You're Telling Me This Isn't Nico Di Angelo?

okay hi i need help finding a fic. it was here on tumblr and i think it was recent? and it was steddie and it was about how steve is always perceived as like really dumb and everyone makes jokes and he hates it. and so then one day after he stays at eddies he locks his keys in his car but he doesn’t wanna go get eddie to help him get them out because he’s embarrassed so he walks to work. and i only got like halfway through it so i really wanna finish it but i can’t find it

obsessed with this letterboxd review for CHALLENGERS (2024) by rocky/WAYSTIAR

The fruity four are the most unlikely clique at Rose Hill.

The au/crossover I never knew I wanted til I saw those pastel uniforms

You've probably seen polls about "Would you sing for X minutes / in front of X many people / etc. for $" before. Well. Here's another one!

If you sing a song in front of 50,000 people, you get a million dollars... but this time, you don't get to pick the song.

Spin this wheel of song options, and that's what you have to sing in front of a stadium full of people. You will have 30 minutes to prepare.

i adore this with my whole heart

Crashed the Wedding - Part 10

“Eddie I swear to all that is holy if you don’t stop fidgeting I’m going to stab you with one of these pins.” Nancy sniped as she fiddled with Eddie’s hair, the curls loosely tied into a messy mermaid braid decorated with silver crossing chains, hair rings, and gems. Even tied up as it were, Eddie had just let it grow down his back, only getting it dusted every few months to remove all the dead ends. He could have had anyone do his hair, anyone at all, could have flown in the best stylists in the world, but no. He’d asked Nancy to help him do his hair.

She’d told him the same thing, that he could get anyone to do it, but… he’d just smiled, told her they had similar hair, and that he trusted her to do it. She hadn’t let him down. She’d spent weeks researching braiding techniques because she knew he wanted it braided, spent ages working with one of those little mannequin heads with the hair to figure out how the gems, the chains and the little hair rings would fit into the style he wanted it to go in.

And only when she was confident that she could do it, did she attempt it on him. And that was two nights before at an impromptu hair rehearsal when she’d shown up with her bag of things to make sure what she’d done on the mannequin could be replicated with his hair.

It’d worked like a dream, she’d even managed to allow for a few messy curls to come loose from the braid, so they framed his face in effortless beauty that actually took a lot of effort. “I’m going to remember you said that at your wedding, see if you can sit still when you’re about to marry the love of your life. I feel like I’m being electrocuted but like… in a good way?”

“How can you be electrocuted in a good way?”

“Oh Nance, we gotta introduce you to the joys of electrostimulation, I’ll send you some links.”

“Please don’t, we had to get the scissors involved last time you sent me links to your kink stuff, honestly, Robin and ropes do not go well together.” There’d been knots, and not the fun kind, more the kitten trapped in a ball of yarn kind. “Almost dooone aaaand—” she slid one more bobby pin in place “finished!”

“Well… how do I look?” He turned in the chair to look at her, to look at her warm smile and emotional eyes. He’d already had his usual makeup team from his tours in to help him on that front, the crew invited as welcome guests but also helpy helpers in some parts. They’d covered his blemishes, however few he may have had, mattified his skin so the camera wouldn’t catch any oily spots lit up by the lights, and they’d gone the extra mile with his eyes. They’d been smoked with a dark shadow pallet, black blending into brown, into a warm honey gold the closer it got to his cornea his under eye lined with a soft brown, his lashes enhanced only a little by mascara to make sure it all blended together seamlessly.

He hadn’t needed anything on his lips, just a light swipe of a highlight over his cupids bow was always enough for his lips.

“You look beautiful, Eddie… Steve isn’t gonna know what hit him. Now let’s get you dressed and out there before Steve beats you down the aisle.” They’d already decided that Steve would be the one to walk down the aisle to him, followed by his Best Ma’am, Robin, and his groomsmaids an man, Max, Eleven, Erica, and Lucas. Preceded by their little flower girl Teresa Henderson, who’d sworn not to use her budding telekinesis to throw flowers everywhere.

Eleven would be watching that five-year-old like a hawk though.

She’d spent too long making sure that clearing looked as beautiful as it did to have her little demon child ruin it by whipping up a flower tornado. Too long lifting lanterns up to branches, too long artfully weaving string lights between the oranges, browns, and yellows of the leaves on the trees, letting some drape and some not. She’d spent too long ensuring all the benches they’d used as makeshift pews were arranged perfectly spaced to give everyone just enough leg room.

