[fallen-evenstar]

I need more songs for my cherik playlist so please share songs that remind you of them, preferably angsty ones

[sparklyslug]

The (Monster-Hunting) Shop Around the Corner

Chapter Three

(Chapter One / Chapter Two)

A You’ve Got Mail AU For @steddiebang by @sparklyslug Art by @ahhrenata & @boiiko Betad by @aidaronan & @greenlikethesea

Wayne shoots him a furtive look. “In fact,” he says slowly. “I’d even say… you know, in this light I’d almost want to, you know, make the comparison, that he. He might have the… similar look in a way, to Steve.”

“What, Harrington?” Eddie groans, giddy butterflies shifting to do a different kind of dance. “Wayne, why would you even bring his name into this. You’re jinxing this magic night, man.”

“You don’t think Steve’s a… handsome man?”

“Do I think he’s a– I mean, I guess. He somehow didn’t peak at high school, the way he would have if there was any justice in the world.” Eddie trails off, gritting his teeth “But whatever, who cares about him? He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Wayne’s not looking in the window anymore, now leaning against the railing and patting his pockets for a cigarette. “All I’m saying is, if you don’t like the looks of Steve Harrington, you won’t like the look of this Captain Free boy of yours.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie sneers. “And why’s that?”

“Because it is Steve Harrington.”

read on ao3 chapter art here and also here!

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 3/6 Fandom: The Magicians (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh, Margo Hanson/Eliot Waugh, Fen/Eliot Waugh, Charlton/Eliot Waugh, Eliot Waugh/OMC Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Romance, Queliot endgame, but it’s a bit of a winding road, Friends to Lovers Summary:

Five times Eliot Waugh got married and one time he didn’t

[carbonbased000]

maybe!fic / untitled Peterick / reverse age difference

A/N: Writing has been such a struggle lately that I thought I’d try a different strategy! So here’s the start of something new and, hopefully, fun and low pressure. Credit to @andwhatyousaid for indulging me and brainstorming some ideas about this little fic several months ago. If you guys like it and want more I will do my best to write more, but I promise to everyone and especially myself that it’s not going to become a long WIP :)

>>if pete wentz wasn’t in fall out boy he would probably be fall out boy’s biggest fan and follow them around the country and get m&gs and be like “omg patrick i love u” [x]

Keep reading

[carbonbased000]

A/N: Since everyone has been so incredibly kind– seriously, I am amazed and humbled, you all are the best ever– here’s a new bit I just wrote. It’s short and it’s rough, but that’s the point, right? <333

Keep reading

[carbonbased000]

Thank you @maximilienderobespierre​​​ for the tags! These are excellent questions I would also like to know the answer to, so I went and looked at my ancient notes on my neglected fic gdrive folder and here’s what I think would happen– strictly in not!fic form, and with at least half of the credit to @andwhatyousaid​​ who brainstormed this with me way back then while (I’m sure) we should have both been working.

Keep reading

[maximilienderobespierre]

oh holy shit I was not expecting a response to my tag ramble! Love/hate the thought of Patrick, somehow a Pete-less rockstar, just stumbling on Pete several years in. That amount of enthusiasm would be pretty overwhelming, probably. Hate/love the sheer volume of self-doubt this version of Pete would probably be drowning in. Like, only intermittent interactions and infinite time to overanalyze? Recipe for Something alright.

@carbonbased000 thanks for the brain fodder, made my night :D

[carbonbased000]

maybe!fic / untitled Peterick / reverse age difference

A/N: Writing has been such a struggle lately that I thought I’d try a different strategy! So here’s the start of something new and, hopefully, fun and low pressure. Credit to @andwhatyousaid for indulging me and brainstorming some ideas about this little fic several months ago. If you guys like it and want more I will do my best to write more, but I promise to everyone and especially myself that it’s not going to become a long WIP :)

>>if pete wentz wasn’t in fall out boy he would probably be fall out boy’s biggest fan and follow them around the country and get m&gs and be like “omg patrick i love u” [x]

Keep reading

[carbonbased000]

A/N: Since everyone has been so incredibly kind– seriously, I am amazed and humbled, you all are the best ever– here’s a new bit I just wrote. It’s short and it’s rough, but that’s the point, right? <333

Keep reading

[laundrybiscuits]

wait for the season to come back to me

Now complete on AO3!

