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sp0o0kylights · 4 months

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Part One

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table.

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent.

It smelled mockingly delicious.

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it.

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he?

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean.

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead.

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.”

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--”

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war. Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering.

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies.

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of said cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him.

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway.

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up.

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation.

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted.

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!”

(And he did say ‘Steve.’

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.)

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies.

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work. “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.”

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes.

Eddie hated how good he looked too.

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl.

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet.

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over.

(Their characters were dead too.)

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.”

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!”

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table.

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings.

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales.

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems.

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy.

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos.

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to presumably another annoying woman;

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!”

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them.

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sheer number of them.

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both took a step back. “Come on, we need to get our gold!”

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly.

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process.

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front.

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP. )

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.”

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately.

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper.

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do.

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.)

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked.

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit.

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.”

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible.

Get him to help Harrington.

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!”

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly.

“I’m supervising.”

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it.

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.”

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour.

xXx

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington?

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield in high school?

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about his stupid eyes, he wasn't!)

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making.

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though.

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while the King enjoyed the attention of the masses.

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Harrington would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew.

To defend his table, his club, his friends.

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then.

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood.

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.”

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear.

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting;

“How delightful. I--”

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?”

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again.

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!?

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking on the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s actually been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?”

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror.

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with.

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return.

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?”

Eddie gaped.

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

“You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.”

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy.

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.)

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.”

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder.

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.”

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here.

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys.

In Eddie’s fucking place.

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all.

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done, as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.”

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it.

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of innervation.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice.

Sonovabitch.

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkin, Harrington and everyone.

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even?

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this?

Been a douchebag asshole?

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marking her as a member of the band kids who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier.

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what he was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself right into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault.

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall.

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words.

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway.

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation if they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!”

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?”

“...I’m not following.”

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly. So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway.

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth.

“Not so loud, Steve!”

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?”

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--”

“Robs, breathe.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath.

It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear.

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!”

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots.

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.)

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out.

You know, in a gay way.

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of.

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground.

Eddie’s head exploded.

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely.

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!”

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!”

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?”

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?”

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high.

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire.

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hayesflint · 6 days

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZEB!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEVE BLUM!!

Hera is very proud of the cake she baked for you!!

#happy birthday steve blum #garazeb orrelios #zeb orrelios #alexsandr kallus #agent kallus #hera syndulla #sabine wren #jacen syndulla #star wars rebels #sw rebels #star wars #ghost crew #kalluzeb fanart #kalluzeb

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somanywords · 29 days

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it's been how long? yeah no, yeah i'm fine. totally fine and normal about it, just going about my day. (kiss me once and kiss me twice and kiss me once again) yeah it's cool. (shared life experience) totally normal! (i'm with you till the end of the--) OH MY GOD I'M INSANE I'M INSANE I AM RIPPING AND BITTING WITH MY TEETH I AM THROWING THINGS

#catws #captain america the winter soldier #stevebucky #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #happy birthday hon. you deserve the world #cass rambles

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fairyrona · 2 months

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when everything's made to be broken (i just want you to know who i am) by @hoteadepresso pt 1

‘Stop.’ Will forced out, shaking his head in disbelief, hurt painting his features ‘Mike, that’s not funny. It’s mean.’ He thought he was joking. Mike was throwing his bleeding heart onto his floor, and he thought it was some sort of a prank. Fuck. ‘You really think I would joke about it?’ his voice sounded like it came from far away, weak and broken. His hand twitched, yearning to touch Will, to take his hand, to brush his fingertips against his warm skin for just one second even if that was all he could ever get.

late happy birthday present for Alex, the bestestest person out there!!!

