!
Steve: Robin stop screaming I’m having a crisis
{send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil steddie microfic for you! (it will almost certainly be much shorter than this one but who knows, i might get Inspired™️)}
and then some more words: i would love to add more At Some Point i just don’t know when that’ll be bc i’m a silly goose that loves coming up with more ideas even though i have a big bang fic to focus on :’)
Steve would be endeared at the pet name, except Eddie had a marker clenched between his teeth, so it was more a garbled bunch of syllables that sounded vaguely like “c’m ‘ere s’eet h’rt”
(Steve was absolutely still endeared, but he wasn’t going to admit it.)
Before Steve could say anything, Eddie grabbed his bicep and pulled, causing Steve to stumble into Eddie’s lap where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
While Steve was only wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants after a quick shower in Eddie’s tiny trailer bathroom, Eddie was wearing an oversized long sleeve shirt (Steve’s) and a pair stained grey sweatpants, his long curls pulled back in a low ponytail.
“Eds, what—“
“Hold still,” Eddie commanded, the cap of the marker still clenched between his teeth as he used one hand to uncap it while the other still firmly held onto Steve’s bicep.
The tip of the marker was cold, causing Steve to jump a little as Eddie started to drag it across his skin, drawing a series of firm lines starting at the ball of his shoulder and working their way across his shoulder blade and toward the center of his back.
Eddie’s brow was furrowed in concentration, and Steve took the moment to let himself stare unselfconsciously. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of looking at Eddie’s face. He was always so expressive, his face animated in way like no one else Steve knew.
Looking at Eddie felt like looking at a study of what it meant to be alive — and for someone who sometimes felt like more a mausoleum than a man, Steve was endlessly enraptured.
Even in moments like this, where Eddie was simply concentrating on something, he could still see all the life in the stillness, the passion in his deep brown eyes that never went out.
Steve could only hope to have half as much of the fire that Eddie did.
Eddie finally lets go of Steve long enough for him to spit the cap of the marker into his palm and snap it closed with a flourish. “There! All finished.”
Eddie’s self-satisfied grin tugs at a very specific corner of Steve’s heart, and he knows he’s stupidly love with the man because he has the sudden realization that Eddie could have just drawn a bunch of dicks all over him and he’d still be hopelessly endeared.
He’d throw a bitch-fit, of course, but that wouldn’t stop his heart from feeling like it was fit to burst with affection.
Raising a brow, Steve asks, “What’cha doing there, Eds?”
“Just had to prove something to myself,” Eddie murmurs, still staring at whatever he drew across Steve’s back.
“Yeah? What’d you have to prove, Picasso?”
Eddie snorts a little and finally looks at Steve, a twinkle in his eyes as he says, “That my baby is full of stardust.”
That wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and he doesn’t know what kind of expression he makes, can only watch the way that Eddie’s softens in response.
“You’ve got a whole galaxy on you,” Eddie continues, “and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the different constellations your moles make, so.” He shrugs and holds up the marker, wiggling it in his fingers. “Had to map them out.”
“Oh.” There are so many different things that Steve is feeling all at once that he’s having a hard time processing. His thoughts are flashing across his mind too quickly for him to catch and put into words.
If I have constellations, then you’re all the space in-between, bringing life to all the empty inside me.
Stars have always felt so far away, but I look at you and feel like I have the sun in my arms.
You make my heart feel like it’s gone supernova and I want to let it consume me.
If I’m full of stardust, then you’re the heaven that all the stars are searching for.
“Eds?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Eddie grins at him, soft and sweet and forget the sun — Steve wants his world to revolve around that grin.
“Love you too, Starshine.”
~~~~~~
*30 min later*
Steve: Eddie… did you draw on me with permanent marker?
Eddie: What? No, it’s one of those washable… *slowly realizes he did, in fact, accidentally use a sharpie* uhm. Oops?
Steve: *deep sigh* You’d better sleep with one eye open, Munson, or you’re gonna wake up with a permanent dick on your face.
Eddie: *winks* As long as it’s yours, Darling, I don’t mind.
Steve: Jesus Christ.
.
.
.
send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!
Steve never knew that neck kisses could be... soft.
Before, kisses on the neck meant something hot and heavy -- meant a kind of desire that comes with a voracious appetite, a hungry kind of want that attacks with teeth and tongue in equal measure. They were kisses purely carnal, sticky and sloppy with passion.
And it wasn't like they were bad kisses. No, they were very much extremely good, extremely enjoyable kisses.
But.
As he's grown into young adulthood, Steve's realized that he craves a tender kind of love. One that isn't spur of the moment, but is instead full of knowing. He needs a love that goes deeper than just lips on skin, needs a love that roots itself in his ribcage deep enough to survive the winter. Every winter.
And miracle of miracles, he thinks he's found it in one Eddie Munson.
God, he hadn't expected someone so wild and full of life to be able to hold Steve's heart so gently, to be able to cup callused palms together and cradle the heart that Steve can't help but wear on his sleeve -- to treat Steve like he was something precious and worth holding carefully.
Even now, as they lay together in bed, the golden glow of morning just beginning to dawn, Eddie holds Steve like a treasured thing. Half-awake, he greets Steve with all the love and tenderness he'd never felt deserving of, before. He presses gentle kisses to Steve's neck, planting seed after seed in a garden that's never been so full of life.