Rating: T Wordcount: 15k Summary:

Steve has never said yes to a guy named Jason. It’s so fucking stupid and pointless. Maybe he’s missed out on the love of his life by turning down Jason Jones or whoever, and it's not even like Jason was the only one responsible. But he just can’t. He can’t. The name ‘Jason’ never comes out of his mouth right. He thinks it’s probably not even about Eddie himself, like as a real person. Eddie was just some guy, some kid, who was funny and handsome and sweet and wild, who loved the things he loved as if nobody had ever told him not to. Eddie turns up in 1996, neither alive nor well.

[dadvans]

What makes you backclick out of a fic the fastest?

Bad punctuation

Purple prose

Look At How They Massacred My Blorbo (Characterization)

Formatting

Epithets

Wrong Dialect (ex. British fandom, not Britpicked)

Untagged Squick

Other (Leave in Comments!)

Voting ended onFeb 17, 2023

[dadvans]

we are all so picky and we are all being SO brave and silly about it, god bless

[laundrybiscuits]

(wait for the season to come back to me tag)

It takes them nearly two hours to get to Dustin’s place. Steve’s never really understood how Dustin can stand living so far out from the city, after growing up in a small town like Hawkins, but Dustin seems pretty happy with his yard and his dogs and everything.

The dogs in question start barking up a storm as they walk up to the door, Eddie trailing behind a few steps. He’s not subtle about how nervous he is, hood pulled up and hands tucked into his pockets. Steve’s sort of worried that he’s going to bolt, just disappear into the wilds of Wilmette, and Steve is never going to see him again.

Steve can hear Dustin getting closer to the door, yelling over the ruckus, “Jeez, settle down! It’s Steve, you know Steve!”

The door swings open, and Steve grabs Eddie’s sleeve to haul him inside before Dustin can get a good look, or react, or anything. Just, it’ll be better not to do this on the front lawn.

“Wow, Steve, rude. This is what you were being so mysterious about, a new girlfriend?”

“Not exactly,” says Eddie.

Dustin whirls around to look at him, really look at him beyond the mass of hair and slim build, and falls completely silent. Eddie lifts a hand in a weak little half-wave.

“It’s Eddie,” says Steve, unnecessarily.

“Steve,” says Dustin. “This isn’t funny.”

“See why I couldn’t say anything over the phone?” Steve huffs. “He’s right here and you don’t even believe it. He was—uh, actually, maybe Eddie should tell this part.” Steve hasn’t let go of Eddie’s sleeve, and he tugs at it. Eddie shuffles a little closer.

“Hey, buddy,” says Eddie. “Sorry about…leaving. Jesus, you got tall. Think you might be taller than Steve, now.”

“I’ve been trying not to take it personally,” says Steve.

“Prove it,” Dustin snaps. “If you’re really Eddie, tell me something only he would know.”

Eddie pushes a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I dunno. Um—oh, after our first Hellfire session together, you stayed behind to tell me I was running the game wrong. You had, like, an itemized list. Nearly kicked you out right then and there, but you said you'll get there in this super condescending way and I actually thought that was funny as hell."

Dustin’s eyes get wide. “What the fuck! Eddie? I mean—Eddie?”

“Yeah, man.” Eddie’s smiling; he looks like he might be tearing up.

Steve decides he probably isn’t needed for this part, and slips into the kitchen. The radio on the counter’s already playing, so he turns it up a little. He putters around, looks at the new backsplash and grabs a beer from the fridge. Dustin always has the weirdest freaking beers. The label on this one says it was made in some kind of European monastery. Steve doesn’t hate it, and he can tell it’s different from a standard-issue Heineken, but he doesn’t really get what Dustin likes about it. He thinks he might be too uncultured to appreciate the monks’ hard work, or something.

Steve’s just about finished the beer, all the way down to its funky sediment, and is trying real hard not to want to turn the radio down and eavesdrop, when he hears a crash from the living room.

He rushes in, heart racing, to see Eddie sprawled on the floor and rubbing his head. The ceiling lamp is swinging wildly.

“Guess what!” says Dustin. “Eddie can totally fly up to at least six feet if he starts from higher ground. We’re gonna try this outside next time and really figure out his upper limits.”

