Tumgik
#steve serious
spilladabalia · 5 months
Text
Blaggers ITA
youtube
live circa 1990-91, 2 songs
1 note · View note
zephyrchama · 5 months
Text
Since demons don't have middle or last names, an angry MC resorts to using their titles when they're really mad.
"Did you seriously just turn the router off? After I've been refreshing this page all day? Lucifer, Avatar of Pride, turn it back on now."
"It seems somebody swapped my homework with blank pages. Mammon, Avatar of Greed, do you have anything to say about this?"
"It's 3am. Leviathan, Avatar of Envy, you need to turn that concert DVD off right now and go to bed or I'm snapping it in half."
"Satan, Avatar of Wrath. This is the third time today I've stubbed my toe on one of your cursed books."
"Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust. You're a doll. But it has been seven hours. I can't try on any more clothes. I'm exhausted."
"I know my name was on this cup of expensive ice cream. Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony, how are you going to make this up to me?"
"So help me, Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth, if you're late for class again, I'm the one who gets an earful of complaints. You're leaving this house right now."
3K notes · View notes
lazylittledragon · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
sillies from twitter
5K notes · View notes
strangersatellites · 4 months
Text
frat steve has taken steddie twitter by storm so have this
eddie’s dragging his feet in his boots, humming under his breath while he unsuccessfully flicks the lighter under his cigarette.
every time he finds himself walking down fraternity row he also finds himself wondering how he got here.
not physically- he took a left on 4th and a right on morningside, he knows that.
but in a larger sense.
he’s a junior well on his way to a media and entertainment arts degree who, as a freshman and sophomore spent most of his friday nights at local dives either playing with his band or drinking and shooting the shit with the divorced dads at the pool table.
so when he wonders how he got here, he means how he’s found himself on the way to his third house party this month.
he finally gets his cigarette lit and he stops on the sidewalk to get in a few drags before he heads in. mentally prepares himself for the insufferable music he’ll have to endure for thirty minutes or so before he tunes it out.
he mock-bows at the group of girls that wanders past, giggles and waves sent his way making him laugh to himself.
he drops the butt and stubs it beneath the toe of his boot and takes a breath.
heads toward the house door.
when he gets there he’s met with two guys, freshman surely. letters emblazoned across their cutoff muscle tees and hats turned backwards and perched, very stupidly if eddie shares his piece, atop their heads.
they stop him with a hand up and friendly smiles and mock bravado “three actives,” bro number one states.
eddie barely holds back an incredulous laugh.
“you cannot be serious.”
the boys eye each other, confused and getting frustrated, eddie can tell.
the first bows up a bit.
“dead serious, bro. name three actives.”
and look, eddie may be a showman at the best of times but he really doesn’t want to pull his trump card here. not now.
that would just add insult to injury.
he’s wracking his brain for a way to let them down gently, to get them to step aside and let him through when there’s a loud commotion behind them and then steve is shouldering his way past and onto the front steps.
“eddie!!” he cheers and swings his strong arms up and around his neck. he, unlike tweedle dee and tweedle dum, is just wearing a white t-shirt and his hair, his beautiful, beautiful hair is left untarnished by the blasphemy that is the frat boy snapback.
he wraps an arm low around his waist and presses a kiss to his temple.
“hey, baby,” he smiles, watching the dropped jaws and disbelieving eyes over steve’s shoulder.
steve pulls back and shoves his chest back and he stumbles, laughing.
“dude you were supposed to be here ages ago!”
eddie tugs him back close by his wrists and puts on his best puppy eyes.
“sorry, sweetheart, got caught up at rehearsals. but i’m all yours now.”
steve grabs his hand and tangles their fingers together. spins around and point between eddie and the pledge-bouncers.
“guys, this is eddie! eddie this is jeremy and josh.”
eddie waves, small and a bit sarcastic but steve doesn’t pick up on that. just tugs him past and takes off to find eddie a drink.
eddie gets clapped on the shoulder and high-fived by a couple of steve’s friends as they pass and he yells across the room to eric to save him a seat.
he turns back to the door and still sees bewildered looks, slightly afraid.
he gets it, he does.
in a larger sense at least.
if he were these boys and had just tried to deny entry to the president’s boyfriend he might be a little afraid too.
he swings an arm around each of their shoulders and pulls them close.
“relax, gentlemen. your secret is safe with me.”
they stutter and go to argue but steve is back with two red plastic cups and a bright smile.
“c’mon ed, luke wants to hear about your show since he missed it last week.”
eddie pats both boys on their backs before he takes the drink from steve’s hand and tucks the other in steve’s back pocket.
“later guys. catch up next time, yeah?”
their stunned nods and quiet agreements follow as eddie and steve walk away.
they’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.
1K notes · View notes
qprstobin · 1 year
Text
The fact people act like Steve wouldn't notice if a guy/Eddie was flirting with him at all, when part of the hilarity behind the big boy flirtation scene is that Steve CLEARLY knows something about the comment is off lol. That's why he looks so baffled. Steve can be oblivious about other things but come on Casanova over there is going to notice when someone is flirting with him even if it is a guy
4K notes · View notes
pencilscratchins · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
every once in a while i’ll draw actual ship art and then remember who i am, so i go back to my lane and make more frasier jokes (twitter) [ID IN ALT]
6K notes · View notes
mardyart · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
how kind of vecna to let eddie have his rdr all stars grand entrance as kas the bloody handed
9K notes · View notes
anniebass · 9 days
Text
Tumblr media
baby don't be mad
1.3k word actverse ficlet under the jump rating: M tags: dialogue-heavy, beginning of the relationship, the boys are arguinggg, old man eddie's being a clueless slut, and also a dweeb, and steve's being... a person that rly needs therapy lol
Rapid catchups, they name it, though it doesn’t really need a name, it’s basically just talking. Early on Eddie realizes he doesn’t know all that much about his sexy old-but-new long distance serious boyfriend, that he possesses a fuckton of outdated information, that, duh, people change, especially in the long-ass time they spent apart. That the habits and opinions of a twenty-year-old shithead don’t necessarily last until someone’s forties.