a little bit of backstory; Once upon a time user @hoteadepresso wrote a fic (click here!!) (read it, its fucking amazing!!!!!!) which I immediately wanted to make fanart of, so, ofc it took me like, over a year to finish just this pt 1 <33

thus, the artstyle changes, which are a thing in this thing

#happy!!!! birthday!!!! cant wait to see u tomorrow xxxxxxxxxxxxx #byler #will byers #stranger things #mike wheeler #st5 #my art #byler fanart #will byers fanart #also this had long haired mike at first but #changes were made #also #a genuine question #to americans #HOW do your windows work #is it physically possible for mike to get himself into that room #bc i was basing this on the fact that mike is cat liquid #the biggest supernatural thing in this is mike getting on the garage roof of the steve's house and into that room #yeah #mike's hairy legs are a paid actor actually bc i dont think he could grow these #all the hair is on the head for this guy #oh and yes the byers are living with steve #bc #yes #forced proximity is the shit #HOWEVER #forced distance?????? the food of gods #oh and the next part is in the works #see you next march 6th maybe #if the quality gets absolutely wrecked im offing myself

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yourbuckies · 10 months

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stevebucky + shared life experience | @stucky-week

#stucky #stevebucky #stevebuckyedit #steverogers #buckybarnes #steverogersedit #buckybarnesedit #marveledit #mcuedit #sebastian stan #chris evans #mine #happy belated birthday steve!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i hate the new editor so much

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mixsethaddams · 1 year

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Eddie and Steve were sitting on the back porch of the little two bedroom house that Owens and his merry band of government lackies gave to the Munsons in exchange for signed NDAs.

It was getting late and Steve knows he should go home, but Eddie keeps finding new conversations to strike up and it just feels too natural to keep responding. Getting up and announcing he was going home would be downright rude. The deckchair he was lounging in was confortable too, so it just made more sense to stay.

Eddie passed Steve the joint they had been nursing between them. Steve had lost track of what they were talking about a long time ago. He was too caught up in the low rumble of Eddie’s voice, quiet enough to make it feel like they were sharing secrets even if they were all alone with nothing scandalous to say. It didn’t matter what Eddie was saying. Steve was happy to just listen. The subtle fizz of the weed spread across his skin as he leaned his head back and enjoyed the light breeze that cut through the warm night.

Today was the same as every other day.

Steve woke up, showered, picked Robin up for work, and then spent eight hours rewinding tapes. He listened to her go on and on about her latest discovery of why Vickie was the perfect person, adding commentary where needed. Steve was happy for her, he was. He just wished she wasn’t so distracted. Not today.

And then he ferried Mike to Dustin’s, Will to the hospital to visit Max, brought Lucas home from the hospital so he could shower and then right back over again. He was barely through the door when Eddie called and asked how his day was, insisting Steve come over to hang out when he heard it was just ‘fine, average, nothing special’.

Steve had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the couch with a terrible tv movie in the background. There was something about Eddie, though. Something in the way he moved, the way he said Steve’s name and dragged his teeth along his bottom lip over the V sound. The thoughts of staring at the stars with Eddie might just be the one thing that could redeem today. Even if no one else would understand.

Steve arrived thirty seconds before two large pizzas, courtesy of one of Argyle’s buddies in the business. They each had all Steve’s favourite toppings. Which was weird because Eddie definitely didn’t like olives or pineapple. Steve had a cold beer in one hand and hot slice in the other before he even said ‘hello’.

If there was any way Steve wanted to spend the final hours of today, it was with Eddie. He knew why, of course. He bit his tongue every time he got close to saying it out loud, but he knew exactly what that something was.

“And I figured hey, if it means I don’t have to sell weed to highschoolers anymore, then why not, you know?”

Steve’s brain took a second to catch up to Eddie’s train of thought about his new job. He was going to be working in a garage with Reefer Rick’s nephew.

“Totally,” said Steve, sipping the mostly empty bottle in his hand, the liquid warmed by being held so long. “I bet you’ll be great at it too,”

“Yeah well,” said Eddie, quirking his eyebrows. “I hope so,”

They fell into silence again and Steve started to think it might not be rude to leave any more. The joint was down to the nub, the beer was gone, and Eddie’s eyelids were looking heavy.

“I should, uh…” said Steve, shifting his weight on the chair to stand up.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” asked Eddie, looking up at the moon. Steve could see its reflection in his eyes.

Steve stopped.

“Tell who?” he asked. “Tell them what?”

