Wrong Number, Right Person

What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Prompt from @devious-kitten

Steve had a mild interest in DnD as a freshmen because of a cousin or something. The interest was killed by Eddie being mean since Steve is a jock. Post vecna Eddie finds dust covered DnD handbook Steve explains and Eddie faces a still hurt Steve as a results of his biases

((Half written fic, half rambling about how it would go down. Apologies for the formatting. Also I added more angst than the prompt called for hehe))

Steve has always loved sports. This is a well-known fact. He's played on some sort of sports team from the time he was old enough for his parents to be able to sign him up.

A lesser-known fact is that Steve loves fantasy. Or, at least, he used to. On the playground in elementary school, Steve could often be found playing knights and dragons, and it was anyone's guess if he would be a knight or a dragon on any particular day.

The summer between middle and high school, Steve spent with his grandparents from his mother's side, on the farm they'd retired on in Michigan. A month long stay that he'd shared with his cousins, Amber, Robert, and Christopher. Amber and Robert are twins, four years younger than Steve, and Christopher was two years older and infinitely cooler than anyone else Steve knew.

Christopher was on the varsity basketball team at his high school when he was just a sophomore, captain of the JV football team, president of the chess club, and in a games club.

Christopher was everything Steve wanted to be now that he was going to be in high school. Minus the chess club because

It was during that summer, Steve got to indulge in playing make believe for another summer with his younger cousins, without the judgement of people (his father and peers) who thought he was too old for such things. He also got to learn about make believe for older kids, because Christopher played a game called Dungeons and Dragons with his game club the last month of school before summer break and spent many evenings going over what had happened with Steve as a captive audience.

"I wish I'd brought the books," Christopher had whispered to him one night from the bed, peaking over to look down at Steve in his sleeping bag on the floor, "we could have played."

Steve wishes he'd brought the books, too.

At the end of July, Christopher, Amber, and Robert's parents show up to pick them up, five days before Steve's scheduled flight to Indianapolis. It's a sad goodbye because one summer a year isn't enough with his cousins but they live in Washington. Steve's always jealous their parents drive all the way to pick them up, but a little proud he gets to brag about how he's flown alone since he was seven. No one else in his class can brag about that.

His mom picks him up in Indianapolis and they go back to school shopping while there.

A week later, Steve receives a package from Christopher. Inside Steve finds Advanced Dungeons and Dragons books, three of them, and even though Christopher said nothing about advanced, he's sure he can manage. On the inside cover of the players handbook, Christopher has written:

Hey Steve, I think you'd rock playing a dwarf paladin. Let's play next summer? Christopher 1981

He spends the last three weeks of summer vacation reading the player handbook cover to cover and making a character. It's slow going, because letters don't stay where they're supposed to be on the page (that's a problem he's had his whole life, so he's not surprised but he is determined), and he's never been good at math, so getting the stats down on paper isn't easy. He can't decide what he wants to play, so he makes two characters; an elf magic-user and, of course, a dwarf paladin.

(He's a little disappointed you can't be a dragon.)

Steve's never been one to dread the first day of school, but he's never actually looked forward to it, either. It's just been another day.

Until today.

Today is his first day as a high schooler. And the only people who go to the first day are Freshman, except the upper classman that have volunteered to man the booths for school activities for the last hour of the day. It's supposed to help the Freshman get the lay of the land without being overwhelming and Steve's excited for it. He needs to see if Hawkins High has a games club like Christopher's school does.

Here Steve is, that last hour of school. He's already been to the basketball booth, promising to sign up as soon as the season started, and the swim booth because he's got a pool at his house and has been swimming for as long as he can remember and knows he enjoys it. He also stops by the football booth even though he's never played, or cared much, for it. (Maybe he's trying to emulate Christopher, sue him.). So, the final thing is to see if Hawkins High offers a chess club and a game club.

Steve is delighted to see that, though there is no games club, there is a Dungeons and Dragons club! That delight wavers because of the kid manning the booth. His hair is curly and falls just below his ears, with big brown eyes. Steve hates to think it, but he'd be cute if he didn't look like he wanted to stab Steve.

"Yeah, no, keep walking," says the boy, pulling the flier with meeting information on it out from under Steve's hand, where he'd been attempting to read it.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was reading that."

"And I said no. Jocks don't play Dungeons and Dragons."

"I could," Steve says, offended. He squints at the name tag sticker slapped diagonally across the way too big jean vest this guy's wearing. E-d-d-i-e. Eddie.

"Have you ever played?"

"Well... no, but-"

"No buts. Mitch let a jock join last year and that was a nightmare. He could barely read the rule book. And with how you were squinting down at the flier, and then my name tag, you're not going to be much better."

Jokes on Eddie, Steve's already read the rule book. Even if it was slowly. "I can read just fine."

"Can you math, then? What's eight plus seven?"