That evening, they do the rapid catchups, starting off easy, prompted by the takeout dinner they have at Steve’s: best Asian food, go, at which without a second thought Steve says Chinese, while Eddie goes with Japanese, love me some sushi, yum. Later, when they’re full of kung pao and mapo tofu, lazily digesting on the couch, half-watching an old movie where Sharon Stone saunters across the screen and smolders at bad men, Steve says: you have to sleep with a woman, any woman in the world, dead or alive, go.
Eddie groans and slides down the couch, throws his hands up: dude, I don’t know! Uh, like maybe— Cleopatra? Or maybe one of those amazonian greek warriors with one boobie?
So, no one you actually know the face of? he says, with a little smirk.
Man, I don’t— I mean, there are some beautiful women walking this earth, like stunning stunning women I can’t get enough of, but that don’t mean I want to fuck them! My willy shrinks at the thought, he explains meekly, and shrugs, clicking his tongue: I dunno, maybe Eartha Kitt? She seems very fun.
Good choice, mutters Steve, and to Eddie’s your turn he tilts his head, scratches his nose: I don’t know if that question really applies to me. But if I had to have a sex list, it would be… Linda Evangelista? Or Sharon, she’s hot. Or— yeah, Monica Belucci, Jesus. Her, definitely. If not her then Cleopatra, that’s actually a great answer, she must have been good for all that shit to go down around her, he says with a smile, and Eddie sighs dreamily, oh, I’d love to watch. From the closet, imagine myself in her place. In a little egyptian wig, he adds, to which Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.
Alright, my turn. Best casual sex you’ve ever had, go, says Eddie, and Steve hums at that, leans back on the couch, rubbing his chin, mumbling under his breath, until he sighs and says: I actually didn’t have that much of it beyond my teens, and what I had back then was very… teenaged, y’know. And in that short gap between my first and second wife I slept with just three people, two dudes and one woman, and neither of those was mind-blowing. The guys were kinda disappointing, I thought after so many years of straight sex I’d be blown away, but it was just… okay. Actually—, he adds, shaking his head: it sucked. I was drunk, they were drunk, I don’t remember much of it. Or don’t want to. I remember stinky balls. So, I dunno—, he says, and sighs, and glances at him: am I a big loser if I say the best one was when we reconnected? Could say it was still casual back then, right? When we fucked in the church, or by the pool, or—, yeah, there was a lot of it, on that trip.
It really was magical, agrees Eddie, smiling at him.
So, uh, your turn, says Steve. Best you've ever had, go.
Oh, man, mutters Eddie. I know my answer to that. Japan, in the mid-nineties. We were on tour and stayed for a few nights in Tokyo, and I got to explore the city, research shit with the help of a very discreet translator, and finally, on our last night there, I ended up in a gay bar. Very hush-hush, a basement place hidden away in some grimy back alley, he says, lowering his voice into sultry tones of gossip. Met a guy there, this… slightly chubby middle-aged businessman type, suit and tie and briefcase, wedding ring on his finger, very regular looking guy, and we drank sake through the night, sang some karaoke, and ended up in some seedy by-the-hour love hotel. He didn’t know who I was, didn’t speak a lick of English, I was obviously drunk, but I still remember that night like it was yesterday. God, just— the way that guy fucked me, the way he seemed to know every inch of my body without having seen it before, the way he just knew what I wanted without any language, it was insane. We did it a few times that one night, practically without stopping, and never saw each other again. I actually jerk off to that memory to this day.
To this, Steve lets out a small hm, purses his lips and leans back, crossing his arms, and Eddie clicks his tongue, leaning closer, touching his shoulder: aw, don’t be jealous. That was casual, but out of all people, of course you are my number one, no contest. I just— remember that one time in Japan, because it worked so well without language, and that’s always kinda hot. Language of love, all that cheesy stuff. Up to that point and following it, it'd mostly happen with some hot Brazilians.
Okay, he says.
Eddie sighs, watching his face: Steve, you know that’s what my life was like back then, this neverending barrage of hookups. And most of those weren’t even that good, like, you talk of stinky balls? I met dozens, slobbered over them anyway like they were fucking Ferrero Rocher!, he says to a small groan in return, then sighs, speaks softer: being with you is a completely different quality from that, even from my previous relationships. It’s way different. With Marcell, we both slept around, there wasn’t much that we had in common beyond, like, incredible attraction at the beginning, and the fact that we work in the same industry, could endlessly talk about that. And with Zu, we— we really loved each other, but we weren’t a good fit. It was this weird thing where she needed someone more masc, but also I needed someone more masc, he says with an amused scoff. We were two bottoms in love, and it’s hard to make it work in the long term, without fucking other people. We’re way better off as friends. And the other dudes I dated, it was just— me being a drunken asshole, most of the time. I was a very shitty boyfriend for a looong-ass time.
There’s a stretch of silence, and Steve slides down the couch, still frowning: man… I just wonder why you asked that question in the first place. Because it seems to me like you wanted to brag a little about this incredible hookup you had in fucking… Japan. Do you miss fucking other people, Eddie?