No flower tornado. Even if it would be extremely cool any other time.

The guests were beginning to arrive, walking down the long well-lit pathway from where they’d set up parking, Eddie had wanted a woodland fall wedding with elvish touches, and given Steve would bend to anything Eddie wanted if he bat his lashes cutely enough, the woodland fall wedding with nerdy elvish touches was happening.

It was extravagant, it would have cost a fortune to set up had Eleven not been there since the early afternoon setting it all up, it meant he got his way with his suit, a beautiful black tunic with faint dark grey brocade embellishments in the thick fabric, the cuffs held closed by silver cufflinks in the shape of D20’s, a high collar, open just enough to give his Adams apple room to breathe, hugging his neck.

The pants beneath it weren’t entirely visible but he’d gone for pants just tight enough around his ankles so he could wear his black calf-length harness boots over them, for ‘the look.’

It didn’t matter though, because nobody, not a single person would be looking at him when that music eventually started. A faint acoustic version of the march played by Jeff, Frank on base beside him adding depth to the gentle melody.

The little flower girl, her curls bouncing with each step as she carefully spread little yellow and white flower petals across the carpeted walkway, all the way down until she reached Nancy at the front who welcomed her and helped her to her own special seat at the front. And then, Eddie had to remind himself to breathe.

Steve.

He’d had no idea what Steve would look like on the day, they’d stuck to tradition, kept the outfits a secret and hadn’t seen each other for a whole twenty-four hours, even though that’d sucked. Now he wished he’d have gotten a heads up.

He looked like royalty, ethereal in his beauty, dressed in a similar style to Eddie, only his was white, a white tunic, golden in its embellishments, made even more beautiful by the cape pinned at his neck made of a thin gradient lace fabric that gently drifted across the floor, white and gold in its colour, embellished by golden glitter and starry patterns, in his hands a pretty arrangement of flowers in colours matching the petals little Teresa had decorated the walkway with.

He didn’t need makeup, he didn’t need anything but the clothes he was wearing, just looking at him was putting Eddie at risk of ruining his own makeup. He could feel the sting in his eyes, could see the watery distortion at the bottom of his vision, he breathed in sharply, the hand of their officiant, the grouchy old Chief himself, who’d gotten himself ordained purely to officiate that wedding, and Nancy and Robin’s whenever the hell they decide to tie that knot, on his shoulder, in a bid to ground him.

“Breathe kid.” Were his wise words, reminding Eddie that yes, air was required.

“It’s too hard, gonna asphyxiate.” Hopper only answered with a soft chuckle, and then Steve was there, their groomsmen and women at their sides, Robin, Max, Eleven, Erica, and Lucas at Steve’s, Dustin, Mike, Will, Nancy and Gareth at Eddie’s. Jeff and Frank lingering at the back to play them out at the end.

It all just sort of… tuned out after that, he couldn’t not focus entirely on Steve, on his smiling face, the happiness in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, the way the lights dangling in the treetops above made not just his outfit shimmer but his eyes too, he knew he should have been looking at Hopper as the man did his best to go through the standard opening words, to welcome their guests, to read out a little speech that Joyce had absolutely helped him to write that perfectly, leaving out all the monster bits, encapsulated just how much he cared for those two men, how he wished he could have been the one to walk Steve down that dumb aisle but he’d had to stay up front to do his actual job, something that had a tear slip from Steve’s eye and a soft laugh escape his lips.

He spoke of all the times he’d caught Eddie being a menace as a teenager, and how proud he was to see how much Eddie had grown up since then, even if it weren’t actually all that much, even a little bit was enough.

And then came the important part, the part Eddie had rehearsed so many times in the mirror he knew it better than one of his own songs.

“As you can probably imagine, our two grooms have chosen to write their own vows, so, without further ado as I know we’re all sick of hearin me speak… Eddie, i believe you wanted to go first.” Eddie took a deep breath. In, and out, before turning to Steve, the man mirroring him, his smile only widening as he witnessed that deep breathe.

“You got this, Bambi” he whispered with a cheeky wink, a direct crit hit to Eddie’s heart.