Mornin', Eds.
Mmm. G'morning, Sweetheart.
Whatcha doin'?
A smile like a twinkling star. Working on my astronomy.
What?
Your constellations. A kiss to one mole, two. A freckle here, a freckle there. Gotta make sure I know each and every one of your stars.
send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!
The first time Eddie caught Steve wearing a dress, he hadn’t been sure how to react at first.
Hellfire had finished early, and he’d decided to surprise Steve with some takeout from the cheap Chinese place downtown.
He’d walked into the trailer to hear ABBA blasting from his room, and with a fond roll of his eyes, he’d gone down to his room to greet Steve, only to stop short.
Instead of his usual polo and jeans combo, Steve was wearing a dress.
It was a short-sleeved pastel thing, with the hem going to just below Steve’s knees, and a collar and buttons going down the front.
Steve must not have heard him come in because he hadn’t looked away from his reflection in Eddie’s mirror, bottom lip caught in his teeth.
Eddie cleared his throat. “Steve?”
Steve jumped about a foot in the air, turning to look at Eddie with so much terror in his eyes that Eddie’s heart broke.
“Fuck! Eddie, I— it’s not— please don’t—“
Eddie didn’t hesitate to cross the room and cradle Steve’s face in his hands.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay, Stevie, it’s okay. Just take some deep breaths for me, Darling, everything’s okay, I promise.”
“Eddie,” Steve pleaded, gripping Eddie’s wrists like a lifeline. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t—“
Eddie cuts Steve off with a kiss to his forehead. “Stevie, baby, don’t apologize. Don’t apologize, okay?” Tears have started leaking out of Steve’s closed eyes, each one giving a viscious tug to Eddie’s heartstrings. “Baby, can you look at me? Please?”
It takes a moment before Steve sniffs and opens his eyes, more tears dripping down his cheeks as he looks at Eddie with trepidation. Eddie wipes them away with his thumbs as he murmurs, “Hi, baby.”
“Hi,” Steve croaks back.
Eddie gives him a gentle grin. For a moment, Eddie doesn’t say anything else, just continues to hold Steve’s face in his palms and wipe away the tears that continue to fall. Steve looks less terrified now, but there’s a sort of sad resignation taking over his expression that Eddie absolutely hates.
Eddie makes sure to keep his eyes locked on Steve’s, meaning every word as he says, “I think your dress is really pretty, Stevie.”
A million and one expressions flash across Steve’s face in the span of a moment. “What?”
“Do you think it’s pretty?”
Eddie watches Steve search his expression like he’s trying to figure out what the right answer is supposed to be.
“Eds,” Steve starts, “I’m not supposed to—“
“Ah ah ah, nope,” Eddie cuts in. “I don’t give a fuck about ‘supposed to’. I give a fuck about you.” Eddie presses another gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead. “So tell me, and be honest, baby — do you think the dress is pretty?”
Steve’s hands are shaking where he continues to hold on to Eddie’s wrists. “Yes,” he whispers.
“And do you like wearing it?”
Steve closes his eyes and nods like the admission is a death sentence.
“Then that’s all that matters, baby,” Eddie promises, tucking Steve’s face into his neck and pulling Steve into a tight embrace. He uses one hand to cradle the back of Steve’s head and uses his other arm to wrap around Steve’s back, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his shaking back.
“If wearing dresses makes you happy, then I’m gonna buy you all the dresses you want, okay? Gonna have the prettiest baby in all of Hawkins.”
Steve makes a wounded noise, and Eddie holds him tighter, not letting go until they’re both tired of standing. Even then, he only detaches long enough to get Steve comfortably situated in his bed before he’s once again wrapping himself around Steve. They stay the night like that, takeout long forgotten as Eddie whispers reassurances until they fall asleep.
Two weeks later, Eddie hands Steve a shopping bag with a quick “got you something” and watches with his heart in his throat as Steve pulls out the yellow dress Eddie found for him at the discount clothing store. The moment he’d seen it, it had immediately reminded him of Steve and his favorite yellow sweater, and he’d bought it for Steve without even thinking about it.
Steve hasn’t really moved since he realized what he was holding, just stared at the dress before slowly rubbing the white lace trim with his thumb and pointer finger.
Eddie is so scared of messing this up, of having already messed it up, that he chokes back the avalanche of words trying to spill out of his mouth.
After another long moment of silence, Steve finally says something.
“You meant it?”
“Huh?”
Steve swallows visibly. “When you— when you said it was okay that I liked—“ Steve takes a fortifying breath. “That I like to wear dresses, and that it’s okay if it makes me happy.” Steve finally looks at Eddie, eyes full of shock and hope. “You meant it?”
“Of course I meant it,” Eddie promises. He finally lets himself move, striding forward and tucking Steve against his chest. “Stevie, baby, I love you so much and I just want you to be happy.”
Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s back and squeezes so hard that it hurts, but Eddie doesn’t say anything. Just keeps holding Steve until Steve eventually pulls back, surreptitiously wiping his eyes before leaning his head on Eddie’s shoulder and looking down at the dress resting in his lap.
“The yellow is really pretty,” Steve murmurs.
Eddie hums in agreement. “Made me think of you the moment I laid eyes on it.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s temple, letting his lips linger there as he murmurs, “my pretty little sunshine.”
.
.
