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thefreakandthehair · 4 months

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(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k

content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags

“My dad called.”

Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now?

It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son.

Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust.

Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong.

“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself.

“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.”

Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight.

“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging.

“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!”

His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.

“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off.

He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can.

But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.

“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”

Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.”

“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks.

“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?”

Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace.

It’s only then that Steve speaks.

“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”

Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them.

“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree.

“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge.

Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen.

“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”

“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”

Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain.

“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow.

“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”

Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him.

“Definitely.”

The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.

There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #(whispers): yeah so my mom fell off the wagon after 18 years at her fucking work party and this is basically just what my day was #our relationship has always been strained but since she got sober there was at least some contact?#anyways #replace wayne with my grandparents and this is just all projection baybee 😙✌️#super not cool with it BUT that's why there are some content warnings here you don't see from me very often 💕

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magbeth · 1 year

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pov: you're princess rosamund du prix

#neverafter #rosamund du prix #prince gerard of greenleigh #dimension 20 #this had to be intentional wagon description was too reminiscent #rosamund experiences the true horror: skyrim #anyways if this happened to me id throw myself out of the wagon

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cupophrogs · 2 months

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1. Dog day…why did you say when you saw your husbands picture “ he’s alive????” Did you think he was dead.

"The passage of time is worthless when you there's nothing you can count on, except pain. So I always assumed my past life, and everything in it, was already gone. Hope is a very fickle thing, down here."

(Based on this song)

youtube

#my neck hurts #I was originally going to turn this into a full animation - buut halfway through I'm like “fuck that actually”#relining the double frames was time consuming enough LMAO #I'm still pretty happy with how it turned out though!#Also if you're not really a fan of choral music I BEG of you to chekc out these composers:#Daniel Elder #Jake Runestad #randal stroope #and Moses Hogan #Some of my favorite composers of all fucking time #like holy shit #im such a choral nerd lmao #ask the three d's #the three d's #dogday #dogday poppy playtime #featured: kissy missy #featured: poppy #Charles poppy playtime #Drew drives a station wagon #he got his friend to paint little designs on it #phrart #art #also yes that IS a Rich puppet in Charles' lap #bro misses his hubby okay he needs to cope somehow #he's not delusional tho dw #it's just his way of keeping the memory alive since his memory is ass (me too Charles me too)

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ride-a-dromedary · 5 months

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Halsin and Wyll deserve their babies ever after ending.

#BG3 Musing #Halsin #Wyll Ravengard #wyllsin #(i'm sorry for clogging the tag forgive me)#someday i'll figure out a different tag #listen i promise i'll stop eventually i'm just really hung up on the moon rn #wyll: i've always thought about having a child of my own #halsin: *nine wagonfuls of orphans in tow* alright bet #(laezel does too thank you secret epilogue ilu)#what if they had a little half elf they adopted together and think about #how she would light up and reach for wyll every time he came home #how halsin would lean against the door frame and watch them together and just be...so so full of love he doesn't know what to do #how he still thinks time to time that wyll will regret coming with him and tossing aside his options when he's still so young #but then he sees the two of them and hopes in his heart of hearts that he genuinely wants to be there #and will stay for at least a little while longer #though he'd never ask him to - never expect him to

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goatpaste · 2 years

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“making character i like trans/gay/ect” is great, but get ready for

#goat chatter #for anyone returning to the crime scene of this post #this was 100% me talking about jojos #and how i had somehow been assuming erina pendleton was from a poor family lol #but she is to me #her and peed wagon growing up without money solidarity

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sincerelywhistler · 2 months

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New month, new continuation

✨PART 4✨ of things my husband does that are so violently Asher Coded, I had to compile a written list and turn them into headcanons:

part 1 • part 2 • part 3

• his phone consistently below 20%. Babe has to plug it in every night cause he sure ain’t gonna

• saw the meme image thing on how to break your thumb ligament by flicking your wrist. Sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes, visibly weighing the pros and cons of conducting this experiment. Moved on with his day without a word (the smart choice)

• “oh, you know you love meeeeeee” when he senses that he’s getting on my nerves, which is all the time /j of course.. mostly

• yoinks our nintendo switch to romance Sebastian in Stardew Valley every single play-through because it’s against his moral code to leave Tsundere characters un-kissed (what does this say about me)

• sends posts of two animals interacting, no matter what they’re doing, and captions it “this is literally us”

• also sends posts of the most scrungliest and disheveled creatures, captioning it “this is you”

• alternating turns of getting one another ‘just because’ flowers. I originally initiated it, so if Babe did the same, Asher would die I think