“Okay. Ehem… Wise men say that only fools rush into love.” Eddie began with a small grin that reached his eyes and made them sparkle in mischievous glee over his successful inclusion of song lyrics into his vows. Steve merely rolled his eyes in fond amusement, a smile seemingly permanently glued to his lips. “But I’m happy to report, that I’m no fool, although many would argue otherwise” a soft laugh erupted across the makeshift pews lining their little clearing, across the smiling faces of their friends, their families, their joy illuminated by the lanterns delicately dangling from the treetops overhead and the warm white string lights woven between branches between them. “I don’t think anyone can call nursing a love for half of the time I’ve lived as rushing it.”

Steve’s smile grew just a little wider, his hands gently squeezing around Eddie’s in a quiet show of support, as if he had ever needed support to talk.

“You came to me at my lowest, Steve, at my most frightened, and alone, you offered me warmth in your smile, safety in your words of comfort, and you supported me even though we’d definitely gotten off on the wrong foot.” Through sheer stupidity, assumptions of ones’ character, and jealousy over sharing their shared little brother. Not to mention the broken bottle to the throat. “Broken bottles, dorky little brothers, end of the world, you know.” Out of the corner of his eye he caught Joyce Byers gently waving her hand at Karen Wheeler as a simple ‘don’t worry about it’ gesture.

“I know” Steve quietly uttered with a gentle nod, his teary-eyed smile unwavering.

“You showed me what love is, Steve… you gave it so selflessly to anyone who needed it, welcomed them into your arms and kept them safe from harm even at the cost of your own safety. You’re like that single beam of warm sunlight through a break in the curtains on a cold winter morning.”

“And you’re the tiny little kitten that falls asleep in it.”

“Baby you get me so well.” He’d fallen asleep on top of Steve many a time and he always awoke warm, comforted, safe in a way that words simply could not explain.

“It’s a weird and wonderful gift.”

“Anyway, shh let me finish.” Steve’s smile widened a fraction as he nodded, lifting one hand up to his lips in a zip motion. “You adorable little shit. Ehem, as I was saying before I was so adorably interrupted. So, in light of how utterly perfect you are Steve Harrington, as there is no way on Earth, I will ever be able to pull off what you do so naturally for me every day, my vows to you will be to do my best every single gods-be-damned day, to be deserving of you. To never make you feel less than the most important person, the most important thing in my very crazy life. I vow to love you long after we become cranky old ghosts haunting our old stomping grounds because after everything we’ve seen, I flatly refuse to believe that I could stop loving you at death. I vow to never rearrange your hair stuff in the bathroom during my ‘rare as a unicorn’ cleaning sprees” at Steve’s fondly raised brow, Eddie tacked on a sheepish “again.” That earned another chuckle from their families. “I vow to give you all the applause, when you do something ridiculously badass so that you never feel underappreciated for the sheer awesome that is you in a crisis.”

“I am pretty badass, you are correct.” Robin, Steve’s Best Ma’am fondly rolled her eyes behind Steve.

“Shhh, I vow to pay attention to each and every one of your moles when I kiss them goodnight, even that one” Steve rolled his eyes, another soft laugh carrying through their audience “and finally, the most important one out of all of them… I vow to always leave the cap on the toothpaste instead of sending you on a treasure hunt for it every morning.” He’d somehow left it in the fridge at one point. Steve refused to let him live it down.

“Score” Steve quietly fist pumped.

“So, Steven Anthony Harrington, love of my life, I take you, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have, and to hold, in sickness, and in health, for richer, and for poorer, for as long as we both shall live and beyond because fuck you, death, I’ve kicked your butt once and I’ll do it again.” He held his hand backwards toward Dustin, who deposited a subtle weight into his palm to be carefully slid into place on Steve’s finger. “To you I make this vow.” The ring a solid gold, oxidized at the surface to darken the metal, it had a raised texture made of gold dust randomly fused to the dark metal, creating starburst patterns across its surface as though the sun itself were trying to burst through the dark. “I love you, Steve… I love you so much.” His voice finally cracking at the end as he allowed the tears to gather where he’d been holding them back for as long as he could.

“I love you too, Eddie.” Steve whispered back, squeezing his hands once more, ignoring the single happy tear that fell from his own eyes, letting it fall.