.
send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!
Steve would be endeared at the pet name, except Eddie had a marker clenched between his teeth, so it was more a garbled bunch of syllables that sounded vaguely like “c’m ‘ere s’eet h’rt”
(Steve was absolutely still endeared, but he wasn’t going to admit it.)
Before Steve could say anything, Eddie grabbed his bicep and pulled, causing Steve to stumble into Eddie’s lap where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
While Steve was only wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants after a quick shower in Eddie’s tiny trailer bathroom, Eddie was wearing an oversized long sleeve shirt (Steve’s) and a pair stained grey sweatpants, his long curls pulled back in a low ponytail.
“Eds, what—“
“Hold still,” Eddie commanded, the cap of the marker still clenched between his teeth as he used one hand to uncap it while the other still firmly held onto Steve’s bicep.
The tip of the marker was cold, causing Steve to jump a little as Eddie started to drag it across his skin, drawing a series of firm lines starting at the ball of his shoulder and working their way across his shoulder blade and toward the center of his back.
Eddie’s brow was furrowed in concentration, and Steve took the moment to let himself stare unselfconsciously. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of looking at Eddie’s face. He was always so expressive, his face animated in way like no one else Steve knew.
Looking at Eddie felt like looking at a study of what it meant to be alive — and for someone who sometimes felt like more a mausoleum than a man, Steve was endlessly enraptured.
Even in moments like this, where Eddie was simply concentrating on something, he could still see all the life in the stillness, the passion in his deep brown eyes that never went out.
Steve could only hope to have half as much of the fire that Eddie did.
Eddie finally lets go of Steve long enough for him to spit the cap of the marker into his palm and snap it closed with a flourish. “There! All finished.”
Eddie’s self-satisfied grin tugs at a very specific corner of Steve’s heart, and he knows he’s stupidly love with the man because he has the sudden realization that Eddie could have just drawn a bunch of dicks all over him and he’d still be hopelessly endeared.
He’d throw a bitch-fit, of course, but that wouldn’t stop his heart from feeling like it was fit to burst with affection.
Raising a brow, Steve asks, “What’cha doing there, Eds?”
“Just had to prove something to myself,” Eddie murmurs, still staring at whatever he drew across Steve’s back.
“Yeah? What’d you have to prove, Picasso?”
Eddie snorts a little and finally looks at Steve, a twinkle in his eyes as he says, “That my baby is full of stardust.”
That wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and he doesn’t know what kind of expression he makes, can only watch the way that Eddie’s softens in response.
“You’ve got a whole galaxy on you,” Eddie continues, “and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the different constellations your moles make, so.” He shrugs and holds up the marker, wiggling it in his fingers. “Had to map them out.”
“Oh.” There are so many different things that Steve is feeling all at once that he’s having a hard time processing. His thoughts are flashing across his mind too quickly for him to catch and put into words.
If I have constellations, then you’re all the space in-between, bringing life to all the empty inside me.
Stars have always felt so far away, but I look at you and feel like I have the sun in my arms.
You make my heart feel like it’s gone supernova and I want to let it consume me.
If I’m full of stardust, then you’re the heaven that all the stars are searching for.
“Eds?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Eddie grins at him, soft and sweet and forget the sun — Steve wants his world to revolve around that grin.
“Love you too, Starshine.”
~~~~~~
*30 min later*
Steve: Eddie… did you draw on me with permanent marker?
Eddie: What? No, it’s one of those washable… *slowly realizes he did, in fact, accidentally use a sharpie* uhm. Oops?
Steve: *deep sigh* You’d better sleep with one eye open, Munson, or you’re gonna wake up with a permanent dick on your face.
Eddie: *winks* As long as it’s yours, Darling, I don’t mind.
Steve: Jesus Christ.
.
.
.
send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!
au where Steve and Robin had their bathroom floor conversation/platonic soulmate initiation ceremony way back in 1983, like two weeks after Jonathan rocked Steve’s shit and by the time everyone gets back from winter break they’ve become SteveandRobin.
Steve knows all about Robin’s crush on Tammy Thompson and Robin knows all about the fact that Steve thinks one Eddie Munson is really pretty, actually, when he’s not being a grubby little gremlin.
In this au, Steve and Nancy mutually broke it off after the whole monster-fighting thing and so for the next few months after break, SteveandRobin try to wingman each other but also the ‘you rule/you suck’ board makes an appearance, this time in an unused corner of the band room.
So far Steve hasn’t gotten a single tally in the ‘you rule’ column. He is deeply offended by this and is trying to figure out why he seems to have lost his mojo. He needs to prove to Robin that he is very suave, actually, and no, his reputation is not a fluke. Jesus.
Which leads us to a Thursday evening in late May where band practice is getting out at the same time as Hellfire club. Steve suddenly finds himself being possessed by the ghost of Casanova himself or something because the next thing he knows, he’s abandoning Robin with a quick “be right back” and swaggering up to Eddie, who eyes Steve warily before leaning up against the side of the school building with a smirk paired with a dangerous glint in his eye.
“Hey, Munson,” Steve starts, keeping it causal.
Eddie pulls the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth with a wet pop and Steve fervently doesn’t have any feelings about that whatsoever.
“Steve Harrington,” he purrs. “What can this lowly peasant do for such esteemed royalty as yourself, hmm?”