“Jesus, Dustin,” Steve groans, slumping in relief. “Give the guy a break. He’s been having tests run on him for the last decade, you don’t think they’ve figured out everything there is to figure out about…” he waves a hand in Eddie’s direction.

“It’s fine.” Eddie climbs to his feet. “I wasn’t the most cooperative subject for those dudes, so I don’t know how good their tests were.”

The word cooperative settles like monastic sediment in Steve’s gut. He’d been assuming that Eddie’d been at least sort of going along with the whole thing willingly, which in retrospect had been such a stupid thing to assume. He wants to set the whole fucking Hawkins Lab on fire. He wants to take a sledgehammer to every goddamn inch of the concrete that kept Eddie trapped and hurting. He—he takes a breath and unclenches his fists.

“Okay,” he says. “No more flying tests indoors, though. And, and definitely nothing else before we get some damn food in us. We having dinner tonight or what?”

[laundrybiscuits]

(wait for the season to come back to me tag)

“We still on for dinner this Thursday, or are you gonna reschedule again? Because I swear to god, Steve, I will break into your apartment and set up camp if I have to. It’s been years. Centuries.”

“It’s been a month, Henderson.”

“I barely remember who you are anymore. What’s your name again? How do I know you? We’re actually very happy with our current cable provider, thanks.”

God, that kid is such an asshole. Steve loves the shit out of him.

“Listen, I’ll see you on Thursday and explain everything, okay? Actually, uh—I’m kinda calling to give you a heads-up. Got some big news, so you should, like…brace yourself.”

Dustin’s quiet for a long, worrying moment.

“Steve. You have got to know that that’s the least helpful thing you could possibly say. You’re not even gonna give me a hint, man?”

“Wish I could. It’s not a bad thing, okay? Just big. Like…Upside Down big.”

“Okay, for my own peace of mind, I’m going to pretend you’re completely overreacting about the fact that you, like, got a dog or something.”

“I’m not—”

“Peace of mind, Steve! See you Thursday at my place! Don’t cancel or I’ll kill you!”

Steve’s left laughing into the dial tone. Honestly, he’d mostly called so Dustin couldn’t complain afterwards about not getting an advance warning. There’s just no way to hint at the whole Eddie thing without Eddie being present and accounted for; it would be the worst kind of cruel.

Steve can’t imagine what he’d have done to anyone who tried to tell him Eddie was alive without any kind of proof. It wouldn’t have been good.

“So we’re telling Henderson on Thursday?” Eddie jostles Steve’s shoulder. Steve thinks he’s been doing that a lot more lately.

“Seems like,” says Steve.

———

They take the train to Dustin’s place in Wilmette as soon as it gets dark out. Eddie’s bundled up in a nondescript hoodie and one of Steve’s denim jackets, looking like every other Chicagoan braced against the cool evening air.

They haven’t been going out all that much. Robin keeps asking if Eddie wants to do any tourist stuff, maybe the museums or something, but he always shrugs off the offers. Steve would’ve maybe expected him to want to get out and explore, now that he’s not cooped up anymore, but Eddie mostly seems to want to sleep, read, and watch TV.

Robin’s been on a campaign to educate Eddie about the ten years of pop culture he missed. “It’s essential for rehabilitation,” she says. Steve is pretty sure it’s just an excuse to make them rewatch all of Robin’s favorite movies, because some of the stuff she brings home was definitely already out in 1986.

Eddie draws the line at letting Robin show him music, though: “Nope, nuh-uh, no freaking way. I wouldn’t have listened to that shimmery synth shit if I’d been alive and free every single day of the last decade, and I’m not gonna listen to it now.”

Steve does have a few metal cassettes, but he feels weird about bringing them out. It feels like he’s crossing a line, somehow—admitting to something. So instead, they’d all traipsed over to the Tower Records a few blocks over, and let Eddie roam around sampling things.

To Steve’s surprise, Eddie hadn’t actually picked up that many metal albums. He'd grabbed the new Accept and some Alice in Chains, sure, but he also picked up Nirvana and Soundgarden. He had gotten into a conversation with a very helpful clerk that ended with the clerk scribbling a number on a business card and handing it over with a grin and a promise to make Eddie try some local act called Wilco next time.

