MJ

24 years old Pronouns are hard, somedays she/they some days he/they I get paid to listen to peoples problems Current hyperfixations: Steddie and Taylor Swift

[blipblot]

Security is a Bitch

Steddie // Modern AU // Meet Ugly // 2,447k words

“Badge for security clearance, please.”

The man stops in front of Steve, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he looks Steve up and down. Steve continues to chew his gum, giving the man a bored look before blowing a bubble and letting it pop.

“Um, I’m Eddie,” Eddie, apparently, places a hand on his own chest like that’s explanation enough. “Eddie Munson?” 

“Hi, Eddie,” Steve swaps the gum from one side of his mouth to the other. “Badge for security clearance, please.” 

“I don’t have a badge, dude,” Eddie chuckles awkwardly. “Badges are for assistants and technicians. I’m a performer. If I do have a badge, it’s likely in the green room. I'll tell you what, let me through and I’ll gladly hunt it down for you.”

Steve stops Eddie from moving forward by placing two finger tips on his sternum, gently pushing him back. He blows another bubble, holding back a grin as he watches Eddie’s eye twitch like he can’t believe Steve’s audacity.

“No badge for security clearance, no entrance to the venue,” Steve explains flatly as he drops his hand away. “Sorry dude, them’s the breaks.”

“But I’m a prefor-” 

“Even "performers" need badges to gain access backstage,” Steve uses his fingers to make air quotes before crossing his arms back over his chest. “Please make your way down to the front entrance and take it up with the head office if you want.”

Eddie stands there, stunned before laughing with disbelief.

“But I’m Eddie,” Eddie throws his hands up. “This is ridiculous, I’m headlining this fucking show!”  

“And I’m Steve,” Steve tilts his head to the side, widening his eyes and talking slowly like he’s speaking to someone particularly stupid. “Steve with security. Which means if you don’t have a badge for security clearance, I can’t let you in. Simple math, Eddie.”

“It’s obvious you don’t know this, and that’s fine, but I’m kind of a big deal around here,” Eddie squints at Steve, his smile sarcastic. “Like I said, I’m headlining this show and I really need to get back there so I can get ready for the performance tonight. Surely you’ve heard of the headliner for the show you’re working on since you take your job so seriously.”

“Of course,” Steve says, his face indifferent. “His name is Kas. He plays with Corroded Coffin, who are all already backstage. I swiped their badges earlier. Nice guys.” 

“I know they’re nice guys, they’re my band, and that’s my stage name,” Eddie grits out. “Which I would love to prove to you but you have to let me back there in order to do that.”

Steve doesn’t respond, continuing to chew his gum while Eddie scrubs at his face out of frustration.

“Under different circumstances, this little bitchy indifference act would really work on me but as it stands I actually need to get back stage so I can do my fucking job.”

“No badge, no-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it, thank you so much,” Eddie interrupts him, waving him off. “You’re an immovable pillar of securital integrity, your parents must be very proud.”

Steve feels expression tighten slightly, not dignifying Eddie with a response as Eddie continues glares up at him. 

“Who even added you onto the security team? I don’t remember seeing you before tonight,” Eddie squints at Steve suspiciously. “See, I take pride in knowing everyone on my team. It’s a courtesy thing.” 

“Dustin Henderson added me tonight because someone called out sick and I owed him a favor,” Steve explains boredly, privately mourning the loss of flavor in his gum. He’d have to grab a new stick as soon as he got rid of this persistent weirdo. “He’s the head technician and an old friend of mine. Since it’s your team and you know everyone, why don’t you just give them a call and have someone grab your badge for you?”

“That-” Eddie responds hotly, pointing a finger in Steve’s face before hesitating as soon as he’s taken in what Steve’s said. “-is a great idea, actually. Why the fuck didn’t I think of that?”

Steve quirks an eyebrow, continuing to chew his hardened, dull gum as he watches Eddie fish around in his pockets for his phone. 

Eddie pats his front pockets and then the back ones, grumbling to himself as his eyebrows furrow. His expression turns frantic as he slaps his palms over the decorated vest he’s wearing. He checks the inner pockets of the vest before dropping his hands back down to his pants pockets again.

Steve swallows his gum and shifts his weight from one hip to the other, his eyebrow raising even higher as Eddie continues feeling around for a phone that’s clearly not there.

“...Okay, so the thing is, I might have left my phone on-”

“Look, man,” Steve interrupts with a tired huff. “It’s clear that you really want to get back there so this band must mean a lot to you, which I can appreciate. But this is not the way to go about this. The Corroded Coffin guys seem like good dudes, I’m sure they’ll make an appearance at the stage door tonight after the show if you wanted to get some merch signed. But my friends are working on this show and I’m not going to let some random guy back there and potentially put people I care about in danger, okay?”

Eddie’s face falls from angry to sheepishly and guilty.

“Okay,” Eddie says with a tone of defeat. “Okay, that's fair. I have to hand it to you, you’re really good at your job, Steve. Normally, I would appreciate and commend you for but right now it’s kind of fucking up my whole evening.”

“Sorry,” Steve says with a small shrug. “Dustin would never let me hear the end of it if I messed this up for him. This job means the world to him.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good at it too. Don’t tell him I said that though, he’ll turn into such a smug little bastard,” Eddie says with a forlorn sigh before his eyes widen with realization. “Wait! Dustin! You said he’s your friend, right?”

“Right,” Steve raises an eyebrow.

“Which means you have his phone number, right?” 

“Right,” Steve says again, his expression turning guarded. “It would be weird if I didn’t. It’s not like pen pals are super in these days.”

Eddie lets out a cackle of success, leaning into Steve’s space with a wide grin.

“Let me borrow your phone. I’ll call him and prove I’m not some freak groupie,” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with glee and mischief.  “Then would you let me backstage, Mister Doorkeep?”

“No,” Steve moves subtly back, his face heating up at Eddie’s close proximity. “Because you still won’t have a badge I can scan. Maybe I would if Dustin came down here and confirmed it but-”

“That’s fine, whatever works,” Eddie interrupts, holding his open hand out in front of him expectantly. “Your mobile device, if you would be so kind?”

Steve stares down at Eddie’s open palm, glancing back up at him with a doubtful grimace. 

“Come on, big boy. I won’t run off with it, I promise,” Eddie tilts his head to the side with a teasing grin. “Besides, even if I did you could probably catch me in, like, two seconds. Your thighs are insane, by the way. Do you run track in your spare time?”