Steve raises a single eyebrow. “Well, first of all, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly Hawkins High royalty anymore. Apparently jocks and band geeks can’t be friends,” Steve adds with a roll of his eyes.
“Second of all…” Steve glances left and right, making sure there’s no one in earshot before giving Eddie a once-over and taking a deliberate step forward so the toes of their shoes are almost touching. “I think we both know you’re too pretty and too smart to be stuck as a peasant.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide for a moment before narrowing, his dimpled grin somehow managing to be sharp as a knife. “Careful, big boy. You don’t wanna play this game.”
“Who says this is a game?”
Eddie scoffs, putting his lollipop back in his mouth and straightening like he’s going to move past Steve, but Steve stops him with a hand to the wall behind Eddie’s head.
He makes sure to leave enough room for Eddie to be able to walk away if he really wants to, doesn’t want him to feel trapped or pressured in any way. But he also wants Eddie to know he’s being serious.
“Look, you can tell me to fuck off if you really want, and I will, swear to god.”
Eddie stares at him with wide eyes and slowly nods his head.
“But I really hope you don’t,” Steve continues, leaning forward until their noses are just inches from touching, “because it turns out I really have a thing for curly-headed nerds.”
Steve relishes in the way Eddie’s jaw drops open and a blush works its way over his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. It’s really fucking cute.
“I know I can’t exactly wine-and-dine you like if you were a girl, but maybe I could get us some pizza and beers and you could come over to my place one of these days?”
Steve raises his eyebrows, trying to only let a little bit of his excitement at the idea through — he doesn’t want to scare Eddie off.
Eddie stares for a moment, two. Eventually, he blurts, “Is— Is this— Are you being serious right now?” He hadn’t bothered to take out the lollipop before speaking, seems like he’s completely frozen, actually, making the question slightly garbled.
“As a heart attack.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“So?” Steve asks, biting his lower lip. He watches Eddie track the movement and gives himself a mental high-five.
“I’m— fuck, okay.” Eddie looks at Steve’s lips again before looking into his eyes incredulously. “I’m pretty sure this is a dream, but whatever, fuck it, I’ll go on a date with Steve goddamn Harrington, I guess.”
“Not dreaming,” Steve grins, finally leaning back a little bit. “And I’m gonna hold you to that,” he promises. On a whim, he reaches out and plucks Eddie’s lollipop from between his lips before placing it in his own mouth, making sure to maintain eye contact the entire time. Eddie’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he visibly swallows.
“Uh.”
“I’ll find you at lunch tomorrow, figure out what day works,” Steve says casually, leaning back and starting to walk backwards towards the parking lot. He points the lollipop at Eddie and commands, “Better not stand me up, Munson,” before putting it back in his mouth, shoving his hands in his pockets, and turning to walk back to where Robin is waiting by his car.
He doesn’t look back, even though he really really wants to, because he still wants to make sure he looks cool and aloof.
“Steven Marie,” Robin whisper yells once he’s close enough to hear her. “What the fuck was that? What did you do to Munson?”
Steve ignores her questions. “What’s he doing, Bobbie?”
Robin, bless her, answers him. “He’s just… standing there. And now he’s pulling his hair over his face and squatting. Did you break him?”
Steve grins, pleased. “Not yet.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Wait, where did you get the lollipop? You didn’t have one a few minutes ago.”
“I might’ve stolen it from Munson, right after I got him to agree to go on a date with me.”
Robin freezes, staring at him like she’s buffering as her entire worldview gets rearranged. “Steve, Stevie, I need you to know I’m so happy for you and proud of you. But also I am going to actually strangle you to death in your sleep what the actual fuck.”
“Love you too, Robs.”
+ Bonus:
Steve, 5 min later after he’s started driving to drop Robin off at home: ohmygod. Robin.
Robin: What.
Steve: Eddie and I basically kissed.
Robin: What?????
Steve: His spit is in my mouth as we speak.
Robin: wHAT??!!!?!!!
Steve: Robin stop screaming I’m having a crisis
{send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil steddie microfic for you! (it will almost certainly be much shorter than this one but who knows, i might get Inspired™️)}
thank you!!!! and we spitballed a little bit on my original bluesky post about what happens next, but i’d love to actually Write more for it (sadly it almost certainly won’t happen for a while bc i need to focus on my monster of a steddie bb fic lol)
Eddie loses himself for a bit — lets the rage take over until there’s nothing left but the monster he usually keeps locked down deep inside.
He’d never had reason to let it loose before, had been content to keep it under lock and key and pretend to be someone worthy of being loved by Steve.
But he had become too complacent, apparently — had been a little too kind and a little too trusting because if Steve could still see so much good in the world, then maybe he could too.
And Steve — precious, innocent Steve — had been the one to pay the price.
Eddie was never going to make that same fucking mistake ever again.
The next time Eddie is aware of himself, hours later, he is breathing harshly and his arms are wet and sticky.
He looks down to find himself straddling a body, whatever’s left of the person’s face smashed into an unrecognizable, bloody pulp. His hands and arms are completely coated in blood all the way up to his biceps, the partially congealed mess explaining the sticky feeling.
“Boss?”
Eddie glances over to where steel-toed boots have stepped into the pool of blood surrounding the body he’s straddling. He follows the boots up until he sees Gareth’s face, his expression unreadable. “Gareth?”
