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#rock star au??
flintt · 3 months
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hey guys corey cott and tommy bracco are going on broadway in the musical Heart of Rock and Roll, can someone show me some art of jack kelly and spot conlon as rockstars now or what
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stevieschrodinger · 7 months
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Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU
Link to Part Two
Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.
So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.
Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"
Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.
To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.
"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."
Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.
"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."
"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"
And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"
It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"
"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"
"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."
"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."
"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"
Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.
It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"
"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."
But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.
There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"
"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"
And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.
"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.
Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"
Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"
Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.
And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.
Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"
"Shhhhhhhh!"
Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-
"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"
Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.
The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."
"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."
"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"
Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."
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kitchen-spoon · 4 months
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Steve who finishes hair school in Indianapolis then moves to LA because he wants to do hair for movies.
He can’t find a job on a film set right away so in an attempt to get closer to the industry he starts booking at home hair drying & styling through an app.
When he starts its mostly older rich ladies who book him before dinners with their husbands business partners or soirées with their girlfriends. It reminds him a bit too much of his own mother but he pushes that aside in hopes that one day he gives the right rich lady an at home blow out.
That day comes but it isn’t a rich lady. Instead cut to Chrissy manager of newly famous up and coming band corroded coffin, desperate and scrambling. It was the day the band was meant to be shooting their music video for their latest single but the hair stylist they booked called in sick that morning. Out of desperation Chrissy gets on the app and hires Steve. He has 4 stars and over 20 positive reviews and she is running out of options.
Steve sees the name chrissy and sees its for a music video and assumes he is going to be doing some fun bouncy youthful hair for an up and coming pop star. Imagine his shock when heavily pierced and tattooed lead singer of corroded coffin Eddie Munson sits down in his chair with his curly birds nest of hair. Steve does his job though, detangling and defining Eddie’s curls. Steve is even more shocked though, when it turns out Eddie is actually super sweet and…kind of charming? He might even be flirting?
Steve is unsure through the whole day and all of the touch ups he does. There is plausible deniability to all the light touches and brushing against one another that happens. Until the end of the day when Eddie comes to him looking frustrated. Instantly Steve’s stomach drops, he seemed happy with the style all day! If he didn’t like it why film a whole music video with it?
“Steve.” Eddie stops in front of him. “Look, I’m just gonna be blunt.”
Steve’s eyes go wide and he clears his throat, “uh, yeah sure go for it.”
“Am I an idiot who has been flirting with a straight guy all day?” Eddie asked.
All the air left Steve’s lungs, he couldn’t help the small wheeze that escaped him. “No you haven’t I- god Eddie.” Steve started giggling with relief, he even felt a little dizzy with it. “I’ve been trying to keep it together all day, thinking I was delusional and you were just really nice.”
“Oh,” it was Eddie’s turn to widen his eyes. Then a huge smile broke out in his face. “No delusions there, I was definitely flirting with you all day.” He paused taking one of his curls between his hands and separating it causing it to frizz. “And uh, would love to keep flirting with you over dinner tonight…if you’re interested?”
Steve smiled reaching forward taking the curl from Eddie. He began smoothing it back together and smiled warmly. “I’d love to.”
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isjasz · 5 days
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// In stars and time spoilers (of the game mechanic that is in the trailer and in the game description LOL)
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[Day 288]
More isat au but guess what quote i can use >:33333333333 LETSGOOOOOOOOOOO (Also yeah introducing what the game is about for those who dont know HEHEHHEHEHEHE)
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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it's not ever what it looks like
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'
rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.
Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.
But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.
Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.
But not daily for over a week.
He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.
And now this article.
There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.
The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?
Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.
Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.
It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.
Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.
He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.
All of them had said mostly the same things:
I can't get ahold of Eddie.
He wouldn't do this.
Something else is going on.
Call me when you can.
The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.
He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.
Steve called Gareth.
"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."
"What's going on?"
Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"
"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."
"Steve-"
"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"
"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"
"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."
Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.
He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.
Until now.
It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.
No time to wallow.
He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.
"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."
"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.
She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"
"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.
"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."
"Nothing happened!"
"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"
Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.
Steve nodded once.
Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."
"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.
She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.
His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.
Eddie walked through his door.
He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.
"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.
"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."
The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.
He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.
The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.
He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.
He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.
"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.
"I needed to explain-"
"Right."
"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."
Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.
"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."
Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.
He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.
"No, Steve, you don't understand."
"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."
Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.
Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.
Many of them from Eddie himself.
"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.
So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.
But then he started playing the voicemails.
"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."
"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."
"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."
"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."
Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.
"Well?" He asked, broken.
"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.
"Great for him."
"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."
At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.
But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.
"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.
"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."
Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.
But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.
Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.
Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.
He just needed to feel him.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”
“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”
Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.
“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”
“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”
“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”
“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”
“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”
Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”
“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”
“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.
Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”
“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.
That bastard.
“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”
“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.
“What?”
“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”
“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.
“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”
Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”
“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."
Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."
"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"
"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."
"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."
"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."
"So you're not saying no?"
"Why would I say no?"
"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."
"You're ridiculous."
"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.
"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.
"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."
"I'm not doing that."
"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."
"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."
"The sooner the better, sweetheart."
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daily-odile · 3 months
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everything is the same except Odile is the one looping
oh. heheheheh. muahahahaha. hold on *digs through my pile of disorganized sketches*
Odile loops au; a sketch compilation!!
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Some old fic drabbles + associated sketches under cut (a6 secret spoilers):
hc: Since equipment carries over, as long as Odile uses her book in a fight, she can write down notes and have it carry over loops
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toxic doomed yuri (for a more fleshed out fic I highly recommend The Sweetest Thing by soreimoon, it's amazing)
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.
Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.
The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.
As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.
Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.
Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.
Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.
After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.
Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.
"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.
They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.
She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."
"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."
"He's changed."
"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.
"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."
They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.
"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.
They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.
"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."
Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."
Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.
Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.
Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.
"Good?" Steve asks.
Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."
He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.
"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."
🎬🎸🎬🎸
Fifteen Months Later
"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"
Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.
There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.
"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.
The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.
"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.
"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.
"Liar," Steve answers.
Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."
"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.
Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."
Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.
Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.
His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.
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galactic-rhea · 2 months
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Can you imagine the sheer amount of horror and panic for the rebels if Padmé decided to be evil and "yeah, okay, you know what, let's cut Palpatine's head and let me see what I can do to fix this galaxy my way"?
No no like they're like "The Chancellor tricked us, almost all the jedi are dead, there's no republic anymore, but there's still hope! There's still a fight in us, there's still---!" and they see Padmé, with Anakin/Vader following her close with raging, horrible, yellow eyes, but what's more scary is that Padmé is just smilling? With a sith so close to her? Padmé, he's- he's a murderer, Padmé? Why are you giving him pats- Oh damn, he's the father, oh damn-.
"We're doomed" the rebels mutter when they realize Senator Amidala- wait, what? Is Empress Amidala now? Okay-.
Yeah, okay, theorically she would be a better choice than the bastard of Palpatine. But at the same time she's so loved, so clever as a politician and Anakin is so devoted to her that forming a rebellion against her would be twice as hard. Even more when she actually originally was one of the founders of that very same rebellion? And General Skywalker is insane now, and he's very insane about her too, and he's very murderous and did I say insane? and...
What, all the highly trained look-alikes handmaidens are now secret service? Well that's...complicated, but...What, Naboo supports her? The whole planet? That's not so much of a shock, but...Bail, wait, listen to yourself, Bail what are you saying, she's evil now, stay with us, Bail. Okay, well, you might have a point-
"We're doomed." The rebels mutter again as they facepalm at the most cheesy and dumb royal wedding between the worst power couple in existence and the Organas are guests of honor and the groomsmen/honor guard are a chained General Kenobi, an astromech and a protocol droid.
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xoxoladyaz · 11 months
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It Hits Different This Time
Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five
“Steve.” 
He hears Robin knocking on the door, her knuckles tapping firmly against the wood.
“STEVE.”
He’s lying on the bed in Robin’s guest bedroom, limbs starfished across the plush gray comforter, staring at the ceiling fan. Taylor Swift is singing to him, blasting from the Alexa speaker next to him.
Oh my, love is a lie, shit my friends say to get me by 
“Alexa, volume up.”
“Steve – STEVE!”
It hits different, it hits different this time
“Alexa, off,” Robin says as she marches into the room. Taylor’s voice cuts off almost immediately and Steve huffs, frustrated.
“Steve, as much as I love listening to your ‘Sad Taylor Swift’ playlist, you need to eat something. Go for a walk. Take a shower.”
“I’d rather not.”
Sighing, Robin kicks his left leg until he’s made enough room for her to collapse down beside him and gaze up at the spinning fan. 
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
They lay in silence.
“It’s just – our three-year anniversary, Robin.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t even text me.”
“I know.”
“And the supermodels at the club! And the tweets!”
“I know, Steve.”
There’s moisture pricking at the inside of his eyes now. “I just – it’s dumb, okay? I thought we could make this work. But I guess I’m not as important to him as he is to me.”
“Dingus,” Robin chides, and he turns his face away so she can’t see that he’s actually crying now. (She still probably knows that he is; Robin always knows. He just doesn’t want anyone to see.) “Okay, is Eddie Munson a huge idiot? Yes, and he has been for as long as we’ve known him. Is he kind of an asshole now that he’s famous? Yes. Do I think this is the end? Not necessarily.”
Steve snorts. “It’s been four days, Robin. Nothing for four days. I think it’s already ended.”
Robin cuddles up to his side so now they’re legitimately snuggling together. “Look, all I’m saying is he’s going to be back in the state in a few days and I think you owe it yourself to at least have a conversation with him. Either you two decide to work things out and start communicating better or you decide that he’s not pulling his weight to make his relationship work and you get closure. Either way, I think you need to talk to him.”
“Yeah,” Steve sniffles. “You’re probably right.”
“Steven, I’m always right.”
“I’m sorry, do you want to talk about the Pixar question you fumbled on trivia night?”
“Dingus, I swear to god if you don’t let it go - ”
/////
Eddie’s groggy and nauseous and fuck the sun is too bright. He pulls at the window-shades as he stumbles into their kitchen, dropping his Louis Vuitton bag on the floor. The fact that he’s managing to walk while coming down from a five day bender that he barely fucking remembers is kind of a miracle. 
“Steve! Stevie, baby, I’m home!”
Silence.
What day is it today, Saturday? He’s probably at the farmer’s market with Robin. Eddie’s a few days early anyways, wanted it to be a surprise. And honestly, it’s probably a good thing Steve’s not home, Eddie needs to keep sobering up.
He pulls a fresh bottle of water out of the fridge and collapses onto the restored dining-room chairs they bought a few months ago. He tips it back and drinks it down greedily, swallowing the cool water down his aching throat. “Oh, that’s good,” he moans to himself, dropping the now empty bottle onto the dining room table.
The empty bottle that clangs against something. Squinting, Eddie opens his eyes and looks down.
