#ranger eddie

[ranger-rai]

Dear ranger rai,

Is it a common thing for rangers to work with another rangers partner pokemon?

The reason I'm asking is because two of the area rangers I've seen have a staraptor and a pichu but the pokemon work in sync with both rangers and its hard to tell whos partner is whos. But i don't know if it's just these two or not.

It's perfectly common to work with another rangers pokemon.

While my whole team mostly works with me, occasionally Bliss, Kuriboh and Runt will work with most of the other rangers when they need help.

I'm not in the water as often as Minnie's Cloyster partner "Archy" is pretty chill with me. However, I'm always checking in on "the Duke" He still isn't officially my Pokemon, so when I need water-based help, I usually work with Archy.

Minnie is currently training her Carvannah, so not a lot of chances to work with it yet, but who knows.

Smokey, Eddie's Bewear is a sweetheart but doesn't like to work with anyone but him.

We all work together, and some pairings work really well together.

#ranger minnie #ranger eddie #smokey #archy #cloyster #bewear #ranger rai #ranger teams

[axelwolf8109]

Steddie as Aralas!!

#stranger things #lord of the rings #steve harrington #eddie munson #legolas #Aragorn #steddie #aralas #elf steve #ranger Eddie

[flowercrowngods]

okay due to popular demand (3 people mwah!), here's all i have on prisoners ranger!steve, bard!eddie, and the royal entourage accompanying the diplomatic mission that went so horribly wrong

Steve’s whole body is made of pain, and has been for the past few days. His feet are aching and raw from trying to keep up as they were bound to horses and dragged along. His skin is chafed and bleeding where the unforgiving rocks have managed to destroy his clothes after one too many falls, and every smallest of cuts feels like his body is nothing more than a pulsating mess. 

Worst of all, though, is the dizziness. He doesn’t know if his head is still bleeding or if the wetness he can feel running down his temple is his body’s testament to the unfamiliar heat, but it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. 

There’s only pain. And nausea. His eyes are open but he needs a second to understand what he’s seeing — and what he’s seeing is a ceiling made of sand coloured stone. Distantly, he hears a door clanging shut, but that might just as well be a memory. 

He’s going to throw up. Tough luck when you don’t even know where up is. 

A groan leaves his mouth as he tries to take a deep breath and fails miserably. Instead, he can add two broken ribs to the list of misery. 

Gods above — whichever of them are listening — he’s tired. But he fears that if he closes his eyes, he might not open them anymore for the sheer release that would bring. He can’t sleep, can’t rest, not when— 

“Easy now,” a gentle voice interrupts his less than coherent thoughts and just moments later, a tender hand is combing through his blood-crusted hair. “You shouldn’t move, my friend. There’s nowhere to move to anymore.” 

Steve frowns, his brain trying and failing to provide any information at this point. The hits to his head must have been worse than he thought if his short term memory refuses to work with him anymore. 

“We have reached Capital City,” the voice continues and Steve has to blink the fog away to make out its owner. When he does, it must show in his eyes, for the worry in Theodore Munson’s eyes makes way to the briefest of smiles before returning even stronger than before. “Do you not recall?”

Steve just stares up at him. That’s all his wrecked body and mind allow him to do right now. That’s all they want to do when gentle hands comb through his hair and chase away some of the pain. 

It is then that reality slowly comes back to him and he realises where he is. Where they are. What is at stake if they fail any more, if they decide to torture information on Elanor and William out of them — out of him. He’s not sure how much he can take. They have been held prisoner for weeks. Steve has been hurting for even longer.

Shame rises in him and he has the urge to apologise to Jim, to explain, but moving his head to the side, he sees that his old master isn’t any better off. He appears to be sleeping, his face bruised, and a teary-eyed Maxine is wiping blood away from his face with a piece of her cloak. 

Steve blinks once, twice, and takes in the man who practically raised him, watches the steady rise and fall of his chest and listens, beyond the pulsing rush of his own blood, that his lungs are not rattling. Shame makes way to satisfaction when he sees that none of their party has taken as many hits, kicks and punches as himself. His distractions have worked, then. 

That’s good. Now if only they didn’t make him so nauseous. So tired. So…

“Don’t fall asleep, Steven,” Eddie demands, and the world tilts slightly, which makes everything worse until… soft. It’s softer now. 

Eddie has moved him so his head is resting in his lap now. 

“You don’t look too good, Ranger. Sleep is dangerous in your state, no matter how badly you might need it. Give it a few hours, please.” 

A beat passes where Steve tries to process the words that are just too many. Since when does Eddie talk with him so much? 

“Lies,” he says after a while and with greater effort than should be necessary.

“Lies?” 

“I look very good. You just can’t see it under all the blood and the bruises.” He tries to crack a smile, but even the huffed breath jolts his head too much. 

Eddie does him the favour of a brief chuckle, and Steve feels better for it. Lighter. Light is good, he finds. Maybe all he has to focus on is Eddie and his hands working out the clumps of dirt and blood from his hair, maybe all he has to do is make him smile and the world will be a bit less painful. 

His world narrows down to all the ways Eddie is close to him and it does keep him occupied, but it also gets his mind wandering, the adrenaline of the past days wearing off. 

“Keep doing that and I will fall asleep,” he says after another beat of silence. Fall asleep and dream. Dream of what this could mean. Dream of smiles that make me feel lighter. 

“Keep doing what?” Eddie asks, and Steve senses a trick to just keep him talking, no matter how slurred his speech is. He needs a moment to remember what he said.

“This,” he says eventually, and Eddie only hums. Finding words is hard. He tries. And tries again. “Being gentle.” 

Another smile, and Steve wants to close his eyes to keep it there to hold on to. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, my friend.” 

“Can’t not be gentle?” He’s losing force on the consonants. The pain is getting stronger, his nerve endings more frayed and his vision blurry. This is familiar. He gives himself another quarter of an hour at most before he will lose his consciousness, no matter how hard he tries to stay here. With Eddie and his wavering smile. 

“Not with my friends, no.” 

This time it’s Steve who smiles at the word friends. He likes to be Eddie’s friend. The man, as it turns out, is admirable, he’s strong, he’s wise when he wants to be and gentle with young Maxine. He’s kind, he’s quick-witted and patient, and his hands are impossibly soft. 

“I know you said not to sleep, and I’m not normally one to deny a well-respected bard’s command, but…” He swallows. Words are hard. He’s not sure they come out as planned, but he perseveres. “I’m afraid I have to prove to you now how stubborn the Queen’s Rangers can be.” 

Another hum from above him and Steve opens his eyes he hadn’t even noticed closing. The world is fading, but still Eddie is at its centre. 

“I’ll be here when you wake up, then, stubborn Ranger.” 

Will you smile at me still? Steve wonders. 

“Always,” Eddie says, but before Steve has time to wonder if someone else has said something, darkness has swallowed him whole.

———

Steve wakes to something cold touching his forehead, moving to his temple where suddenly a jarring pain wrecks his body and he can’t quite suppress the flinch. 

“Forgive me,” comes a quiet voice from above and Steve opens his eyes to the darkness of a cell, only faintly illuminated by the flickering light of a torch somewhere and the redness of the setting sun. “But I am glad to see you awake.”

The voice belongs to Eddie, who is looking down at him, a piece of cloth in his hand. Gently, he presses it to Steve’s forehead again and the cool sensation comes back, gentler this time. It takes a moment for Steve’s tired and frayed mind to catch up with reality, but when it does, he realises that the bard is washing away the dried blood and cleaning his wounds. 

What an odd picture they must make.

“Tell me,” he says before he has time to consider his words. “Is it normal for a bard of Northlands to take care of wounded Rangers?” 

“No,” Eddie says and there’s something to his voice Steve can’t quite identify. He’s not sure he likes it, not sure what it does to his insides. “There are never any Rangers there.” 

Even through the dim light, Steve can see the mirth in his eyes and it makes him laugh – if only briefly, for his body is quick to remind him that any sort of movement is a bad, terrible, truly horrid idea. He just barely manages to suppress a groan, but nothing could get past the bard’s eyes, and his hand moves from Steve’s forehead to his cheek almost immediately. 

“Careful, my friend. You shouldn’t be laughing.” 

“Stop making me laugh, then. That would make it all so much easier.” There’s no heat behind his words and he doesn’t even try not to lean into the touch. 

Eddie hums but stays quiet otherwise and keeps wiping Steve’s face clean, watching his every reaction. A frown slowly forms between those brows and Steve wonders what that is for. Did something happen while he was out of it? Time passes differently in the desert, yes, the sun and moon following different paths, but he can’t have been unconscious for more than three hours. It is barely yet nightfall, their cell colder than before. 

Three hours. And Eddie still sits cross-legged with Steve’s head on his thigh. 

Guilt and embarrassment shoot through him and he wants to move, wants to get up and release the bard from his demeaning task of playing nurse to a wounded Ranger, but his ribs protest and his head pulses with white-hot pain before it sends his world spinning again and Steve sags back into the warmth of Theodore. 

“I must be painting the most pathetic picture of her Majesty’s Rangers. I swear, most of us are better than this.” 

It comes out light hearted as always, despite the pain it leaves inside his chest to be presenting himself like this. Representing all Rangers to the kingdoms of the South with his weakness. All that on top of losing Will. Again. 

He closes his eyes against the pity he is bound to see in Eddie’s eyes. 

“You paint a picture of bravery such as I scarcely saw it before. Never in my life did I see a man move so slowly, so unseen unless as I was looking right at you. You are excellent with the sword and the bow, and even the weapons of the desert folk are natural to you. I can imagine the pain and suffering you have seen, some of which you must have caused in the name of justice, yet you carry inside yourself a light-heartedness that is refreshing to say the least.” 