Eddie watches the tension he hadn’t noticed in Gareth’s shoulders loosen, and he slowly stands up to face him directly.
“That was the last of them,” Gareth nods down to the body before looking Eddie up and down. “I don’t think there’s a shower here, but I could grab you a towel? Some scouts for the other Families are hanging around outside, probably waiting to see who comes out.”
Eddie looks down at himself again. His black jeans and t-shirt hide most of the blood, but his arms are like beacons where the dark red contrasts with his pale skin.
“No, let them see,” Eddie decides. Slowly, he tilts his head left, then right, listening to the satisfying cracks echo in the now-silent warehouse. “Let them see what happens when someone tries to take what’s mine.”
.
.
.
(this was originally posted on my bluesky here)
{send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil steddie microfic for you!}
Steve would be endeared at the pet name, except Eddie had a marker clenched between his teeth, so it was more a garbled bunch of syllables that sounded vaguely like “c’m ‘ere s’eet h’rt”
(Steve was absolutely still endeared, but he wasn’t going to admit it.)
Before Steve could say anything, Eddie grabbed his bicep and pulled, causing Steve to stumble into Eddie’s lap where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
While Steve was only wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants after a quick shower in Eddie’s tiny trailer bathroom, Eddie was wearing an oversized long sleeve shirt (Steve’s) and a pair stained grey sweatpants, his long curls pulled back in a low ponytail.
“Eds, what—“
“Hold still,” Eddie commanded, the cap of the marker still clenched between his teeth as he used one hand to uncap it while the other still firmly held onto Steve’s bicep.
The tip of the marker was cold, causing Steve to jump a little as Eddie started to drag it across his skin, drawing a series of firm lines starting at the ball of his shoulder and working their way across his shoulder blade and toward the center of his back.
Eddie’s brow was furrowed in concentration, and Steve took the moment to let himself stare unselfconsciously. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of looking at Eddie’s face. He was always so expressive, his face animated in way like no one else Steve knew.
Looking at Eddie felt like looking at a study of what it meant to be alive — and for someone who sometimes felt like more a mausoleum than a man, Steve was endlessly enraptured.
Even in moments like this, where Eddie was simply concentrating on something, he could still see all the life in the stillness, the passion in his deep brown eyes that never went out.
Steve could only hope to have half as much of the fire that Eddie did.
Eddie finally lets go of Steve long enough for him to spit the cap of the marker into his palm and snap it closed with a flourish. “There! All finished.”
Eddie’s self-satisfied grin tugs at a very specific corner of Steve’s heart, and he knows he’s stupidly love with the man because he has the sudden realization that Eddie could have just drawn a bunch of dicks all over him and he’d still be hopelessly endeared.
He’d throw a bitch-fit, of course, but that wouldn’t stop his heart from feeling like it was fit to burst with affection.
Raising a brow, Steve asks, “What’cha doing there, Eds?”
“Just had to prove something to myself,” Eddie murmurs, still staring at whatever he drew across Steve’s back.
“Yeah? What’d you have to prove, Picasso?”
Eddie snorts a little and finally looks at Steve, a twinkle in his eyes as he says, “That my baby is full of stardust.”
That wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and he doesn’t know what kind of expression he makes, can only watch the way that Eddie’s softens in response.
“You’ve got a whole galaxy on you,” Eddie continues, “and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the different constellations your moles make, so.” He shrugs and holds up the marker, wiggling it in his fingers. “Had to map them out.”
“Oh.” There are so many different things that Steve is feeling all at once that he’s having a hard time processing. His thoughts are flashing across his mind too quickly for him to catch and put into words.
If I have constellations, then you’re all the space in-between, bringing life to all the empty inside me.
Stars have always felt so far away, but I look at you and feel like I have the sun in my arms.
You make my heart feel like it’s gone supernova and I want to let it consume me.
If I’m full of stardust, then you’re the heaven that all the stars are searching for.
“Eds?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Eddie grins at him, soft and sweet and forget the sun — Steve wants his world to revolve around that grin.
“Love you too, Starshine.”
~~~~~~
*30 min later*
Steve: Eddie… did you draw on me with permanent marker?
Eddie: What? No, it’s one of those washable… *slowly realizes he did, in fact, accidentally use a sharpie* uhm. Oops?
Steve: *deep sigh* You’d better sleep with one eye open, Munson, or you’re gonna wake up with a permanent dick on your face.
Eddie: *winks* As long as it’s yours, Darling, I don’t mind.
Steve: Jesus Christ.
.
.
.
send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!
au where steve/eddie/robin are hanging out at eddie’s and out of the blue robin asks the room “how long is your ideal hug?”
and with zero hesitation steve replies “at least 45 minutes. probably a good hour or two if i could swing it”
eddie and robin blink.
robin: …i don’t think that’s very realistic, dingus
steve, still reading his magazine and not at all paying attention to the way robin and eddie are Looking at him: *scoffs bitchily* you said ideal, rob, not realistic
and this is where steve will swear that robin and eddie have developed their own psychic link because the next thing he knows, eddie is yanking steve down so he’s laying on top of eddie on the couch and robin is laying down on top of him and: “guys what the fUck”
robin and eddie, in unison: steve sandwich
steve, softly but with feeling: what the fuck
eddie: let us give you your ideal hug, okay sweetheart?
steve, dying inside but also fucking Living: …okay c:
Steve would be endeared at the pet name, except Eddie had a marker clenched between his teeth, so it was more a garbled bunch of syllables that sounded vaguely like “c’m ‘ere s’eet h’rt”
(Steve was absolutely still endeared, but he wasn’t going to admit it.)