Eddie sighed.

“It’s your birthday, man…” breathed Eddie. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh…” said Steve. He could feel his face heat up. “I don’t… I guess its not a big deal for me… Not for years…”

Eddie nodded solemnly.

“You’re too good for us, Harrington,” said Eddie, shaking his head. “I saw what you did for Robin’s birthday. Did she remember, at least?”

Steve didn’t say anything. He knew he’d probably get a frantic apology and a card tomorrow. It wasn’t like he was going to hold it against her.

“Pizza and beer isn’t exactly the five star treatment you deserve,” said Eddie. “Hope it’s enough to, you know, make today not suck entirely,”

Eddie waved his hand around in a circle, as if gesturing to the very day itself.

“This actually might be the best end to a birthday I’ve ever had,” admitted Steve. “So, you know, thanks. For doing this for me, I mean,”

“Thanks for eating all the olives,” joked Eddie, draining his beer bottle. “Besides, any excuse to hang out with you, I’ll take it,”

“Yeah?” asked Steve, his voice smaller than he expected.

“Yeah,” answered Eddie gently. “I like being with you,”

Steve’s stomach lurched. He followed Eddie’s gaze to the moon. She was beautiful tonight and Steve felt safe the cool glow she cast over them.

“How did you know?” asked Steve, playing with the hem of his sweater. “Or like, care?”

“Saw it on your license a whole back,” Eddie answered, lighting two cigarettes at once and handing one to Steve. “And I cared because… Because I care. I didn’t want you to be sad on your birthday,”

“Oh,” said Steve meekly. “I’m not sad. Not now. I’m happy now, so it worked,”

Steve took the offering of the cigarette and sat back in his chair, looking at his hand and the subtle hint of ‘don’t go’.

“Did you have a birthday wish?” asked Eddie, holding up the still-lit match. It was burning quickly down towards his fingertips.

“Just one…” said Steve slowly, looking through the flame at Eddie.

“A person?” asked Eddie.

Steve gulped, and nodded.

“So make it,” Eddie said. “Don’t tell me, or it won’t come true,”

Steve blew out the flame, still gazing into brown eyes, watching them turn black when the light was gone.

Eddie’s watch beeped. It was midnight.

“Didn’t come true,” said Steve sadly, his eyes still fixed on the point where Eddie had been holding the match between them.

“Give it time…” said Eddie softly.

Steve took a long drag of his cigarette and wondered if this is what every night would be like. If his wish came true and he got exactly what he wanted, would he sit out here and smoke and stare at the stars and listen to Eddie talk every night? Was he allowed to have that?

“I wished for the person that makes me happy,” said Steve, not looking over at Eddie but feeling bolstered by weed and boldened by beer.

“It won’t come true now,” teased Eddie, his voice low.

“Even if I tell them?” asked Steve, turning to look at Eddie. He looked into Eddie’s eyes again and thought of all the things he wanted to say. He felt something shift between them when Eddie didn’t look away.

“I made a wish on my birthday too,” said Eddie. “That didn’t come true either,”

“What did you wish for?” asked Steve.

Eddie’s arm flopped between their chairs, his cigarette burning steadily between his fingers.

“To make someone happy,” he said.

“Like…” whispered Steve.

Steve slowly moved his hand so it brushed against Eddie’s, the backs of their fingers rubbing together. Steve hooked Eddie’s pinkie with his own. Eddie looked at their hands and smiled gently.

“Yeah,” said Eddie quietly.

Steve hummed.

“Guess I just needed to wish for it too,” said Steve.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #seth writes #steve harrington’s birthday

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jay-wasstuff · 10 months

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#happy birthday to my captain #steve rogers #4th of july #avengers #captain america #stay safe fr though!#updated because y'all were coming after my english like damn 😭

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ttpdjo · 10 days

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the boyfriend i can never have ♡

#i might have screencapped the whole interview and i might have been playing with all kinds of filters on them #i also might be obsessed with him but that's none of your business #i love him :(((#dreamboy #loml #joe keery #steve harrington #djo #gator tillman #joekeeryedit #steveharringtonedit #djoedit #happy early birthday light of my life #sigh

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livelovecaliforniadreams · 7 months

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stevesbipanic · 2 months

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For the lovely @withacapitalp happy birthday Liam hope you have the best day today!!!!