“Steve?” Hopper’s gruff voice prompted Steve to begin his own.

“Right, one second.” He breathed inward through his nose sharply taking a hankie he’d wisely chosen to keep in his pocket out to dab it at his eyes, he could do this, he had his friends, his family, he had everyone he loved right there in that clearing, and he had Eddie, looking practically ethereal in the lights twinkling around him. He could do this, he’d spent weeks sitting with Nancy just trying to get the damn things to sound right, then an extra week rehearsing them so he wouldn’t have to pull out the papers they were written on. “I—uh…” He could do this, he could absolutely do this, he could—

“Baby, are they written on paper?” Eddie’s eyes were so soft, his words quiet enough so that only those at the front could hear him, Steve nodded “then read them from the paper, it’s okay.” Eddie gently lifted Steve’s hands to his lips and pressed a kiss atop his knuckles. Some things were hard when you’d suffered two too many concussions, Eddie never made him feel bad for not being able to do certain things sometimes, for needing days out of the spotlight, for needing moments to himself, for just… needing naps sometimes.

“I got you, Steve” Robin spoke in hushed tones as she offered the small number of pages to him, which he accepted gratefully. Now. Now he could do this.

“I wish I’d have gone first now, following that? Pfft, terrifying.” But then Eddie was the main lyric writer, lead vocals, and lead guitarist for Corroded Coffin, not to mention still the main DM for Hellfire so. He should have expected as much. Eddie gently squeezed the hand he still had hold of in an attempt to ease his nerves, it worked. “I’m not the best with words, so… forgive me.” The crows-feet at the corners of Eddie’s eyes only crinkled more as his smile widened, dimples on full display, nothing but love in that smile.

“For the longest time, I didn’t understand you, Eddie, when we were dumb teenagers still in school, you were this loud kid I could never wrap my head around, you played nerd games, and listened to music that made my head hurt even before the head trauma, you were an enigma that I didn’t try hard enough to figure out until you crashed into my life with a broken bottle to my throat that made me think things that didn’t belong in my brain in that particular moment.” He saw Hopper roll his eyes at their side, but Eddie was sniggering, so he ignored Hopper.

“We were pushed together through circumstance, and although that could have lead to us clashing, it could have led to resentment, you were just so easy to like. You never made me feel stupid for asking ill-timed silly questions” you have a car we don’t know about? Or, where’d you learn how to do that? As more than sufficient examples but god there’d been so many more since then. “You always so patiently just explained stuff to me without ever making me feel less than those around me, it was so easy to find myself drawn to you even if at the time, I didn’t really understand why.” He’d had a crush, a ridiculously ill-timed crush on a traumatised boy wrapped up in chaos, then after it was all finished, the crush had stayed, it’d stayed, it’d blossomed, he’d fallen deeper and deeper until resurfacing became impossible.

“You take the time to support me and lift me up in so many little ways and honestly, I don’t think you even really notice you do it. Like… you always remember where I put my glasses, even though you can never remember where you put your keys, you have like, this sixth sense for my migraines, like you know they’re coming before even I do—”

“You have this—”

“Don’t ruin the illusion, Bambi, just let me believe you’re magic.”

“Okay.”

“You make every space a home, Eddie, even that big empty house felt like home whenever you were in it, not because of anything you did, or anything you said, but because you, just you being your perfectly silly self, you are my home. You like to call me the sun, Eddie, but I’m nothing but the moon… I just reflect whatever warmth you give me. Without you I’m cold.” That mischievous little grin on Eddie’s face had softened, those beautiful brown Bambi eyes wide yet filled with warmth and emotion, shimmering with tears he’d previously shed and tears he seemed like he was about to shed.

“So, my vows to you are these… Eddie, I vow to support you, in every endeavour you take, be it music, be it writing, be it playing DnD until the early hours of the morning even when you know you have to be up at 6am to catch a flight. To never roll my eyes when you attempt to slip your nerdy references into our love life, I vow to never again ask you to play basketball with us, even if Lucas begs me to because I know you’ll selflessly say yes and suffer the entire time.”

There were pictures on the internet now. So many pictures. The Corroded Coffin fanbase found them all deeply amusing.

Lucas, now playing for some big-league team, had even signed one at his last signing event, almost choking with laughter when it turned up in front of him.