Steve swallows, has never been good at taking compliments, and luckily hasn’t been in the position to accept them in quite a while. 

“Light-hearted?” he rasps. “You can’t be talking about the same Rangers I know, surely.” 

“I was talking about you, Steven,” Eddie admits quietly, and his voice is so tender when he says his name that it makes Steve’s breath hitch. 

“Oh,” he says intelligently. Swallows. “Then the head injury must be severe.” 

“Admirable of you to hide a concussion for so many days. I think healers of all kingdoms would have a lot of questions for you if they knew.”

Steve huffs and smiles through the pain of his undoubtedly broken ribs protesting. “My apologies, Eddie. Queen Joyce of the West and Sir James himself would both have my head if I taught you our concussion-hiding ways.”  

“A pity,” Eddie says and there’s that smile in his voice again that doesn’t show on his lips, at least in this light. Steve doesn’t care, though, as he smiles up at him. 

This moment in time belongs to the both of them as Steve finds he can’t quite look away, and it’s not the pain that keeps him. 

Eddie opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again. The frown reappears between his brows and Steve wants to reach out and smoothen the creased skin above his nose. If only moving his arm didn’t require such strength that keeps evading him, the night weighing heavy on his limbs.

After another minute, Eddie does find his words, though they are quiet this time. “I worried.” 

“About what?” Steve asks when he doesn’t continue. 

Eddie resumes his endeavour of washing the crusted blood from his hair and face, the sensation soothing his skin but not his nerves. Steve does reach up this time to still his hand, and the bard meets his eyes again. 

“That you wouldn’t wake up.” It comes out small, void of that usual easy confidence. 

Steve swallows every comment on the tip of his tongue about how the rest of their group could easily keep Eddie entertained without any concussions bothering them. It’s not often that he has control over his tongue, but in the face of such open worry and vulnerability, his heart aches and he wants to say the right thing. 

“I’m awake, Theodore Munson. It takes far more to put me out for good.”

It’s a lie, he knows. It would not have taken that much more, but Eddie doesn’t need to know that. 

“Don’t let them hear that, they will take that as a challenge.” 

Steve only gives a non-committal hum and closes his eyes again. If he didn’t, the darkness of the cell and the kindness in Eddie’s eyes would have made him say stupid things like, Let them, if that means everyone else is safe. That would surely dim the light in those black eyes and very likely make Jim throw a boot at him. And Steve really doesn’t want to have to deal with either of those things. 

Eddie resumes his task of gently cleaning him, and Steve gets the feeling that the bard must be doing it for himself just as much as for him. It’s something to keep himself occupied, and the way he talks betrays his intentions in turn of keeping Steve awake and occupied, too. 

A gesture that is almost too kind to bear, as dusk turns into night and the silver light of the full moon illuminates their cell. 

———

Jim lies just a few feet beside them, and now that his eyes have had the chance to adjust to the darkness properly, the concussion already weaker than it was earlier, Steve can see that his eyes are open. Or, one eye is; the other is swollen too badly. Another wave of guilt and shame clouds his senses for a moment and he has the urge to ask forgiveness. He feels responsible, even though he knows Jim would hit him over the head if Steve so much as mentioned that.

His eyes cut back to Eddie above him when a yawn interrupts the bard’s steady movements with the cloth that is barely wet anymore. 

“You never got any rest, did you?” he asks – stupidly, because the moment the words leave his lips Steve remembers the very reason for Eddie’s wakefulness. He winces before the other man even gets the chance to answer. “Right, my fault. Forgive me.” 

If the ground beneath him could open now, he would have a banquet in its honour. With a groan, he moves to sit up and free Eddie of his dead weight, the motion pulling on his cuts and bruises, irritating his broken and burning ribs in a way so sudden it steals his breath for a second. Steve is well acquainted with pain, but the all-encompassing nature of it right now is thoroughly unwelcome.

Hands come up to steady him, guiding him to sit up and lean against the stone wall, his own shoulder coming to rest against Eddie’s, who only slowly lets go of him. 

“Thank you,” Steve breathes, looking at him out of the corner of his eyes. 

“It’s hardly a question of fault,” Eddie says in that calm, soothing way of his that keeps making Steve want to reach out and hold on. Hold him. “And it was no hardship to stay and… be gentle.” 

Something in the back of his mind wants to tell him something but it’s too foggy to grasp. 

“Gentle,” he says, inquiring, as though saying the word out loud would tell him its meaning. 

“Even Rangers of the Kingdom deserve gentle hands and smiles. Even if they are too badly beaten and concussed to recall their request.” 

Eddie’s words aren’t making sense, but what they do is make his heart beat faster for some reason other than shame and embarrassment. He presses his lips together and tries to find his voice.

When he finds it again, it’s barely more than a whisper hidden in the moonlight. “Allow me to return the favour, then. Rest, Eddie. Find some sleep while I ensure it is safe.” 

Something shifts in those black eyes and Steve wants to chase it. Eddie cast in silver light of the moon is different than the golden figure of the past days. Less imposing and more… fragile. Gone is the teasing, replaced with something more… More. It suits him, the light of the moon, as much as it makes Steve’s heart and mind race. 

“Will you smile at me still?” Eddie asks at last, and even the darkness cannot veil the quiver in his voice. 

Steve is reminded of something he must have dreamed of earlier, but he cannot focus on that, not with the way the moonlight catches in those dark curls that have managed to slip out of the band keeping his hair bound at the back of his skull. Not with the way it illuminates the twitch of his lip or the impossible way he is looking at Steve still. 

“Always,” he says before he can even think about it. Always, he thinks. However long that may yet be.

Another smile twitches and tugs at the bard’s lips, lingering in its nature as he closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall behind them. It can’t be comfortable, and Steve has half a mind to offer his own lap, but there is something about seeing Eddie so calm. He doesn’t dare to interrupt him. 

He waits until Eddie’s breathing has evened out before he gives in to the urge to brush the treacherous curl behind his ear. It leaves his fingertips with a tingling sensation that makes him want to do it again, so he does. Sitting there, trying to breathe through his broken ribs and his fluttering heart, Steve doesn’t dare to do it a third time, as much as he yearns for it. 

He rests his own head against the wall, too, and watches the bard, because watching him is easier than letting his gaze wander and be reminded of the situation they’re all in. 

The moonlight guides his gaze towards Eddie even as he tries to look away, and Steve watches as it caresses the bard’s features in such a way as though that is what it has been sent here to do. 

It makes Steve smile even as the ache in his chest grows stronger. He is starting to realise what this is, and he’s too weak to fight it. Not in this prison cell, not in this foreign country where the sun is out to kill you and the moon will watch you shiver helplessly. 

How could he fight the moonlight and its tender caress, the world tinged in silver as he lets it work its magic on him? Only a fool would be able to resist. 

“Steve.” 

He just barely manages not to flinch as Jim’s rasping voice rips him away from his musing – no, his yearning. Turning his head, he finds his eyes in the dark, though he can’t make out any question or command in them. Has Jim caught him? Does his old mentor know his thoughts regarding the bard, has he seen the twitch in Steve’s fingers as he refused to let them reach out and touch? 

Jim’s silence is as good a command as any, and summoning all his might not to let his face betray the pain shooting through his body, Steve gets up with a suppressed groan and walks over to his old mentor. 

As slowly as possible without giving away the pain that feels like his ribcage is being both torn apart and pressed together, he sits down beside Jim, guiltily thanking the swollen eye and the darkness, for he seems none the wiser to Steve’s injury. 

“Don’t do that again.”

Steve freezes, his thoughts tumbling over themselves trying to figure out what exactly Jim refers to — the guilt still warring inside him insists that there are many things he should not have done. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, feeling like he is but a green student again, getting berated by his mentor after he did something wrong. 

“Take a beating for me. I understand why you would do it for the others, but—” 

“Jim,” he tries to interrupt him with a gentle sigh, but the old man won’t have it. 

“No, Steve. They hate me more than you, we don’t need you riling them up and making things worse for yourself.” 

“I will not let them break your arms and ribs, James. I can take it, I’m—” 

“If you say you’re younger, Steven, I’m going to throw you out of the window..” 

An innocent grin spreads his lips and he inclines his head, meeting Jim’s good eye. “But I am.” 

He sees the hand coming, shooting out from below, but his range of motion and reflexes are still heavily impacted by his injuries that he can’t manage to get out of Jim’s reach in time. Before he knows it, Steve loses his balance and falls flat on his back without any grace but with all the more agonising pain. 

Nobody would have been able to hide broken ribs and a nearly split skull like this, but Steve still mentally kicks himself as the wheezing groan of pain leaves his lips.

All traces of mirth leave Jim’s expression and everything turns into worry as he, too, sits up with a groan to check over his former apprentice. 

“By the Gods, Steve, are you okay?” 

Another groan that is supposed to be somewhere between “Just peachy” and “Fuck off”, but even that sound is pathetic with the way the air has been pushed out of his lungs at the impact. All he manages is a whimper, and he doesn’t try to open his lips for more than that.

He doesn’t even attempt to sit up this time, can only try to catch his breath and breathe through the agony with more wheezing, rattling whimpers. Hands hover over him in the dark, but he shakes his head rapidly, scared that Jim would try to touch and feel the injury, only to find a broken rib or two. Or five, at this point.

His lungs don’t work right and he can’t quite catch his breath. It is only experience that tells him this is normal, this will pass, he will breathe right again. Hopefully. 

“For God’s sake, why would you hide an injury like that, Steve? Why would you… You idiot!”

There is movement around him in the cell, the others waking up from Jim’s anger and worry and guilt, but Steve keeps his eyes closed lest the tears fall. 