“No, I coach a swim team for middle schoolers,” Steve says with an embarrassed frown. “All the flirting in the world isn’t going to save you if you actually run off with my phone, though. I will tackle you to the ground the second I think you’re going to run for it, I’m not kidding.”

“Promise, promises,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows as he watches Steve fetch his phone from his back pocket. “Thanks, Doll. You’re a life saver.” 

Steve grumbles under his breath as he watches Eddie type in a number, taking the free moment to fetch his pack of gum out of his pocket. He’s unwrapping a new piece out of its foil when Eddie glances back over at him.

“Ew, dude, did you swallow your gum?” Eddie asks, his nose scrunched up in distaste as the phone rings. “That’s gross.”

“Well, I’m not going to spit it on the ground,” Steve shoots him a look back, stuffing the new stick in his mouth. “That’s gross. I’m not some kind of animal.” 

“That gum is going to be in your stomach until you die, you know that right?” Eddie says with a haughty little shimmy of his shoulders. “The coroner will have to pump it out of you someday.”

“What? No way, that’s totally a myth-”

“Dustin!” Eddie cheerfully interrupts Steve as someone picks up. “Hey buddy, can you do me a favor? Tall, broad, and handsome here won’t let me through the stage door without a badge. Will you come grab me?”

Steve watches as Eddie listens to whoever's on the other line. 

“I told him that and he politely told me to fuck off,” Eddie glances over at Steve with a grin. “He said he values the safety of his friends or something ridiculous like that. Yeah, he’s a real peach. How long do you think it’ll be before you’re down here? I gotta make it to sound-”

Eddie’s interrupted by the door being yanked open behind Steve.

“-check.” Eddie finishes with a grin, hanging up the phone.

Dustin wheezes breathlessly behind Steve, leaning on the door frame with both arms.

“Holy shit, dude, did you run all the way down here from the sound booth?” Eddie hands his phone back to Steve who moves to the side so they can both stare at Dustin as he tries to catch his breath.

Dustin holds one hand out in front of him in the universal sign of ‘Just one moment please’ as he pulls out an inhaler and squeezes it before breathing in deep.

“Jesus, Dustin,” Steve says, rubbing his back with a concerned frown. 

“I’ve been looking for you-” Dustin grits out between wheezes. “-for an hour.”

“Don’t look at me like that, no one told me we added security badges.” Eddie holds up his hands in mock defense.

“Yeah, because you’d lose it and that would be another issue entirely.” Dustin glares up at him before snapping his gaze over to Steve. “And you!-”

“Oh brother, here we go-”

“-What the hell is the matter with you?!” Dustin throws his hands above his head in disbelief.  “How could you not know what the lead singer of the band you’re working for looks like?” 

“Well, it’s not like I was shown pictures,” Steve huffs back, crossing his arms over his chest with a defensive glare. “They told me no one without a badge can get in so I didn’t let anyone without a badge in. Sorry for doing my job.” 

Dustin groans, scrubbing at his face before moving out of the way and jabbing his finger down the hallway.

“You, get to hair and make up-” Dustin glares at Eddie before turning to Steve. “-and you! We’re having words later, so help me god.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns away, mocking Dustin by repeating him under his breath with a high pitched voice. Eddie stares at him with enamored disbelief.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re perfect?” Eddie leans in close again, his smile growing as Steve looks at him with an annoyed frown. “Now that I can go, I almost want to stay.”

“Lucky me,” Steve says flatly. “And yeah, people call me perfect all the time. Why, did you think you were special for saying so?”

“Steve!” Dustin stares at him with a look that could kill. “What the hell is wrong with you? Come on, Eddie, ignore him.”

Eddie bites his lower lip, staring at Steve for a long moment before holding out his palm expectantly in front of him.

“...What?” Steve shoots a look down at Eddie’s palm. “I’m not giving you any gum after you were so rude about it earlier. Go find your own.”

“I want your phone, Dove,” Eddie explains with a silky voice. “So I can put my number in and call you after the show. I wanna tell you things that’ll make you think I’m real special.” 

“Oh, you’re special, alright,” Steve scoffs but digs his phone out of his pocket to hand to Eddie anyway. “Just not the kind of special you think.”

“God, you’re such a bitch,” Eddie says with a pleased little laugh as he types in his number. “What are your thoughts on marriage? There’s a chapel down the street.” 

“That’s a synagogue,” Steve rolls his eyes as he takes his phone back. “I’m not Jewish. Are you?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter,” Eddie leans in even closer, incredibly pleased to see blush taking over Steve’s face. “I’d marry you in a gas station parking lot, if you’d let me.”

“Promises, promises,” Steve says back, a light reminder of their flirting earlier. “Don’t you have a show to get to?” 

“Well, you told me I couldn’t get in without a badge,” Eddie grips the railing behind Steve with both hands, caging him in. “Guess I’m stuck out here with you until that gets rectified, right?” 

“Mm, I did say that didn’t I?” Steve looks down at Eddie through his lashes.

“You sure did,” Eddie licks his lips and leans in closer. “Dustin, will you be a dear and go grab that for me?”

“What? No, it’ll take me, like, thirty minutes to find that stupid thing. I’m not running around backstage just so you two can schmooze-”

“Thanks, pal, you’re a real dear,” Eddie sing songs before reaching out and closing the door in Dustin’s face. “Now, what do you think we can get up to in thirty minutes before the little squirt gets back?” 

“Certainly not marriage,” Steve snorts. “That’ll take an hour, at least.” 

“How about I tell you I want to get through that door real bad-” Eddie walks his finger tips down Steve’s chest, stopping to tap lightly at his belt buckle. “-and then show you all the things I’d be willing to do to get through it.”

Steve cocks his head to the side with a look of indifference but Eddie can see how heavy his breathing has gotten.

“No badge for security clearance, no entrance to the venue,” Steve says with a low voice, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind Eddie’s ear.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Eddie chuckles, his grin widening as the clinking sound of Steve’s belt buckle being undone.

[morganbritton132]

Dustin: Steve is a loser

Steve (offended): Hey

Dustin: No, I don't mean that you're uncool. I mean like, you lose. You lose all the time. I've never seen you win anything

Steve: I won a lot of basketball games

Dustin: Never made it to championships though.

