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#AU!Stranger Things
hellcheer-heaven · 10 months
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Winners of the art poll: Chrissy and Bat!Eddie. I had some digital sketches that I made months ago and I decided to complete them. The art is Don Bluth inspired and based on a previous piece of fan art that I made of them here.
Chrissy wanders around in the forest and finds a little bat, secretly caring for it at her house. She’s surprised to learn that said bat can talk and has been inflicted with a terrible curse by the evil Vecna.
I decided to include the art with and without the vhs filter.
Also yes Chrissy’s hair looks bad in the forest scene 😣
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canisalbus · 7 months
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✦ Trick or treat ✦
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littleststarfighter · 11 days
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Shared to my Patreon on Valentines, so it's about time I posted here.
It was just a kiss by the locker's. Maybe Eddie knew Steve before season 4? But Steve's so surprised and embarrassed by the peck on the cheek he blanks it till they meet again 😘
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
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What if Steve is a famous model and Eddie is a rockstar, both still pretty down to earth that they move around without bodyguards...
They bump into each other at a corner, and literally bump into each other - Steve somehow lost his contact lenses and he's half-blind without them, his agent Robin is traveling, he'd rather lose both of his eyes than to call his parents, and so he's trying to get to a pharmacy/optometrist/somewhere else just based on memory and touch.
Eddie is walking, not paying much attention and listening to music, when he's knocked back by a very apologetic squinting guy who might as well be very pretty, if he looked straight at Eddie - which is very much not possible, as Steve later explains, Eddie is a very blurry blob to him, although a very kind blob. Also a really nice sounding blob.
When Eddie collects his things and his heart off the streetwalk, he offers to walk Steve to the pharmacy. After asking if it's okay, he offers Steve his arm and leads him carefully to his destination. Steve is still mostly staring at the ground, trying to fight blurry nausea, so Eddie doesn't really know what he looks like, except that his hair is magnificent.
They reach the pharmacy, Steve is so thankful that he wants to invite Eddie for coffee, but before he can do that, Eddie receives an urgent call from his agent and needs to leave.
They both - not without a tinge sadness - think they won't see each other again.
Except the next day there's a wave of tabloid headlines: "CORRODED COFFIN'S EDDIE MUNSON FINALLY SETTLES DOWN?! THE ROCKSTAR SEEN WITH REDKEN'S MODEL STEVE HARRINGTON!" and there are pictures of Steve and Eddie, side by side, and it really looks like a romantic walk rather than what it was.
When Eddie's agent Chrissy calls, half-amused, half-concerned, Eddie stops her with a single sentence: "Can you get me his number?!"
Chrissy snorts in the phone. "Give me an hour."
It takes her 33 minutes in total, and she secures a date with Robin for herself as a bonus.
And as for Eddie? He opens his message with "Hey Steve, how come you never told me it was a date? I would have brought flowers!" and gets an immediate response of "You would have, huh? Then bring some today at seven, the pizzeria next to the pharmacy. I like sunflowers. See you there, Eddie. And this time, I mean really see you."
The "see you" jokes stay with them for the rest of their lives.
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capncassas · 1 year
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JOL: CHAPTER ONE
“Hayley, what in God’s name is all this about?” 
Janice is staring at me like I’ve come home from school with two heads. Shit, for all I know, I probably have. 
What was I thinking?
“What the crap was I thinking!?” I’m in my sisters closet, I can’t go through my moms. Good God, no. But Janice? Yes, Janice will have the solution buried somewhere in the back of her well stocked closet. She has casual, she has professional, and she has, fuck me my body is ready.
But is my body ready? It feels like my heart is going to suddenly stop ticking and then explode out of my chest like that monster in the Alien movie.
“What were you thinking, what? When? Where? I am so confused.” Janice said, suddenly taking my shoulders and dragging me away from her closet to turn me to face her. “Hay… stop. Tell me what this is all about because otherwise, I have no idea how to help you.”