• does have a thorough skin/hair/hygiene routine, but will wash his face with Dawn dish soap if he’s tired and it’s more convenient

• conks out the second his head hits the pillow like HOW?? Babe lays there awake, wondering what sorts of dark magic he’s really capable of

• makes a questionable decision, and when anyone begins to address it 0.5 seconds after it happens, he’ll jokingly say “it’s in the past now, that was the old me”

• uses the 😳 emoji in the most confusing and unfitting places, so much so it really makes you rethink the original meaning of his texts?? “Can I take your car today? 😳” “Work let us have some of the leftover chicken for dinner😳”

• can and will turn goof mode off at the drop of a hat when needed. It’s actually kinda scary if you get the chance to experience it bc the whole atmosphere of the room changes

• received a uh *noise complaint* and proceeded to bake AND decorate a whole cake to “celebrate the achievement” (photographic evidence exists)

• but that’s not before fully removing the still beeping smoke detector from the ceiling and handing it to me in a panic, asking me to turn it off because he didn’t know how to (photographic evidence also exists)

• can’t cuddle like a normal person, he has to either suffocate you with the weight of his body or you gotta coddle him like he is oh so fragile and the most delicate of waifs— no in between. Great Dane who thinks he’s a lap dog vibes

• gives the BEST advice and pep talks to people. He‘s studying forensic psychology to be a counselor and I think Ash would make a great counselor or advisor of sorts, just in a more lighthearted environment

• knows he has the pretty privilege card, but only uses it for the most unnecessary reasons? Like of course you can have a some of my pasta you freak I literally made you your own bowl, why are you batting your eyelashes and trying to persuade me via brainwave manipulation

#Monthly installments of the shit I put up with for your entertainment #Are these getting annoying yet #People have been tagging me in their own posts assigning their SOs as redacted characters #Please don’t stop bc it brings me joy #What the hell did we hitch our wagons to #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted fandom #redacted asher #redacted headcanons #asher talbot

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joenhead · 1 month

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hi its me, the guy experiencing once upon a witchlight for the first time

so. um. im through most of episode nine and there is nothing in the world that could have ever properly warned me for the whirlwind of sexual innuendoes and gay. its not even subtext its just text. i. you know i thought i was gnna have to make it up like i usually do but no they all just presented me with. homoeroticism with no qualms.

i also did want to note, frost making a cupcake sandwich is how *i* eat my cupcakes and i felt very seen in that moment because it IS a VERY efficient and enjoyable way to eat a cupcake. also twinkerbell is a fantastic drag name.

#oh the episodes called when the wagons a rockin i just got that #im aroace yall its not that i cant handle homoeroticism #its just that the pace at which it all happened was a lot more than i ever expected from this series #anyways morning frost is back who cheered (me) (its me) (i cheered)#ouaw #once upon a witchlight #legends of avantris #morning frost

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onestopfanficshop · 8 months

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if we’re taking about the cod boys being dads…can i just slip in how price would be the type of dad that would eat his daughter’s girl scouts cookies when he’s really supposed to be helping her sell them???

🧔🏻‍♂️: (on his second box of thin mints)

👧🏽: daddy, you’re not supposed to be eating them! we have to sell these!

he eventually writes a check out covering the cost of the ones he ate.

no because anon you're so unbelievably correct. the worst part is he thinks he's being so slick about it and that he can can control himself when in reality he can't! he opens yet another box of adventurefuls after he just polished off some thin mints, swears he's "only having a couple", and then boom they're all gone within the span of half an hour. your daughter is looking at you helplessly like "mum what on earth why did you marry this man" and all you can do is shake your head in disbelief and disappointment 💀. but he is very dedicated to helping her sell all her boxes (when he's not scarfing them down of course). he went out and bought a whole pop-up canopy for her to set up under and he's standing out there with his classic dad aviators (you know the ones), arms crossed in a black fitted tee as he handles all the digital payments, grumbling under his breath about how no one carries cash anymore. he's lost count of the amount of business cards he's handed out; the grocery store cashier, the mailman, his barber, all of his neighbors, and of course, the 141 boys. yes, even mr. simon "i don't eat sweets" riley, whom your daughter thinks is hilarious to refer to as the "uncle with the casper mask". simon, however, does not find this amusing. needless to say, she passes her sales goal with ease. obviously, because prices never lose!

#like just imagine this man in his bucket hat with his sunglasses lugging along a red wagon filled the brim with boxes of cookies #and don't even get me started on the amount of girl scout moms that would be drooling over this man #captain john price #john price x reader #john price headcanons #captain john price headcanons #onestopfanficshop asks

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