Steve had been pacing around the apartment all morning. Well, pacing wasn't really the right word, Eddie would describe it more like having the same zoomies their cat Toothpaste has at 3am.

You see today was–"It's Robin Day, Eds!" As his lovely boyfriend had practically screamed in his ear at 5am. "And it will still be Robin day when you return from your job at a normal waking hour, babe."

Eddie had hoped the jog would've gotten some of the energy out of Steve's system but he seemed more hyper on his return, at least he'd brought Eddie coffee.

"Love, Robin isn't even on the plane yet."

"I know, but it's today, Eds."

Steve looked so bright it made all of Eddie's sleepiness fade away. It had been hard, living away from Robin. They'd all shared an apartment when she went away for college but by the time she got a job in New York, Steve and Eddie were not only dating finally but settled into Chicago life.

They spoke every day of course, Robin and Steve never missed a nightly catch up of the day's events, Eddie didn't even know what they'd talk about once they were in the same state again. Eddie knew Robin would always be Steve's number one and he loved that about him.

There was one other thing about today though. "Sweetheart, you know it's not just Robin Day, right?"

Steve looked confused at his boyfriend, kind of like the way a puppy looks when you move his toy.

"What could be more important about today than that."

Eddie began humming a specific tune wrapping his arms around Steve's waist. "Oh, right, my birthday, 24 isn't exactly a big deal Eds," Steve said rolling his eyes.

Eddie laughed, "Your birthday is the reason Robin's coming, sunshine, plus after the number of times we've both almost died I think every birthday is a big deal."

Steve nodded his head and returned the embrace Eddie had been giving him, "True, you think you're gonna have a quarter life crisis in August, Mr 25?"

Eddie grinned, "Oh yeah, I think imma buy a guitar and start a band." Steve laughed, while Corroded Coffin never got famous they got relatively well known in the local scene, Tuesdays were now a regular gig at The Squire downtown.

"Four hours til she lands," Steve said kissing Eddie's cheek and running upstairs to make sure the guest room was ready for the tenth time. "Still not on the plane yet!" Eddie called up laughing.

Four and a half hours later their loving room was filled with laughter and joy once more. "And then the guy asked the flight attendant for another ginger ale and Steve this man was looking green and you know how I don't deal with sick people well I'm surprised I survived the flight at all," Robin rambled filling Steve in on her flight from hell.

"Honestly, you should just move back here, save yourself the flight," Steve joked. Robin glanced at Eddie, one little birthday surprise they hadn't told Steve yet.

"Actually, my contract is ending in two weeks, and um, they offered to extend it at...their Chicago office."

Steve was frozen, if Eddie didn't know better he'd think Vecna had returned from the dead to finish them off after all these years. Then the screaming started.

"YOU'RE MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"

"I'M MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"

Pretty soon everyday would be Robin Day and with his boy looking that happy Eddie wouldn't want it any other way.

#happy birthday liam!!!!#and hehe the brief return of toothpaste the cat #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stobin #with a capital p #ficlet

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imfinereallyy · 6 months

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Dinner Date

For STWG daily drabble and, more importantly, for Goldie @steventhusiast. Happy Birthday, you deserve the world. I know you’re asleep right now, but it’s technically still your bday here.

“Dingus, this is a really fancy restaurant.” Robin leans back in her chair, but her hand plays with the fork on her napkin.

Steve sips his wine; some of it tips over the edge onto the tablecloth. “What? Can’t a guy take his best friend out to a fancy dinner?” He tilts his head and takes in his best friend. What was once an awkward teen now had a beautiful, but still awkward, woman in her place.

“Steve, I love our friend dates, but usually they take place in a greasy diner or dollar pizza.” Robin picks the fork up and starts twirling it into her napkin. Steve watches her get mesmerized by the wrinkles that wrapped around the silverware, even though they both know the napkin should be in her lap by now.