He sighs, rakes a hand through his hair: Steve, I literally just told you I don’t. I might romanticize it, the— the way I might romanticize being on drugs, but I don’t want to go back to that. I asked because I want to know everything about you! I dunno, I— I guess I like Japan. It’s such a weird place, I really want to go back there, he says and inches closer, placing a calm hand on his thigh: come with me. Like, for two weeks or something. We’d take the girls with us, go in the summer or for the spring break. Would be cool to just wander around, shop, sing karaoke, eat tons of good food. Go to Kyoto, see the geishas, tea ceremony. Go to hot springs. Japan’s truly like no place you’ve ever been to.
I didn't know you liked it that much. A trip does sound nice, says Steve, with a small smile. Emily would go crazy, she loves those cartoons. Chels would like it too, I think.
Eddie smiles and squeezes his leg: sounds like a plan. Also, just to— get it out of the way: from the moment you first kissed me, I stopped thinking of us as casual. I was, like, fully fully back in love with you in point two seconds. Even before that, to be honest. If I ever for a single moment considered that a hookup, it’d totally blow that businessman out of the water. If you want, I could show you, uh, how I blew him out of the— fucking—, he falters, then snorts: sorry, failed metaphor. But you catch my drift.
Yes, please, says Steve.
235 notes · View notes
elfireblogyes · 27 days
Text
Tumblr media
SIGHTING.
yo did you see that?
283 notes · View notes
ickypuppi3 · 2 months
Text
‘billy hargrove wouldn’t bottom’ i know him better than you
240 notes · View notes
teruel-a-witch · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
If Steve didn't want his co-workers to assume he was taking a vacation to 'reconnect' with his partner perhaps he shouldn't have looked at Danny like that and touched him in a way that indicated that this decision to take days off is directly related to him. Subtlety, thy name is not McDanno.
515 notes · View notes
steddie-there · 1 year
Text
Eddie notices it first at Dairy Queen.
It's the first time since leaving the hospital that he's been somewhere with the whole party that isn't Steve's house or the Hoppers-Byers cabin. The younger children crowd the counter, talking over each other as they count their money and decide what to get, while the older teens and adults hang at the back, looking at the menu. Then Erica steps over to Steve and says something Eddie can't quite make out. He nods, winds his way through the gremlins, and places his order. When his name is called, he picks up two cups of ice cream and hands one to Erica, who takes it with a smirk and a comment Eddie can't make out, although it has Steve laughing and shoving playfully at her shoulder.
Eddie turns then to look at the other kids but none of them even seem to notice that Steve has seemingly paid for Erica and not them. It's confusing because Eddie is sure Henderson, at least, would be kicking up a fuss about it. Not even Robin says anything.
But, then again, maybe Steve owes Erica money. Or he lost a bet. Eddie is aware how fierce the younger Sinclair is in collecting on her debts, having made the mistake once and once only of asking her to buy him a soda. So, if no one else is bothered, neither is he. He shrugs and enjoys his sundae.
But then it happens again the next week at Baskin Robbins.
And again two weeks later.
When the last ice cream truck left in Hawkins comes through Steve's neighborhood and the only one to get anything is Erica - at Steve's expense, of course - and the other kids don't even grumble beyond wishing they hadn't blown all their allowance at the arcade, Eddie decides he's had enough.
"Okay, what is it with this ice cream thing???" he bursts out as they all settle back down next to the pool.
The burble of conversation stops as everyone turns to look at him, then glance around at each other.
"What ice cream thing?" Mike finally asks, genuinely confused.
"What ice cream... the ice cream thing!" Eddie splutters. "The thing where Steve always buys Erica ice cream and none of the rest of you munchkins seem to care!"
There's a collective ohhhh of understanding, but Eddie is still completely in the dark. He gestures for someone to explain.
"It's because of Operation Child Endangerment," Dustin answers, casual, like it's a normal, non-question-inducing answer.
Eddie scrunches his brows together and lets out a confused bubble of sound at the same time that Steve buries his face in his hands and groans, "I thought we agreed not to call it that."
Erica laughs and wags her finger at him. "Uh, no. Just because you demanded we change it doesn't mean we agreed to."
"...little lost here. What's Operation Child Endangerment?" Eddie asks, glancing sideways at Steve. He can see, between his fingers, that the other boy's face has gone bright red.
Steve groans again and sinks forward to let his head hang by his knees.
And so Eddie finds out everything about the summer of '85 and Starcourt mall. He already knew the basics, but he's still fascinated. Horrified. Impressed.
He watches Steve through the whole retelling, jumbled as it is by the kids all interrupting each other to add something they thought was being forgotten, and feels his heart ache inside his chest for the beautiful boy across from him. Watches him hunch his shoulders when Erica explains the deal they made, the one that's got her free ice cream for life. Watches him puff up a little with pride when Dustin describes him knocking the Russian comms operator out cold. Watches him squeeze Robin's hand when she mentions the Russian torture and drugs. Watches him tug El into a hug when Jonathan talks about having to cut into her leg.
Eddie watches Steve - brave, loyal, loving Steve, who won't break a promise or a deal even after he most certainly could - laughing with their friends, taking their ribbing and teasing them in return, ruffling Dustin's hair and splashing Erica, almost starting a party-wide splash fight.
Eddie waits until everyone is distracted by Max chasing Lucas across the pool after his cannonball knocked her from her floaty, various advice being shouted to both, then moves to sit next to Steve on his pool chair.
"That was, uh, a lot," he says quietly.
Steve bites his lip, turns a little away from the chaos in and around the pool, although his eyes still track the chase, Max having almost cornered Lucas. "Yeah, yeah it was," he replies, just as quietly.