Dustin: You played bingo with me and my mom last night and you never won once

Steve: You were missing-

Dustin: I saw you lose a thumb war to a child the other day.

Steve: First of all, that was a thumb battle. The war goes on. And second, I let Holly win.

Dustin: You've never won a fight

Steve: That's-

Dustin: And you lost the five bucks in your wallet today

Steve, taking his wallet out and opening it: No, I didn't. I have it right here.

Dustin: Not anymore *snatches money and runs*

Steve:

Steve:

Robin: You feel proud of that?

Steve: Shut up.

[morganbritton132]

There is only one day a year that Hopper likes his job.

On the first day of First Responders Appreciation Week at the end of his shift, he knows that they will be heading to the overpriced steakhouse just outside of town for free meal he could not justify paying for on any other day.

Powell jokes to Callahan that this is the only reason Hopper became a cop just as the hostess informs them, "I'm going to sit you with somebody."

He blinks, "What?"

"I am going to sit you with someone," She repeats with a painted smile. "Otherwise, my manager is going to ask me to ask him to leave and I cannot do that so, follow me. Right this way."

Hopper's gaze follows ahead to their seat and he sighs at the sight of Richard Harrington's unsupervised five year old.

Steve's head is down.

He jerks up when Hopper pulls out the chair next to him and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. He gives a watery smile, "Hi, Mr Hopper. Hi, Officer Powell."

"I’m literally here too," Callahan mutters. Powell excused himself to speak to the manager, sharing a look with Hopper that says he'll figure out what's going on.

Hopper is an impatient man. He goes to the source, "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Oh, um. My basketball team from the country club made it to the final round in our tournament and, um. We came here to celebrate."

The distinct lack of children running around hangs in the silence between them before Steve adds, "They left."

"You didn't go with them?"

"No, they- it's okay," Steve says, clearly upset. He takes a deep breath and exhales, "They forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"My, um. My friend, Danny. He - he wasn't bein' very careful and he spilled steak sauce on my shirt," Steve says, pointing to the large stain splattered across the right shoulder of his pullover. "It was an accident, I think. And, um. I went to the restroom 'cause Mama gets mad if I’m dirty and I... And they forgot. And they left."

The kid tries to smile.

It doesn't meet his eyes.

"It's okay though," Steve reassures him. "Cause, um. It didn't hurt my feelings none 'cause it was - it was an accident."

"It was an accident," He repeats like a self-sooth. "I was in the restroom a long time and I’m littler than everyone else, and Coach Adam-"

"Your coach left you here?"

"Assistant coach," Callahan supplies. "Not that it matters but he's the assistant coach. I’m friends with his roommate. We're the same age."

"So old enough to do a head count?"

"The whole team was here so, um," Steve tries to justify. He's trying to rationalize himself out of his hurt feelings and he's too fucking young to be doing that. Hopper is pissed.

"Adam is a di- a jerk," Callahan says. "Every time I’m over at his place, he's complaining about coaching rich kids and how some guy forced their kid on the team with new unif- not you! Someone else, for sure. I’m just...shutting up now."

If looks could kill Hopper would still contemplate shooting his probie with a gun because Steve concludes, "So, no one likes me."

"Everyone likes you, kid," Hopper says, but his voice sounds angry. All this kid wants is friends.

Steve is the youngest on the team by a couple years because Richard Harrington got the age requirement waived. Hopper gets being annoyed by it. He gets benching the kid most of the season, but he does not understand this unnecessary bullshit cruelty.

"Hey, hon." Hopper nearly misses their waitress approach. "Are these gentlemen who you called to help with the bi-"

"No."

"Give us a minute," Hopper tells her when she tries to shift gears and take their drink order. He takes a moment, reassesses, and then lays out, "So, your coach-"

"My friend."

"-drove a bunch of kids twenty-five minutes out of town, racked up a bill of probably hundreds, and left you-"

"On accident," Steve sniffles.

"-with no safe way home and with the check? And none of those kids had a problem with it," He finishes. "These people are not your friends, Steve."

"Can you stop talking to me?" Steve asks with a voice brimming with tears. He presses his hands into his eyes, "My heart hurts."

"I’m sorry, kid."

"I want - I want my mama."

Hopper almost says that he'll take the kid home when he sees a familiar car pull into the parking lot. He watched the car park, the headlights go out, and an imposing figure step from the vehicle, "She's here, kid."

And she looks pissed.

Angela Harrington was never a particularly intimidating figure - too petite, too young, too classic in her beauty - but she moved like a storm into the restaurant.

"I called her," Steve says, pulling him away from the pissed off hurricane heading towards them. "Mr Hopper, you know how I’m big?"

"Yeah, Steve."

"And big kids don't cry none."

"They-"

"I don't want to be big right now," He says and then crumbled into tears. Angela just reaches their table when Steve cries, "Mama, I’m so sad."

Angela's anger melts to understanding, to a mother's heartache, in the seconds she picks up her sobbing child. He clings. She holds him tight, rest her cheek to the top of his head and assures him that it's okay. He'll be okay.

And then it's gone.

Her eyes glaze over with its usual unreadable aloofness and she says to the officers, "Thank you for keeping him company until I got here."

"No problem."

She reached into her pocket and pulls out cash, "He said there was a bill..."

"Don't worry about it," Powell says before Hopper. "I spoke with the manager and we agreed the meals should be paid for by their rightful owner. It won't be too hard to track them down."

"Good," She says, trying to hand them the money. "For your-"

"Ours is on the house, don't worry about it."

She sits the cash on the table anyways, "Tip your waitress."

[leonardo-hates-tables]

Steve is curled up in the center of his bed, pillow clutched tightly to his chest. Today all of the six and seventh graders gathered to watch the eighth grade talent show. Most of the acts sucked, but one stuck out to Steve.

There was a boy playing with his band, Steve doesn’t remember their name, but he remembers watching this kid play his guitar. It was like he was the only person in the entire universe. He kept whipping and shaking his head. Steve is sure that if his hair wasn’t buzzed, it’d be wild and big.

He knows the kid gets picked on, it’s because he stands out. But he doesn’t seem sorry for standing out, he wears it like a badge of honor. It makes Steve’s cheeks burn with jealousy.

They’re burning now just thinking about it, so he pushes his face into the pillow he’s holding. Steve has never felt like this about anyone in his life. He knows it’s not possible though, because the kid on stage was a boy, and Steve is a boy. He’s supposed to like girls.