Steve smiles softly, moves his napkin from his lap to the table, and begins to mimic Robin. “Okay, maybe I wanted it to be a special occasion.”

Robin giggles at Steve's poor fork-twirling form and leans over the table to fix it for him. “All occasions are special when we are together, so that doesn’t really mean much.” Robin’s nose scrunches in concentration as she gently guides Steve’s hand. She has done this plenty of times before, guiding Steve where he needed to be. Like taking him to the bookstore near her college so he wouldn’t have to go into sex with Eddie blind, or when she taught him how to whisk eggs properly. Both are equally important skills he now uses in his everyday life. “But you seemed nervous. You keep sipping your wine, and I know for a fact that you hate dry wine.”

Steve puts down the glass that was halfway to his mouth, “It’s not my fault Moscato tastes like candy!”

Robin snorts, “Seriously, Dingus. It’s just me. What’s up?”

Steve puts down the fork and his glass and looks Robin in the eye. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”

Steve expects a lot of reactions out of her: excitement, an eye roll, hell, even straight-up rejection. Maybe a little speech about how weddings for them aren’t even legal. Instead, a look of betrayal crosses her face. “You asked Eddie to marry you, and you didn’t even tell me you were proposing?”

Immediately, Steve clenches his stomach in outrageous laughter, nearly having to bend over the table. Steve tries to take Robin seriously; he really does. But she is supposed to be the smart one out of the two of them.

Rage takes over Robin completely as she reaches over the table to start slapping Steve’s arm. “Don’t laugh, you asshat! I am actually mad at you!”

“Ow—” Steve laughs. “Ow, Robin!” Another giggle escapes him as he gets her to sit back in her chair. “I’m laughing because, of course, I didn’t propose to Eddie without talking to you first.”

Robin settles a bit at this, “I’m confused.”

Steve reaches for her hand across the table; Robin doesn’t hesitate to wrap her fingers around his. “I’m asking you to be my Best Man first, doofus. Before I even pick out the damn ring. Which I definitely need you to steal one of Eddie’s rings for me so I can get the size; man watches those things like a hawk.”

Robin squeezes his hand, “Wait, why would you ask me that first? Isn’t that kind of backwards.”

“I do everything kind of backwards, babe. Kinda the Steve Harrington special.” Steve rubs a thumb against the back of soulmate's hand. “Of course, I ask you about being my best man first. There would be no wedding without you, so if you say no, there would be no proposing.”

Steve could see tears beginning to fill Robin’s eyes, “What are you saying?”

“Whoever gets stuck with me gets stuck with you. We’re a package deal, babe.”

Robin throws herself across the table, knocking the wine everywhere. Steve laughs and clenches her tightly. “Of course, I’ll be your best man! Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t hurt yourself going down the aisle.” She sobs.

Steve’s throat gets thick, “Pretty sure that’s the father's job, Robs. And you’d have to fight Jim for that role.”

“Fine.” Robin sniffs, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But I get stand by your side as you make a complete fool of yourself with your vows.”

“Deal.”

Robin leans forward, placing her forehead against Steve’s. “You and me against the world, babe.”

Steve hugs her tight, “You and me against the world.”

#stobin #steddie #steve and robin both call eachother babe #its canon #i dont make the rules #happy birthday gold!!!!#i asked them what they like in stranger things fic #and they said stobin with a side of steddie #so bet say less you got it hon #steven harrington #robin buckley #platonic soulmates stobin #my writing #platonic stobin

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punkbarnes2 · 10 months

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Happy Birthday Steeb ❤️💙🤍

(I just now realised that i put the signature of my other account)

Also, reminding you that my commissions are open, and you can support me on Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/derwassermann

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #stevebucky #stucky #steven grant rogers #marvel fanart #captain america #ipad8 #james barnes #july4th #fourth of july #steve's birthday #happy birthday Steve #coney island #brooklyn boys

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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months

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i'm onto you

It may be Halloween, but it's also...@simplebtromance's birthday!!! You've been here with me pretty much since the beginning, and you deserve so much more than this ficlet, but I hope you love this anyway! We've had many a discussion about queer Wayne, so this is just a little something for you to sip on as a birthday treat 💖

rated t | 1,605 words check ao3 for more tags

Wayne liked to think he couldn’t be rattled, not since Eddie “died” and showed up on his doorstep being held up by Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson looking like he hadn’t slept in a week and hadn’t showered for even longer.