It all started during free period. I had thirty minutes of free time before my next class so, per usual, I was spending that time in the library. The Hawkins school library isn’t the liveliest place, it’s usually frequented by the usual suspects. Me, the chess club sometimes takes up a table in the back for a quick game between classes, then there are the avid studiers, which I am a card carrying member. I know this is my last year and I haven’t decided what I want to do after highschool. I haven’t even started applying to colleges.
I know, I know!
It’s not even a good enough excuse that my parents can pretty much buy my way into any college in the country — but I don’t even know if I want to stay in the country. Sometimes, I think about traveling, seeing the world before I lock myself in doors for another four years of higher education. 
But today, the usual hushed tone of the library is — disturbed. As I’m walking through the stacks to the back of the library I can hear hushed whispers. Female by the sounds of it, and the seductive low tones of — fuck.
What was Billy Hargove doing in the library?
This was basically the one place in the entire school where I could totally relax because there wasn’t a blizzard's chance in hell that he would be caught dead in the school library.
So, obviously, like any good junior detective, I wanted to know what he was doing here.
“Isn’t Shakespear so romantic?” Kourtney Southerland’s voice was like that dewy breathlessness I’ve always heard in movies but never in real life.
Oh, she was pouring it on so thick.
My happy ass was lurking — I’m not ashamed to admit that. But lucky for me, the classic literature portion of the library is housed in two rows against the back wall of the library. 
I’d seen Billy in English Lit. He never looked at me, but I glanced at him. Somehow the two of us chose seats in the rear so there was me, Kaye Mooning, Jennifer Holcomb, and then Billy Hargrov next to the window. He usually spent most of the class looking outside.
I wasn’t even sure why Kourtney was here, she didn’t have English lit during the second period… but then, I did know why she was here. The same reason every girl was seated around that table. Billy.
To give them some credit, Samantha Tuttle’s boyfriend Alex was there too, but he actually looked like he was studying. And also maybe guarding Sam from Mr. Steal Your Girl.
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? 
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, 
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Samantha had a phenomenal grasp of Shakespear, we’d partnered as study buddies last year so hearing her lilting voice recite probably one of the most famous romance quotes of all time was breathtaking. Even if I was eavesdropping.
“I think I’d understand this more if it were in Spanish.” Billy’s voice drifted on a whisper to my ears. 
Whether he meant for anyone else to hear or not, I didn’t know. I was listening with my back to them.
“The Elizabethan language is sort of like Spanish until you get used to it.” I said, biting my tongue the instant the words escaped my lips. I swear to God, sometimes I think there is a disconnect between my brain and my mouth.
The silence and rustling of fabric from behind my back told me there were eyes trained on me.
“You understand this?”
Jesusfuck. It was him.
Holding a copy of Yeats in my hand, I turned slightly, giving him a brief nod before sliding the book back into its place, ready to move on from this embarrassing interlude in my regular routine.
“What’s it mean, then?”
Billy had his arm slung over the back of a straight back chair, his copy of Romeo and Juliet in his hand, his thumb holding his place.
With a full table of eyes staring at me, including Sam, Alex, Kourtney and Jennifer, I stared back in defiance. I was not going to be cowed into submission by the likes of people that I knew didn’t like me based purely on a teenage higherarchy. My parents might have made just as much money as there, but I was not fool enough to believe any amount of money accepted me within their ranks.
“It means,” I cleared my throat, “Juliet is basically asking, are you Romeo, a Montigue — deny your identity, but if you won’t I will still love you and I will deny my family and run away with you. She’s telling him she will throw it all away to be with him, her family, the Capulet’s,  sworn enemy.”
I shrugged a bit while I watched a few people, namely Alex flick back a few pages to re-read the quote before his eyes looked at Samantha for confirmation.
Thank my lucky stars the bell rang and everyone had to get out of their seats to go to their next class. Mine was Calculus so I still have another twenty minutes in my break.
I turned, making my way to a set of seats near the window that was quiet and dumped my backpack on the table making it pretty apparent I didn’t want a partner as I sat down. That wasn’t so bad — it wasn’t like the time Molly Harrison did a complete nose dive during dodgeball and broke her nose. I could live without being escorted to the nurses station with all the blood in my head dripping down my face in front of the entire school.