There’s a small box sitting at his spot, a card laying haphazardly onto the side. It looks like someone opened it and scribbled all over what they originally wrote.
Eddie frowns and grabs for the card. It’s Steve’s writing. Whatever he’s crossed out is unreadable. Instead, all there is is the following:
I would say Happy Anniversary, but judging by the fact that (1) you didn’t return my call or even text me back and (2) the paps caught you at the club with the guys and a bunch of supermodels instead, I’m going to assume that you’re not interested in celebrating it anymore.
Eddie feels his stomach sink so fast that he’s going to lose all the water he just drank. 
Look, Eds, I am so proud of you for making your dream come true. I would never ask you to give that up or sacrifice your music for me. But I’m tired of feeling alone in this relationship. Of feeling like you don’t love me as much as I love you. Because I would do anything for you, but I think this all proves that you wouldn’t do the same for me.
Anyways, I still want you to have your gift. It wouldn’t make sense to give it to anyone else. 
Your biggest fan, Steve
He can’t see straight and it’s not because of the drugs. He can’t breathe and it’s not because of his asthma or his wicked smoking habit. 
He grabs the small box, flips it open, and chokes back a sob.
It’s a perfect replica of Aragorn’s ring, the ring he’s given that proves he is Isilduir’s heir. He’s wanted it foryears, but it was never something that he thought he could buy for himself. Sure, he could buy whatever random luxury shit without a sweat, but something so meaningful to him? Because reading The Lord of the Rings saved his fucking life in high school? His brain couldn’t deal with him buying it for himself. His therapist says it’s one of his many hang-ups regarding money and fame and his self-esteem issues, but that’s not what matters right now.
What matters is that Steve gave this to him, loved him enough to have it made for him.
And now Steve is gone.
Eddie grabs for his phone with shaking hands and checks the date.
“Fuck.”
Five days. 
He’s five days too fucking late.
He’s dialing Jeff before he can even realize he’s doing it.
“Dude, I really don’t want to be talking to you right now.”
“Jeff,” Eddie barely gets out, his voice choking on a sob. “Steve is gone.”
Jeff’s silent for a moment. 
“I’m on my way.”
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sparkle-fiend · 1 year
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Long distance relationships are hard (especially on Eddie’s band mates).
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clar-a-m · 6 months
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My piece for this year's @bumblebybigbang !!
My partner was @itsraith who wrote the super fun Hot for Teacher fic!!!
It was a delight to be part of such an amazing event, please go check out all the other art pieces and fics as well!
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stevieschrodinger · 7 months
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Part Four - Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU - Final chapter/complete
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
The kids are quiet in the back.
There ended up being ten of them. Once Steve realized that eight people would not fit in his car, he talked to Nancy. Nancy sighed out of her nose the way she does, but Steve already knew she was going to say yes, especially with Mike ready to literally throw himself at her feet to beg.
And then obviously Jonathan had to come along. Turns out he actually, really, genuinely likes Corroded Coffin and was as excited as the kids to learn Steve had tickets. Well, excited in that understated, no energy for anything ever way that Jonathan has about him.
So yeah, Mike went with Nancy and Jonathan, which meant Dustin and Will got pushed in that direction. Steve could breathe a sigh of relief; that left him with Max, El, and Lucas. The sensible ones. The nice ones.
If you ignore how scathing Max could be. So the girls have an earbud each from Max’s phone and Lucas seems to be content to stare out of the window while Max stoically pretends they aren’t holding hands.
It’s cute.
Robins’ looking at the side of his face, Steve can feel it. He raises an eyebrow, ‘what?’
Robin raises both her eyebrows tips her whole head in question, ‘how you feeling?’
Steve shrugs, tilts his head dismissively. The he rethinks his answer for a more honest one, lifting one hand off the wheel to, out of sight of the kids, make a rocking gesture, ‘so-so.’
Robin nods sympathetically, seeming content with his answer, ‘that’s fair.’
He’d told Robin, obviously, that he’d hit it off with a customer and developed a monster crush and hopefully fingers and toes crossed that customer liked him back. He had not told her who Eddie actually is though, because even though it’s Robin and Steve did once get her to look at his dick because he thought something looked weird, (“It looks weird Steve, it’s a dick.” “Yeah, but weird like, see a doctor weird?”) and they have literally no secrets between them...this isn’t his secret.
Until tonight.
And Steve had to tell her just because tonight he might...actually get to meet Eddie. For real.
Once she’d finished squealing and beating him with a pillow, she’d understood.
So.
Steve’s kind of got a hurricane worth of butterflies in him.
Steve has detailed instructions and a QR code in the form of the email he printed from Eddie. All the kids laughed at him because ‘no one prints tickets any more, Steve’ but he was nervous, okay? And phone batteries can die or the internet could not work or. Yeah. He wanted a sure thing.
So they all go to the gate that the email says, and when the QR code gets scanned the woman with the scanner points off to the side, “can you wait there please,” and then pulls out a walkie talkie and speaks into it, “Steve Harrington has arrived.”
There’s a blast of static which, presumably, she understands, and then she goes back to doing her job. Less than five minutes later, five minutes filled with everyone but Robin demanding, “what the actual fuck, Steven,” someone else arrives. A guy with a tablet, a headset, and a very, very 100% done look on his face shows up. He’s wearing Corroded Coffin merch and asks the group to follow along. Which they do.
They’re led along white washed corridors, clearly under the stadium, and get dropped off in a room. A room with a TV on, and snacks and drinks, “this is all for you, go for it, I’ll be back before the support goes on.” And the dude leaves.