Obviously Steve’s happy that Eddie’s making friends and charming people. He’s legitimately fucking thrilled that other people are finally seeing how great Eddie is, because Eddie deserves that. Eddie deserves the world, and if he wants to date some random clerk, he should get to.

It’s just that if Eddie Munson comes back from the dead to start dating some random clerk, Steve is going to have to go live at the bottom of Lake Michigan. That’s all.

[acowardinmordor]

Thank christ everyone in Hawkins already thought he was a freak. Freezing mid-word in a monologue while the memory of his own failing pulse faded from his ears was exactly as weird as the fact that he was delivering the monologue from on top of a cafeteria table. The students who were ignoring him continued ignoring him. The ones paying attention waited for whatever dramatic continuation he’d have after a pause.  

Eddie waited on the table, staring across the room to look at Chrissy Cunningham for a few seconds, then hopped down, speech abandoned, with scattered jokes in the room around him.

“Henderson,” he snapped as a summons, then headed for the exit. 

“What was that dude? You were just getting going.”

“No talking.” He spun, holding up a finger dramatically. “Come with me, I need your brain.”

“In a zombie way or in a Dustin is Always Smarter than Me way?”

That didn’t get an answer, and Eddie didn’t speak again until he got to storage room off the stage, flipping on the red gelled lights, and closing the door. 

“Alriiiiight. Ed, this is getting super weird now. You planning on explaining why I don’t get to finish lunch? You gonna talk before I miss class? I know you don’t care, but I actually go to my classes, it makes it much easier to pass them you know?”

Unusually still, Eddie slumped against the wall, and fiddled with his rings.

“Do you think if Frodo knew what it was going to cost to destroy the ring -- Before it started and Gandalf showed up. Like. If Frodo knew that it was -- Or, no, wait, if Sam knew what was going to happen, do you think he could have stopped it? Everything that went wrong?”

“Uhhhh. What? This is why we’re here? To talk about Lord of the Rings?”

“Just do your thing, Dusty-buns. Be the smart kid in the room. If Sam knew what was coming, could he have made it better?”

“Okay, you gotta stop getting high during school, dude, but sure, I can indulge your random thought exercise for a minute. I think if Sam knew what was coming, he wouldn’t have let Frodo leave the Shire. No hobbits in the Fellowship at all.”

Eddie winced. “Yeah, probably true. Sam was the smart one. But say he didn’t... run away. Say he wasn’t a coward about it. Could he fix things if he knew about stuff, or would trying make it worse?”

“Eddie,” Dustin prodded suspiciously, “Did you actually read your homework about Oedipus and now you’re trying to make it about a book you like? Wait. Are you trying to make me do your homework for you?”

“Just answer it, you brat. If he could change things, does he go all out? Explain it to Gandalf from the beginning? Make sure they skip Moria? Does he wait until the last minute so things don’t do the butterfly thing and he has more control to help? Does he practice with a sword or fight the barrow wights or make Elrond send Glorfindel with them? What would he -- what should he do? If he knew what was coming.”

An eye roll. Christ, the attitude on this kid.

“Dude, you’re weird today. This is for the campaign, isn't it? Great. But you know I’m going to figure out your surprise early because of this, and it’s going to ruin it for me. So you owe me big time. I want to roll with advantage the entire session today.”

Dustin paused to think, but the response came fast enough that he must have thought about it before.

“Your question doesn't really matter. If Sam knew what was coming for some reason, before it all started, then he already changed everything. It doesn’t matter if he wants to be subtle. He already started the butterfly effect. Just knowing it’s coming would make it all different even if he didn’t mean to change things. Sam would trust Strider sooner. He’d try to keep them safe in the Barrow Downs. Or, I don’t know man, he’d pack extra waterskins to make it easier to get across Mordor and that would slow him down and get him killed before they left the Shire. 

“Or the other option: it’s like Oedipus, and everything he does to save them ends up changing nothing. Fate and shit. But you asked about what he should do, dude, so. That’s an easy answer. He has to try. No choice. Either he can make things better or he can't. But he has to try. Spiderman and Uncle Ben, that’s the answer to this ridiculous scenario,” Dustin finished with a shrug. 

“That was talking about having super powers.”

“Uncle Ben was talking about everything. With great power…”

“Comes great responsibility,” Eddie finished.