Her eyes were black for two weeks.
“So? That’s all?” Janice asked after I finished explaining — but that was only Act 1 of the play which would lead to me ultimate demise.
“No… he found me. Billy followed me right up to my table and asked me if I would tutore him and I said sure, come over tonight — AND NOW HE’S COMING OVER TONIGHT!”
That was my dilemma, why couldn’t Janice see that? The guy every girl in my entire school wanted was coming over in an hour to learn Shakespear.
Janice’s eyes softened while her hands squeezed my shoulders.
“Then it’s that simple, he comes over, you study. That’s it. You don’t need a whole wardrobe change for that, just wear what you’re wearing now.”
I couldn’t believe it. It was so simple it might just work. It wasn’t like Billy Hargrove had any interest in me other than passing English lit. I felt all the steam evaporate like someone popped the valve on a pressure cooker.
“Just treat him like anyone else, it’s not a big deal.”
Heh… Janice hadn’t seen Billy Harvgrove, he was definitely a big deal but now that I wasn’t worried about looking like the proverbial Snack…I felt a different kind of anxiety.
He didn’t want me. I was just a one way ticket to an A in Mr. Longwood’s class…and that felt even worse than the prospect of making a fool of myself trying to flirt.
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toktopus-art · 1 year
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what if?
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ahhrenata · 2 months
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Steve’s singing quietly under his breath and eddie’s just 🤩 completely distracted.
as always, inspired by @sparklyslug 💕
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hellcheer-heaven · 10 months
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Eddie Munson Simpsonized.
Decided to make his devil horn look in this style.
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plasticcrotches · 1 month
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Wayne Munson helping a wolf out of a bear trap, only for said wolf to start bringing him deer and rabbits and sometimes weirdly cash? And none of the raccoons have been digging round his trash like they usually do…
He gets a knock on the door one day and it’s his old buddy Jim Hopper with that Harrington kid standing sheepishly behind him, with his arm wrapped up in bandages and a long cut running through his brow. Hop cuffs the kid on the back of the head and then the boy is stepping forward and apologizing, then saying “thanks again, sir.”
It takes Wayne a few days to piece together that the boy is his wolf.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 3 months
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I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.
He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.
He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.
He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."
He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."
"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"
And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."
For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."
But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."
And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."
Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.
Eddie is ready to run.
But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"
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thinking about married teacher steve and rockstar eddie.
steve’s students like to poke fun at him for “not being cool” or “trying to be cool”, and steve just feeds into it and plays up his cluelessness to modern things and what’s “hip” nowadays. he always just tells them they have no idea, and they’re gonna eat their words one day when they see how cool he really is, but all the kids just laugh and think he’s being sarcastic.
one day a group in his class is talking about the popular rock music star eddie munson, about his music and how much they love him, and steve joins in, asking them about eddie and what kind of music he makes and so on. he says something like “oh yeah, i think i know munson. yeah he’s cool, makes good stuff” and the kids are like “as if you know eddie munson, mr h, there is no way”. steve just chuckles and says “if you say so”
meanwhile eddie EATS EACH STORY UP when steve comes home with a something new to tell him all about what his kids were saying to him today
honourable mention but eddie also is WEAK for steve’s teacher outfits, the button ups, the vests, when he wears a tie WITH his glasses consider eddie a dead man.
on the last day of class for the year steve has given his class almost a free period of sorts to just chat and muck about being that it’s so close to vacation and all, and ofc the topic of steve’s uncoolness comes up again, and he’s just all laughs and smiles not even trying to fight back while they poke harmless fun at him, just looking smug as shit knowing these kids are in for a treat.
the bell goes and they all start to pack up their things to leave, and steve calls out to get their attention, remember the homework, stay safe, have a good break and all that, but THEN who else walks through the classroom door but eddie. munson. heading straight towards steve telling him “hey babe, ready to go?”
“yep, just let me grab my stuff” steve says back, and the class is stunned silent. eddie walks over to steve’s desk and puts a hand on his back as steve is leaning over it putting books and pages into his bag, “you guys are all free to go” he looks up to the class, smug as ever.
as he and eddie head towards the door, steve stops and turns around back to his class one last time, whisper shouting over his shoulder “who’s cool now?”
eddie is laughing infront of him as they walk out together, listening to the classroom they’d just left erupt into chaos.