The girls, priorities sorted, lay into the snacks. Dustin and Mike are insisting again, “what the fuck is going on?” and getting ever more obnoxious about it.
Steve, very smugly, informs them that he, “knows a guy,” and settles down with the girls and a bag of Cheetos. He’s going to enjoy this while it lasts, watching Dustin splutter over it is very satisfying.
Steve wasn’t expecting any of this. He’s playing it as cool as he can, but he was expecting to get tickets, see the show, call Eddie after and maybe get to see him. He wasn’t expecting to be perched in seats the have been put at the side of the stage, just for them. Someone keeps checking on them, to bring them drinks and snacks.
He’s probably, right now, less than fifty feet from Eddie Munson. Eddie, who's wearing torn up skin tight jeans, shit kicker boots and nothing else. Eddie, who has his guitar slung at his back as he roars into the microphone.
The crowd are going batshit.
Steve’s slowly going insane. When the stage lights finally, finally go down, Steve thinks, this is it. He’s going to meet Eddie. Now is his moment.
The lights come back up, they play an encore. It’s four fucking songs long. Steve’s pulling his hair out as is genuinely concerned he might be sick.
The kids don’t notice; they’ve all just been given gift bags brimming with merch.
The band come over, once they’re finally done. They’re red faced and sweaty and the kids are all vibrating with excitement but Steve doesn’t care, he just doesn’t, because he can very clearly see Eddie leaving the other way. Disappearing off the other side of the stage. Away from Steve.
Well, fuck that.
Gareth is standing practically right next to Steve, signing the kids merch and talking to them, “where is Eddie?”
All the other members of the band look at Steve, and all of them look sheepish as fuck. “He’s, uhm, you know, busy.”
“Busy,” Steve replies, deadpan. And then it occurs to him. Eddie doesn’t know, so they don’t know. They think they’re keeping Eddie’s secret. “I know. I know it’s him. I want to see him.”
Every member of the band visibly relaxes, “see, I fucking told you he’s worked it out-” Jeff starts.
“Eddie is such a shitty liar,” Gareth agrees.
“Yes, he is. And I know it’s him, and I’ve known for ages, and now he’s…” Steve gestures weakly in the direction Eddie disappeared in.
“Having a meltdown in a greenroom because he thinks you’re going to hate him when you realize he’s been lying to you,” Jeff supplies helpfully.
“What the fuck is happening??” Dustin screeches. Steve pushes him away with a hand on the forehead.
Gareth laughs, “come on man. One way to settle this and honestly, I am so ready for it. I am done with his pining.”
Steve perks up immediately, jogging along after, “he’s been pining?”
Steve is left with a thumbs up, standing in an empty hallway, looking at a very, very unassuming door. He lifts his hand to knock but...can’t.
It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like...like them. So after a few moments of indecision, Steve jogs a little way along the hall and then pulls out his phone, calling Eddie.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Eds.”
“You enjoy the show?”
“I did, yeah, thank you, so so much. The kids loved it too. And all the, you know, extra stuff, it was all amazing...but I had, kind of hoped I’d get to see you tonight?”
“Yeah,” Eddie starts slowly. Painfully slowly, “about, about that-”
“Look,” Steve sighs, now genuinely terrified that this is it, and it comes out a little sharper than he means it too but, he's...kind of scared that this thing is going to die before it even starts, “if you don’t want to meet up, I get it.”
“No. No Steve, it isn’t that. It really, really isn’t, it’s just...I might have, withheld something from you. Slightly.”
“Is it that, you're Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin’s front man?”
“You see, the thing is, I’m actually, Eddie, like the lead singer guy of-wait. Wait. Hold up. You- Steve. Stevie. Honey. What?”
“I know who you are Eddie. I’ve known for a while. I’m outside. The room. Like, I'm standing outside the door.”
“Oh,” Eddie breathes. And then...nothing.
“Eds?” Steve asks, tentatively.
“I was just...you don’t know what it’s like Steve. To be this famous. No one just...treats me like a normal guy. Not ever. Everyone wants something from me, you know? Everyone just thinks I’m rich and famous and I can do things for them. They only ever want to talk about the music and the shows and the fame and...I just...I’m...someone to fuck for bragging rights, not because anyone actually cares...no one. No one ever treats me, like, well, like a person. And you have, Stevie, this whole time you’ve just...been normal. I want someone who likes me for me... And I missed normal so much, and I thought, I was scared that once you found out I’d loose that but...you’ve known this whole time?”
Steve’s heart is kind of breaking for Eddie, and he wants to comfort him, show him nothing’s changing, but he isn’t going to force anything on him, this is Eddie’s choice, “yeah. I’ve known...pretty much the whole time yeah. You’re a...well, absolutely atrocious liar, Eddie Munson.”
“Yeah?” and Jesus he sounds like he’s laughing and crying a little, “are you, did you say you were outside? Are you still-”
“I’m here, right outside the door.”
“I. I, okay. Yeah. Yeah.” And then Eddie hands up.
And for a really long, really long minute, Steve worries that’s it. Eddie’s not going to open the door and-
The door opens slowly, Eddie peeking out at Steve. Steve can’t help laughing. And then Eddie laughs, coming the rest of the way out, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. His eyes are red rimmed, like he’s been crying, and Steve’s desperately trying to blink back the tears himself, “can I hug you?”
“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice is rough from the gig, much more noticeable now in person, “yeah, I’d like that.”
Steve doesn’t hesitate, throwing his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him tight close. Eddie’s more tentative, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and then...nuzzling into the side of Steve’s neck. Eddie takes a deep breath and...relaxes against Steve.