Before Steve could say anything, Eddie grabbed his bicep and pulled, causing Steve to stumble into Eddie’s lap where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
While Steve was only wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants after a quick shower in Eddie’s tiny trailer bathroom, Eddie was wearing an oversized long sleeve shirt (Steve’s) and a pair stained grey sweatpants, his long curls pulled back in a low ponytail.
“Eds, what—“
“Hold still,” Eddie commanded, the cap of the marker still clenched between his teeth as he used one hand to uncap it while the other still firmly held onto Steve’s bicep.
The tip of the marker was cold, causing Steve to jump a little as Eddie started to drag it across his skin, drawing a series of firm lines starting at the ball of his shoulder and working their way across his shoulder blade and toward the center of his back.
Eddie’s brow was furrowed in concentration, and Steve took the moment to let himself stare unselfconsciously. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of looking at Eddie’s face. He was always so expressive, his face animated in way like no one else Steve knew.
Looking at Eddie felt like looking at a study of what it meant to be alive — and for someone who sometimes felt like more a mausoleum than a man, Steve was endlessly enraptured.
Even in moments like this, where Eddie was simply concentrating on something, he could still see all the life in the stillness, the passion in his deep brown eyes that never went out.
Steve could only hope to have half as much of the fire that Eddie did.
Eddie finally lets go of Steve long enough for him to spit the cap of the marker into his palm and snap it closed with a flourish. “There! All finished.”
Eddie’s self-satisfied grin tugs at a very specific corner of Steve’s heart, and he knows he’s stupidly love with the man because he has the sudden realization that Eddie could have just drawn a bunch of dicks all over him and he’d still be hopelessly endeared.
He’d throw a bitch-fit, of course, but that wouldn’t stop his heart from feeling like it was fit to burst with affection.
Raising a brow, Steve asks, “What’cha doing there, Eds?”
“Just had to prove something to myself,” Eddie murmurs, still staring at whatever he drew across Steve’s back.
“Yeah? What’d you have to prove, Picasso?”
Eddie snorts a little and finally looks at Steve, a twinkle in his eyes as he says, “That my baby is full of stardust.”
That wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and he doesn’t know what kind of expression he makes, can only watch the way that Eddie’s softens in response.
“You’ve got a whole galaxy on you,” Eddie continues, “and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the different constellations your moles make, so.” He shrugs and holds up the marker, wiggling it in his fingers. “Had to map them out.”
“Oh.” There are so many different things that Steve is feeling all at once that he’s having a hard time processing. His thoughts are flashing across his mind too quickly for him to catch and put into words.
If I have constellations, then you’re all the space in-between, bringing life to all the empty inside me.
Stars have always felt so far away, but I look at you and feel like I have the sun in my arms.
You make my heart feel like it’s gone supernova and I want to let it consume me.
If I’m full of stardust, then you’re the heaven that all the stars are searching for.
“Eds?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Eddie grins at him, soft and sweet and forget the sun — Steve wants his world to revolve around that grin.
“Love you too, Starshine.”
~~~~~~
*30 min later*
Steve: Eddie… did you draw on me with permanent marker?
Eddie: What? No, it’s one of those washable… *slowly realizes he did, in fact, accidentally use a sharpie* uhm. Oops?
Steve: *deep sigh* You’d better sleep with one eye open, Munson, or you’re gonna wake up with a permanent dick on your face.
Eddie: *winks* As long as it’s yours, Darling, I don’t mind.
Steve: Jesus Christ.
.
.
.
send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!
au where steve/eddie/robin are hanging out at eddie’s and out of the blue robin asks the room “how long is your ideal hug?”
and with zero hesitation steve replies “at least 45 minutes. probably a good hour or two if i could swing it”
eddie and robin blink.
robin: …i don’t think that’s very realistic, dingus
steve, still reading his magazine and not at all paying attention to the way robin and eddie are Looking at him: *scoffs bitchily* you said ideal, rob, not realistic
and this is where steve will swear that robin and eddie have developed their own psychic link because the next thing he knows, eddie is yanking steve down so he’s laying on top of eddie on the couch and robin is laying down on top of him and: “guys what the fUck”
robin and eddie, in unison: steve sandwich
steve, softly but with feeling: what the fuck
eddie: let us give you your ideal hug, okay sweetheart?
steve, dying inside but also fucking Living: …okay c:
yessssss!!!!!!! sometimes steve will be in the middle of something too when suddenly he is being octopussed on both sides out of nowhere and is just like “what the— jesus CHRIST okay—“
the kids catch on and will pretend it’s an excuse to tackle the jock, but really they also want a Steve Hug
Steve would be endeared at the pet name, except Eddie had a marker clenched between his teeth, so it was more a garbled bunch of syllables that sounded vaguely like “c’m ‘ere s’eet h’rt”
(Steve was absolutely still endeared, but he wasn’t going to admit it.)