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steviesbicrisis · 7 months
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A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.
Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.
Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.
Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.
As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.
Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.
Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.
Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.
"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.
"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.
"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"
They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.
Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.
Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.
"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.
"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."
If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.
"What?"
"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"
"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.
"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."
"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.
Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"
"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.
Everything feels different now.
Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"
"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."
A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.
Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.
Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.
Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.
“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.
Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”
“You heard me” Steve says.
“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”
For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”
Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.
“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.
“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.
“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”
“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.
Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”
Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”
Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”
“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”
Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”
He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.
Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.
“I think I’m in love.”
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littleststarfighter · 8 months
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Blue masquerade, strangers look on
When will they learn this loneliness?
Temptation heat beats like a drum
Deep in your veins, I will not lie -Cry little Sister.
On insta I said I was going to do a special picture for Friday the 13th as it's also my birthday. And everyone seemed to agree it was to be Lost Boys or Steddie. So here's Lost Boys Steddie. Steve thinks it's just an innocent beach date and he’s embarrassed by his ketchup accident. And Eddie is trying so hard not to reveal his not so innocent vampire tendencies. Or you could say I just wanted to draw cute guys in leather 😁
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riality-check · 9 months
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Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.
But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.
Steve very much did not need to know that.
With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.
He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.
Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.
So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.
“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.
“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.
The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.
A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.
And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.
“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”
“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”
“We already have the axe!”
“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”
“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”
Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.
“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”
“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.
“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”
“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”
“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.
“You gotta give him context.”
“No, I don’t, Jeff.”
The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.
“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.
“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”
“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”
Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”
Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.
Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"
"Anna," she says.
"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"
"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."
"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.
Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."
"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."
Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.
"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.
Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”
“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.
Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.
It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.
It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.
Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-
Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.
Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.
He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"
She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.
Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"
"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.
"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.
"Like dancing?"
"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."
"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"
Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.
"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."
"Sorry," Eddie whispers.
"Don't be."
Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."
"Anna," Steve cautions.
"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.
Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"
"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.
Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.
By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.
Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.
When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.
"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"
"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but you-"
"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.
"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.
Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.
Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.
"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."
"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"
"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"
Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."
The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.
Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.
Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.
He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.
He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.
Whatever that means.
Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.
He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.
It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.
It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.
Shit.
(Part 2 is alive!!)
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m00npiez · 9 months
Text
Modern Steddie AU
“Oh she’s cute.” Robin points over to a table near the bar.
Steve follows her finger and the blonde in the pink pleated skirt is, in fact, very cute. “You should go talk to her.”
Robin gives him a look, “Literally everything about her screams ‘straight’ so no thanks,” she takes a sip of her cocktail, “Don’t feel like getting humiliated today.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “I doubt she’d humiliate you but suit yourself.” He stands and fluffs up his hair a little, “If you won’t, I sure as hell will.”
Before his friend can protest, Steve’s strutting over to the girl’s table. She looks up at him when he stops and leans slightly against the chair opposite from hers.
“Hi!” she greets before he can say anything. Her whole face lights up as she smiles. She’s definitely cute, but not exactly what Steve had in mind for the night.
“Hey,” Steve flashes his own smile, “I was just telling my friend how cute you are and wanted to know if I could maybe buy you a drink?”
Her face goes pink, but her smile falters slightly and a small frown forms. “Oh that’s so nice of you, but I’m actually a lesbian,” she seems genuinely upset at having to break this news to him. “I’m really sorry, you seem lovely.”
Steve’s eyes widen slightly, but his smile remains, “Oh, god, sorry I should have asked,” he laughs, “That’s totally my bad.”
She shakes her head and leans forward in her seat, “Not at all, sweetheart!” there’s a slight southern accent slipping through and her smile is back. “You couldn’t have known, I know I don’t exactly look the part.”
“Well, since I’m already here,” Steve smirks, glancing over his shoulder to where he can see Robin watching the scene unfold. Her eyes snap away once she realizes he’s looking at her. “My friend over there is single and also extremely gay.”