“And knowledge is power. No choice.”

“So Sam Gamgee should just yell fuck it, and go all out, huh?” Eddie muttered, flopping himself into a sprawl over a musty chair.

“You really gotta stop getting high in the bathroom during second period, man.”

The red gel over the lights was to stop spill during shows. One of the bulbs was dying, and making the glow flicker a bit. Not lightning, no switch to creepy blue-grey in between, no bats screeching or flecks of death lingering in the air. A reminder though. Enough of one.

Dustin glanced at the flicker, and the flinch Eddie would have ignored a week ago made sense now that Eddie knew what could follow. The exasperated look, and the bit of indulgence as he let Eddie have his dramatics made the memory -- Memory? Vision? Prophecy? -- of Dustin sobbing above him a sharper contrast. 

“You done?” Dustin asked, “cause I’m still hungry.”

Standing up, cracking his knuckles against his jaw, Eddie snagged the kid into a tight hug. “Ah my good young adventurer,” he said as he pulled away to hold him by the shoulders, “We’re just getting started.”

Pretending to be normal and giving a performance made his skin crawl, so he went back to a serious expression.

“Okay dude, seriously, what is wrong with you today?”

Christ, Dustin was going to be insufferable when he found out that he was Eddie’s first choice when he had a life altering crisis over a shift in his understanding of the universe. That he was where he went for advice. And that Eddie followed his advice. He was going to be awful, and Eddie really hoped he'd be around to suffer through it.

“Go tell Hellfire that tonight’s session is canceled.”

“What!?”

“Then grab Robin and find out if Steve is at work today.”

“WHAT? You don’t even like--”

“Then get your radio, get the rest of the party, and definitely get Max. We’re all ditching out the rest of the day. Meet me at my van. Nancy can take some of you. I’ll get the rest.”

“...Eddie?” Dustin’s voice wobbled a bit that time. He was starting to put it together. 

“Yeah, man,” Eddie confirmed on a loud exhale. “I’ve gotta go talk to a cheerleader and try not to get punched because of it. You gotta get the others.”

“Eddie,” the plea, the denial in his voice was fucking painful.

“Sorry, buddy. It’s Code Red.”

[laundrybiscuits]

(wait for the season to come back to me tag)

Eddie doesn’t want to tell the kids yet. Steve kind of understands, but he also knows Dustin’s never going to forgive him for holding out like this. He cancels his biweekly lunch with Dustin twice before sitting Eddie down and saying, “We gotta tell him something.”

“Fuck off,” says Eddie.

“He’s twenty-five years old. He can handle it.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“What the hell are you worried about, then?” Steve snaps. “I can’t keep lying to him, man! It’s not fucking fair! Just because you—”

“Steve,” says Robin. “Come on. Cool your jets, hotshot.”

Steve realizes he’s been kind of yelling, then. He also realizes that he’s standing over Eddie, who’s folded into a defensive crouch, and Eddie’s nails are in serious danger of ripping the couch cushions open. Eddie doesn’t look scared, exactly, but his face has gone inhumanly still and blank. It’d probably be worrying if there was any space in Steve for worry.

The anger’s still roaring full-tilt through Steve, though. He gets like this sometimes for no goddamn reason at all, and he knows it’ll pass in a minute, but right now the urge to break something is so, so strong.

“Fuck,” he snarls, and wheels around, storming into the kitchen.

He runs the tap just so there’s some noise as he tries to get his shit under control. Robin comes in after a little while.

“I’m—going to the gym,” Steve says, still gripping the sink hard.

“Okay,” says Robin. “Be safe.”

———

When he comes back, Eddie’s not in the living room.

“I told him he could hang out in my room for a while,” Robin says, before Steve can work himself up into a panic. “I think it would be good for him to have, like…his own private space. Not—I’m not talking about kicking him out, obviously. But maybe we could figure out a partition or something in the living room?”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” says Steve. “God. I’m so sorry. He knows I’m sorry, right?”

Robin flicks him on the forehead. “Yeah, he gets it, dingus. I think he called you an ambulatory fountain of penitence once. Like, a perpetual apology machine.”

“Sure,” says Steve. “Got a lot to apologize for.”

“Nope, we’re not doing that,” says Robin, patting him gingerly on the shoulder. “I’d hug you but you’re all gross and sweaty. Go shower, you’ll feel like a person again.”