“Breathe,” Jim tells him, and Steve finds that to be a wonderful idea, actually, so he tries. And he tries again. “Yes, good. Breathe, Steve. It’s all going to be fine, you’ll get through this.”

“Have to,” he presses, barely any sound to his wheezing. “So you can throw me out of the window.” 

“Fucking moron,” Jim mutters, though Steve can hear the emotion in these two words. It makes him smile despite the situation.

“S–sorry,” he wheezes again, and trusts that Jim understands that he means more than his sarcastic retorts or the hiding of the wounds. Sorry for losing Will again. Sorry for not saving Elanor in time. Sorry for failing the mission. Sorry for being weaker than you need me to be. Sorry for—

“It’s alright, Steve,” Jim promises and there are fingers in his hair again, wetness running down his cheek. Did the fall open his head injury again? The situation must truly be dire if Jim is being outright gentle and worried. “Just don’t do it again. Let me take them next time.” 

He wheezes again, but won’t make that promise. If their captors come back, he knows he won’t sit and watch them hurt his friends, won’t sit and watch them treat Jim the same way they treated him on the journey here. 

It takes a moment for the world to right itself again and for the cell to become quiet, but somehow Steve manages to get his breathing under control and the pain subsides from agonising to miserable, like before. He rolls his head and looks at Jim through a blurriness in his eyes that he has to blink away. 

“You think we’ll make it out of this alive?”

Maybe it’s the pain clouding his mind, maybe it’s the darkness that has always made it easier to ask such questions, but Steve finds the words falling from his lips easier than they should have. 

Jim’s expression that just a moment ago has been filled with worry and anger sobers now, and Steve doesn’t quite like what he sees. 

“Will is still out there,” he says, evading the question and answering it in the same moment. 

“Yeah. He is,” Steve says, not sure if he believes it or not. Not sure if it changes anything. “You’re right.”

They stare at each other for a moment, the moonlight catching Jim’s eyes in a way that highlights the emotions in them. The desperate hope that Will is out there, alive, and reunited with his sister — they have their ways of finding each other against all odds. Always have. Steve likes to believe that they won’t stop now, that a desert can’t keep them apart. That they found friendly faces who won’t betray them, and bring them home. 

Bring them home even when Steve and Jim can’t follow them. And Maxine. Princess Elanor would turn the desert into an ocean before she left Maxine to die. But down in their cell, the ocean would leave them to drown all the same. 

Jim has hope, though, and Steve decides to follow his mentor again. Just for tonight, when all he feels is pain, when his head is being split open, his chest crushed and bursting, his limbs bloodied and bruised. Just for tonight, he will allow himself not to think, not to worry, and to trust Jim blindly like he did all those years ago. 

“Sleep, Steve,” Jim says then, and only now does Steve realise how tired he is, his eyes closed long ago.

He spends a brief moment thinking about Eddie and the promise he made the bard to be there when he wakes up. It’s silly, because he’s merely a few feet away, but it still hurts to have abandoned him to lie there by himself while everyone else has company. When he never moved while Steve himself was asleep.

“You should sleep, too, Ranger.” A sudden wave of warmth washes over him when he hears that voice with its foreign inflections. “You both need your rest, I can stay awake for some time to keep watch and wake you up at the first sign of danger.” 

“Eddie, I really don’t mind—“ 

“I insist, Ranger James. You two have taken the most of their hatred and displays of power, it’s the least I can do.”

Jim seems to hesitate for a moment, but Steve doesn’t open his eyes to look. His lids have become far too heavy, even heavier still when a certain hand is back in his hair to comb through it in even movements, mindful of his wounds. He doesn’t fight the secret smile this time. 

“Well, if you insist, bard,” Jim finally concedes, never one to really pass up an opportunity for sleep. “Good night to you, then.” 

“Goodnight, my friend,” Eddie says in that calm, kind manner of his that is still new to them, and Steve feels as though he breathes easier for it. “And you, Steven,” he lowers his voice, appearing closer now, “truly are a fool.” 

“Oh?” he says, wishing that it wouldn’t hurt to laugh or even just to huff. “What happened to brave, kind-hearted, and whatever else you said earlier?” 

“You can have those back when you stop lying about being injured.” 

“Keep them then,” he says, and it’s meant in jest, but that doesn’t translate well when you barely have enough strength left for a voice, he finds. 

“Sleep,” Eddie repeats, gentler this time, though he sighs long and hard after. “You impossible man.”

It makes Steve smile again, even as an impenetrable darkness wraps around him. 

He’s sure that the hum and the whispered, “I see you’re keeping your promise still,” are figments of his imagination, his tired mind playing tricks on him. But it’s a dream he likes to sink into, filled with moonlit skin, gentle hands, and kind words.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently) and also @ashipwreckcoast and @universal-gay and @marismorar bc you asked me to post the thing (and also b!)

#steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #this isn't really anything but also it's everything to me rn like it's literally what keeps me sane i go about my day and think of them #and all the tenderness and angst in that prison cell #this is a ranger's apprentice inspired au if you will but nobody knows what that is in my experience lmaoo #dio words #sorry tag list gang this aint really a thing you don't have to look at this i'm really just posting this for three (3) people who asked

[incorrect-losers]

Eddie: Did I die?

Bill: Yes

Bev: No

Mike: Little bit

#losers club #it #it chapter 2 #it stephen king #the losers club #losers club incorrect quotes #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #source: power rangers

[franciya]

For real tho, I haven't really stopped to think about it too much before

No shitty live action movie

No shitty cheap 2D or CGI new series that loses the magic of the original style completely

No shitty EEnE 'Babies' or 'Go!'

No shitty hollywood celebrity voices to replace the original ones

Too bad that's such a rare occasion nowadays

#ed edd n eddy #my Twitter's timeline's been celebrating their Anniversary for like 2 weeks now haha #i don't mind too much stuff like Muppet Babies or Baby Looney Tunes or even TTG etc #but the CG on the new Rugrats looks so fucking disgusting #same about the 'pretend 2D' on the Rescue Rangers movie #ew

[fuckin-sick-bih]

I'm Your Rock, Baby. I won't back down.

Fandom: Stranger Things (honestly in my head I was thinking of Tattoo and Florist AU but it's kinky Eddie instead of kinky Steve this time? idk food for thought!) Summary: Steve's been sick and Eddie's been enjoying playing Caretaker. When Steve wakes up from a nap, they watch a movie together and cuddle. CW: cold sneezes, sneezing on partner's neck/shoulder, mention of nose blowing/wiping but really low mess fic for me! Word Count: 1,259 MINORS DNI Author Note: little drabble i did just writing in the tumblr text post thing bc for some reason writing in the tumblr text box makes it easier to write rn? idk, man, don't ask me how my brain works i just live with this traitorous electric meatball

Eddie swayed his hips to the beat of the song as he hand-washed the few items they had that weren't dishwasher safe in the sink, rings sitting on the counter beside him. His phone was softly spitting out one of his current favorites and he was mumbling along, trying to keep quiet so Steve could rest.

Poor Steve had been down for the count the last few days with a nasty cold that had left him utterly exhausted. He scrubbed at the pan he'd made breakfast this morning in as he mulled over the last few days of meds, tissues, sleeping, soup, meds, and more sleeping.

Of course, Eddie was over the moon at getting to take care of Steve. Anytime he got to take care of Steve was a win in his book. His boyfriend was like a walking poster child for hyper independence and Eddie secretly blamed the Harrington parents for that.

Pulling the drain and letting the sink water gurgle down into the abyss, Eddie sighed. He paused his music only to hear sniffling from back in the bedroom. Straining his ears, Eddie swore he heard a catch of breath just before-

"HeNX'T!"

"Don't stifle!" Eddie called out instantly, though his tone was fond as he dried his hands.

As he headed back to the bedroom, Eddie spoke again, "You want a sinus infection? That's how you get a sinus infection." He crossed his arms and admired the sight of Steve sitting up in bed with a tissue folded over his nose.

There was a light blush over Steve's face, skin still lightly tanned from summer. "Sorry. Habit. Snf! What were you doing out there? I thought you fell asleep with me?"

The quiet softness as well as how his voice seemed to grate against his throat, making Steve wince a little had Eddie moving over to the bed to sit with him. "Aw, I'm sorry. I woke up and started cleaning up a little is all. Thought I'd let you sleep as long as you could. Seemed like you needed it. How you feeling now, handsome?"

One of Eddie's hands was coming up to brush Steve's bangs back up out of his face, carding lovingly through his hair as well as pressing to his forehead. "Better than I was, honestly, but I th-hih-! ohh no... heh-ih!"

It was like Eddie's whole world was slowing down as he watched and felt Steve's expression crumple into a pre-sneeze show. His brows rose then collapsed into a pleading sort of pinch while his nostrils flared, mouth hovering open.

"E-ehhddieh-! EhX'TSHH! ID'SHuh! Hh...! ugh d'noh..." Steve collapsed forward, head jerking downward to sneeze towards their laps as his face flushed with color. He was scrambling for a tissue, but Eddie was already plucking and handing him several.

"Bless you, sweetheart, jeez." Eddie leaned forward to kiss Steve's forehead and then the top of his head. "You sure you're feeling better?" He teased, trying not to squirm as Steve blew his nose into the wad of tissues.

A little sniffle came from Steve as he finally pulled the tissues away from his face. "Uh-huh. Just think it's moved to my head. I'm all-" He gestured vaguely to his face and head with a pointed finger and sniffled again. "What's that word you use?"

Eddie made a strangled little sound and rested a hand on Steve's knee. "Stuffy?" He suggested helpfully, praying his boyfriend was searching for a more vanilla term.

"Sure. That." Steve replied with an amused little grin and Eddie knew right then and there that Steve was feeling better if he was getting one of those smiles.