Chrissy looks over and her smile turns coy, “Now she’s cute,” her eyes snap back to Steve. “She’s the one who told you to come over?”
“The opposite, actually. She thought you were straight so, I came over instead.” Steve explains.
Chrissy nods, glances over her shoulder and then stands. “Well, I’ll just have to go over there then.”
Steve smiles, “I’m Steve, by the way.”
“Chrissy.” The blonde extends her hand and Steve shakes it. “Thank you for letting me know the girl I’ve been eyeing is queer.”
Steve gives her a two-finger salute and goes to walk away, but she grabs his wrist to stop him.
“Do you like men, by any chance?” Chrissy asks, her smile alluding to something.
“Is it that obvious?” Steve laughs.
She gives him a once-over, “The tight shirt sort of gave you away.”
“Fair enough. Why do you ask?”
Chrissy points over to a curly-haired guy covered in tattoos, who’s ordering at the bar, “You should go talk to my friend, Eddie, he’s been blabbing about the hot jock in the polo since you walked in.”
Steve swallows, he’d seen the guy when they walked in, but hadn’t allowed himself to look. He was the kind of hot and scary Steve usually avoided due to their usual disdain for preppy guys like Steve. But surely if he kept Chrissy around, he couldn’t be all bad.
“I don’t exactly seem like his type.” Steve points out, giving Chrissy a nervous glance.
She laughs, “Oh please, pretty boy with big eyes and a great body? You’re everyone’s type.”
“Not yours.”
“Trust me honey, if you were a masc lesbian I’d be all over you right about now.” Chrissy winks and Steve can feel his face heating up.
“I don’t want to bother him…”
Chrissy rolls her eyes, “Just use the same line you used on me, he doesn’t bite.” she pauses, “Unless you ask really nicely.”
Yeah she isn’t exactly easing his nerves with these little jabs.
“He looks like he carries a knife.” Steve’s just stalling at this point.
“I know he seems kinda mean and scary, but he’s really just a big ol’ softie, trust me,” she pats his shoulder, picks up her drink and starts walking towards Robin, “Now I’ve got a pretty lady to talk to, so get! Go make a move on the scary metalhead, Steve!”
Steve watches her go, his amusement growing at the sight of Robin’s panic when Chrissy plops down at their table.
Mustering up the courage to walk to the bar, he turns but immediately bumps into someone. The person manages to steady their drink and somehow prevent Steve from falling on his ass, grabbing him around the waist.
“Shit sorry!” Steve finds his footing, only to nearly lose it again when he looks up to find his face a few inches away from the aforementioned friend of Chrissy’s.
Eddie smiles, squeezes Steve’s waist once before releasing him, “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.”
Steve’s face must have been bloodshot at that point. Two people had called him sweetheart within the span of a few minutes. At this rate his brain was going to malfunction entirely.
Eddie studies him for a second, his eyes twinkling, before looking over to the now unoccupied table. He frowns, looking around the bar.
“She’s over there.” Steve points to where the two girls are deep in conversation.
Eddie’s eyes look from Steve to Chrissy and back again. “Were you heading back there?”
“Uh, no, actually,” Steve clears his throat. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “I was told to go talk to the scary metalhead?”
Eddie’s grin returned, showing off his dimples. Steve was allowing himself to stare at the man now, and god was he stunning.
“Scary? That’s rich coming from the girl who literally carries a knife with her.” Eddie sits down at the table and looks at Steve expectantly, “I don’t bite,” he gestures for him to sit, so he does.
“Apparently you do if I ask nicely,” Steve says, then feels his face heat up again when he hears what he said.
Eddie laughs, loud and beautiful, “God, she really knows how to play wingman, huh?”
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little-bumblebeeee · 2 months
Text
Eddie finding Steve on one of those gay dating sites but all of Steve's photos are like Straight Man Photos
Here is Steve holding a fish
Here is Steve at the gym
Here is Steve– oh shit he has a cute dog–
Here is Steve in front of a car
(Eddie totally swipes right tho because goddamn)
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