He does feel like a person again after a shower, but the Dustin question still hasn’t been figured out. He tries to bring it up again after a few days.

“I wouldn’t even have told you guys I was back if you hadn’t kidnapped me,” says Eddie, picking at his dinner. Vegan stuff is usually okay, weirdly enough, so Steve’s been learning to cook with tofu. He’s not sure if Eddie actually gets anything out of it on a nutritional level; he hasn’t asked.

“Yeah, I know,” says Steve. He’s trying pretty hard not to get mad again. It keeps him up sometimes, thinking about how easily Eddie could’ve wandered into a different bar that night. He hopes that they would’ve crossed paths sometime anyway, being in the same city and all, but maybe not. He just doesn’t know.

“So you get it, right?” says Eddie. “Why I don’t want to put that on the kids. They’ve all, like…processed it and everything. They’ve moved on, just like you did before I came back and fucked up your life again. And you didn’t even really know me.”

It’s not like he’s saying it in a mean way, but it’s deliberate. He’s watching Steve carefully to see how it lands. Steve takes a deep breath; he can do this right, this time.

“Eddie,” he says. “You know I’m glad you’re back, right? You’re not fucking up my life, I’m happy you’re here.”

“You seem a little stressed for a guy who’s supposed to be happy.” Eddie leans back and smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. “Just seems sometimes like maybe it would’ve been better for you if I’d stayed, like, a story from your past.”

“No,” says Steve. “No. No. Never. It—might’ve been less complicated, maybe. But not better.”

Eddie looks down at his plate, silently fiddling with the golden-brown chunks of fried soy protein, and Steve realizes it might not just be about how the kids will react.

“Hey. You know it’s going to be fine, right? Dustin loves you. He wants you in his life, whatever that means, and you know he’s not gonna do anything to make you uncomfortable. Plus, he lives like one town away and has his own car, so if I keep putting him off like this he’s just gonna show up here one day and then we’ll really be screwed.”

It’s kind of a joke but it’s also really, really true. Eddie laughs, some of the tension finally dropping out of his shoulders, and says: “Okay. You’ve worn me down, Harrington. Alert the brat pack.”

[darkfinch]

ok but what is YOUR favourite eliot fight. which eliot fight did they choreograph for YOU specifically

[laundrybiscuits]

(me: gosh I think I need a break from all the hanahaki angst

also me: what if I...just wrote an offshoot bit about Eddie not confessing and actually getting the cut...like just a tiny bit of angst. miniscule. barely anything. not a big deal.

This will probably not make any sense unless you've read palm split with a flower with a flame and honestly maybe not even then. Spoilers for that fic, obvs.)

Eddie’d given Steve a little notebook, right before he went in. He’d looked Steve in the eye, intense the way he gets sometimes, and said, “I’m—probably gonna be, um. Disoriented, or something, when I get out. Give me this as soon as possible and it should help. Do not fucking open it, Harrington, or I swear to god I will shave your head and abandon you in a truck stop bathroom.”

Steve had rolled his eyes. He’s not the nosy type. “Whatever, sure,” he’d said.

Now he’s wishing he’d pushed a little harder. Asked more questions. Because when Steve was finally let into Eddie’s recovery room, Steve had said “Hey, man,” trying to rein in all the crashing relief he was feeling, and Eddie had just squinted at him foggily from the bed. Quiet like he never usually was.

He’s disoriented, or something, Steve had reminded himself. So Steve had fished out the notebook and handed it over; Eddie had said “...uh, thanks,” kind of cautiously. Eddie had opened it up and Steve could see that it was filled with cramped handwriting. It had seemed private, so Steve had left. Eddie hadn’t seemed to notice.

And now, a couple days into their drive back to Hawkins, Eddie is acting fucking weird. Steve’s trying to believe it’s just the, like, medical effects or something, but it doesn’t seem like it. There’s nothing specific he can call Eddie out on, it’s just stuff like—Eddie never calls him “Harrington” anymore. It’s so dumb that Steve’s even noticing something like that. It’s not like Eddie only ever called him Harrington before, but usually when Eddie had called him by his first name, it had been either teasing or completely sincere, no in between. Now, Eddie’ll just say stuff like “Pass the ketchup, Steve.”