They stand there, hugging, Steve’s face buried in Eddie’s sweaty curls, swaying gently together in the quiet hallway.
@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao
@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch
@bestwifehaver @estrellami-1 @vampireinthesun @clumsiluni @swimmingbirdrunningrock @uwujinniee @heartdinosblog @overhillunderhill @noodle-shenaniganery @carlprocastinator1000 @danni-phant0m @wxrmland @steddie-as-they-go @i-have-three-feelings @space-invading-pigeon @antonymeanonyme @steddiedreamer @dragonmama76 @honorarybrit81 @punctualhowell @mojowitchcraft
@melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @co5m0 @tinyplanet95
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magicantare · 4 months
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happy leap yeap here’s a bunch of wily’s guys and lights kids that aren’t named proto man
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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months
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Steve Harrington having a stutter? maybe Eddie and Steve are in an interview after revealing their relationship to the public (kinda ties with ur rockstar eddie drabbles?) and people make fun of his stutter. Hes always had it, he just doesn't talk in public so its a surprise to everyone that he has a stutter and that they actually get to hear his voice
So I know the request said he always had the stutter, but I wanted to do something head trauma related for this because Eddie is gonna get a little overprotective and says some stuff about his very amazing husband to be. I've never written a character having a stutter before, so I hopefully made it realistic. In my head, he struggled with some hard consonants and 'th', 'ch', and 'sh' sounds. - Mickala ❤️
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“Everyone please give your warmest welcome to Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington!”
They walked onto the stage with smiles and waves, hands clasped between them as they walked to the couch they’d be sitting on for their interview.
They chose this talk show host, Hannah, because she wasn’t pushy, asked heartfelt questions, and wanted to get the genuine stories out there.
Steve had been nervous to be on any talk show, so he was the one who made the decision to be on this one and Eddie was happy to oblige.
Her viewers may not have been his usual crowd, but if it made Steve more comfortable, he didn’t really care.
“Wow, that was a warm welcome!” Eddie exclaimed.
He wanted to keep it light; Steve’s hand in his was sweaty and shaking, and he knew Hannah could see his nerves.
“I think everyone is just so excited to have you here! You’re not our usual guest, I’ll be honest, so you’re shaking things up for all of us.” She smiled before looking at Steve. “Now, let’s get the elephant in the room out of the way first. Steve, that ring on your finger sure is a beauty!”
He glanced down at it for a moment, smiling to himself.
Eddie proposed a month ago, on their week-long getaway to Greece, and as much as they tried to hide it, it was on the cover of every tabloid and online news article within 24 hours.
They hadn’t even come out officially yet.
It caused Steve to panic, and then Eddie panicked, and then they both decided to take control of their own narrative and do this interview.
“Th-thank you,” Steve replied. “Eddie did g-good, didn’t he?”
Steve’s stutter was barely noticeable when they were in a comfortable environment, especially since they’d been together for so long. But when they were in a stressful situation, or around new people, or both, it became more obvious.
Steve had already spoken to Hannah about it beforehand, said he wouldn’t mind talking about it as long as it wasn’t the focus of the interview. She agreed and said that she would follow his lead on everything, and Eddie warned her he wouldn’t hesitate to walk them both off the stage if Steve got uncomfortable.
“He did great! Honestly, I’ll have to get you to show my husband how to pick an engagement ring. Bless his heart, he tried. Luckily, we married for love and not his ability to know what I want in a ring.”
The audience laughed, and Steve couldn’t help letting out a small giggle.
“Soooo…tell us how he did it!” Hannah continued, eyes glimmering under the stage lights.
“Um.” Steve took in a shaky breath. “We were at a p-priv-vate d-dinner on the beach-ch.” Eddie squeezed his hand once, smiling over at him as he let him lead. “He s-sang me a s-song and th-then proposed.”
“How romantic,” Hannah rested her head in her hands and sighed. “Everyone in the audience is going to show this to their significant others for them to take notes, I’m sure.”
“He left out the part where I also bought him the fancy wine he wanted only for it to be the worst thing we’ve ever tasted and we ended up giving it to a couple further down the beach,” Eddie added, playfully nudging Steve’s shoulder.
“Yeah, w-well,” Steve shrugged, blushing profusely.
“What a letdown! Hopefully the other couple liked it,” Hannah laughed.
“They didn’t complain, but honestly we didn’t stick around for too long. We were freshly engaged and had much better things to be doing,” Eddie winked at the audience.
“Oh, I bet you did!” Hannah smiled before getting more serious. “So you’ve been together for a while?”
“We were friends when we were really young, and it grew into more when Steve was supporting me and my band in the local bar scene. We’ve dated for almost four years now.”
“Awww. And you’ll be getting married pretty soon, right?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, we d-decided on next March-ch,” Steve added. “Spring is when w-we met-t.”
“Lovely! I’m sure the wedding will be quite the party.”
“We’re keeping it pretty small, just family and our circle of friends. My bandmates will be there. Just us back at home with the people who love us,” Eddie smiled.
“I think that sounds wonderful.” Hannah clapped her hands. “So, Eddie, with all this excitement in your personal life, what’s it look like for the band?”
“I’ll be on tour with them for August and September, and then we’ll be working hard on recording the next album in October and November so we can have it out next year. I won’t be doing anything else until after the wedding, though. I promised Stevie I’d help him plan everything.”
The crowd cheered, and Steve spoke up.
“He also p-promised t-to visit the loc-cation with me in Novemb-ber so we’ll see,” Steve teased, seeming to relax quite a bit more.