“I vow to continue, every day, to love you, and cherish you, and kiss both of those dimples at every available opportunity, awh yeah there they are~” Eddie ducked his head with an embarrassed little laugh, lifting one hand to his face to hide behind it, that didn’t last long though, because Steve curled his fingers around it and eased it away “nuh-uh, I wanna see that beautiful face when I do this.” Robin deposited into his waiting hand as she took the papers away, the ring that he’d specifically purchased out of his own left-over Harrington fund, the one he’d wisely kept in a separate bank account that the government had left alone when they’d seized his father’s assets.

He'd kept it from Eddie, hidden it away, because he wanted to see his face the first time he laid eyes on it. It was Mokume Gane in design, golds and silvers merged and shaped until the surface of the ring resembled an intricate wood grain effect, which on its own would have been beautiful, but it hadn’t been enough, it hadn’t been Eddie enough, so he’d had the words ‘One ring to seal our love, And forever to entwine us’ engraved around the outer ring in a beautiful elvish script, which Dustin had written down for him properly so the engraver could do it justice.

The expression of awe on his face when Steve slid it onto his waiting finger was more than worth the teasing he’d received from Dustin over how nerdy the whole thing was. “Steve…” Eddie breathed, eyes wide on the metal as they took in the beautifully curved writing, the intricate strokes, the pattern in the metal “you… you—”

“Yes, I did a nerdy thing for you, shh. I love you Eddie Munson, I will always love you, from now until forever, that is my vow to you.” And there were the tears, Eddie looking at him eyes shimmering and bright, beautifully reflecting all the lights around them more so than the twinkling little gems and trinkets tied into his hair.

“Ehem” Hopper cleared his throat “Eddie Munson, do you take this man—”

“I do.” Hopper didn’t chastise him for interrupting, even if he had interrupted the legal vows part.

“Steve Harrington, do you—”

“Without hesitation, I do.”

“Jesus Christ, well alright I suppose you’ve waited long enough, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you finally married! Good luck boys, Steve, stick one on him would you so we can all get drunk.” Eddie didn’t resist in the slightest when Steve took his hand and pulled him in, he went willingly, pliant in Steve’s grip as the man twisted and dipped him, Eddie’s laughter almost musical in its beauty, his free hand lifting to cup Steve’s jaw as the man leaned in to close the distance between them, their families, their friends erupting in cheers as lips touched

“Much better than your first wedding, right?” Eddie cheekily murmured against Steve’s lips, barely parting from them they still brushed as he spoke

“Oh, be quiet.”

With a widening grin, Eddie whispered “Okay” right back, before Steve sealed their lips together once more in the second of many kisses, as Mr and Mr. Steve, and Eddie Munson.

~THE END~

because they all love and hate each other to varying degrees like patrick loves tennis and tashi and art but art the most and art loves tennis and patrick but he loves tashi the most and tashi loves tennis the most but none of them can have the thing they want most so they use one another to get closer to it and in the aftermath end up resenting each other for what could have been

rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to lovers | fame au p6 (final part)

p1 p2 p3 p4 p5 interlude

Steve thinks about second chances, as he walks along Greenwich Ave. He thinks about them when he tosses the wig in a garbage can that reeks of puke. 

And he thinks about them, when Eddie opens the door, eyes catching on the rip in Steve’s jeans, the liner under his eyes. When he lights up & says, “You came.”

Yeah, Steve thinks about second chances.

He offers Eddie a small smile as he walks in, can’t bring himself to acknowledge it all. The world of them. Him going. Eddie playing that song.  What that could mean, like, actually mean. Can’t do it yet.

He likes this place better than the mansion in LA. It’s messy and grungy with stupid, corny shit plastered on the walls. Feels more… Eddie.

They walk out to the balcony. It overlooks a tiny little green space, his neighbors’ homes. Eddie lights a cigarette and offers one to Steve. Steve quit years ago. Eddie knows that now. He takes it anyway. 

“Last tour I sold out Madison Square Garden and now I sell out Forest Hills.” Eddie’s chuckling, “Like I’m back at the trailer park.”

Eddie’s third album didn’t do the numbers his first two had. So they’d downsized, just a little.

Steve sighs, he didn’t fly all the way out here to coddle his ex, “It was a good show, Eddie.” 