"Pretty impressive," Eddie tells him, knocking their shoulders together.
Steve shrugs. He snorts as Max finally catches Lucas and dunks him a couple times before they both dissolve into laughter.
Eddie bumps his shoulder again. "Seriously, dude, you gotta know how cool you are."
"I guess," Steve says, still not looking at Eddie, fidgeting with his hands instead.
Eddie thinks he knows what thoughts might be running around inside Steve's head, so he puts a hand over Steve's. The jittery motions still under his touch. "Hey, you got them out of there. You didn't know what you were walking into and you all got out alive. I call that pretty badass."
Steve finally turns to him. The look in his eyes makes Eddie want to pull Steve close, hold him until that look disappears. But he doesn't, just squeezes Steve's fingers.
The corner of Steve's mouth ticks up, just a little. "Thanks, Eddie." He looks like he might say more, but suddenly Dustin lets out a whoop and they both turn to the pool. Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, and Argyle have started a game of chicken, Nancy on Jonathan's shoulders and Robin on Argyle's.
They watch, laughing, as the girls wrestle until they both go tumbling into the water together and come up spluttering. Steve's head is thrown back, his shoulders are shaking with giggles and Eddie feels a grin stretch across his face.
He leans forward to rest his chin on Steve's shoulder, his hand still over Steve's, a teasing tone in his voice when he says, "So, hey, I was wondering. What would it take for me to get free ice cream for life from Steve Harrington?"
Steve turns his head and Eddie pulls back so they can look at each other. And that's all they do for a long moment, Eddie's breathing speeding up when Steve's gaze drops to his lips.
But all Steve does is turn his hand in Eddie's grip, so he can tangle their fingers together. He squeezes Eddie's hand, then stands, grinning, tugging Eddie up with him.
"C'mon," Steve says, pulling Eddie over to the pool before jumping in with a splash. Eddie ducks away from the water, grinning like a fool. When he catches Erica's knowing smirk, he just shrugs helplessly and follows Steve in.
Maybe he owes Erica some free ice cream, too.
3K notes · View notes
eldritch-thrumming · 1 year
Text
i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.
kiss me once ‘cause you know i had a long night, kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be all right, three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life
Steve’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He’s technically not supposed to have it on the floor, but it’s 9:30 on a Wednesday night and the store’s dead anyway.
Eddie 🎸👎: date’s a dud engage emergency protocol immediately 🚨🚨🚨
Steve rolls his eyes and clicks the little phone icon near Eddie’s name.
“Hello?” Eddie manages to sound both confused and concerned.
“Help, help,” Steve deadpans, leaning his elbows on the counter. “I’m having an emergency that only you can help me with.” Steve’s done this enough times in the three years they’ve lived together to know that Eddie can think up his own lie to tell his date.
“Oh my god, I’ll be right there, Steve.”
Steve’s not sure how Eddie manages to make it sound so convincing every time, but it’s enough that even Steve might start to believe it if he wasn’t the one calling.
Eddie hangs up without saying goodbye, probably to tell his date some exaggerated story about how Steve’s fallen in the shower or fell off a ladder. Somehow, all Eddie’s emergency scenarios involve Steve hurting himself in increasingly embarrassing ways.
By the time Steve’s got the store tidied and closed and walked the four blocks to their apartment, Robin and Eddie are already on the couch in the living room. Steve can hear them bickering over what to watch from the front hallway as he slips off his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket. He follows the sound of their voices to find them practically wrestling over the remote.
“Jesus, can’t leave you two alone for more than five minutes. You’re worse than the kids,” Steve says as he makes his way across the room and into the kitchen for a bag of chips. It wasn’t the healthiest dinner, but he was too exhausted to cook.
“There’s leftovers from the diner in the fridge,” Eddie calls out to him, not even missing a beat as he pries the remote from Robin’s white-knuckled grip.
“You took leftovers on a first date?” Robin asks him, appalled, as if it’s the most unheard of thing Eddie’s ever said.
Steve’s popping the styrofoam container into their tiny microwave as Eddie tells her, “It was a second date for your information.” He puts on an episode of Ghost Adventures without asking anyone’s input.
“Wow, someone made it past your rigorous first date interview? Shocker.” Robin crosses her arms and huffs in annoyance, because she was also going to put on Ghost Adventures but it’s the principle of the thing. You just don’t take a woman’s remote from her, under any circumstance.
“Hey, it’s imperative for me to suss out a potential partner’s commitment to the music gods,” Eddie says.
“‘Potential partners’?” Robin scoffs. “I thought you said you were in your slut era?”
“Well,” Eddie seems to lose his footing here. “I am. But I can’t be fucking anyone who listens to Tame Impala.”
“Steve listens to Tame Impala.”
Steve has made it back into the living room in time to see the blush rise on Eddie’s cheeks.
“Good thing I’m not fucking Steve then, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, good thing.” Even Steve can hear the eye roll in Robin’s voice.
Because the thing was…
Okay, so the thing is…
The long and short of it is that they’re not fucking.
But they’re also, like. Not not fucking.
It’s just that sometimes, after a horrible date or a stressful day or even just when they’re feeling incredibly horny, the apartment can feel kind of lonely, even with two roommates. So. They… do stuff. Together. No penetration, but. Yeah. Enough for it to be called ‘fucking,’ probably. At least Steve thinks so.
But they haven’t told Robin. They’re both pretty sure she suspects. She’s not a fucking idiot and Steve thinks someone living under the same roof as Steve and Eddie would have to be in order to be that oblivious. Steve’s pretty sure she’s been trying to get one or the other of them to confess, but they’ve held strong so far. It’s not that they were hiding it, exactly. It was just that, whenever this thing inevitably came to an end or imploded on them both, they didn’t want to have to explain it to anyone. At least that was what Steve was thinking, because it’s not like they actually talk about it.