The interview carried on, mostly focusing on Eddie’s band and some more casual talk of the wedding and future plans.
Steve never completely relaxed, but he seemed much more at ease as Hannah focused more on Eddie for a few minutes, smiling at Steve when he decided to add something.
“Alright, that’s all the time we have boys! It was lovely to have you and we’re so looking forward to your future together!”
The audience cheered, the boys waved goodbye, and they walked back to the green room to grab some water before going back to their hotel.
Eddie stopped Steve in the hall, ignoring the people passing by, and pulled Steve against him.
“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” he whispered against his lips before pressing a soft kiss there. “You’re amazing.”
“Eds, st-stop,” Steve blushed.
“Nope, wanna tell you all the time. You’re incredible.”
“F-fine.”
—--------------------
Steve is a lovely person, and I will not tolerate hate comments on anything related to the interview I did with him and Eddie. My team always does the best with reporting hate comments, so keep that in mind before posting something you may regret later. Any Eddie Munson fan should know that Eddie wouldn’t accept this disgusting behavior towards his fiance.
Steve could feel tears welling in his eyes as he read Hannah’s lovely public comment about some of the hate she’d been receiving in regards to their interview.
One comment in particular had hurt to see: a fan claiming that Eddie just felt bad for him and didn���t want to break up with him because Steve would run to the press with negative stories about him.
Eddie was still asleep, hadn’t seen most of what was being posted since the interview aired first thing that morning, but Steve did.
He liked Hannah’s statement and posted it to his Instagram story with a heart emoji.
He went through some responses from Eddie’s bandmates and liked them, too.
Steve is probably the best thing that’s happened to all of us, so any “fan” of ours who doesn’t see how awesome he is, consider yourself uninvited to any show. Gareth posted.
You guys better hope Eddie doesn’t hop on here and see all this or he’ll end up hunting you for sport. Jeff joked, though Steve knew that he may be more right than not.
Imagine being so jealous of someone that you decide to make fun of the one thing they’re self-conscious about. Couldn’t be me. Grant posted on all his social media profiles.
Then he saw Robin’s post and his heart stopped for a moment.
My best friend is the bravest person I know. He only has a stutter because he risked his life to protect me. If head trauma is a joke to you, then I hope you find new material soon. When Eddie sees this, he’s gonna lose his shit.
Steve let out a mix of a sob and a laugh, startling Eddie awake.
“What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?” he asked as he sat up in their bed.
“I g-guess p-people aren’t a b-big fan of me,” he said as he held his phone out towards Eddie to show him what was going on.
Eddie’s face flushed red with anger before he calmly handed Steve his phone back.
“Eds?”
Eddie silently reached for his own phone and pulled up his notes app.
Steve watched him type furiously for a few minutes, then screenshot a couple of times, and open Instagram.
“Eds…it’s fine. Not w-worth it.”
But it was too late, and Steve’s phone went off with a notification that he’d been tagged in Eddie’s post.
It was a series of pictures, the first being a picture taken of them shortly after Steve’s worst head injury, when he barely could speak at all.
The next few images were the screenshots from Eddie’s phone.
I can’t believe I have to say this, but here goes. Steve Harrington, soon-to-be Munson, is the best person I know. I am lucky to be able to wake up next to him, to call him mine, to be his. He is incredibly brave, incredibly loving, and much too forgiving. He will be much nicer than I will. He is not defined by his stutter, but it is a part of his life, and it does impact him much more than he should ever have to worry about. But that picture you just saw? That was a man who could barely even say my name. I thought I would never hear him even say my name again. I’ve seen comments making fun of how he talks, how long it takes him to say some things, his intelligence. And I won’t tolerate it. If you have anything negative to say about him, unfollow me before I block you myself. Fame means absolutely nothing to me compared to this man, and I won’t let him suffer through the bullying just so I can make some fucking music. See yourself out or see us be happy. Up to you.
The last image was a picture of them the night before, cozy in their bed, Steve looking into the camera while Eddie looked at him, so much love passing from him it was almost a physical presence.
“Eds-” Steve started.
“I love you. I won’t let anyone let you think for a second that I don’t,” Eddie said fiercely.
“I know. I l-love you, t-too.”
They both shut off their phones for the rest of the day, didn’t care much for anything outside of their bed.
Steve called Hannah to thank her for everything the next day, and she was grateful to hear from him. He explained that he wouldn’t be doing any more interviews, but was glad he’d had a positive experience with her.
“Do you think Eddie will come back to the show someday to talk about you?” she asked.
“I th-think you’ll reg-gret asking him back. He won’t sh-shut up about me,” Steve smirked to himself.
“He shouldn’t. You’re both so lucky to have each other.”
“Yeah. W-we are.”
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riality-check · 11 months
Text
tw for mentions of substance abuse (part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7)
ao3
Steve Harrington has been awake for fifty four hours. With luck, he'll be able to eke out another eighteen. Three days seems to be the sweet spot, even if he only makes it there half the time and, of that half, it only works half the time.
It's better than nothing.
Maybe four days is the sweet spot. Ninety six is close to one hundred, and that seems like a good omen.
Omens don't really matter though. What matters is staying awake.
So, Steve chugs his coffee and walks into the conference room. Coffee isn't enough, not nearly, but it'll do until he gets desperate enough to take something.
He really does try to only take them when he's desperate. It's easier that way, to just do it when he feels like he needs to rather than measuring dosages and remembering times. Hours start to blur around hour forty of being awake.
He walks in, sits down in the chair closest to the door, and is met with a withering glare from Eddie Munson.