Without warning, Eddie leaned in to press a soft kiss to Steve's lips before pulling back. "Brat." He took a moment to pretend to examine him, going so far as to thoughtfully tap his chin for dramatic effect. "You feel up to watching a movie on the couch with me?"

Steve looked amused at first, but he was quickly looking more and more distracted. "Yeah, I... I think I can manage- that..." His eyes went unfocused as he tried to respond to Eddie's question and Eddie knew pretty quickly what was going on as his eyes flicked to Steve's cherry-red, chapped nostrils that twitched and flared.

"Hiih... IXX'TShhuh!" Steve lurched forward towards their laps again with his powerful sneeze that had tears springing to his eyes. "Ugh, sorry. That might end up happening... more- heh...ihh-hh! ISSHHuh! God, sorry." 

. . .

Twenty minutes later found Steve curled up in Eddie's lap on the couch with Princess Bride playing on their television. Eddie was playing with Steve's hair as his head rested on his shoulder, legs sprawled over his lap.

They were both covered in a blanket and Steve had the box of tissues in his lap, one in his hand which he kept dabbing at his nose with. Eddie was doing his best to pay attention to the movie, but if he was being honest with himself he could quote the whole thing from start to finish just by where in the musical score they were.

So instead he doted softly on Steve who was sleepily watching the movie. Not much energy to do anything else as Eddie pressed soft kisses to his forehead, hair, eyebrows, and even the bridge of his nose once.

Though that had made Steve's eyes well with ticklish tears and his nostrils flared as his breath hitched softly, "E-Ehhddie, that's gonna... huh-! m-make me s-sneeze..."

"Oh, is it?" Eddie practically purred as he lifted a hand to gently tap the pad of his pointer finger against the side of Steve's nose. "Hadn't noticed."

"IHIshhiiew! IXt'Hue!" Steve exploded moments after the tap like that was all he needed to be set off. Eyes watering, bright red nose twitching and shining ever so slightly around the chapped rim. "Ugh, snf! you're a menace, Munson. Absolute snff! menace. Those good for you? Or should I nix the tissues and use you instead?"

A shudder ran through Eddie at Steve's words and he groaned, letting his head tip back. "That's playing dirty, Stevie, and you know it. You can't dirty talk me while you're sick and sneezy." Then came the soft feeling of plump lips traveling over his throat and the subtle brush of a damp nose tip against his Adam's apple.

Eddie would deny at all costs the noise that garnered from him.

It did get Steve to chuckle, though. "Like you tapping my nose isn't playing dirty. You made me sneeze. That- hhh... oh h-hang on... gonna- hihh..."

This time Eddie didn't get to watch Steve's build up, but he could feel it. Every stuttering inhale pressed up against him, the way his fingers curled against Eddie's shirt ever so slightly, and how Steve tucked into his shoulder with a final wavering. "Hihh-ih!" Before finally pressing his face into Eddie's neck and shoulder as he sneezed, "IHHxT'Shuh! Ohh- snf! shit, I forget what I was saying." He admitted, chuckling a little again as he pressed a tissue to his running nose.

Meanwhile, Eddie was getting his heart rate under control and running his fingertips lovingly along Steve's back up and down. "Bless you, pumpkin. Okay, I promise-" And Eddie made a little X over his heart with his free hand. "No more teasing my poor boyfriend's nose unless he asks or he's all better, deal?"

And then Steve gave him a wicked smile. One that only meant one thing. "I never said it was a bad thing, Eds."

#st/ranger th/ings #ed/die mu/nson #st/eve ha/rrington #st/eddie #snz #snz kink #snzfic #cold sneezes #cold fic #i just want cozy kinky eddie and confused and sick but supportive steve who is just sniffly and sneezy and wants nothing more than to nap #but also tease his bf some bc who doesn't love that? #the title is a hint to what song eddie is doing the dishes to if you want fun tattoo artist au eddie lore

[sofiiel]

“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”

#happy halloween 🦇 #eddie munson #eddie munson edit #eddie munson manip #crossover #movie: lotr #show: stranger things #eddie munson in costum #fantasy!eddie munson #ranger!eddie munson #ren faire!eddie munson #ren!eddie #dnd!eddie

[chrysalis-the-butterfly]

Four Headcanons About Jessica Rabbit

(Original post here.)

Headcanon A: Realistic

Jessica has a certain type of laugh that only Roger can cause. It's loud, it's long, and it sounds a bit like a witch's cackle. It doesn't fit her femme fatale persona at all.

Headcanon B: While It May Not Be Realistic, It Is Hilarious

Jessica has a little sister - sort of. Another animator attempted to copy Jessica's design and create his own version of her, but a mistake on the model sheet meant he ended up with a curvaceous redhead who was only six inches tall, not six feet tall. The animator cast her out, and Jessica took her under her wing.

The six-inch toon now goes by Joellyn Krupnick. She's smart, bookish and slightly shy, and she's determined to help make life better for other "fun-size" toons. She works as an architect and landlady, building and renting out apartments and houses that are suitable for smaller toons. (Two of her tenants went on to become the stars of a cartoon called Chip 'n Dale Rescue Rangers.)

Jessica regards Joellyn as her (very) little sister, and the two women get along well.

Headcanon C: Heart-Crushing and Awful, But Fun to Inflict on Friends

Jessica's maiden name was Jessica Joy. She used to work at the Peacock Palace, a theatre located on the outskirts of Toontown and close to the tunnel to the "real world". She was one of many "Peacock Ladies": humanoid toon women who would put on shows for the (usually male human) audience. They wore revealing costumes in different shades of blue with plenty of peacock feathers.

Jessica's owners were two brothers called Rocco and Dominick DeGreasy. They did not treat their Peacock Ladies very well at all. The Ladies didn't just sing and dance; they had to be open to "private appointments" with customers who had paid extra for the privilege. Anything could happen in these appointments, and it was rarely fun for the Ladies. (In fact, the appointments were where Rocco and Dominick made the most money; the nightly shows were just a respectable face to keep the authorities off their backs.)

Jessica was drawn to be submissive and do whatever the humans told her to do. For a long time, she didn't feel strong enough to try to leave the Peacock Palace, convinced that this was her purpose, her reason for existing, and that she had no choice but to fulfill it.

It wasn't until after Roger burst into her life that Jessica slowly but surely built up the courage to change her situation.

As a side-effect of her bad experiences while wearing those blue costumes, Jessica now hates the colour blue. The only shade of blue she can tolerate is the one in Roger's eyes.

Headcanon D: Unrealistic, But I Will Disregard Canon About It Because I Reject Canon Reality and Substitute My Own

The 1970s were a dark decade for the Rabbits. In 1973, Eddie Valiant passed away. In 1978, Maroon Cartoons went out of business. Roger was deeply shaken by both events. He tried to keep the smile on his face, especially as he looked for work elsewhere, but in private he was much gloomier and less inclined to tell jokes.

Jessica wasn't doing too badly in comparison - she'd released some disco albums that kept her and her husband living comfortably - but she felt powerless to do anything about Roger's depressive state. He'd always been the one cheering her up, not the other way around. She tried to stay strong for his sake, but she couldn't deny that Eddie's death and the collapse of Maroon Cartoons made her feel uneasy too. She needed alone time to process everything - alone time that she wasn't getting while she was caring for Roger.

Then she started having dreams.

In Jessica's dream world, the characters had familiar names, but alien behaviours. Roger had darker fur and an even darker heart. Eddie was alive again, but stripped of his old personality. The DeGreasy brothers were back in the picture. And Jessica herself was just as shallow and cruel as everyone believed she was.

These dreams kept coming, night after night, becoming longer and more detailed each time. Jessica wondered if these dreams contained any clues to help her and Roger get out of their funk.

So she wrote the dreams down.

She wrote and rewrote, refining the scenes as more and more visions came to her. Eventually, her scribbles grew to the length of a novel.

And in 1981, she published that novel.

It was called Who Censored Roger Rabbit? and her pen name was Gary K. Wolf.

Some people at Disney took interest in the novel and wanted to turn it into a film. Jessica was glad to be involved, as it meant she and Roger could get back into acting.

But when Roger came onto the project, he had another idea for the direction the film could take. He remembered Eddie as a hero, and he wanted the whole world to remember him as a hero too. He wanted to tell Eddie's story. Jessica approved of this idea, because Roger's face was lighting up just talking about it.

She'd found it. She'd found the key to his happiness returning. In a roundabout way, yes, but she'd found it.

So the decision was made to create a historical film about how Eddie saved Toontown from being Dipped by Judge Doom. The film was called Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and Roger and Jessica played themselves.

It was a hit at the box office, and it kicked off a revival of interest in the classic cartoons. The 1990s were a golden decade for Roger and Jessica, nothing at all like the dark days of the 1970s.

And it was all thanks to Jessica's deeply weird dreams.

#who framed roger rabbit #wfrr #jessica rabbit #roger rabbit #roger rabbit x jessica rabbit #roger x jessica #lucky rabbits #eddie valiant #maroon cartoons #tw prostitution #tw sex work #tw trauma #tw death #tw depression #who censored roger rabbit #who p-p-p-plugged roger rabbit #chip n dale rescue rangers #chip n dale 2022 #chip n dale movie #chip n dale #chip and dale

[jadewritesficshere]

Eddie is the first to admit he isn't athletic. Sure, Eddie has a ton of energy (thanks ADHD) and he may run around and put on a show, but willingly exercise? Eddie would much rather curl up with a book, write a new song, or work on a new campaign than exercise. A shiver goes down his spine, because to him exercise reminds him of PE, which reminds him of getting bullied in high-school. Of course, half of his bullies never even left their small town; meanwhile, Eddie had started to make it big touring around Indiana with his band.