But walking into his trailer to see Steve Harrington wrapped up in Eddie’s arms on his couch did startle him a bit.

It’s not like Steve was a stranger, not since he’d explained some of what happened to Eddie with certain looks that told him he wasn’t able to say more, please don’t ask, please accept what I’m telling you as the full truth and nothing but the truth. But he’d only been over when the kids were over, hanging back and watching them have fun with Eddie with a soft smile on his face.

Wayne noticed, he always noticed. But he didn’t really think much of it until now.

Steve was lying on top of Eddie, head on his chest and hand gripping his shirt like a lifeline. His face was relaxed, though, lips parted as he breathed shallowly. Eddie’s arms were wrapped around his back, hands not quite gripping, but clearly holding him tight.

It could be nothing.

It could just be that both of these boys had seen things that most wouldn’t understand and found solace in each other.

It could be that they didn’t mean to fall asleep like this.

It could be that they were exploring something together.

Wayne smiled to himself when Steve’s hand loosened, falling away from Eddie’s shirt. Eddie’s arms tightened briefly, his head turning so that his face buried more into Steve’s hair.

He walked towards his bedroom with the same fond smile on his face.

– – – – – –

It wasn’t the first time Wayne was woken up by the sound of loud music playing, but it was definitely the first time that it was the sound of Blondie blasting through the speakers of Eddie’s boombox.

His alarm clock said that it was almost ten in the morning, so he couldn’t be too mad. Six hours of sleep was more than he got for years, and from the sounds of it, Steve was still here and probably making them breakfast.

He’d done that a lot when Eddie was healing, unable to do much other than walk to the bathroom when he needed to and eat in his bed. Wayne was grateful for it, for Steve.

When he walked into the kitchen, he froze.

Eddie was sitting on the counter, Steve standing between his legs.

Kissing.

He considered turning around and pretending he hadn’t seen it, figured they’d both come to him when they were ready to acknowledge whatever they were.

But when he heard a quiet moan, he had to let them know he was there.

“Mornin’ boys.”

They jumped apart quickly, Steve turning towards the pan on the stove full of bacon with an obvious flush covering the back of his neck.

Eddie jumped off of the counter and tried to hide Steve’s discomfort.

“Hey. Sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you up,” Eddie started tugging on the ends of his hair, his nervous habit from childhood, even before his hair was this long.

“Music’s kinda loud. It’s okay though. Whatcha makin’?” He asked, pretending everything was normal, not pointing out that he’d just walked in on them making out in the kitchen.

“Bacon,” Steve’s shaking voice came from behind Eddie. “Fried eggs. Toast with peanut butter or jelly.”

“Sounds great,” Wayne said, walking to the coffee pot to grab a cup of coffee, smiling to himself when he realized that one of them had started a fresh pot not too long ago.

He snuck a glance at Steve, who looked like he was going to start crying any moment.

And that just didn’t sit right.

He didn’t want Steve to ever feel uncomfortable here, whether he was here as a friend to Eddie or more.

He set his mug back down without taking a sip and gently pushed Eddie aside to tug Steve into a hug.

Steve tensed in his arms for a moment, then relaxed, a shaky breath leaving him as Wayne rubbed his back.

“You’re allowed to be happy here, Steve. You don’t gotta tell me anything you don’t wanna, but you’re safe in this house. You and Ed both,” he said softly against the top of Steve’s head.

He was reminded of a similar discussion he’d had with Eddie when he was 14, when he’d been caught kissing an older boy when Wayne came home early from a shift at the plant. The boy ran, and Eddie had locked himself in his room for 15 minutes, furiously packing. When he opened the door to see Wayne leaning against the wall next to the door, unimpressed look on his face, he froze.

“Goin’ somewhere?” he’d asked him.

