He knows he may not be the only one who gets "birthday blues" but he feels like it's a lot deeper than just the blues.
When he got closer with Eddie and learned of his own shitty upbringing, he thought it'd be a bonding moment for them. Eddie has to hate his birthday too, right?
Wrong.
Despite Eddie’s mom dying when he was only six, and Eddie’s dad being a deadbeat, leaving Eddie on his own before Uncle Wayne took him in, Eddie loved his birthday.
The Munsons may not have been rich but Wayne always did his best to provide Eddie with new(er) clothes, or dice, or guitar picks. A new album or poster for his bedroom walls. Maybe even his favorite food at the diner--something they didn't do often as they usually survived on box cereal and spaghetti-Os.
And when Al Munson finally rolled into town conveniently around his only child's birthday, well he'd give the sort of shitty, low-commitment gift only a father could give.
And Eddie looked forward to it all the same. One or two shitty presents in six years is better than none when it comes to his father. He'd take what he could get.
So, when Eddie's birthday comes and goes and Steve gets invited to his and Wayne's get together with the kids, and then a later party with the members of Corroded Coffin--well of course Steve goes. And he showers Eddie with love and meaningful but still kinda pricey presents, because he can. And he wants to. Despite the merciless teasing he endures. The look on Eddie's face makes Steve feel like he's the one that got the greatest gift of all.
This, of course, all falls apart when Eddie points out Steve's own birthday must be coming up, and he's right. And because he has no tact he announces in front of everyone who realizes in horror that they've gone years of knowing Steve and celebrating his birthday exactly zero times.
Steve's equally horrified now because now everyone is tripping over their feet desperately trying to make it up to him with cakes and ice cream and movies and handmade cards and weird action figures Eddie probably would have liked better.
It's only after Steve gracelessly accepts all of their gift-giving, and fends off at least three panic attacks and two migraines that he has to put on his bitch voice and scream that the only thing he wants for his birthday is to be left alone.
And like usual, the kids do not listen.
Until Eddie steps in. He makes them go, Robin too, even if she is pissed about it. But they go when Eddie assures them that Steve probably just feels a little overwhelmed right now and needs some space.
He's close to leaving too, knowing he may have made a mistake and should probably get out of his hair... But then Steve starts crying and Eddie has to stay.
It's not loud or ugly, just these little, tiny pitiful things like Steve is trying his damnest to not cry. Like the act of tears falling would kill him.
Eddie cautiously slides next to his shaking form on the couch, careful not to jostle him too much.
He bites his lip as he experiments with placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.
Steve tenses under his touch until Eddie speaks,
"Stevie, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. None of us did."
His parents were hardly around. Never gave him practical toys he wanted, just whatever they thought a boy should have to shape him into a "proper young man", if they thought he needed toys at all. No parties. Ever. He briefly wanted to throw ragers when he realized he was old enough and his parents wouldn't be home, they never were, but those made him feel even worse so he got used to spending the day like any other. All alone in a big, empty house. Not a home.
Eddie continues to rub soothing circles into Steve's back as he lets it all out, explaining his woes as best he can through a sore throat and runny nose. Eventually he pulls Steve into a proper hug-turned-cuddle until his breathing steadies and he isn't shaking anymore.
"I'm sorry." Eddie holds his breath, hoping it doesn’t trigger another panic attack.
"No--don’t be. Thank you."
"For what? Making you cry?"
"For caring enough to bring it up, even if it was a lot. But mostly for being here, after. Just..."
Steve didn't have to finish his sentence. Eddie knew what he was trying to say.
Thank you for staying. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for loving me.
"Always, Stevie. I'll always be here for you."
Steve squeezes him, and Eddie squeezes back once, twice.
20-21 year olds following me is fine, idec about 19-18 year olds (I just won't follow back/interact) but ANYONE OLDER THAN 23 FOLLOWS ME AND SUDDENLY IM BARKING LIKE A DAMN DOG
Do you have any personal HCs about our beloved Peter Parker?
oum love this!! here's a quick and christmasy headcanon for how you met and fell in love with college!peter parker is like 🤍
sweet boy - tasm!p.p.
SUMMARY: meeting our sweet boy, peter.
WARNINGS: just fluff!
the following work is my own writing. do not plagiarize or copy and paste my works onto another platform. message me about credit.
MASTERLIST
Peter doesn't make much contact or communication with girls, so when you ask him for a bookmark one day because you didn't bring one for the new book you're reading, he freezes. He slowly hands you a bookmark that read "I like big books and I cannot lie". You sincerely laughed at it and said it was cute.
That's when Peter fell in love with you.
From then on, he returned to the library every day in his free time with hopes of seeing you again. He would occasionally catch you studying or browsing for new books, which was the perfect opportunity for awkward small talk.
And every time he saw you, he noticed that you always carried a small bookmark with the dorkiest book pun on it.
Eventually, he stopped seeing you around the library. He tried to seem as inconspicuous as possible, but when he didn't have his daily chat with you he would leave the library in a considerably worse mood.
In fact, it was about two weeks that he just simply didn't see around campus. He was starting to become nervous. Did you think he was weird for always wanting to talk? Were you avoiding him? If so, this wouldn't have been the first time Peter messed up his chances with a pretty girl.
He'd been hoping you were more than that, though. He felt in his heart that you were perfect for him, since the day you scrunched your nose and laughed at his lame bookmark.
Then, by a miracle, two days before Christmas break, he saw you wearing one of the ugliest, therefore greatest Christmas sweaters he'd even seen. It even had tiny little light bulbs that illuminated. "Nice sweater," he managed to cough up next to you while you were studying. "You're, uh...you're really sleighing it."
It took a small moment to understand what Peter was actually trying to say, but when you did, your cheeks turned red and you struggled to hold in your laugh. "I'm sorry, that was really horrible. I can do so much better, I promise."
"No, I loved it! Puns seem to be your thing?"
You remembered him. Even better, you still had the bookmark saving your place in the new book you'd started a few days ago.
Peter blushed heavily and thought to himself. "How about..." he pondered. "...Love you head to mistletoe?"
You smirked to yourself, biting your lower lip. You tried to hide how much you were blushing as well, but it was no use. You and Peter were just a beet-red girl and boy in a library. "You're mistle-toeing the line." You internally cringed until he smiled.
You realized you'd never once told him your name and he'd never told you yours. "I'm (y/n)."
He turned an even deeper shade of red and his smile twitched as he tried to compose himself. "I'm Peter. Peter Parker."