Neither of them say anything else, so Steve makes an attempt to change the subject.
“So what did you tell your date this time?” He asks Eddie before shoveling a forkful of reheated pasta into his own mouth.
Eddie smirks. “I told him you cut off the tip of your finger with your crafting scissors while you were scrapbooking and then passed out from the sight of the blood and hit your head on the corner of the coffee table.”
Steve pauses with his fork halfway between the takeout container and his mouth.
“I thought these emergencies were supposed to be believable.”
“I’ve literally walked in on you scrapbooking multiple times, Stevie,” Eddie says it like he’s stating the obvious.
“I could never cut through my fingers with my crafting scissors.”
“Oh, that’s what you take issue with about that lame-ass scenario?” Robin scoffs again.
“There’s nothing wrong with scrapbooking,” Steve says defensively.
“Didn’t say there was,” Robin mutters, turning her attention back to the TV. “Can you guys shut up now? I’m trying to watch my stories.”
Steve rolls his eyes and shares a look with Eddie before doing as Robin says and shutting the fuck up. He drops down into the lone armchair to finish his leftover diner food, attention fixed on the television. He thinks he can feel it every time Eddie’s eyes dart over to look at him.
~*~
Later, after Eddie’s snuck into his bed around one a.m. and they’re laying there next to each other in the afterglow, Steve asks, “So the date really sucked?”
Eddie sighs. “I mean, he was nice and all, but there just wasn’t any, like… chemistry or whatever. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Steve responds, his voice low. Steve hadn’t been on a date in months, hadn’t felt the usual impulse to flirt with strangers incessantly. Robin kept saying he was in a lull or a slump or something, but Steve does start to feel lonely sometimes, especially when Robin is out with her girlfriend and Eddie has a date and he’s left to his own devices in their shared apartment. Even though, more often than not lately, Eddie’s dates almost always end in “emergency protocol” and the two of them wind up tangled in Steve’s sheets. Steve can’t help but think that it’s only a matter of time before all of this comes to an end, before Eddie finds someone who’s perfect for him.
Someone who isn’t Steve.
~*~
Three days later, Steve and Eddie wake up to the blaring honk of Steve’s alarm, wrapped around each other. Steve can’t help but notice the way Eddie looks when he’s just woken up, soft and rumpled, hair a tangled mess on top of his head.
“Ugh, make it stop,” Eddie groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Steve slams his hand down on his alarm clock and flops back onto his pillows, even though he really should be getting up for work. He wraps a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck before dropping a kiss to his forehead and pulling him back to lie against his chest.
“Don’t wanna get up yet,” Steve mutters, eyes falling shut again. The blankets are warm and soft and the weight of Eddie on his chest is enough to have him drifting back into sleep.
Eddie doesn’t let him though. Instead, he plants his palm on Steve’s chest and pushes himself upright, making Steve groan in dissatisfaction.
“Gotta get up, dude,” Eddie tells him, yawning and climbing out from under the covers to pull on his discarded sleep pants. “Got, like, seven engines to fix today. Something about spring, man, everyone’s car starts to break down.” Eddie pulls his t-shirt over his head before opening Steve’s door and sticking his head out, making sure the coast is clear.
Eddie leaves the door slightly open and crosses back to Steve’s bed, planting a kiss on Steve’s cheek, like he just can’t help himself.
“Won’t get off until late and then I have a date, so keep your phone at the ready,” Eddie smiles when he says it and Steve wants to trace his dimples with his tongue.
“Coming home first?”
“Nah, just gonna shower at the gym next door,” Eddie stretches. “See ya later, Stevie.” And then he’s out the door and slipping quickly into his own room down the hall.
Steve doesn’t like the way Eddie’s bedroom door sounds as it clicks shut.
~*~
Steve has the early shift at the store, so when he gets home in the late afternoon with two bags of groceries, he’s got the apartment to himself. Robin’s spending her weekend off with Vickie and Eddie’s still at work before heading off to his date.
Steve puts his groceries away, makes himself an early dinner, and then positions himself in front of the TV. He puts his phone face up on the coffee table, so he’ll see it when Eddie texts him to get out of his date.
He gets lost in the Real Housewives of Wherever for hours before he remembers he’s supposed to be keeping an eye on his phone. He taps the screen and sees there are no notifications. That’s weird. It’s already well past nine; Eddie usually texts by now for a rescue.
Steve sits back on the couch, eyes on his phone where it sits on the coffee table in front of him. He watches it for a few long moments, willing it to ring.
It doesn’t.
~*~
Hours later, Steve wakes up to the front door slamming shut. His face feels plastered to the leather of their second-hand couch. He knows it’s Eddie coming through the door because he’s the only one of them that lets it slam when it closes.
Steve reaches for his phone, still on the coffee table where he’s left it. He taps the screen and sees that it’s already after two in the morning. Eddie comes into the living room and seems surprised to see him on the couch.
“You’re still up?” He asks, eyebrows pulling together.
“You didn’t call,” Steve tries to make it sound casual, but even he hears the accusation in his own voice.
“Uh yeah. No. He was, uh. Kinda cool, actually,” Eddie smiles to himself and it looks so soft and sweet in the dim light of TV. Steve feels his chest go hollow seeing it. He swallows.
“Well,” Steve clears his throat. “That’s great.”
“Wanna hang out?” Eddie asks. Steve’s not sure if he means hang out or hang out, but either way, Steve can’t bring himself to say yes.