That’s another thing. Before, Eddie would have leaned all the way over the Burger King booth or whatever to just take the ketchup, sometimes right out of Steve’s hands. Steve can hear the Robin in his head going oh so now you’re complaining that he’s learned some manners? Which is totally unfair. Steve’s not actually complaining about anything at all, he’s just arguing with a voice in his head, so maybe he’s the one who needs some kind of surgery to fix him.

Steve rubs absently at his chest. He hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t wish he had the bloom anymore. And he’d never say this to Eddie, how goddamn tactless would that be, but…he still kind of likes the romance of the idea. Because if somebody blooms for you, that means they love you for real. There’s no hiding it or lying about it.

Obviously it’s sad and it sucks, especially for people like Eddie who can’t even tell the guy he’s in love with. But Steve’s also really frustrated that Eddie had this huge secret—not the gay thing, but kind of the gay thing, maybe. Steve just wants to know who almost killed Eddie, and why Steve doesn’t know who it is. It just feels like every time Steve thinks okay, yeah, I know Eddie Munson pretty well, something happens and he feels like he doesn’t know Eddie at all.

Eddie’s got all these completely different parts to him, is the thing. He’s a metalhead, he’s a fantasy nerd, he’s a drug dealer. And he’s apparently been in gay love with some random guy that Steve doesn't even know—so deep in love that it came pretty close to killing him.

Not anymore, thinks Steve viciously. He’s not yours anymore.

It doesn’t matter how weird Eddie is acting right now, or even if he never gets back to the way he was again. Steve will take care of him for as long as he’s around.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

Visit Original Link

so @greenlikethesea wrote a fantastic new Shotguns song, and this has in turn inspired me to write a new Shotguns song.

album art by @melrows. this song and the whole concept of this project is inspired by @greatunironic's seminal fic the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you.

LYRICS Found a metaphor and chased it wrote a love song then erased it I would tell you I'm doing fine— but I can't be trusted half the time

Unreliable narrator lying in a smoking crater “Pretty sure it's meant to bleed that way—“ but it 's all bullshit, the things I say Oh and here I stay up late stack of notebooks, dirty plates beg the shadows to relate I see your scars when I close my eyes and I am shaking when I wake It's the wreckage all over no one can say what drove her straight into the rocks below

it's the wreckage all over no one can say what drove her but that doesn't mean that no one knows

Took your call like it was nothing Cracking jokes, frantically bluffing If I'm honest do I hope that you go right along or see right through?

So we skate across the surface Pray like Hell we won't disturb this Tell me that our friends are all alright, and that could just get me through the night

What we do now not to drown dredge it up and write it down running til our temples pound I will ward sleep off with coffee blinking when the ship's aground It's the wreckage all over could be lying 'neath the clover in another life I am

it's the wreckage all over could be lying 'neath the clover instead I'm living on the lam Found a metaphor and chased it wrote a love song then erased it I would tell you I'm doing fine— but I can't be trusted half the time

[idiopath-fic-smile]

It's here! @greenlikethesea's and my tribute cover album to Girl With A Buzzcut from @greatunironic's the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you, is now available as a fully downloadable album on bandcamp!

Featuring album art by @bienmoreau (whyhazelwhy on twitter if you wanna commission something), all remastered tracks, and extensive liner notes from me and @greenlikethesea about what The Shotguns' music means to us personally.

Track List:

Trailer Trash

The Pines

We'll Never Have Sex

Girl With A Buzzcut

Going to Pittsburgh

The Devil Won't Keep 'Til Morning

Chrissy's Song

(BONUS) I Wore His Jacket

(BONUS) To Be With You In Hell

Each track is $1 or you can buy the album (plus two bonus tracks) for $7. You can stream or download on Bandcamp. All profits will go to the Indiana Youth Group, a nonprofit dedicated to supporting LGBTQ+ young people in Indiana.

A tremendous thank you to @bienmoreau for letting us use the fantastic cover image, to @greatunironic for creating brilliant and evocative work that inspired this whole effort, to @greenlikethesea who is so talented and a dream to work with, and to everyone who encouraged this quixotic little project.

<3

[not-aliens]

[alothcorfisers]

Tell that boy I'l leave you alone now Like a stove, I’ll turn my love down