But as he lays awake in his room, late in the night, he thinks about holding that boys hand. He thinks about touching his buzzed hair. He thinks about standing in the boys space.

Even worse, he thinks about taking up space. He thinks about meeting the boys family, he wonders if he has any siblings. He thinks about meeting his friends. He thinks about going to the movies, and secretly holding his hand in the dark.

But, of course, none of this happens. Steve can’t like boys.

Instead, he loses his virginity as a freshman at an upperclassman’s party. He gets popular. He gets a reputation. He gets girls.

He doesn’t get Eddie “The Freak” Munson because he’s King Steve “The Hair” Harrington.

(That is, until they save the world together and Steve has to breathe life back into Eddies lungs)

[mialoveseddie]

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson do not get along. They’ve been sniping at each other since saving the world from Vecna and everyone is tired of it They would fight at the bar. They fight in Family Video. They fight over music, over movies, over whether Eddie’s van is “a death trap”.

But what nobody knows is Steve started it. And Steve keeps starting it. Because the first time Eddie got really mad like red faced, voice cracking, gesturing with those rings and hair all wild from running his hands through it Steve’s brain just short circuited. God, he’s so hot when he’s pissed. He would think to him self.

So now Steve has a system. He says something dumb about his music choice and Eddie explodes. Steve wins. Not the argument. But just to see him.

Eddie doesn’t get it at first. He just thinks Steve’s an asshole who peaked in high school and never learned to shut up. Until one night Steve’s baiting him about “real music” and Eddie shoves him hard against the brick wall outside the Hideout, and Steve smiles.

Oh.

“You absolute freak,” Eddie says realization dawning and devastating. “You like this. You like when I—”

Steve cuts him off by kissing him, because since he’s been caught he might as well give in.

[morganbritton132]

Season 5 AU where Eddie lived and he keeps getting paired up with Jonathan for the crawls because everyone thinks they get along.

They don't.

They think the other is mildly annoying in small doses.

Big crawling doses? They're ready to kill each other.

They keep coming to Robin (for a reason she cannot fathom and would like to stop) to bitch about each other. She is just like, "Find some middle ground - where I am not at - and stay there. Jesus."

Eventually they find it.

It's Steve.

Unfortunately, they will come to realize that they have assigned very different meaning to the phrase 'Fuck Steve Harrington.'

And then. Turns out.

They have the same meaning of the phrase 'fuck Steve Harrington' and now they're fighting again.

[morganbritton132]

(Continuing Creature and Weird Kid's adventure from here)

"I know him!" Eddie exclaims as he walks through the door of Benny's Burgers. "He comes to my house."

"Coach Benny comes to your house?!"

"Yeah," Eddie nods. "Uncle Wayne is his best friend, pretty sure."

"Woah."

Benny watches these two approach the register with a fond smile before greeting, "Howdy, boys. What can I go for ya?"

"Hi, Coach Benny," Steve says, looking up through his eyelashes like he does right before asking, "Can me and my friend have a job today?"

"He bites people," Steve adds as a warning, "But he won't bite no one here. He promises."

"I don't promise nothing," Eddie declares. "I’m a free spirit and sometimes the spirits say to bite."

Steve pauses.

He reiterates, "We'll be pro-fresh-a-nul and not bite people."

"I know you will, Steve," Benny says. "I got one job for ya but it's a doozy. You up for it?"

"We can do it!"

"I know, kid," Benny assures. He wishes this kid would just accept the free food instead of this song and dance. But alas, "It's a little gross. A couple troublemakers spread ketchup all over my table back there. You think you two can wipe that up?"

"Ew...I mean, yes," Steve nods. "Is that a hamburger job 'cause my weird friend wants a hamburger."

"With Cheese," Eddie adds.

"With Cheese," Steve repeats.

"Well, it is a pretty big job," Benny says. "I think it's a full meal job actually - burger and fries at least."

"And a milkshake too?"

"Yeah, we have to have a milkshake," Eddie chimes. "It's his birthday."

"Don't lie to Coach Benny."

"I’m not."

"It's not my birthday."

"His birthday is tomorrow."

"No, it's-!"

Benny laughs, "Well, regardless. I think I can scrounge up two non-birthday milkshakes for ya."

"Let me get ya'll some rags so you can get started and I'll get your lunch going so it's ready when you're done," He adds. "How's that sound?"

"Good," Eddie grins. "I’m going to lick the ketchup with my tongue."

"Ew, don't do that," Steve calls after him when Eddie darts off. He lingers for a second, "Thanks, Benny."

"Any time, kid."

[morganbritton132]

(More adventures with five year old Creature and six year old Weird Kid)

Steve slouches.

He sits alone on a bench where the forest trees eat into the park. He's almost hidden as he watches kids his own age run back and forth from the playground to the ice cream truck parked near the entrance. And he slouches.

Tommy would say he was pouting.

Tommy would call him a baby but Steve's not being a baby.

He's having a bad day.

He's tired, his tummy kinda hurts, and he just doesn't want to play today.

He is thinking about going home when a voice reaches out of the trees, stretching and bending over the bench until it smiles down at him and declares, "I've been looking for my creature all day!"

"Did you find it?"

"Sure did," the weird kid grins like they're sharing a joke. "I got you a surprise. Close your eyes."

Steve reluctantly does as he is told. He listens as Eddie climbs over the bench until, "Okay. Open 'em."

Presented to him is a cone of vanilla ice cream dipped rainbow sprinkles.

"You didn't get one from the ice cream van," Eddie explains. "I was watchin' you and you looked sad about it so I got you one."

"It's 'cause I don't got any money."

"Me neither," Eddie says. "Uncle Wayne gave me a dollar so I could get some but I traded my dollar to a bard for marbles."

Steve pauses.

He pulls his hands away from the cone, "How did you get ice cream if you don't got no money? Did you steal it?"

"Nooooo, I told the ice cream man that it was your birthday and he gave it to me for free," Eddie explains. "That's a trick you can do when you want ice cream. My daddy does it when we go out to eat. It works every time."

"But...that's lying."

"Lying is okay if it's for a good reason," Eddie decides. "It's kinda illegal for creatures to be sad so I had a good reason. You hav'ta eat it or it's rude....being rude is worse than lying."

Steve's not sure that's true but it also sounds like something his mom would tell him so...