“You won’t want me to stay now, right?” Eddie had tried to sound confident, emotionless, but he was failing.

“Be a bit hypocritical of me to kick ya out for kissin’ a boy when I’ve got a boyfriend, wouldn’t it?”

Eddie unpacked, and they talked for a bit about Wayne’s boyfriend, Eddie being gay, and how he’d always be safe in Wayne’s house.

Steve had clearly never been given that kind of comfort, maybe hadn’t even had the chance to find that comfort in his own home. Wayne could give that to him.

“You don’t care that I’m, that we-” Steve started, almost immediately getting shushed by Wayne.

“Son, I’ve known Ed’s gay for years and if you think I wasn’t onto you the day you brought him to me half dead, I dunno what to tell ya.”

Eddie was standing to the side, watching quietly. Wayne didn’t need to see his face to know he was grateful.

“Sorry we kinda defiled the kitchen,” Steve finally said as he pulled away.

“Kissin’ ain’t defiling anything.”

Steve blushed again, wiped his eyes as he turned back to where the bacon was probably about to burn.

“No it’s not.”

Wayne paused as he thought about the phrasing of Steve’s response.

He looked over at Eddie, who was conveniently pouring his own cup of coffee. He didn’t even like coffee.

“My one and only rule is that you clean up after…whatever it is you’ve done to defile the shared space,” Wayne smirked. “I’d prefer it stays in the bedroom, though, kay?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve agreed, not making eye contact.

“Got it,” Eddie replied.

Any leftover awkwardness disappeared when Wayne tried to reach directly into the still sizzling pan to grab a piece of bacon, only to be swatted away by Steve.

“You’ll burn yourself!” Steve shook his head. “Now I see where Eddie gets it.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “I do not reach into still cooking pans! I wait until the food is on a plate before I burn myself!”

“My apologies. You’re just an idiot later,” Steve rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his tone gave away how much he cared about Eddie.

– – – – – –

Wayne started seeing Steve more often, usually wrapped in Eddie’s arms or holding his hand, or watching him play guitar.

He spent the night more often than not, and Wayne sometimes overheard his yelling when he had a nightmare.

Eddie explained to him that they’d gotten better, but he’d probably always have nights where the monsters made an appearance, and unfortunately, getting him out of the nightmare was pretty difficult.

If Wayne was awake already, he usually brought a cup of tea to Eddie’s room and gave them both a quick kiss on the head.

He also made them breakfast most mornings, liked cooking for them, experimenting with new recipes and finding interesting flavor combinations.

After a few months of this, Wayne suggested he look into culinary school.

“There’s a place in Indy, I know one of the chefs there. He’d probably be able to help ya get started,” Wayne said around a bite of his peach pancakes with vanilla syrup.

“I dunno if I can do much besides breakfast and desserts,” Steve shrugged, looking down at his plate. “Plus, Indy’s too far to be driving back and forth every day. I still have to work.”

“Not if you live there. And you could probably work at a restaurant in the evenings.”

Eddie watched them both, unreadable expression on his face.

“Maybe.”

“You know, there’s a few bars there that I could play at. A record shop that probably would hire me,” Eddie chipped in casually, taking a bite of his pancake.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. I mean, we’d need to find somewhere cheap, but we could swing it. I’ve got some money still from the government.”

“Yeah, but-”

Eddie’s fork clinked against his plate when he set it down.

“Stevie. Do you want to try?”

Wayne watched them watch each other, small smile forming as he started to understand their silent conversation.

“Only if it’s with you, baby,” Steve finally said.

“Then we’ll go this weekend to check it out.”

– – – – – – – –

Wayne got to watch them choose each other.

He watched them choose a life outside of Hawkins.

He watched them choose a future where they could have a happiness he could only dream of.

They came to visit often, and invited Wayne to their apartment almost as often.

They even brought him to one of their favorite bars, known for being a safe place for queer people, where he struck up a conversation with one of the bartenders, Larry.

And then he got to choose a life outside of Hawkins too.

One that led to more happiness than he could have pictured for himself.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #wayne munson #birthday fic #getting together

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