Listen. Steve isn't happy about this either, but at least he doesn't look like he stepped in dog shit on the way here. Then again, Steve doesn't have the luxury of ever looking truly unhappy.
Eddie is a rock star. Mean is part of his brand, while mean is the antithesis to Steve's.
Whatever.
"Are you kidding me?" Eddie says, still staring at him, but Steve knows he's not who he's asking.
"He's the best person for the job," Chrissy, Eddie's manager, says.
"We don't need him."
Someone taps Steve's left shoulder. He turns to see Jeff, the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, give him a warm smile.
"Nice to meet you, Steve," he says, and Steve shakes his proffered hand.
"Happy to help," he says, and it's only half a lie.
The drummer and the bassist - Steve would probably be able to remember their names if he wasn't so exhausted - wave their hellos from a few seats away.
"Hi, Steve," Chrissy says.
He takes another swig of his coffee and gives her a little wave in response.
"We don't need a pop singer to write lyrics for us," Eddie says, still not letting this go.
"Yes, you do," Steve says. He sets his coffee cup down on the table and opens the folder he brought with him. "I read through the lyrics of every one of your songs."
"You didn't even listen to them?"
"Would have taken too much time."
That's a lie. Listening, even with the lengthy guitar solos, probably would have taken less time. But Steve needs something to fill the hours when he's supposed to be asleep, and reading, that slow process with its ample, awakening frustration, is the perfect thing.
"You became so much less interesting after your first album," he says. "Every one of your songs talks about the same thing. Conquering evil, killing demons, blah blah blah."
"That's what's in right now," Eddie snaps.
Out of the corner of his eye, Steve catches the drummer and Chrissy make the same motion. They pinch the bridges of their noses, clearly frustrated.
Steve sees why Chrissy wanted to talk to him.
"It is," he concedes. "But I also read the lyrics of every song by the bands with top ten hits. They don't talk about it nearly as much. They sing about other stuff. And they don't use an F major chord in every one of their songs."
"We don't-"
"We kinda do, Eddie," the bassist pipes up. "I'm a little sick of playing F."
Eddie takes a breath. Steve takes the opportunity to take a pill.
He found a way to make it less obvious for people who have something to say about it. Steve will take one from his pocket, yawn, cover his mouth, and swallow it dry. Easy peasy. They don't notice, he doesn't have to deal with people who don't get it making comments.
Except when he does, this time, Eddie narrows his eyes. Like he knows what he's doing.
Steve doesn't like that look.
"Have you read my stuff?" He won't ask if Eddie has listened to any of it. He knows the answer is no, if he keeps bringing up genre like that really means anything.
Eddie doesn't respond. He keeps those narrowed eyes trained on Steve and stays silent.
"Didn't think so," he says, and he slides over the thick stack of papers Robin stapled together for him last night. "Here's everything. Read it. Tell me if you like it. I'm only helping you if you give a shit. This goes two ways, and I don't want to waste my time if you think I'm wasting yours."
Eddie doesn't take the stack, but the drummer, sitting next to him, tugs them closer. "Thanks."
"Let me know tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Jeff says, eyebrows raised.
Steve forgets that most people don't actually take advantage of their twenty four hours.
"End of the week," he says instead, and he relaxes when Jeff does.
The drummer starts flipping through the pages while the bassist looks over his shoulder.
"Need anything else from me?" Steve asks Chrissy.
"I don't think so," she says. "I'll call you back to set up a time for Saturday."
He's amazed by the fact that someone as sweet as her works with someone as pretentious as Eddie.
"Sounds good," he says, and he walks out, trying to ignore the feeling of Eddie's eyes on him as he goes through the door.
It only halfway works.
The pill should kick in soon, within a half hour, maybe shorter because of the coffee. Maybe he'll write something. Maybe he'll work on the piano melody he's been tinkering with for the past week. Maybe he'll read the latest book Robin picked up from the library, something interesting enough to be worth the frustration of the moving letters, something that will still fill the time.
He'll make it to seventy two hours. Then he'll crash because his body is a worthless piece of shit, and he hopes this is the half of the time when he doesn't have any goddamn nightmares.
Maybe he should pop another pill, just in case.
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Text
Hazband 2: Band AU
Buckle Up, Buttercups. This is gonna be looooooooooong.
-"Insider Bands" playing on VH666 streaming services on a computer monitor / TV screen sitting on the desk against the far wall-
Charlie: (laying on her belly on her bed and chewing her nails like a cartoon goat chews through a field of grass as she watches the TV)
Riff Rascal: Alright, dudes, dudettes, non-duders, and rock-aholics! That was Simple Plain's newest single "Why Are We Kids?!". Coming up next, our guy, our big shredder, our big bad-
????: Dammit, Riff!!!! Just get on with it!!!
Riff Rascal: Yo, sorry, boss lady! Coming up next, we have our expert in all things metal and shredding, Axel Steelgrave, conducting a super secret, super exclusive interview with one of Hell's latest and greatest! Stay tuned!
Charlie: (whines and plasters her face into the comforter) Fuck! I really messed up! I shouldn't have released that album, guys! What if Vaggie doesn't like girls outside of the metal scene?! Then I'm just the creepy, stalker, pop diva who messages her on Sinstagram every once and a while! And likes all of her posts! And comments on each picture! And-
Razzle: (trying to finish polishing Charlie's hooves after a full pedicure and hoof care) Baap?
Charlie: So? It was only ever mentioned once in a tabloid that she was once in a poly ship with a man and woman before. Nothing set in stone. Who listens to tabloids anyway? She said she was a lesbian in her last interview with Angel Metal Monthly.