"Okay. Thanks," He says, taking the cone. "Did you get ice cream for you?"

"No."

"Then we have to share!" Steve insists. "Miss Maria says that sharing and caring, and I care that you don't have ice cream."

He takes a lick and then hold the cone out, "Your turn."

They pass the cone back and forth until it's down to the nub. Steve lets Eddie have the last of it.

"Um... you know," Steve hesitates. "Coach Benny - he's my baseball coach. He said that, um. If I’m ever hungry then I can come to Benny's Burgers and work for him."

"He said - he said that he can't give me a real job 'cause I’m a kid," He continues, "But I can pick up trash and he'll give me lunch, and um. Since you don't got money and I don't got no money, we can, uh. We can go there if you're hungry."

Eddie watches him.

He watches his creature fidget for a long time, and then he grins, "It's a date. A date with my creature."

"I’m not old enough to date," Steve says as they stand. They're about to leave when Steve pauses. A contemplative look passes over his face and then -

"Can I hug you?" Steve asks. "My mama says you gotta ask 'cause people don't like when I hug them but I - you were right, earlier. I was really sad, and really hungry, and my heart is blue 'cause I miss my mama a whole lot and, um."

"I really want someone to hug me," Steve whispers, voice getting tight all of a sudden. "No one hugs me anymore 'cause Mama don't like to and. And Tommy hugs me sometimes but it's mean, like he's beating me up, and you're - you look like-"

Wayne always say that they should help when they can and Eddie knows he can help.

He grabs Steve by the shirt and yanks him forward. He wraps his gangly arms around him and he squeezes him, and Steve sinks.

He melts like a sigh.

Eddie smiles into Steve's hair and privately thinks five year olds are kinda bad at hugging since Steve only wraps one arm around his waist.

Eddie kisses the top of Steve's head because his mom always did that to him and he declares, "I’m gonna get a cheeseburger."

"Benny will give you a milkshake if you pick up a lot of trash," Steve says when he eventually pulls back. "I like the chocolate."

"Wow," Eddie grins. "That's two ice creams in one day. Today is a good day."

"Yeah," Steve agrees. "It is now."

[morganbritton132]

When Eddie was a kid with too much energy, Wayne would send him outside to run around the house until he tired himself out.

Now when Eddie is anxious about something, he'll send himself outside.

He doesn't even think about it anymore, not until he rounds the house and sees Steve staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

Eddie slows to a stop, "Hey."

"Since when do you exercise?"

"I...don't," Eddie says. "This isn't exercise. It's...I don't know. Stress relief?"

"Okay...I call it exercising, but whatever. What are you stressed about?"

"About asking you out on a date...oh."

"Seems like you did it easily enough," Steve replies, fighting a grin. "I don't think you need to sweat about it, Munson."

Steve opens the door and goes inside. Eddie is still kinda of stunned that he just - said it. He almost forgets that -

"Wait," He calls after Steve. "You didn't answer!"

"Obviously yes!"

[runninriot]

how to start a fire

written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June microfic challenge

prompt: knot | wc: 586 | pov eddie | rated: T | tags: pre steddie, background robin/chrissy, eddie has a crush on steve, subtle flirting, eddie hates camping - until steve changes his mind | also on ao3

Eddie made a lot of bad choices in his life but this one might be his worst yet. Letting Chrissy talk him into a fucking camping trip with Buckley and Harrington, a whole damn weekend spend out in the wild, sleeping in tents and all, ugh.

There's a reason why Wayne looked at him like he'd grown a second head when he told him about the trip, knowing too well that his nephew is not made for the outdoors. They tried that once, when Eddie was 12, and agreed to never do it again for both their sakes.

He should’ve stuck by that, but here he is now, sitting uncomfortably on a log, swatting at mosquitoes, feeling bored and itchy and useless. He offered to help the girls get the cooler from the van (‘No, Eddie. We do not have to hunt or fish for food,’ thank fucking god for that!) but got the hint when Chris said they're fine on their own.

So he sits there and mopes, watching Steve pile up twigs and newspaper scraps to build a fire, and as much as he hates to admit it, is impressed by how quickly he gets it started.

   "Where d'you learn that?" he asks honestly curious, his heart skipping a beat when Steve turns to him with a proud, gorgeous smile.

   "Oh, uh. Summer camp. When I was 13," he replies and shrugs it off like it's nothing.

    Of course. Fucking rich kids and their fucking fancy Summer time activities.

   "My parents went on a trip to Paris and didn't trust me to stay home alone."

    No, actually? Fuck Steve's parents for going on vacation without him.

    "What, like, some boy scout thing or something? Where they teach you how to tie knots and stuff?" Eddie jokes and Steve laughs, says "Yeah. Something like that."

Seemingly satisfied with his work, Steve takes his attention away from the steadily crackling fire and sits down beside Eddie.

   "Had my first kiss there, too," he fake-whispers, leaning in like he's sharing a secret the trees and birds around them aren't supposed to hear.

Eddie's ears are burning, but it's definitely from the heat of the fire, not because Steve is suddenly so close now, their knees are touching.

   "Oh, really? Did you sneak into the girls' quarters at night?" Eddie laughs weakly, feeling just a tiny bit jealous for reasons he’s not willing to give any thought right now.

   "Hell no!” Steve huffs out, “The counsellors threatened to put anyone they caught breaking the rules on cleaning duty. Do you know how nasty the wash rooms were? Scarred me for life, man." Steve shakes his head and scrunches his nose in disgust, then his lips curl up into a cheeky grin. "Luckily, I didn't have to sneak out." Steve winks at him and it takes Eddie a second to get what he’s implying. "His name was Alex."

    Oh, okay. Yep. That’s- great.

   "Sounds like you had a lot of fun," Eddie says, acting casual when on the inside, he's having a minor (major) crisis.

   "Mhm, yeah. Learned a lot at camp."

Steve stands, picking up some logs to feed the fire with, looking back over his shoulder when he suggests, "I could show you, while we're here."

Eddie swallows roughly.

He has the sinking feeling Steve is not talking about showing him how to start a fire, or how to tie a knot.

And suddenly, the thought of sharing a tent with him doesn't seem so horrible anymore.

[morganbritton132]

(Continuing from here)

Robin continuing her Tiktok series Texts from My Best Friend Part 17 at the request of her six thousand (+one rockstar stalker)

Robin (as Steve): Whenever I'm feeling bad, I just remember my blood type.