“Yeah.” He drags, smiles to himself. “It was a really good show. I’m really glad you saw it, baby.”

Steve cringes, full body shiver. Eddie doesn’t seem to realize what he said, Steve’s sure as hell not gonna clue him in.

“How’d your meeting go?”

Steve tries to play it off. “Good. Pretty good.”

Eddie chuckles again, leans into him that way he always does, like personal space is more of a suggestion than a boundary. A hand brushes his cheek, a light, teasing tap of knuckles, “What’s pretty good, Harrington?”

Steve smiles into it. Can’t help it. “There’s uh… you know that blacklist script I mentioned last month? There’s probably a lead there for me.”

Eddie lights up again, bright and true, “Steve, that’s amazing.”

Steve snorts, “Not jealous?”

“Nah, I’m happy for you ba-” Eddie catches it this time, chokes on his drag, coughs and flounders, “Happy for you, man.” 

Steve’s not sure if he can do this, actually. Can’t face this Eddie. The one whose ego isn’t a storm cloud, who’s okay failing, who’s okay seeing him succeed. Who’s honest and sincere and wants the best for him. Eddie who would lose thousands of fans just to sing Steve’s favorite song. 

Eddie’s eyes are shiny, “But you’ve been good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Good. Keeping busy. I filmed an Amex commercial. Good money. Made my agents happy.” He’s rambling around it. He squints into the dark, drops it casually as he can muster. “I’m gonna start seeing that country singer, probably. The one with that Kansas song? Our people are setting something up.”

Eddie’s face falls, the sun out with a sentence. “What are we doing here, Harrington?”

Steve’s tone is bleary, sheepish, “What?”

“Been losing my mind this last month. Can’t stand not having you around. But you- you’re dating?”

It’s a shrug, it’s all he's got, “Sure.”

Eddie’s hunched, shoulders tight. He talks small. “You told me you loved me. Before you left.”

Steve huffs a breath. The air is cold. “C’mon. You were like, obliterating my brain with your dick. I say impulsive shit like that all the time.”

He doesn’t. They both know that. 

Eddie clicks his teeth, shakes a whisper. “Nah. You don’t.”

Steve falters, trips on his tongue. He finds his voice low and hoarse, he can barely say it, “Please don’t hold me to it.” 

Eddie won’t look him in the eye. He blinks up at the sky, “I love you. For the record. I um, I never stopped. Guess I’ve been pretty obvious about it.”

“Eddie, c’mon. Don’t do this. It’s not fair.”

“Date Dorothy.” His laugh is glacial. “I don’t mind. It won’t be real, right? Those things never fucking are.”

“I don’t know– it could be.” The ground’s falling under Steve’s feet. “Down the line, or whatever.”

Something cracks, crumples. “I had you. God fucking damnit. I had you and I–”

Steve’s not expecting the sobs until they happen. Flemmed and shaky and pathetic. Those brown eyes silver-wet like moons. 

Eddie pushes his palms into his cheeks. “Sometimes, after you leave, I just stare up at the ceiling and try to invent like, time travel or something. Just to go back and slap the shit outta myself. I was a goddamn coward. Couldn’t face it. Could talk around it, sure. Write it into my songs like that was honest. But, nah, I couldn’t look in the mirror. Definitely couldn’t look at you. I’m facing it now. I need you to know that. It won’t fix all shit I did, won’t fix the stupid fucking way I tried to fix it the first time. It’s there, it’s out, hell, it’s goddamn double platinum.” He sputters it out miserable, “But I am trying. Even if this– if we can’t. Need you to know I’m facing it now. I want to be better.”

Then Eddie looks right at him, looks at Steve like looking is enough to break his heart. “And I don’t wanna be selfish anymore cause it’s poison, Steve. But fuck. I know I don’t deserve it but if you’ll have me, I’ll– I’m there. Whatever way you’ll take me.”

“Eddie.” Steve doesn’t know why he’s here. Why he keeps digging this wound, ripping out stitches.

“Please? Can’t walk away again. Don’t have it in me.”

“Yeah.” Steve laughs. “You only do that when it’s easy.”

Eddie flinches. Shoves a ringed hand into a pocket. “Too late, huh?”

Steve scratches the back of his head and turns on his heel, “We can’t keep doing this.”