Eddie isn't the most athletic, but after their last show he thought he had some stamina (they had played for TWO whole hours and he had run around the entire time and sang, his voice was shot at the end but he still felt pumped and like he could run a marathon). The only reason he was in the middle of this forest was because their manager was trying to keep them from gaining a bad reputation (you ruin one hotel room in two cities and suddenly you're a terrible person. It wasn't Eddie's fault the stray cat he brought inside when drunk ended up pissing everywhere and scratching the furniture. The first hotel room was absolutely his fault). Their manager glared at them and cursed herself for getting into public relations instead of journalism. She told them to take a hike, which had Eddie chuckling, until she dropped them off at the state park they were currently in. "You are going to complete that trail and think about what you did! I'm going to go and try and salvage this situation," she had said speeding off, leaving them each with a bottle of water and a bag of trail mix along with one map.

Which is why Eddie was now cursing his athleticism, or lack there of. Eddie also believed the trail was cursed, whether before he started cursing it or after he wasn't sure. The trail they were on was deemed "rugged", and they had laughed and thought they could take it. It could connect to other trails, but the one they were going to go on was a simple loop. At first it was fun, an adventure! Jeff was the one with the map, and Gareth was pointing out flowers he knew from working at a florists for a summer. Eddie was imagining himself as Aragorn, walking across Middle Earth. Until they got to a ladder ("Uh why the fuck is there a ladder in the woods?" "Well, according to the map we go down it." "We WHAT?"). It was just a wooden ladder. It seemed pretty sturdy. Eddie, being the brave leader he is, took a step onto the ladder.

And then they climbed down the ladder. It was actually fine, until Gareth slipped on the ladder and got a splinter. Then they somehow lost the map. Then they climbed back up a ladder, which Jeff had slipped on and almost fell off of. This caused Jeff to pull a muscle in his shoulder, which was not good for the band. Eddie had been making jokes about being the accident prone one when his boot slipped in the wet dirt and he fell face first into the trail. Not only was his shirt covered in mud, he had leaves in his hair, but his ankle was stinging something fierce.

Eddie was cursing his lack of athleticism and this trail. He couldn't walk, his ankle was swollen. He had taken his shoe off and was sitting on a rock. Jeff was leaning against a tree, and Gareth was sitting on a log. "Well, we're gonna die out here." Gareth finally said breaking the silence. "Man shut up, we aren't gonna die!" Jeff paused and looked at Eddie," We aren't going to die...right?" "Nah, someone is gonna come along..."

Two hours later, they had eaten all of their trail mix and almost finished their waters. Gareth had offered to go try and find help, but Eddie had scolded him saying you never split up. Sure, he may have learned that from horror movies and not the boy scouts, but surely it still applied? Eddie was laying there, thinking about horror movies, when the sound of a snapping branch scared him. Eddie jumped, cursing and looking towards the sound.

And suddenly, all curses fell out of his mouth. This trail had been hell, and suddenly there was an angel before him. Eddie's eyes slowly raked up the angel's body. Brown hiking boots and cargo shorts that showed off those hairy, muscular legs. There was a belt around a nice waist that was perfect to hold onto. The polo shirt that had a DNR logo on it indicating this was a park ranger. The beautiful pale face that had a smattering of freckles across it. The luscious pink lips he couldn't help but think about kissing. The gorgeous floppy brown hair he wanted to run his fingers through.

Eddie wasn't sure if it was the heat getting to him, or if he was burning up from how hot this ranger was. "You fellas need some help?" The ranger asked. He knelt down next to Eddie and inhaled a sharp breath looking at Eddie's ankle. Eddie also inhaled a sharp breathe as those beautiful brown eyes met his own. "Oh thank God, we thought we were gonna die here!" Eddie heard Gareth's voice, but all he could focus on was the man who was gently touching his ankle. It was painful, but Eddie didn't want to say anything to cause the man to stop touching him (he was so pathetic but he never claimed to be a strong man). "Well, this place wasn't called the Shades of Death for no reason," the man chuckled before noticing everyone's panicked looks," That...that was a joke. I mean yeah it's called that but uh...nevermind."

Eddie no longer was cursing his athleticism and was no longer cursing this trail. If none of this happened, he never would have met this beauty crouching next to him. Eddie was suddenly thanking this trail, the universe, and his manager. "What's your name?" Eddie finally asked. "Huh? Oh, I'm Steve."

#Yall Steve as a park ranger? #CMON #I may or may not be sick and wrote this on a severe whim #I am a little delirious with the lack of sleep so if this makes no sense shhhh #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Stranger Things AU #Park Ranger!Steve Harrington #Rockstar!Eddie Munson #Jade is Talking

[butyoumakemesohot]

hmm maybe 💣🌻 for steddie?

thank you for your request! i also included the 🤧 prompt because i had a few requests to write that one as well - i hope that's okay :) also, this was inspired by my own post hehe

As promised, Steve calls as soon as he and Robin arrive in Nashville during the first day of their summer road trip. It’s a yearly tradition, or so they explained a couple months ago - right around the time Eddie and Steve finally crossed the line between friends and something more. Eddie was quick to assure them he wasn’t the jealous type, and Robin was quick to assure him that she was, in fact, 100% gay. 

It was a revelatory week, to say the least.

“Munson residence,” he now quips as he picks up the phone, twisting the cord around his finger. His ears pick up on the muffled sounds of city traffic and what must be the static of the TV in Steve and Robin’s hotel room.

“Eds, hey,” a garbled voice greets, followed by a small string of congested coughs.

Eddie freezes. “... Steve?”

“Yeah?” he asks, confused. A couple more coughs, then the younger man clears his throat, his voice emerging a tiny bit smoother than it was before. He still sounds awfully stuffed up, though. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, just… didn’t recognize your voice at first,” Eddie admits, listening to Steve breathe through his mouth into the receiver. After a few seconds, he cuts himself off with a sniffle so congested that Eddie’s chest tightens in realization. “Still feeling a bit hayfeverish, are we?”

“It’s dot so bad,” Steve insists. He sniffles again, and Eddie swears he can hear the other man’s sinuses squeaking in protest, as if no matter how hard he tries, no amount of air is able to pass through them. “Just deed to get - hH-! … ohhh… snnff! Sorry, mby dose is… hheh, snrf! really itchy.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Eddie says gently.

“Adyways, I just deed sobe mbedicide, thed I’ll be good. Robid a’d I are about to head to the store, but I just wadted to – hHH’SSCHHHIEW!”

He’s interrupted once more, this time by an abrupt sneeze that rattles loudly in Eddie’s ear. He tries not to wince, not wanting Steve to hear it in his voice. 

“Gesundheit,” he says lightly, keeping the phone a couple inches away from his ear in case Steve surprises him again.

“Thhhhank you,” Steve replies, his breathing soft and shallow. Eddie waits, knowing that his boyfriend is gearing up for another sneeze or two. “Fuck, sorry, h-hang od - ahh-! AAESSCHHOO! ESSCHHHH’uhh… hh’snnnnf! SNF!”

Steve manages to move away from the phone this time, but Eddie can still hear how monstrous the sneezes are despite his boyfriend's best attempts to muffle them into what Eddie assumes is the collar of his shirt.

“Goodness,” he says once it seems like Steve has caught his breath. “Bless you, Stevie.”

“God,” Steve mumbles in complaint, sucking in another hard, squeaking sniffle. “Sorry. Doe mbatter what I do, I cad’t - snrf! - cad’t stop sdeezi’g.”

He pinches and rubs at the ever-present itch that’s buzzing around in his nostrils, emitting a wet, squishing sound into the receiver. Eddie’s chest aches again.

“The medicine will help,” he promises, feeling utterly helpless against Steve’s allergies and the miles of distance between them. “I thought you packed some, though? I could’ve sworn I saw it sitting on the counter this morning...”

“... I forgot,” Steve admits, letting out a sharp, sudden gasp as he moves away from the phone again. “ahH’ASCHHHHhiew! ‘TSSCHHHH! … Guhhh... snnrf, snngk!” He sniffles thickly, rubbing his nose a bit more desperately this time. His voice sounds far away when he speaks again, and Eddie realizes he must’ve set the phone down in his lap. “Robs, could you pass mbe the - snF! - the tissue box?”

Eddie hears a hard click as Steve moves the phone to the table, accompanied by the sound of Robin’s voice. She’s too far for him to make out what she’s saying, but whatever it is must be funny, because Steve’s response is another enormous sneeze immediately followed by a laugh. He blows his nose before picking up the phone, still sounding miserably congested.

“Hey,” he says, panting slightly. “Sorry about that.”

“You know that’s the third time you’ve apologized since we started talking?”

Steve pauses. “I… kind of wadt to say it agaid.”

“Don’t you dare,” Eddie says with a chuckle, shifting the phone to his other ear. “Buckley cracking jokes over there?”

“Huh? snnnfg! … Oh, yeah, she, ub - sNf! - she said mby sdeezi’g is goi’g to rupture both of your eardrumbs by the tibe allergy seasod is over.”

Eddie laughs again. “That is if it doesn’t rupture yours first.”

“Ha,” Steve deadpans. “Shit, h-hhhhang od - AHH’SSCHHIEEW! … hh! hihHH! GGKTSSCHHhh! Oh, mbad… sngk! That ode kinda hurt...”

“Sounded like it,” Eddie says, pouting sympathetically. Steve sighs, sounding so run down that Eddie wishes he could eradicate all the pollen in the universe.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s cut off by a stuttering gasp as Steve succumbs to another dreadful itch in his sinuses. The sneezes are even louder this time, scraping painfully against his throat. Eddie moves the phone even further away from his ear.