“Nah.” He yawns. “Early shift tomorrow.” It’s a lie, but who can blame him?
Steve gets up off the couch and crosses the room before Eddie can say anything.
“Oh, sure,” Eddie mutters as Steve brushes past him on his way into the hallway. “Goodnight, Stevie.”
Steve feels his throat constrict, like he might cry if Eddie says anything else. He clears his throat again. “‘Night,” he returns, before he shuts his bedroom door behind him.
~*~
Steve stews in it for a couple of days. He’s annoyed and grumpy and even Robin starts avoiding him after he snaps at her one too many times for no reason. He’s avoiding Eddie, but he suspects that Eddie is also avoiding him.
Which is absurd. It’s not like Steve changed the rules. He’s not the one who changed their routine. Who went on a date with someone else and enjoyed it.
That thought gives Steve pause because that’s not what this is, is it? He’s aware that he’s not very good at keeping his emotions out of his sex life. He knows he gets too attached too soon. But Eddie is his friend. You’re supposed to have emotions for your friends. You’re supposed to hate everyone they date. You’re supposed to want to spend all your time with them. Right?
Fuck. Fuck. Steve is maybe out of his depth here.
By Tuesday night, he has no choice but to go to Robin.
“I fucked up,” he says without preamble, walking into her room without knocking and flopping face first onto her unmade bed. She just watches him from where she sits at her desk in front of her laptop. Eddie has a late night band practice after work, so they’ve got the place to themselves.
“Yeah, how?” She asks.
“I… am not sure. But I feel bad.” Steve is practically whining at this point.
“Can I tell you what I think without you getting mad at me?” Robin’s tone is cautious in a way that it hardly ever is with Steve.
“When do I ever get mad?” Steve scowls at her, the side of his face smooshed into her pillow so he can see her.
“Gee, I wonder.” Robin rolls her eyes. “You’ve been testy since Saturday, babe.”
Steve huffs but it’s not like he can deny it, exactly.
“Whatever, I’m in a bad mood,” he grumbles, picking at a thread on her comforter.
“Yeah, and why do you think that is?” Robin’s question sounds decidedly pointed.
“I dunno. Full moon or something. Something’s in retrograde, probably.”
Robin sighs. “Look, I’m going to say something to you and I want you to just listen and synthesize the information, okay? Just shut up.” Steve grunts and Robin clearly takes that for assent. “I think that you’re in love with Eddie.”
She says it so matter-of-factly that Steve sits straight up on her bed so he can look at her fully. His eyes dart to her open door. “What?” He practically spits out.
Robin rolls her eyes again. “Yeah, whatever. I know I’m not supposed to know about the… whatever you want to call it. But you guys aren’t exactly subtle. Or quiet.” Steve’s jaw falls open. “I know you’ve been fooling around for months. And you haven’t had to figure out your feelings for each other because you haven’t been dating at all and every date Eddie’s been on he’s sabotaged himself. And now he’s had a great date and you’re feeling threatened, obviously. You’re jealous, Steve.”
Steve just looks at her for a moment, before saying, “I actually hate you so much.” He looks back over toward her open door. “Did he say it was a great date?”
“Ugh, you’re pathetic.” Robin balls up a piece of paper and throws it at him, before turning serious. “Just tell him, Stevie. I’m pretty sure he’s into you just as much as you’re into him. You should see the way he stares at your ass when he thinks no one’s looking. It’s truly disgusting.”
Steve throws the ball of paper back at Robin, hitting her squarely in her forehead.
~*~
Steve locks himself in his room for the rest of the night, obsessing over what Robin has told him. He tosses and turns all night thinking about it. He’s vaguely aware of the door slamming as Eddie comes in from band practice around midnight and he thinks that maybe Eddie might linger just a little longer outside Steve’s door, but he doesn’t knock. Just pauses before he moves on to his own room.
Steve wakes up late the next morning. He has to rush through his morning routine and by the time he makes it to the kitchen for breakfast, both Robin and Eddie have left for the day. Luckily, Steve has a midday shift, so he has a bit of time before he has to leave for the store. He leans against the counter, spooning cereal into his mouth. As he places his dirty bowl and spoon in the sink to clean after work, his eyes get caught on the whiteboard they have hanging on the fridge.
Second date tonight, keep phone handy -E
Steve feels his heart start beating fast, almost erratically. His fingertips go numb. He licks his lips and leaves the kitchen, slipping on his shoes and jacket and leaving for work.
~*~
Steve comes home to an empty apartment. Robin has some study group and Eddie has his date. Steve can’t help but feel a little depressed as he walks through the door to nothing but quiet.
He makes himself dinner. He puts something on the television. He places his phone face-up on the coffee table, just in case.
It doesn’t light up with a notification until well after nine. It’s a phone call. From Eddie.
Steve fumbles his phone as he lunges to pick it up.
“Hey,” he says into his phone’s speaker. “Thought you had a date.”
“Yeah,” Steve can tell Eddie’s smiling, even though he can’t see him. “Was wondering if you had some kind of emergency to tell me about?”
“Um.” Steve is confused. This isn’t the normal script. He’s supposed to call Eddie. Not the other way around. “I don’t. Know? I mean. Yeah. I… need you?”
“On my way, Stevie.” And then he hangs up.
~*~
Steve’s paused the TV and is sitting on the living room couch in silence by the time he hears the door slam shut. He looks up as Eddie walks into the room.
“Hey,” Eddie greets him, voice low. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah, been… busy.” Steve inwardly cringes at how he sounds, knows it’s a lame excuse, because Eddie knows him. He knows why he hasn’t seen Steve.
“Right,” Eddie smirks. “So… can we talk?”