He gets as far the kitchen. Eddie quicksteps in front of the counter, blocks his out. But he’s cowering, ducking his head. “Did you um, like the song?”

It swells up all at once, that bone-deep cruelty of it. A gust turned tsunami. “Not really, Ed. Kinda broke my fucking heart.”

“Shit,” Eddie clicks. “Yeah, I, um, I’m not all that good at the grand gesture thing. Probably should have figured that out by now.”

Steve lets it all in. The red that’s been thrumming through his body since this whole thing started. Lets it possess him. He pushes into Eddie’s space, callous and cruel. “You’re really fucking me up, here. Do you know that?”

“I– I’m not trying to.” Eddie blinks. Frustratingly earnest. 

“What we’re doing– Whatever this is. It makes me feel pathetic. I’d be the dumbest asshole on the planet if I took you back.” He’s screaming now. The balcony door is still open. He doesn’t care if anyone hears. He wants them to hear.

Eddie’s lip is shaking. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.” Steve murmurs. The red’s coming off in whisps, quicker than it ever had, easier than it should. 

Eddie’s smile is weak. His face is wet. “I know.”

“You ruined me.” He leans in, finds half a punch in it. Last one he’s got. 

Eddie closes his eyes, brow furrowed. “I know.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” He’s tired. Bone tired. Tired of the ache that only ever seems to go away around, well–

Eddie’s guilt is plain. It's all of him. “I’m sorry.”

Steve takes a breath. He thinks about second chances.

“You really want to be with me?”

Eddie looks at him like he’s already burrowed in. Ribs and guts and blood. “Got my priorities way out of whack for a minute there. Jesus, way too many minutes there. But yeah. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.  You’re it for me, Stevie.”

Steve groans, taps his forehead lightly against a shelf. Eddie’s hand lands steady at his arm, awkward and cautious and right. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“No.” Eddie says soft. “You’re not.”

“Yeah, I am.” Steve shakes his head. Waves a finger into Eddie’s chest. “You sang Dave fucking Matthews.”

“Don’t remind me, man. They’re gonna start shattering my CDs.” He pauses, sincere as ever. ‘I, uh, wouldn’t take it back though.”

Steve groans again, presses his head into Eddie’s shoulder. “No, you don’t get it. You sang Dave Matthews and now I’m gonna have to call my team and tell them it’s not gonna happen with the country singer.”

Eddie blubbers, big Saturday morning cartoon recalibration. “You’re– what?”

Steve shrugs, catches his eye. “Now I’m gonna have to talk about my coming out journey with Angie at People and dude, she’s been on my ass about it for years. Total sore winner.”

He’s shaking his head, “Harrington… Steve. Stevie.”

But Steve keeps rattling on, “I’m gonna have to tip off the paparazzi that Dark Pines star Steve Harrington was spotted sneaking into Eddie Munson’s brownstone at midnight for a secret rendezvous. Gonna have to go for a jog around the block first thing tomorrow, with like, more hickeys than a teen who just got their first girlfriend.”

“You’ve really thought about this, huh?”

Eddie’s back pushes into the edge of the kitchen counter. And Steve thinks about that photo that forced them together again, about Eddie’s easy grin, about the soft adoration high on his cheeks, about never being so young. He thinks about fucking up and growing up and growing apart and changing. And he smiles against chapped lips that taste like cigarettes and coming home.

And he says, “Gonna have to find someone to give me the hickeys.”

And Eddie lights up like the sun, “I know a guy.”

And Steve, well, he thinks about second chances. 

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im sure lots of people will listen to TTPD and discount it because she talks about matty in it (and ofc people have their valid issues with him, but im not gonna go into that), but the whole lead up to the album has been “we’re investigating,” and imo a lot of us took that as her saying “we’re investigating why my relationship ended” whereas the album is actually about “we’re investigating this caricature of a girl who went through something life-changing, and she has apparently gone crazy” and she’s basically done a public autopsy of herself; something that the media/fans/public have done since the beginning, but this time around she was like “i’ll do it to myself.”

hence, the album aesthetic feels so sterile too imo. she’s trying to distance herself from the subject but!!!!!! she is the subject. and in conclusion, i think what she’s really putting down is “the summary of the investigation of this girl is that she went insane because of what happened to her, but it’s hopefully gonna be okay”

sidenote: i think what we need to take away from the album is to… let her live…