Robin (as Steve): B positive

Robin (as Robin): That is not your blood type!

Robin (as Robin): Your blood type is A negative

Robin (as Steve): Oh.

Robin (as Steve): That checks out. Everything in my life is A Negative

Robin (as Robin): Are you being dramatic or do you wanna talk? I’m free

Robin (as Steve): Dramatic.

Robin (as Robin): Call me anyways. I want the drama.

Robin:

Robin: At three in the morning

Robin (as Steve): Mike's blood type is B positive. I just remembered.

Robin (as Steve): Most A Negative kid I know.

[morganbritton132]

Modern AU where Eddie rides a little viral moment into a music career, becomes one of the biggest acts in music...and now he's being trolled online.

There is a guy across social media platforms who comments under everything Eddie posts with a little 'Eddie Munson Fun Fact.'

It's very annoying because these facts range between mundane to embarrassing, and they're all true. This is clearly someone who is from Hawkins and went to school with him but Eddie has no idea who it could be.

Their profile picture is a poorly made ice cream cone and all their non-Eddie related posts are about StarCourt Mall conspiracies.

He'll post a little thank you to the fans or give updates on show dates, and without fail, Ice Cream Guy is there like, Fun Fact: Eddie Munson is a three time senior.

Fun Fact: Eddie Munson fell off a cafeteria table into a trash can once.

Fun Fact: Eddie Munson is a String. Cheese. Hater.

This guy is trying to get him canceled by Big Cheese.

Eddie's label hates him but his fans like him so Eddie kinda just deals with it because the engagement is good.

And then Eddie comes out.

He lets the whole world know he likes men and Ice Cream Guy is the first to comment under the post like, Fun Fact: I knew it.

Followed by: Fun Fact: Eddie Munson has a crush on me.

Eddie comments back: Prove it

Ice Cream Guy replies: Fun Fact: Ask me on a date first, freak

Eddie replies: How would I know it's you if I don't know who you are??

Ice Cream Guy says: You'll know.

Eddie's fan eat this up. They start bringing ice cream to his shows. They start making ice cream themed fan merch. They're drawing NSFW fan art of Eddie with a sentient ice cream cone.

Nothing really comes from this interaction and hype died down until one day, Eddie posts a photo of him and Steve 'The Hair' Harrington with the caption, Fun Fact: He was right.

[marvel-ous-m]

Brainworm of hunger games Steddie AU

Eddie is reaped when he’s 17. He hails from District 6, the family of factory workers. He’s good with his hands, but lanky and awkward and he accepts the reaping for what it is: a death sentence. He had almost made it out- so close to 18- but apparently this is what the fates decided.

Except the arena is, somehow, made for him. There’s traps everywhere, barely-noticeable rigs meant to kill the tributes with fire or insects or mutations of already deadly animals. Eddie sees it for what it is, though- it’s a well-oiled machine, no different than the engines he works on at home. He deftly avoids each trap, sometimes even taking them apart to build new killing machines. He waits out the other tributes, killing when he has no other choice, and emerges victorious.

He wins the games. He gets to go home. He tells his dad to kick rocks and shares his new house in the Victor’s Village with Wayne, his uncle who has been the only real father figure he’s ever had. His life has changed in a matter of weeks, and now he’s socializing with the well-to-do’s in District 6.

That’s how he meets Steve Harrington. Steve’s 16 and the son of a manufacturing manager. He’s strong, has kind eyes, and an ambitious attitude that just spells trouble.

It’s no wonder Eddie falls in love.

It’s illegal, their love, but they find their ways, especially now that Eddie has the kind of status that forces people to believe his lies. Steve spends more nights in Eddie’s home than in his own. He comforts Eddie through the nightmares of the arena, reassures him time and again that Eddie is safe, that nothing can ever hurt him again.

The foolish thing is- Eddie believes him. He falls for the lie of the Capitol, that a victor’s life is pain free, that as long as they fulfill their annual duties of mentoring the next unlucky group of kids, he and his loved ones will be just fine.

He believes that lie up until the next reaping, when Steve Harrington’s name is pulled out of that bowl and the love of his life is suddenly being sent to slaughter, with Eddie being forced to be there every step of the way as Steve’s mentor.

Suddenly, Steve’s survival is up to Eddie and his ability to rally support for Steve in the arena. He may not be back in the games, but his heart is- and Eddie’s going to be damned if he lets anything or anyone lay a hand on his love.

[pedroschka]

Eddie has things to do.

He's busy.

There's a grocery list folded in his pocket waiting to get crossed off.

But all of that can wait, because there's a guy carrying his dog walking right in front of him.

The guy's wearing bright red running shorts, and the muscles in his legs flex with every step. In his arms sits a…Eddie actually has no clue what breed of dog it is, but whatever it is, it looks completely content with its life, tucked securely against this man's chest, watching the traffic go by.

Eddie has never wanted to be a dog more.

Which is saying something, because he doesn't even like dogs that much. He's more of a cat person.

So why is a guy carrying his dog the hottest thing Eddie has seen in months?

Why is he carrying the dog, anyway?

Maybe he's waiting until they reach the park so it doesn't run into traffic.

Maybe the dog just wanted to be carried.

Eddie can relate.

He, too, would like to be carried around by this guy.

He reaches his turn.

Eddie slows.

Thinks about it.

Then promptly ignores it.

Groceries have to wait, for now he's following a random hot stranger whose face he hasn't even seen yet.

Totally normal behavior.

Eddie's eyes drift down to those legs again, then slightly higher.

Yep.

Thank you, running shorts.

He misses another turn.

Suddenly the guy stops.

He crouches down and carefully sets the dog on the ground.

The dog immediately holds one paw slightly off the pavement.

Oh.

Great.

The dog's injured.

And now Eddie feels like an asshole.

Here he is thirsting over some guy who's been carrying his hurt dog around.

Then again…Why does that somehow make him even hotter?

Eddie desperately tries to think of a reason to approach.

Maybe the dog stepped on a bee.

Maybe there's glass.

Maybe…What exactly is Eddie supposed to do?

He's not a vet or something.

He has nothing to offer here.

Then the guy finally looks up.

And Eddie catches his first glimpse of his face.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

He's gorgeous.

Like insultingly gorgeous.

Eddie's so busy staring that he doesn't realize he's stopped walking, too.