Before Steve could say anything, Eddie grabbed his bicep and pulled, causing Steve to stumble into Eddie’s lap where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
While Steve was only wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants after a quick shower in Eddie’s tiny trailer bathroom, Eddie was wearing an oversized long sleeve shirt (Steve’s) and a pair stained grey sweatpants, his long curls pulled back in a low ponytail.
“Eds, what—“
“Hold still,” Eddie commanded, the cap of the marker still clenched between his teeth as he used one hand to uncap it while the other still firmly held onto Steve’s bicep.
The tip of the marker was cold, causing Steve to jump a little as Eddie started to drag it across his skin, drawing a series of firm lines starting at the ball of his shoulder and working their way across his shoulder blade and toward the center of his back.
Eddie’s brow was furrowed in concentration, and Steve took the moment to let himself stare unselfconsciously. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of looking at Eddie’s face. He was always so expressive, his face animated in way like no one else Steve knew.
Looking at Eddie felt like looking at a study of what it meant to be alive — and for someone who sometimes felt like more a mausoleum than a man, Steve was endlessly enraptured.
Even in moments like this, where Eddie was simply concentrating on something, he could still see all the life in the stillness, the passion in his deep brown eyes that never went out.
Steve could only hope to have half as much of the fire that Eddie did.
Eddie finally lets go of Steve long enough for him to spit the cap of the marker into his palm and snap it closed with a flourish. “There! All finished.”
Eddie’s self-satisfied grin tugs at a very specific corner of Steve’s heart, and he knows he’s stupidly love with the man because he has the sudden realization that Eddie could have just drawn a bunch of dicks all over him and he’d still be hopelessly endeared.
He’d throw a bitch-fit, of course, but that wouldn’t stop his heart from feeling like it was fit to burst with affection.
Raising a brow, Steve asks, “What’cha doing there, Eds?”
“Just had to prove something to myself,” Eddie murmurs, still staring at whatever he drew across Steve’s back.
“Yeah? What’d you have to prove, Picasso?”
Eddie snorts a little and finally looks at Steve, a twinkle in his eyes as he says, “That my baby is full of stardust.”
That wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and he doesn’t know what kind of expression he makes, can only watch the way that Eddie’s softens in response.
“You’ve got a whole galaxy on you,” Eddie continues, “and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the different constellations your moles make, so.” He shrugs and holds up the marker, wiggling it in his fingers. “Had to map them out.”
“Oh.” There are so many different things that Steve is feeling all at once that he’s having a hard time processing. His thoughts are flashing across his mind too quickly for him to catch and put into words.
If I have constellations, then you’re all the space in-between, bringing life to all the empty inside me.
Stars have always felt so far away, but I look at you and feel like I have the sun in my arms.
You make my heart feel like it’s gone supernova and I want to let it consume me.
If I’m full of stardust, then you’re the heaven that all the stars are searching for.
“Eds?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Eddie grins at him, soft and sweet and forget the sun — Steve wants his world to revolve around that grin.
“Love you too, Starshine.”
~~~~~~
*30 min later*
Steve: Eddie… did you draw on me with permanent marker?
Eddie: What? No, it’s one of those washable… *slowly realizes he did, in fact, accidentally use a sharpie* uhm. Oops?
Steve: *deep sigh* You’d better sleep with one eye open, Munson, or you’re gonna wake up with a permanent dick on your face.
Eddie: *winks* As long as it’s yours, Darling, I don’t mind.
Steve: Jesus Christ.
.
.
.
send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!
au where Steve and Robin had their bathroom floor conversation/platonic soulmate initiation ceremony way back in 1983, like two weeks after Jonathan rocked Steve’s shit and by the time everyone gets back from winter break they’ve become SteveandRobin.
Steve knows all about Robin’s crush on Tammy Thompson and Robin knows all about the fact that Steve thinks one Eddie Munson is really pretty, actually, when he’s not being a grubby little gremlin.
In this au, Steve and Nancy mutually broke it off after the whole monster-fighting thing and so for the next few months after break, SteveandRobin try to wingman each other but also the ‘you rule/you suck’ board makes an appearance, this time in an unused corner of the band room.
So far Steve hasn’t gotten a single tally in the ‘you rule’ column. He is deeply offended by this and is trying to figure out why he seems to have lost his mojo. He needs to prove to Robin that he is very suave, actually, and no, his reputation is not a fluke. Jesus.
Which leads us to a Thursday evening in late May where band practice is getting out at the same time as Hellfire club. Steve suddenly finds himself being possessed by the ghost of Casanova himself or something because the next thing he knows, he’s abandoning Robin with a quick “be right back” and swaggering up to Eddie, who eyes Steve warily before leaning up against the side of the school building with a smirk paired with a dangerous glint in his eye.
“Hey, Munson,” Steve starts, keeping it causal.
Eddie pulls the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth with a wet pop and Steve fervently doesn’t have any feelings about that whatsoever.
“Steve Harrington,” he purrs. “What can this lowly peasant do for such esteemed royalty as yourself, hmm?”
Steve raises a single eyebrow. “Well, first of all, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly Hawkins High royalty anymore. Apparently jocks and band geeks can’t be friends,” Steve adds with a roll of his eyes.
“Second of all…” Steve glances left and right, making sure there’s no one in earshot before giving Eddie a once-over and taking a deliberate step forward so the toes of their shoes are almost touching. “I think we both know you’re too pretty and too smart to be stuck as a peasant.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide for a moment before narrowing, his dimpled grin somehow managing to be sharp as a knife. “Careful, big boy. You don’t wanna play this game.”