“HH’EESSCHHHH! snrrf! ehhhh… EHH'SSCHHHOO! sNNf, snrrk! Jesus…”

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, pressing the phone all the way against his ear so that his soothing voice carries properly through the receiver. “Allergies are a bitch. I’m sorry, honey.”

“The bitchiest,” comes Steve’s gruff response.

The longer haired man scoffs, hearing a faint scraping of cardboard as Steve pulls out a few more tissues. He waits patiently as the younger man blows his nose, seemingly too tired to move the phone to the table this time. Eventually, the drenched, gurgling blows start to taper off, and Steve lifts the phone back up to his ear, sounding absolutely exhausted.

“Better?” Eddie asks softly.

“Mm… kind of. snngk!”

Eddie smiles, shifting the phone to his other ear. “Hey. What did you want to do?”

“Hm?”

“You were saying how you and Robin were about to go to the store, but you wanted to do something first.”

“Oh,” Steve says, clearing some more congestion from his throat. He audibly rubs at his nose again, sniffling. “I, uh… wadted to hear your voice, ‘s all.”

Does he sound… embarrassed? No way. Eddie bites his lip to keep from grinning too hard, making a mental note to check in with Robin later and ask if she saw Steve blushing at any point during their conversation.

“You did?” Eddie finds himself asking.

“Of course,” Steve says genuinely. Like he can’t believe anyone would think otherwise. 

Shit. Now Eddie’s blushing, too.

“I… I missed hearin’ yours, too,” the longer haired man says eventually, nearly cringing over the cheesiness of it all. 

He half expects Steve to tease him over it, which is why he lets out a breath of relief when Steve’s response is accompanied by a wide smile in his voice. “You wod’t mind if I - snrrk! - call you agaid later todight, thed?”

Eddie laughs softly, hoping he doesn’t sound too giddy. “I think I can probably pencil you in, babe. Now, why don’t you go take a shower, see if you can wash some of that crummy Indiana pollen off? I bet Robin won’t mind going to the store by herself. They probably even have some medicine down in the hotel lobby.”

“Yeah, okay… L-Let me just, ohh, snNF! AH-! AAEEESSCHHHOO!”

Eddie does wince this time, the deafening sneeze still ringing in his ear even as he lowers the phone. He shifts the speaker to his other ear again, just in time to hear a rough scratch and a brief, muffled exchange between Steve and Robin.

“Sorry about that,” comes Robin’s voice, a shining display of health in comparison to Steve’s. “Dingus will be right back. I’m afraid he’s currently incapacitated.”

“What, did that last sneeze rupture his spleen or something?” Eddie jokes, although they both know it’s not completely out of the question.

Before Robin can reply, Steve bursts into another fit of sneezes. Although it sounds like he’s now on the other side of the room, they’re loud enough that Eddie can hear every syllable, every frenzied, hitching breath that comes in between them.

“hHH’TSSCHHHHIEW! Oh mby fucki’g Gohhh- AHH’SSCHHHH’uhh! -ESSCHHh!” The sound of another extremely wet nose blow filters through the phone, followed by even more robust sneezing that makes Eddie start to feel bad for the people in the room next door.

Robin’s amusement is evident in her voice. “No, but those surely did.”

#is anyone even online..... probably not slfjslkfj #st/ranger th/ings #st/eddie #sh #snzblr #snz kink #snz fic #sneezefic #snzfucker #sneeze kink

[ranger-rai]

Sturdy for the ask game?

Someone gave me Steadfast which makes sense.

I'd actually argue Eddie or Jo fits that ability much more, Eddie is pretty durable and deals with a lot of heavy hitting types while Jo just seems to have energy.

Not necessarily a lot of energy, but I've seen her go for like 3 days on just coffee, a banana, and spite. It's not healthy, but it is impressive.

#ranger rai #pokemon ranger #the ranger base #pokemon #ask me anything #ask me a question #ranger eddie #boss jo #ask meme

[faebirdie]

just had the sudden thought of eddie falling in love with a soft™️ girl who joins his campaign but the hellfire club shirt always clashes with her cute little outfits so he has one custom made for her where everything is the same except the lettering is pastel instead of black and the demon is wearing a flower crown

#she mains druids and rangers #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things

[hargrovesswifee]

Everyone: Dacre Montgomery

#dacre montgomery #billy hargrove #jason lee scott #power rangers #stranger things #a greek god #how can he be so beautiful #he’s so babygirl #Billy Hargrove but make him sweet #season 3 #foaming at the fucking mouth #steve harrington #eddie munson #joe quinn #joe keery

[mr-dusk14]

#ed edd n eddy #texts from last night #double d #eddy #rolf #jonny 2x4 #jimmy #ed #cult #urban rangers #scout troops are sort of like a cult

[dogt-eeth]

The important thing abt detective characters is that they always need to be unusual and off-putting and kind of unprofessional and even a little bit perverted or weird or obsessive to an unhealthy degree. But by God they can NOT be just some polite guy.

#voice of guy having so much fun watching columbo and detco and hannibal and reading sherlock holmes #and ig sam and max count too. not exactly detectives but close enough #and chip from chip and dale rescue rangers #and darkwing duck from. darkwing duck #and batman ig?? #anyways #and team chaotix from sonic and eddie from wfrr

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Tattoos and Tissues pt 3!

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: No Upside Down. Tattoo Artist and Florist AU. Eddie goes to Steve's place to take care of his florist boyfriend who has fallen ill. CW: Mess, inducing, stuffy talk, illness, mentions of erections and adult themes/kink, Steve has the kink and Eddie likes indulging Word Count: 4.3k Author Note: I did it! I finished it! I finished a fic! Holy fuck! No one ever let me do this again... I am absolutely going to do this to myself again no questions, I just suck at pacing myself lmao. Honestly, the first draft was WAY more Adult lol But also I don't want this to be the end of this AU. I just don't wanna do another 3-part fic, I wanna do little mini fics or drabbles if ideas happen tbh. Regardless, enjoy. I am aware not all things resolve, but hey that's why it can be something cute and small and on-going, right? Eddie - bold Steve - Italics MINORS DNI

whats your address?

What? Why?

because i come baring gifts, Harrington. address, please, so i can figure out where the hell im going im so lost

413 Building D Maple Glen Apartments just off Terrace Street. I’ll buzz you in, just come up to the fourth floor, and I’ll be poking my head out.

When Eddie showed up at Building D of Maple Glen Apartments and saw he had four flights of stairs to climb, he decided he was going to strangle Steve instead of nurse him back to health. He adjusted the bags of goodies for Steve in his hands and began the climb up to the fourth floor. The top floor, of course. 

As he reached the top and exited the stairwell, he spotted Steve poking his head into the hallway as promised. Sure, Eddie was panting, but Steve looked wrecked. There were dark circles under his eyes, his nose was bright cherry red at the tip and rims, and the rest of his face was pale. 

“Jesus H. Christ, you weren’t kidding… You really are sick, huh?” Eddie said in a soft, somewhat concerned tone as he approached Steve.

The other’s pale cheeks seemed to flush up a dark shade of red at Eddie’s words. “What id the world are you doi’g here, Eddie?” Steve asked in a congested and raspy voice that made Eddie wince in sympathy for his throat. 

Instantly, Eddie went digging in his bags for the bag of cough drops. “Please suck on one of those, Harrington. Talking sounds like it hurts. And they’ve got menthol-y stuff in ‘em. It’ll help your nose, c’mon lemme in.” He shoulders his way into Steve’s apartment before the other can stop him. 

“Eddie!” Steve rasped out before turning away from the other to cough harshly into his arm. “You dod’t wadt to be id here, you’ll get s-siiih… IXXGH’T! Sick.” There had been just enough time for Steve’s hand to shoot up and pinch his nose to stifle what sounded like a powerful and still just barely restrained sneeze. It made Eddie wince to think how it must have hurt his ears. 

There was a scoff from the curly-haired tattoo artist, who was already unpacking his bag of goodies on the nearby countertop. At the same time, Steve shut the door, not protesting anymore. “Bless you and puhhh-lease. I don’t get sick, Steve. Munson Constitution. Allergies? Yes. Sick? No. I can’t even remember the last time I was sick. Wait-” He frowned as he tried to dig up the memory. “I think it was like 8th grade? And I had the flu? I dunno; Uncle Wayne came home to me curled up asleep in the empty tub with a fever. He couldn’t find me for like twenty minutes.” 

There was a mildly concerned but still somewhat fond smile on Steve’s face. “You’re a bess, Budsod.” He sniffled thickly and grabbed a tissue from the box beside the couch where it looked like Steve had taken up residence. A nest of blankets, a pillow from his bed, crumpled tissues surrounding the nest, and a few empty water bottles. “But seriously, you should go. Robid high-tailed it out of here to Dadcy’s the seco’d she heard I was sick.”

“All the more reason for me to stay!” Eddie chirped, stepping back to show Steve the menagerie of sick supplies he’d brought. “Not that you need a babysitter, and if you seriously wanna be left alone to your misery, I get it, but…” He side-stepped a little closer to bump their shoulders together. “I never liked being alone while sick.” He admits softly.

The little bump made Steve’s lips twitch, and Eddie counted it as a win. Then Steve moved forward to have a look at the supplies. “Jesus, you didd’t have to get b’me all this…”

Eddie pats Steve on the back as he moved with him, eyes scanning over the cold/flu meds, a couple cans of chicken noodle soup, some bottles of Gatorade, the cough drops he’d mentioned earlier, and even- “Those fucking dissolvable shower disks are evil, Harrington. That’s your treat if you’re a good boy and take your meds, deal?” He said with a smirk growing on his face now.

A sputtering noise from Steve turned into a coughing fit almost right away, bad enough that Eddie was rubbing his back through the end of it. “W-What the hell does that bead?” He choked out, eyes wide. “If they’re evil thed, why did you bri’g theb?”