Dazzle: (brings up a wide array of nail polishes) BaaaAaaAp?
Charlie: Yes! She messages me back almost immediately after every message I send her, but that doesn't mean the's interested in me. She hasn't been online in a week! (rolls over and flops onto her back, covering her eyes with her arm) Not since Katie Killjoy did that whole news segment on my new single music video and album.
Dazzle: (painting Charlie's hooves in a deep red hue called "Wicked Sinister") Baaaaaaap. BaaaAAaaap. Baap. (clicks his hoof in a way that's supposed to look like a sassy finger snap and blows heated air over the paint)
Razzle: Baap! (scowls) Baaap. Baaa. Baap!
Charlie: Thanks, Razzle. No, Dazzle. I really don't think this is some kind of rebound. I really started liking her during the Battle of the Bands gig over at the Jackpot Hotel and Casino. She was the first person who didn't openly laugh at me being there even though I was the only pop singer there.
-VH666 blares back with a heavy metal guitar riff-
Axel Steelgrave: Hey, good evening, everyone. How's it going? Tonight, we have a very special guest. (camera pans out to show Vaggie sitting next to Axel in an interview chair) Lead singer, guitarist, and rocking girl, Vaggie the Steel Vagina from Fallen Angels.
Charlie: WHAT?!?!?!?!?! (crocodile death rolls around in her excitement and falls out of bed, completely wrapped in a burrito, and worm crawls over to the TV) RAZZLE!!! DAZZLE!!! TURN IT UP!!!
Razzle: (salutes) Baap! (grabs the remote and turns up the volume)
Dazzle: (sad bleats as he looks at the mess of nail polish everywhere) baaaaaap.....
Vaggie: (trying not to snarl at the name) It's just Vaggie, Axel.
Axel Steelgrave: Oh, sure. Sure. Well, thank you so much for taking the time to come and see us. Not gonna lie. We were shocked to hear that you were coming out with a new single so quickly.
Charlie: (plasters her face to the screen) New Single?!?!?!?!?!
Vaggie: (blushes slightly) Well, I figured after hearing the Princess's new album and call-out, I should work on a reply.
Angel: (from behind the camera man) You wouldn't have had ta write and record a whole new song and music video if you just sent 'er a video of you jacking it all week! I've never heard dat vibrator work so hard in its life! I swear I smelled smoke last night!
Charlie: (squeals, gasps, and shrieks all at once and falls backwards)
Vaggie: (jumps up from her seat) Angel! What the Fuck?!
Axel Steelgrave: Well, well, well, I guess that answers my next question. I take it this new single is going to be good news for the Princess?
Vaggie: (still steaming as she sits back down and tries to compose herself) I know you have the video on hand. Why not play it and let the fans see for themselves?
Axel Steelgrave: I couldn't have said it better myself. (to the camera) With that being said, let's take a look at a sneak peek of Fallen Angel's new single: "Dear, Charlie - For Somewhere Better".
-Video cuts to some random point in the music video where Vaggie is standing in black leather skirt that has the leather ripped into strips in a hoola-skirt style, black halter tank top, thigh high leather heeled boots, and black fingerless gloves, holding and shredding a guitar. Angel is a pink, fabulous gay disaster on drums while one set of hands works a keyboard.-
Vaggie: (singing) We'll ignite. Still dreaming wide awake. On the hunt for "Somewhen brighter". Pull me close now, and I'll dream until my dying day. Till we create a new "Somewhere better". The promise of a life. Like a thousand suns inside my broken heart. I can see through your eyes. And embrace the flame that guides me through the night.
-Video Cuts back to the interview-
Axel Steelgrave: (freaking out excitedly) Wow! That's quite the statement! Good on you, Steel Vagina!
Vaggie: Vaggie.
Axel Steelgrave: Before we end this exclusive, is there anything you want to say to the Princess in case she's watching?
Vaggie: (Face falls briefly as her eye widens and a blush colors her face) Oh.... (shakes her head to compose herself, looks into the camera, and makes a telephone gesture) Call me~
Axel Steelgrave: (laughing) Alright! You heard it here first, folks. "Dear, Charlie" will be available on HellTunes tonight at midnight. Thank you all so much for tuning in. And, as always, stay rocking.
Charlie: (finally managing to unravel the blanket and sitting on the floor with a bright red blush) C-Call.... Her.... She wants me to call her... (jumps up and down like a teenager in a bad "not another teen movie" while holding Razzle and Dazzle's hooves) SHE WANTS ME TO CALL HER!!!! (pauses) How?! I don't have her number!
-DING!-
Charlie: (dives for her phone on the floor and opens a new Sinstagram message)
FallenAngelVaggie: Hope you got a chance to watch "Insider Bands" tonight. Talk to you later? Maybe over coffee? XXX-XXX-XXXX
Charlie: (takes a deep breath) SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Vaggie: (leaning against the wall of the VH666 studio, holding her phone against her chest, and taking a long drag of a cigarette)
Angel: Hey! I thought you were quitting! (yoinks the cigarette and plops it between his lips)
Vaggie: Dammit, Angel! I said I'd be done once my case is empty! (digs in her pocket and pulls out an angelic steel cigarette case) It still has four left! I haven't even lit up in nearly six months!
Angel: I know! Proud of you for that. That interview rile you up that much that you gotta wreck six months of hard work?
Vaggie: Ugh! (slams her back into the wall) You think Charlie got the message?
-squeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
Angel: (looks up at the sky towards the Morningstar Mansion where it looks like fireworks are going off on one of the balconies) Oh, I think she got it~
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