“Who says this is a game?”
Eddie scoffs, putting his lollipop back in his mouth and straightening like he’s going to move past Steve, but Steve stops him with a hand to the wall behind Eddie’s head.
He makes sure to leave enough room for Eddie to be able to walk away if he really wants to, doesn’t want him to feel trapped or pressured in any way. But he also wants Eddie to know he’s being serious.
“Look, you can tell me to fuck off if you really want, and I will, swear to god.”
Eddie stares at him with wide eyes and slowly nods his head.
“But I really hope you don’t,” Steve continues, leaning forward until their noses are just inches from touching, “because it turns out I really have a thing for curly-headed nerds.”
Steve relishes in the way Eddie’s jaw drops open and a blush works its way over his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. It’s really fucking cute.
“I know I can’t exactly wine-and-dine you like if you were a girl, but maybe I could get us some pizza and beers and you could come over to my place one of these days?”
Steve raises his eyebrows, trying to only let a little bit of his excitement at the idea through — he doesn’t want to scare Eddie off.
Eddie stares for a moment, two. Eventually, he blurts, “Is— Is this— Are you being serious right now?” He hadn’t bothered to take out the lollipop before speaking, seems like he’s completely frozen, actually, making the question slightly garbled.
“As a heart attack.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“So?” Steve asks, biting his lower lip. He watches Eddie track the movement and gives himself a mental high-five.
“I’m— fuck, okay.” Eddie looks at Steve’s lips again before looking into his eyes incredulously. “I’m pretty sure this is a dream, but whatever, fuck it, I’ll go on a date with Steve goddamn Harrington, I guess.”
“Not dreaming,” Steve grins, finally leaning back a little bit. “And I’m gonna hold you to that,” he promises. On a whim, he reaches out and plucks Eddie’s lollipop from between his lips before placing it in his own mouth, making sure to maintain eye contact the entire time. Eddie’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he visibly swallows.
“Uh.”
“I’ll find you at lunch tomorrow, figure out what day works,” Steve says casually, leaning back and starting to walk backwards towards the parking lot. He points the lollipop at Eddie and commands, “Better not stand me up, Munson,” before putting it back in his mouth, shoving his hands in his pockets, and turning to walk back to where Robin is waiting by his car.
He doesn’t look back, even though he really really wants to, because he still wants to make sure he looks cool and aloof.
“Steven Marie,” Robin whisper yells once he’s close enough to hear her. “What the fuck was that? What did you do to Munson?”
Steve ignores her questions. “What’s he doing, Bobbie?”
Robin, bless her, answers him. “He’s just… standing there. And now he’s pulling his hair over his face and squatting. Did you break him?”
Steve grins, pleased. “Not yet.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Wait, where did you get the lollipop? You didn’t have one a few minutes ago.”
“I might’ve stolen it from Munson, right after I got him to agree to go on a date with me.”
Robin freezes, staring at him like she’s buffering as her entire worldview gets rearranged. “Steve, Stevie, I need you to know I’m so happy for you and proud of you. But also I am going to actually strangle you to death in your sleep what the actual fuck.”
“Love you too, Robs.”
+ Bonus:
Steve, 5 min later after he’s started driving to drop Robin off at home: ohmygod. Robin.
Robin: What.
Steve: Eddie and I basically kissed.
Robin: What?????
Steve: His spit is in my mouth as we speak.
Robin: wHAT??!!!?!!!
Steve: Robin stop screaming I’m having a crisis
{send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil steddie microfic for you! (it will almost certainly be much shorter than this one but who knows, i might get Inspired™️)}
au where steve/eddie/robin are hanging out at eddie’s and out of the blue robin asks the room “how long is your ideal hug?”
and with zero hesitation steve replies “at least 45 minutes. probably a good hour or two if i could swing it”
eddie and robin blink.
robin: …i don’t think that’s very realistic, dingus
steve, still reading his magazine and not at all paying attention to the way robin and eddie are Looking at him: *scoffs bitchily* you said ideal, rob, not realistic
and this is where steve will swear that robin and eddie have developed their own psychic link because the next thing he knows, eddie is yanking steve down so he’s laying on top of eddie on the couch and robin is laying down on top of him and: “guys what the fUck”
robin and eddie, in unison: steve sandwich
steve, softly but with feeling: what the fuck
eddie: let us give you your ideal hug, okay sweetheart?
steve, dying inside but also fucking Living: …okay c:
Eddie's eyes are so wide and bright, Steve feels like he's looking at some kind of baby animal, like a puppy or a deer. "Yeah, 'course man. Gotta see if your math game isn't as nerdy as it sounds."
🔀:
Eddie wasn't used to new folks moving to Hawkins. It was the kind of place where everyone who lived there had either been born there or had married into it. While Eddie technically hadn't been born in Hawkins, he'd lived there for as long as he could remember, first with his Uncle Wayne and then in his own little trailer on the other side of Forrest Hills.
"What I was trying to eventually get at is that not every preppy jock gets to have a dramatic change of heart, my liege." Eddie bows theatrically, overbalancing just enough to slide off of the edge of the sink with a yelp.
It's enough to bring a grin to Steve's face as Eddie straightens up as though nothing happened.