Not until the guy's eyes meet his.

Eddie immediately jerks his gaze away. He glances around, pretends he's hopelessly lost, then spins on his heel and starts walking in the opposite direction.

His head hangs low.

His ears burn.

Eddie Munson is, at the end of the day, a very weak man.

[the-inspector-jones]

buckle (Steve)

part one here

What would I even say? I guess it's something that just never goes away… and you couldn't reply for three days. 

The first three days after THE fight, the fight to end all fights - the fight that had, apparently, ended all fights - Steve is fine. 

It's suspicious. It's concerning, even to him. And yet. He sleeps well, gets up with the sun to go running, makes it to work on time every day, and bakes bread for the bake sale without being asked. 

On day four, however, he wakes up to a ringing in his ears. An echo in his head that feels like he is concussed again. Only he hasn't run into any walls or bats or homophobic assholes lately, so he knows that's not the problem. He makes it through the day on painkillers and caffeine, and when he collapses onto his sofa at five, he falls asleep immediately and doesn't wake up until his phone alarm is going off the next morning. 

It’s a Saturday, but he skips morning basketball practice. Texts the assistant coach that he’s not feeling great. It isn’t a lie. This is how he discovers, though, that it’s not his head that’s echoing. It’s the house. 

It makes no sense. He’s spent so much time alone in this house. That’s always been a part of the problem. That’s always been the conversation with Eddie. He’d always meant to stay with Robin when Eddie was on tour, but he never quite did. He’d been here when he was alone. But this wasn’t that. 

This was an empty closet and a space in the garage where there were normally ten guitars and a driveway empty of a hideous, old van. This was empty air and dust in places where dust had never been able to settle, because Eddie’s trinkets and knick-knacks had taken up those surfaces.

Steve’s heart stutters to a near standstill when he opens the kitchen cupboard and notices that Eddie has taken his sasquatch mug with him, the one with the faded words ‘not all who wander are lost’ stamped around big foots shadowed form. 

It’s really over. 

He’d really said all those things.

He sits on the floor, curls his legs into his body, right there against the oven, and sobs until he can’t breathe. 

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington,” he says out loud when he finally loses the energy to cry. It feels good, so he keeps going. “You just can’t ever let yourself be content, can you?” 

Because that’s all this is. It had been seven years but the contentment of their lives had started to stifle him. Had started to feel like a noose that he’d slung around his own neck. And was he supposed to say any of that to Eddie? Was it supposed to turn into a diatribe about all the things that made Eddie, Eddie. Made him who he was, and were all the things he was most insecure about? “And what about you, Steve?” he spits into the air. “You’re an idiot, and you’re selfish, and you buy groceries that you never cook, and start fights you know you can’t finish, and you’ll never let anyone in the way you let him in, but you, what? Freaked out because you were overstimulated?” 

Speaking to the house does seem to hold the shadows back. He does it for weeks. He goes to movie nights with Robin, plays piano for the school choir, experiments with frosted tips that he chops off three days later. He tries to settle into the life he’d ostensibly wanted; the one that’s quiet and calm and predictable. 

Then you close the door and leave me screaming on the floor

Oh, baby, I just buckle, I can't take it anymore

Corroded’s mid tour, so the radios are all playing First Light ad nauseam. For the first month, Steve turns it off every time it comes on. He can’t hear Eddie’s voice scream ‘first light nestled somewhere in time’, knowing as he does that the lyric is from the moment Eddie opened his eyes and found Steve staring down at him in the hospital. He puts the album on at home, when he’s able to scream along. When he can cry without the possibility of anyone else seeing, without crashing his damn car. 

Robin tries to talk him into calling, but he can’t. He’s blocked Eddie’s number. He doesn’t know why he does it, but once it’s done, it’s too hard to undo. Too much to admit to himself; it’s possible Eddie hasn’t even noticed, and that thought hurts more than the actual act of fighting had. 

Then suddenly it’s spring break, and there’s a robin on his window, and then, like he’s in a trance, he’s in his car; his phone informs him that the band is only over in Nebraska; it’s so close. Only, what? Two tanks of gas. He has to try. He has to know that he can’t fix this, can’t salvage the thing he broke. 

He drives all day. 

But instead of his own courage standing in the way, it is a blonde woman with a severe ponytail and eyebrows that are so properly defined that they wound him just by arching at him. 

“Sir, I don’t know what you want me to say. I am not letting you upstairs without express permission of the person occupying the room.” “He’s my…he’s my husband.” The woman tilts her head, but doesn’t actually do anything with this information. It isn’t true, anyway. They’ve never bothered with the paperwork. Steve sighs, exasperated, and realizes his romantic gesture is dumb anyway. There’s no way Eddie actually wants to see him. So he pulls out his phone and calls him. Hangs up and calls again. Eddie’s definitely asleep, and he sleeps like the dead, so he calls a third time, hoping that the three months that have passed haven’t changed his habit of sleeping with the ringer on full volume. 

There’s a click and Steve has to force himself not to sob a desperate, embarrassing sound when it does. 

“Eddie? Eds, I'm downstairs and security won't let me up."

He waits. The silence is so painful. He feels the woman behind the desk’s eyes on his. He feels every twitch of his face as he tries not to collapse. After a moment, Eddie says his name. Just his name. There’s a comfort in that; he’s not being cussed out, not being told to go away. 

"Can I come up?" he says softly, letting Eddie process but growing heavy under the weight of the staring and the judgement. 

The lock clicks open as he approaches. Eddie had been watching him through the keyhold, had seen him come off the elevator. 

"You're in my room," Eddie says, voice rough and careless. Steve resists the urge to just run into his chest, cling to him . "You broke up with me, and you're standing in my room. In Omaha."

"Yes."

"Steve."

Oh, God, I thought I was too old for this, I should be over it I'm much too old for this, but I'm not over it

When he wakes up, Eddie is curled into his back, an arm thrown health haphazardly across his shoulder. They aren't facing each other and it feels like every morning they've spent together since they'd finally manged to get into the same bed. 

It isn't. 

Steve slides out of Eddie's grasp without waking him and decides this fancy ass hotel must have decent coffee. He likely has a few hours until Eddie wakes up. The day after a show and all that. He briefly realizes that finding Eddie in his hotel room had been a bit of luck; no after parties or private invites at celebrity houses. It might be interesting, the fact that Eddie had gone to bed before the sunrise, but Steve didn't have the energy to care. Eddie being a Rockstar and acting like one wasn't really the problem. As long as he came home to Steve. As long as he came home. 