A laugh escaped Eddie, who was now taking Steve’s hands to guide him back to the couch, settling the sick man down to wrap him back up in blankets. “Because they work and because you will probably love it.” He said playfully and hesitated momentarily, trying not to overthink it before pressing his lips to Steve’s forehead. “Not warm.” He whispered softly.

Steve let out an almost shuddering-sounding sigh like he was just happy to be touched. To be taken care of for once. They’d only started getting to know each other but had been texting a bit. With all those teens he babysat, Eddie could believe it. Between work, babysitting, and probably taking care of things at the apartment with his roommate… when did Steve get time to care for himself? No wonder he got sick, Eddie thought. 

“What do you say to some daytime cold meds, a cough drop, some Gatorade, and I’ll heat you up a can of soup in a bit?” Eddie asked Steve softly, running his fingers delicately through the other man’s messy bedhead. It was as if Steve was a cat, utterly leaning into the touch despite how sick he must feel with how he looked. 

There was a nod from Steve, so Eddie took that to mean go ahead with his plan. “Kinda glad to see you keep work at work.” He admits to Steve in a casually playful way while grabbing Steve a Gatorade and some pills. “Would’ve sucked if we were both sneezing our heads off- bless you, by the way.”

As Eddie spoke, Steve’s face had been going slowly slacker, and his eyes were unfocused in a classic pre-sneeze hang-up. “Ixx’TSH! IXGh’t! Oh god… I’b dot godda be able to stifle those buch lo’ger…” Steve mutters with a much soupier-sounding sniffle than Eddie expected for some pretty well-stifled sneezes. 

Nevertheless, Eddie pulled his bandana from his back pocket and swatted Steve with it before offering it out to him. “Here. Stop stifling then, jackass. Didn’t see me stifling for you, hm?” He pointed out, handed over the meds and drink, and gestured to the cough drops. “Try one. It’ll feel good on your throat and help your congestion.” 

Steve caught the bandana and gave Eddie an appreciative smile for the soft fabric against his nose. “Ugh, fide if it gets you to shut up.” He teased, punctuated by a weak cough after downing the meds. Then he grabs a menthol lozenge. After popping it into his mouth, Steve’s eyebrows raise. “I was expecti’g that to taste worse… cad defiditely still taste the bedthol…” He admits with a slight sniffle.

“Sorry… what were you sayi’g earlier?” Steve asked with another little sniffle as he settled on the couch, pressing the bandana to his nose some more. There’s the slightest flush that wasn’t there a little bit ago. Eddie would’ve remembered if it had been there or not. It’s too cute, barely spreading over his cheekbones and nose tip. 

Eddie was knocked out of his daydreaming by remembering he had to answer Steve. “Huh? Oh- thanking you for your lack of plants. That’s all.” He jokes and shakes his head. “It’s stupid, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to get a break from being the sneezy one.” He teased.

A quiet, albeit raspy, chuckle escapes Steve while he sucks on the lozenge. “Ab I givi’g you a rud for you b-buhh…bodey yet? Or do I deed to snff let byself sdeeze bore for that?” With all the stopping to sniffle and how his nose seemed to be tickling, Eddie got the idea the menthol in the lozenge was working on Steve’s sinuses. 

“Well, I think you’re doomed to sneeze more soon either way, big boy.” Eddie teased as he watched the other man’s expression fall again into that pre-sneeze desperation. 

Still, Steve seemed to want to deny himself release. “D-D’noh idea… w-whhaahat you bead, Eds-” His breath was beginning to hitch dangerously now, coming closer and closer to its inevitable crescendo. 

Eddie took Steve’s hands, “Don’t stifle, Steve… just sneeze. It’s okay.” He urged the other, getting the feeling it was far more than just a matter of Steve not wanting to spread germs. Like he was still embarrassed and shy.

“Oh, okaaehh-! AeISHHue! HeiiISHhuh! Ngh- Ugh… Oh fuck. Still tickles.” Steve admits, scrunching and wriggling his nose in all sorts of ways Eddie found altogether too damn endearing. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and dropped down onto the couch with Steve. “Come here, sniffles.” And he can plainly see that has an effect on Steve from where he sits now. Steve’s breath catches, and there’s the slightest tent to the front of his Hawkins High Swim Team gray sweatpants. Whoever designed those pants for the swim team, Eddie could kiss them. “Oh, you like that?” He purred.

A shaky sort of breath left Steve, but Eddie wasn’t quite sure if it was from being teased or still needing to sneeze. Though Steve moved a bit closer, his eyes were watering a little now with the irritation that wouldn’t budge. “O-oh god, cobe o-ohhhih-!” Even with as desperate of a hitch as it sounded, Steve still faltered into sniffles and groaned. 

The curly-haired man looked at Steve with an exceptionally soft pout, one of distinct sympathy. “You want some help with that? Seriously, that looks like torture.” He tilted his head when Steve sniffled, and his eyes widened at Eddie’s offer. 

“I’b sorry, what’d you just ask, b’me?” Steve asked, like he wasn’t sure if he was hearing correctly. He was still rubbing his nose against the cuff of his hoodie; Eddie wasn’t sure if he was encouraging or fighting off the tickle anymore. 

Eddie raised a brow at Steve in confusion, “Do you need help with that stuck sneeze? You’re starting to look more miserable than me peak allergy season, Stevie.” He teased, watching as the other continued staring at him like a deer in headlights until it clicked for Eddie, and he had his lightbulb moment. “Wait! Does that turn you on?” He asked, sounding utterly delighted to have figured out how to get Steve going to the point where he was nearly speechless.

Instantly, Steve was sputtering, and it caused a few coughs to escape him. “Oh by god, you cad’t just say thi’gs like that to b’me, Eds…” He complained, leaning back against the couch to tip his head back while rubbing at his nose some more. “Fuck… ugh, bay- maehh… hehih-!” And once again, Eddie watched him wind up, only for nothing to happen. 

“Sooo…?” Eddie prompted and gave a vague wave of his hand as if gesturing Steve to continue. 

It was truly remarkable how red Steve’s face could flush, Eddie thought as he watched the lighter brunette make the internal debate. “Fide. Jesus, we practically flirt all the tibe adyway.” He reached forward to snatch a tissue, twisting the corner into a point.

Eddie’s brows furrowed as he watched in utter confusion while Steve strangled the tissue. “Okay, I gotta ask… what the fuck are you doing?” 

“I’b- ihhih… ugh, I’b baki’g sobethi’g for you to i’duce b’me.” He explained before handing the tissue, now twisted to a neatly pointed tip, over to Eddie. “Probably wod’t get bore thad ode use out of it because I’b all coldish, but iihh-! it should do the trick.”

After accepting the new tool, Eddie turned to face Steve more as he started to get the idea. “Ohh, I think I get it. Okay. Never actually thought to use a tissue like this, honestly.” He admits before smirking a little. This was Steve’s kink, and well… he wanted to perform for him a little. Make it fun for him. 

He trails the very tip of the twisted-up tissue end over the tip of Steve’s red nose and watches as his nostrils flare in response to even just that. “Jesus, someone’s sensitive.” It was just a stray comment. Sometimes, Eddie couldn’t keep his mouth shut, but judging by how Steve’s hips suddenly squirmed, he really enjoyed it. 

A grin split across Eddie’s face, and he suddenly moved to straddle Steve’s lap, “Think I need a better position for this, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked teasingly and winked at his boyfriend, who was now bright red as he looked up at him. Eddie eased down to sit more in Steve’s lap, which caused the other man to groan softly. 

“Sure, E-Eddie…” Steve stuttered out, but this time, it clearly had nothing to do with his sensitive nostrils that Eddie was already getting back to teasing. “You cad go i-ihhh idside…” 

That made the darker-haired man raise his brows in mild surprise, but he nodded, gently slipping the tip of the tissue into Steve’s nose. He gently twirled the tissue curiously, which had Steve instantly gasping beneath him, and Eddie’s dick twitched at just how powerful he felt for a brief moment.

The twirl seemed to do the trick because Steve’s nostrils flared out, and his eyes fluttered closed with another desperate, hitching breath. Eddie’s hand shot back with the tissue still clutched between his fingers, the twisted tip now all damp and limp despite its short adventure. 

“Ihh… IXXTISHHUE!! HEIIISHUE! Uh… Hupt’IISHHuh… ugh oh by god…” Steve groaned out after the sneezes. The first two burst forth with a sudden intensity Eddie hadn’t been expecting at all. The lighter-haired brunette hastily grabbed a tissue to press to his face, cleaning himself up while a blush spread across his neck and cheeks. “Fuck that’s so e’barassi’g.” He whispered, but Eddie could feel Steve’s erection pressing firmly against him. 

The ease with which Eddie could get Steve so hard he was pressing up against him like that even while he was under the weather was borderline intoxicating. It didn’t matter that Steve had snapped right forward to sneeze, the spray misting briefly against Eddie’s forearm and stomach.

“Bless you, hey… it’s alright. You’re sick; gotta get that gunk outta you. Maybe a shower with one of those disks would be a good idea, actually… clear out some of that congestion, huh?” He offered and grabbed Steve another tissue to replace the one he’d just about soaked through by now.

Little, congested snuffles were coming from Steve constantly as Eddie sat back in his lap to let him tend to his leaking nose. “Baybe…” Steve relented a little, still seeming shy, and wiped away the tears at the edges of his eyes from sneezing. His sinuses were so utterly full it was hard not to tear up with every sneeze. “What uh… what exactly do they eved do? Dever really tried theb before.”