“Sure, whatever.” Steve tries to sound casual, thinks he misses it by about a mile.
Eddie sits in the armchair instead of next to Steve on the couch. Steve tries not to take it as an insult.
“I was on a really good date tonight, Stevie,” Eddie tells him, voice soft and slow, like he’s breaking bad news to Steve. Steve’s heart clenches in chest, hard and painful. He nods, eyes on everything but Eddie. “He was cool and funny and actually had good taste in music.” Steve’s not exactly sure he really needs to hear this. “But…”
Steve feels a small flutter of hope in the pit of his stomach. “But?” He prompts, still not looking at Eddie.
“But.” Steve can tell from his tone that Eddie’s smiling again, that same smile he’d heard on the phone. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About sitting here watching dumb reality shows with your arm around me. Waiting for your call even though I hadn’t texted you.”
Steve’s eyes snap to Eddie’s. He licks his lips. “What.” He doesn’t say it like a question.
“I wanted to be with you, Stevie. Always wanna be with you.” Eddie looks nervous now. He pulls at a rip in his jeans. “Do you… what do you think about that?”
“I, uh.” Steve’s mouth is suddenly dry, voice just a little hoarse. “I think it’s… good.”
“Good?” Eddie snorts. “You think it’s good? Gonna need a little more here, Steve.” Eddie still looks a little nervous, but his smile is starting to form again.
“Yeah, like. Really good.” Steve licks his lips again. “I always wanna be with you, too,” he adds softly.
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, and he sounds vulnerable in a way that Steve’s never really heard before. He’s fully smiling again, small and soft, like maybe he can’t believe his luck.
Steve smiles back at him. “Yeah.”
And then they don’t say anything at all. Eddie crosses the small space between them and tackles Steve back against the couch. Their lips meet, soft at first. Then Steve let’s out a moan, opens his mouth under Eddie’s and the kisses turn decidedly less soft and more horny.
~*~
The next morning, Steve’s phone dings on his bedside table. He reaches over to read the screen.
Queen Robbie✨💕: love that u guys have figured ur shit out, but can we work out a system or something? i heard u [redacted] and then [redacted] and also [redacted]
Steve smiles before dropping his phone back on his bedside table and turning over in his bed. He pulls a sleeping Eddie into his arms and drops a tiny kiss to the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie lets out a sleepy little moan. Steve could get used to waking up like this every morning.
———
An anonymous benefactor gifted me with lyrics from “Paper Rings” and here is what I’ve done with them.
Just two things: 1. I have never seen Ghost Adventures, but I imagine it would be one of the only shows both Robin and Eddie could agree on and 2. I have never listened to Tame Impala, I know nothing abt the music (beyond the fact that it’s just one guy??? see, I am hip and cool, gen z), so this is not intentional slander, I promise!!! It’s just the first thing I thought of.
Oh ETA: I also know nothing abt cars or what mechanics do, I assume they sometimes fix engines.
1K notes · View notes
florallylly · 4 months
Text
i've seen model steve harrington aus. i've seen child steve harrington aus. i present: child model steve harrington
note: this came from my own desperate need to see this conceptualized and i SWEAR i've searched, i just can't find any content with child model steve so. :(
bc little steve harrington was remarkably cherub-like. his large brown eyes and soft pout ensured endless cooing and fussing from his mom's friends. and when he blushed and ducked his head in shyness, they only complimented him more. when he got home that day, his mom smiled at him.
so steve decided that he would put up with the cheek pinching and the squealing. he sat upright in his chair, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't fidget and ruin the image. because he'd do anything to keep his mom smiling at him. if he was being particularly good that day, she'd let him lay his head on her lap on the drive back home.
but everything changed at his father's birthday gala. a nearly eight year old steve harrington sat prim and proper in his seat, but a smile lit up his face--his cheeks round and his dimples showing up. he raised his hand up to cover his giggle, but he couldn't help but laugh at some silly old man with a loose toupee. then he sees his mom approaching, and his face quickly smooths over, going back to the more polite smile he usually adopted when it came to these events.
he'd ruined it. he hadn't continued being the sweet boy his mom wanted. but then, she smiles at him. and introduces him to the man behind her, who says he's a designer. the man holds out his hand, but when steve puts his hand into his palm, he doesn't shake it. the man simply holds his hand, his eyes scanning steve's face. steve tries not to squirm under the attention. but the man nods and smiles at his mom, and he gives two brief cheek kisses to steve, whispering in his ear "you're going to be a star, darling." steve looks at his mom, confused, but she waves him off to continue talking to the man.
a few months later, steve's mom whisks him off on a trip to france. and steve is so excited to go, nearly vibrating in his seat as the airplane prepares to take off. but instead of the eiffel tower and the seine, steve is taken to a studio. he's posed and changed. once again, he's being fussed over, but instead of wealthy socialites, gossiping make-up artists squeal over him. he's "perfect for the shoot" and "the most darling little boy." steve doesn't understand, but his mom is still smiling, so he lets the nice ladies brush powder over his face.
and he looks in the mirror. his hair is a little more tousled and his lips have a slight tint to them and his eyes seem to take up much of his face. he's put into new clothes, and he feels like a doll in their hands. and when he's put in front of the camera, he simply follows the photographer's directions. afterwards, he's bundled into the car and his mom can't stop gushing about how good he was.
apparently, he's a natural. and then she goes back to fussing over him, focusing more on appearance than his behavior now. but she takes him out shopping and they eat at an upscale restaurant along the champs-elysses. and steve is happy.