And. Well. 

Fuck. 

He sat at the bar in the empty hotel restaurant and ordered a cappuccino and some tomato juice. He felt like he was twelve again, forgotten by his parents on one of their ‘business trips’.

“Well. I could have guessed all day about who they'd let up to Eddie's room last night, and I still don't know that I'd have landed on you, Harrington.”

He doesn’t even turn around. “Gareth, let's not.”

“Mhmm. Sure. I absolve you of causing this tour to be really fucking painful. You're forgiven for pointlessly leaving me with a heartbroken Munson. That how you think this is going to go?” 

“Look, I'm sorry. I'm here to fix it.”

“You're both idiotic. And too old to be doing this bullshit. What if we just agree that neither of you survives without the other and stop doing this? For the record, I told him to call you every day. For three months.”

He turns and smiles sadly. “Robin too,” he admits. 

“Smart woman,” he replies. He steps forward and opens his arms. He hasn't hugged Gareth in years. He stands, steps into the embrace. “Proud of you for breaking first. He's going to make you work for it.”

Steve nods, releases Eddie's best friend. “He deserves to. I was…well, you know.”

“I dunno, it seems like a lot of work for me to make you keep apologizing,” Eddie says from behind them. “Gare, morning. Think I can steal my husband?” 

Steve winces. Eddie's been to the desk already. He picks up his drinks and follows Eddie to a table by the windows. 

For a moment, they stare at each other. A tired looking waiter approaches carefully, and Eddie smiles, politely orders parfaits for both of them and another coffee. Steve's stomach flips. Eddie's kindness, his gentle politeness…it's one of Steve's favourite things about him. 

Suddenly, the list he'd forgotten to create is scrolling through his mind. 

Eddie always makes the bed. He remembers anniversaries and birthdays, never lets anyone go without being celebrated. He can tell when Steve has had a bad day by the way he pulls into the driveway, and he always seems to call Steve at the perfect time when he's on the road. He's snarky and hilarious and he doesn't care what people think of him. No, not that. He cares. He just doesn't let those opinions change him. It's a rare skill. 

And Steve had forgotten to appreciate it. 

“I am so sorry,” he murmurs. Suddenly, he can't look at Eddie. Suddenly, he can't bear to see himself reflected in Eddie's eyes. “I shouldn't be here. I—Eddie—”

“You,” Eddie says quietly. “Leave the toilet seat up and it's really fucking annoying. You don't put albums away when you're done with them. You avoid me when I'm sad or angry, and it sucks because all I want in those moments is for you to sit with me and agree that things suck. You collect people like strays and then act surprised when they are imperfect and broken. That they may sometimes not act the way you want them to. That they may sometimes disappoint you.”

“Maybe I should just—”

“Fortunately, you're also pretty good at SuperSmashBros. You make really good chicken cacciatore that I'd rather not learn to live without. Plus, you're brave and weirdly selfless, and I'm really glad you are so good at taking to customer service representatives because we both know we'd still be paying a hundred dollars more for cable if I'd had to deal with that alone.”

Steve laughs, but the sound is wet, fragile. He hadn't realized he'd started crying. 

“Steve, neither of us are incredible people. We're just…people. I love you. Like. More than is reasonable. And I should have called you right away, not let this thing linger for months. Because, yeah. I suck. So do you. But we're good at being crappy people together. Why would we mess with that?”

“Because I got scared I was too content.”

Eddie smirks. “That's pretty fucked up, dude. Even for you. Maybe we also do some therapy? Together?” 

“Feels fair. Can I…can I stay out here with you guys for the week? The house is too quiet.”

“You hate being on tour.”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah,” he allows. “But…”

“But you drove for ten hours?” Eddie smirks. Reaches a hand across the table. 

Steve takes it. “Is this forgiveness?” 

“It's a start,” Eddie says. “Though honestly, it's just because I don't want to miss any more bird photos.” 

“Yeah, that's fine. I just don't want to miss any more pie.”

They aren't perfect. A therapist spends the next six months walking them through that reality. They realize they've been studying their relationship through the lens of the kids. Through their friends. They make a better plan for when Eddie's on tour. One that isn't ‘hang on by your fingernails until it's over’. 

They aren't perfect and it's enough. It fits. It's worth bad days and the silence, and the moments where they are mean to each other. 

They aren't perfect but Steve is brave and closes cupboards. Eddie is kind and puts the seat down. 

The rest of it? None of it matters. 

I'll still be here hanging off, I'm hanging off, The buckle on your belt

[matchingbatbites]

Post-s4 where Eddie and Steve get close enough that Eddie starts poking fun at Steve for wearing tighty-whities. Steve knows that they've kind of been dancing around each other for a bit, so he takes the opportunity to force Eddie into making a move.

The next time Eddie comes over, he's lounging on Steve's bed when Steve comes out of the bathroom and says "Oh, I finally got some new underwear, by the way. Since you thought the others were so lame."

When Eddie looks over he falls off the bed because Steve is standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of white, lace panties. Steve grins and watches Eddie scramble to right himself.

"They're still tight and white," Steve says as his hands slide down to rub over his hips, "but I think they're much better than the other ones, don't you?"

Eddie isn't able to say anything in response because his eyes are locked onto Steve's crotch, on that beautiful panty-wrapped dick, but he somehow manages to nod.

Steve tuts and motions for him to come closer. "You can't see them properly from over there, silly. Come get a better look."

He watches Eddie swallow hard, and then his dick kicks under lace as he watches Eddie start to crawl across the floor. His face almost reverent when he finally places his hands on Steve's thighs, his voice rough as he gives a soft "Please..."

[morganbritton132]

Eddie: *picks up two drugged and injured ice cream salesmen off the road*

Robin:

Steve:

Robin: I can't believe we survived that

Steve: Yeah...How was seeing a hideous freak creature for the first time?

Eddie: ...?

Eddie 'the freak' Munson: *is a freak*

Eddie: *isn't even trying to be a freak creature so-*

Robin: Honestly, it-

Eddie: Is fucking uncalled for, man, and rude as hell to say.

Steve and Robin: *remembering that they fought a freak creature made of people who probably died*

Robin: You're right.

Steve: Sorry.