At that, Eddie perked up and grinned at Steve before moving out of his lap. “Oh, you’re gonna love this- c’mon, sniffles. Let’s get you in the nice warm shower with one of those disks then.” He slid backward off of Steve’s lap carefully. He offered his hands to pull him up, ensuring Steve was steady on his feet before grabbing one of said shower disks and being led to the bathroom. 

The bathroom was admittedly a little small for two people. Eddie wasn’t sure how Steve and his roommate managed it, but he went about getting the disk out of the packaging. Of course, the moment the menthol scent hit him, his eyes watered, and his nose prickled, making him pause to rub roughly at it with his hand.

A sudden hand on his arm made him pause, blinking over at Steve, who was looking at him with a concerned expression. “I cad oped it?” He offers softly, but Eddie takes a moment to look at him. Steve looks exhausted and sick, sure, but his pupils are wide and lust-blown. That hard-on from the couch is still half-present and painfully evident in those gray sweatpants, too.

“I got it, sweethhheart.” Eddie assures, wiggling the disk as his own breath tries to hitch, and he lets it for once. In fact, Eddie sniffs slightly, which only irritates his sensitive nose more, so his nostrils twitch and flare. “Told you… you’ll l-love.. thhhh… hEXZT’Shiew! Whew! Okay. You’ll love these.” And without another moment to waste, Eddie sets the little disk in the shower for Steve with a wink. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Finally, Eddie sees Steve’s unfiltered reaction to one of his sneezes, similar to in the library. It was as if the poor man had completely bluescreened briefly before rebooting. Pupils wide and lust blown as he stared at Eddie, who still rubbed his nose. “Uh… yeah, so just… shower like dorbal?” he asked with another soupy sniffle and began to pull off his shirt, already starting to shiver.

Suddenly, Eddie’s throat felt dry as Steve began undressing with him in the bathroom, and he nodded. “Yep. That’s the idea. It’ll dissolve, and the scent will help clear out your sinuses. Want me to go sit on the couch and wait?” 

With his pants still on, Steve was reaching forward to crank the water as hot as it would go, still sniffling. “Uhm… ki’da… ki’da dizzy actually? Could you baybe like… keep close? Id case I deed you?” There was a quiet plea in Steve’s voice, the request coming out awkward and stunted like he wasn’t used to asking for help. 

Something in it tugged on Eddie’s shriveled heart, and he looked up at Steve with a soft expression. “Yeah, Stevie. I can stay. I’ll turn around so you can strip and get in, deal? Deal.” He agreed, tucking himself into the corner by the sink to stare at the wall. There was a good deal of shuffling behind him before he heard the shower curtain and the spray of water finally being interrupted. 

The menthol scent from the shower disk was already making Eddie’s nose twitch and tingle, so he closed the toilet seat lid, going to sit down on it. “Remember what I said earlier? We’re trying to get that gunk out of you, man. Trust me when I say I’m not gonna judge you or anything. Seriously, I’m sure you’ll get to see me peak allergy s-seeh-season, and you’ll get it.”

His idle chatter as Steve showered made the man give a quiet grunt. “You sure?” Steve’s voice was tired, nervous, and still congested, but it already sounded a little better than before. 

“P-Positiihh-“ But just as Eddie had been about to respond, his breath hitched dangerously, and his hand flung up to cover his mouth and nose. “IXT’SHiew! Ugh, positive! Sorry, sensitive nose.” Eddie admitted with a little sniffle and scrunched his nose up to try and dispel that tingling sort of itch. It wasn’t like his usual allergic itch, just maddening enough to make his sinuses wonder what was in the air to react to. “Hit’SHZiew! Snf! Motherfucker. It’s supposed to make you sneeze, not me!” 

A laugh escaped Steve, turning into some productive-sounding coughs that had Eddie grimacing in sympathy. “Give m’be a m’bidute, dod’t worry.” He assured, sniffling a little as the shower disk worked its magic while he went through his usual shower routine. 

It was barely a minute later when the bathroom had gone oddly quiet. “Heh… Gonna- HEIKTshuh! HI’TShue! Eh… ET’SHHue! HN’kt!” The last one sounded strange, and Eddie blinked a few times, wondering what in the hell Steve had done to make it sound like that. 

“You good, man?” Eddie checked in softly, almost tempted to peek over the shower curtain just to make sure he wasn’t going to pass out or anything.

A shaky breath left Steve, and Eddie saw one of his hands come up to grab the shower curtain rod for support. “Uh-huh… snff! Yeah, just-” Another little groan came from the lighter brunette, and Eddie felt worry fluttering in his ribcage like a frightened bird. “Dizzy… m’okay. Rad out of breath od that last sdeeze…” 

Something like a little cough slipped out of Steve, and Eddie stood to put a hand on top of Steve’s that had a white knuckle grip on the shower curtain rod. “Maybe it’s time to rinse off and get out, yeah? I’ll get your towel and look away so you can hop out.” He encouraged, already moving, to grab the fluffy maroon towel and hold it open. 

Only a few moments later, Steve sounded like he’d rinsed off, but then there was a soft catch of breath just above the spray before- “HeXT’SHHuh! EXT’SHHUE! Hihh… IXT’SHHuh IT’SHH! Oh by god…” If anything, Steve’s tone sounded exasperated, but the sneezes had sounded productive. “You were right. About the shower disk.” He groaned, and Eddie could hear the shower spray being disrupted again, making him smile a little before the water shut off.

“You’re kind of adorable when you’re sick, y’know that?” Eddie said as he shut his eyes, turning his face as he held out the towel for Steve. “I mean- you’re adorable in general, don’t get me wrong! But like… I dunno, man. I know you can take care of yourself, but I just wanna make sure you’re looked after.” 

There was another brief pause, and the continued silence as he felt Steve press into the towel had Eddie’s anxiety spiking. He wrapped the towel around the other’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze there. As the silence dragged on, Eddie felt a need to fill it, “Sorry, is that weird? I don’t wanna like- infantilize you or anything. I just… I wanna drag you to bed, wrap you in blankets, get you whatever you need until you feel better, y’know?”

“Would you lay with me?” Steve asked suddenly, voice right in front of him, and it shocked Eddie so much that his eyes snapped open. 

In front of him stood Steve. Hair dripping wet still, the towel now around his waist, and droplets of water running down his sinfully pretty chest. A more perverse part of Eddie had the intrusive thought of licking the water off him. Steve still had dark circles under his eyes, but those eyes were bright and pleading. “Of course I will, Stevie. We can get comfy and lay together as long as you want.”

Visibly, Steve’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded with an almost pleading expression, pulling at his brows and lips. “Yes, please? That sounds- snf! fantastic.” He lifted a towel corner to dab at his sensitive, red nostrils with a bit of a wince. “Ugh, ow.”

With a little purse of his lips, Eddie made a sympathetic noise. “Nose all raw?” he asked, reaching out to open the bathroom door so Steve could lead the way to his bedroom. “I didn’t think to get any Vaseline; sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’okay. This always happens when I get si-ihh…. Ihih-!” Halfway down the short hallway, Steve paused with one hand on the wall as his breath began to hitch and his eyes fluttered. “Oh no come o-ohhhhh-!” Eddie watched as Steve’s hand hovered in front of his face, expression utterly helpless and slack before suddenly exploding. “IX’TSH! HiISHHue! Snf! Ugh- sorry.”

A little chuckle came from Eddie, who just shook his head, “I am the last one you have to go apologizing to for sneezing.” He assured Steve and put a hand on his lower back as he followed him. 

It didn’t take long for Steve to be dressed in some boxers and a sweatshirt since he was cold after his shower. Without even thinking about it, Eddie began pulling off his shirt and sat down on the bed to take off his shoes. The sudden sensation of fingers against his back made Eddie jump a little, and his head whipped around to find Steve tracing the dice tattoos along his spine. 

“Like what you see, Harrington?” Eddie asked in amusement as he finally kicked off his shoes to lie down beside Steve. He wiggled out of his dark pants, which got tossed to the floor as well, leaving him in boxers. Most of his upper half was covered in tattoos at this point. 

Some kind of sleepy slight hum came out of Steve, slightly congested again but not enough to hamper his speech yet. “They’re pretty. Your tattoos. Did you do them yourself?” He asked curiously, and his hand now strayed curiously over the large moth just below Eddie’s sternum. 

Eddie adjusted himself to get the blankets wrapped around them both, making sure Steve was tucked in properly before tossing the blankets over his legs. “Some smaller ones, yeah. Because I’m an idiot. Don’t tattoo yourself, Stevie. I mean it.” There’s amusement and a warning, but he leans to press his lips to Steve’s forehead again. Both checking his temperature and enjoying the simple intimacy. “Chrissy did a lot of them. Gareth, one or two, actually.”

This time, the hum from Steve was more distant, and when Eddie looked, he saw the other man was nearly asleep, tucked against him. “Get some rest, sleeping beauty. You need it. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Taking a deep, slow breath, Steve let out a long and decidedly sleepy sigh through his mouth. His nose was still a little too congested for such things. “Promise? You won’t leave?”

Something physically hurt inside Eddie to think once upon a time; Steve might’ve been in a similar spot, vulnerable and left completely alone when he didn’t want to be. “I’ll be here. I promise.” Eddie moved his hand to find one of Steve’s, interlocking their pinkies so he could squeeze the other man’s tight before bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. “I’m here, Steve.”

The reassurance was all he needed. Steve was out like a light, soft little congested snores sounding against Eddie’s shoulder as they cuddled beneath the blankets in the cozy queen-sized bed. And really… Eddie couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. 

#ed/die mu/nson #st/eve ha/rrington #st/eddie #st/ranger th/ings #snzblr #snz #snzfic #bex's snz writing #snzfucker #tattoos and tissues #tw mess #tw inducing