and then they go back home, and his mom is so much stricter than before. she has him try out all kinds of different hair products, determined to find the best combination to keep it looking shiny and soft. she controls his food intake and what he wears and makes him use weird creams and serums on his face. but this is what makes his mom happy, so he's happy to let her.
his mom is also on the phone a lot more lately, whispering harshly about the quality of brands and steve just assumes she's being picky about the clothes she buys. later, his mom picks him up and holds him, and asks if he'd like to move to italy. she looks at him intently and it's obvious what answer she wants, so steve nods. she smiles and holds him close, and it's the most loved steve has felt in a while.
so they move to italy, and suddenly steve is a lot more busy. he's put in front of more cameras for more people he doesn't know. but he's smiling and pouting and doing whatever they want him to do. his compliant attitude and polite nature have photographers and designers alike singing his praises, and steve always looks to his mom for approval. but she's been arguing with his dad a lot lately, so she's upset more often than not. but that's okay, the make-up artists are always kind to him.
but then one day, his mom takes a phone call in the middle of the shoot. and when it finishes, she's gone. steve goes back in, close to tears, but the make-up artists still hanging around look after him until a car is sent to pick him up. this becomes a trend. and eventually, steve goes alone to his shoots. he's always taken care of by the crew and someone is always there to pick him up, but it's not fun without his mom there.
but he knows that she's always enjoyed him taking pictures, so he continues to do so, hoping that she'll come watch him again sometime soon. and he busies himself with befriending the chatty make-up artists and the bossy photographers and the eccentric designers. and he's such a cute little thing that they can't help but dote on him.
steve is never catapulted into child stardom, as his mom is picky with his jobs, only choosing luxury brands and well known designers for him. but within the industry, they call him the "little prince."
and then steve is catapulted into puberty, but his intense skin regimen prevents him from getting acne, save for the occasional zit. and his diet and religious exercise schedule help maintain his look. and he's still doing remarkably well, especially now that he's fully aware that he is a Model.
and steve has truly grown into his looks. with time, he's grown more comfortable in front of the camera and made numerous friends. nearly all of them are older than him, but they're fun and loud and it fills up the space that normally surrounds him. and they're the ones who get him hooked on american movies. steve remembers living in america, but he's been in milan so long that everything he recalls is vague.
but he watches them and falls in love with the american high school experience. so when he finally catches his mom off the phone and actually in the house, steve asks if he can go to school in america. and his mom laughs. but steve keeps asking, which devolves into begging. and his mother snaps, slapping him across the face and calling him ungrateful. she cries and begs for forgiveness, cowed into shame by steve's desperate attempt to hold back tears.
and so she lets him go to school in hawkins, indiana. an odd choice, but his parents just so happened to own a property there. (in truth, both of his parents expected him to change his mind within the year). but steve finds his place at hawkins high, because even though nobody in hawkins has ever heard of versace, steve is pretty. he's pretty and charming and he knows the right thing to say. after all, he's spent his whole life perfecting his mask.
and even if his mom ended up moving back home with his dad, leaving steve all alone in that big empty house, steve is happy. he's finally hanging out with people his age and high school is so far removed from the glitz and glam of the fashion industry. and he's settled and content with tommy and carol by his side. while he misses his friends back in milan, steve finds himself longing for the clothes more often. hawkins was certainly the opposite of milan, what with the nearest mall being two hours away and only equipped with a macy's and jcpenny.
through it all, steve is determined to be normal. he laughs along with jokes he doesn't quite get and rolls his eyes at carol's cue, and he joins the swim team. and he joins the basketball team. and he goes to parties and kisses girls and wears dumb little polos with his letterman jacket and does everything that he saw in the movies.
but nancy wheeler is different. steve can't forget his time in italy and who he is and was, and he's reminded of his old life in everyone and everything in hawkins. but not nancy wheeler. she's all hawkins and all his. and then the upside down happens.
and then nancy wheeler breaks his heart.
even after three years, his parents continue to ask when he'll go back to modeling, but he's different now. the upside down and billy hargrove beat that starry eyed little kid who thrived in the spotlight. and nancy wheeler proved that adoration and love is fleeting, so what would even be the point of trying anymore? his dad was a little more approving of steve's retirement/hiatus, saying that steve must want to go to college so he can take over the family business.
but when steve doesn't get into college, he's once again badgered by his mom to go back. but he's grown and changed and he's not sure that he can pretend anymore, so he says no. and they cut him off. enter: scoops era.
the measly scoops salary is not nearly enough to cover all of the new bills and expenses steve has, but he's not willing to leave hawkins. so he reaches out to his friends back in italy, and they refer him to their american connections. steve doesn't model at the same level as before, but he poses for a couple of zines and one artist who got a little too handsy at his exhibition. but he's able to make it through until the mall blows up.
this routine continues and he starts working at family video with robin at his side, but he keeps his side job a secret from the kids, using the excuse of visiting his parents to leave town for his shoots. he's not ashamed, but he knows he wouldn't "be normal" anymore if they found out.
but how does he explain his near mental breakdown at the sight of his healing demobat scars. they're raised and ugly, ruining what should have been a perfect body. and even though he uses scar cream everyday, they refuse to fade away completely. and how could anyone stand to be near such an ugly thing when all his life, steve was meant to be pretty? after all, love and adoration is fleeting.
263 notes · View notes
multifandomnonsense · 2 years
Text
From this point every time I see someone say something along the lines of “stop headcanoning the stranger things characters as queer” I’m gonna headcanon more of them as queer.
6K notes · View notes
Text
my two moods are:
1. steve harrington has final girl energy and nothing can kill him
and
2. steve harrington is destined to die a tragic and martyrous death and i will never be okay again
2K notes · View notes