"What?"

"Simple addition. Eight plus seven. What is it?"

Steve knows simple addition. This is fine. It doesn't matter than he's been put on the spot, and that math is hard for the same reason as reading. He can do this. His hand twitches with wanting to pull it up and use it to keep track. He's faster at math when he can do that, but this jerk is mean mugging him and he just knows if he moves his hand, this guy will mock him the rest of the school year.

Eight plus seven. Ok. Make it easier, get to ten. It takes adding two to the eight to get ten. Ok. Take that two away from the seven now. That makes... five! Ok. Ten plus five is-

"Dude, it's fifteen," Eddie snaps.

"I knew that!"

Scoff. "Right. How about seventeen plus six."

Steve can feel his face turning red with embarrassment but he's not going to let this jackass be right. Round up. It takes three to get seventeen to twenty, so take three away from the six-

"23. Point proven. Go. Away. Go play your jock games and leave me- us alone."

Steve opens his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, that he can do this, and that, more importantly, he wants to do this, but laughter cuts through the air and for the first time, Steve notices the audience that has gathered. Three people are laughing at him, and his inability to do mental math, and it makes Steve snap his jaw shut and swallow.

"Mental math isn't that hard, Steve," one of them, Brant, says, as he elbows the guy next to him.

"Thank you!" Eddie says, "that's what I'm saying."

"Whatever, man, like I'd want to play make believe at this age anyway," Steve mutters and rushes away.

If, two weeks later, Steve watches Kyle trip who he now knows is Eddie 'The Freak' Munson in the bathroom, and drag him into a stall for a swirly, well, no he didn't. He briefly thinks of saying something to stop Kyle, but shoves the words down and instead turns on heel and leaves that bathroom just as the sound of flushing and Eddie yelling start. The thick bathroom door does a good job of muffling the noise and if Steve feels any guilt about that, he shoves that down, too.

Besides, Kyle's the captain of the basketball team and if Steve wants a chance to be on that team, he can't stay anything. It's a well-known fact that Steve likes sports, after all. He's going to stick to that. Screw Eddie Munson and his Dungeons and Dragons club.

Steve will get to play Dungeons and Dragons with Christopher next summer.

Except, halfway through the school year, Steve and his parents quickly board a plane bound for Washington. Turns out being as perfect as Christopher was is hard. Overwhelming.

They arrive the day before the funeral, and fly out right after it. Steve barely has time to mourn before they're shuffling him back to school that Monday.

Christopher died, and with him, so does Steve's desire to be just like him. He quits the football team. He keeps basketball because he does like it, even without Christopher's influence. He can't bring himself to get rid of the Dungeons and Dragons books, but he can't look at them, either. They end up in the downstairs hall closet, forgotten on the shelf.

So, years later, after rising to the top of the food chain (no one was ever going to embarrass him like Eddie Munson had again) and then falling to the bottom (who cares about high school popularity when interdimensional monsters exist) and of course, the years of fighting against said interdimensional monsters before ending it all in spring of '86, Steve finds himself, unwillingly, agreeing to host Hellfire since the school banned the club following the events of spring break.

Damn Dustin Henderson. Steve usually has the backbone to say no but Dustin had to play up 'getting a chance to finally just be kids' and fuck, how was Steve going to say no to that? Despite how quickly his own desire to be a freshman playing Dungeons and Dragon had been squashed, he can't be the one to ruin this for them.

"Thanks for hosting, man," Eddie says when Steve lets him in. He's an hour early but had asked if that was okay. Apparently the dungeon master has a lot of prep to do? Not that Steve would know.

"Sure," Steve says, dismissively, because while Eddie and he went through hell together, and Steve carried his sorry ass out of the Upside Down, Steve can't quite let his guard down around him.

It's funny. In the Upside Down, Eddie had made a point to tell him he's changed, is a 'good dude' now. So, what's funny is how much Eddie is exactly the same person he was five years ago. He was an ass to Steve five years ago, and as far as Steve is concerned, was also an ass to Lucas for wanting to play basketball just this year.

He swears to God, if he hears one negative thing about Lucas tonight, he's punching Eddie unconscious, no matter what the rest of Hellfire will do or say about it.

Eddie's been in his dining room for maybe five minutes before he finds Steve in the living room. Steve's got a movie playing but he couldn't tell you which one. He's not really watching it.

"Do you got a table cloth for that big table? Jeff's got a set of metal dice and I'd feel like a real ass if we scratched it on accident."

Steve takes a deep breath before answering. He hates that Eddie is considerate like this, has been since spring break if Steve's being honest, but he doesn't want to see Eddie's good qualities. So, he waves in the direction of the closet. "Yeah. There should be some in the hall closet there. Help yourself."

"Thanks."

He twists on the couch to watch Eddie cross the room to the closet door, listens as the door creaks opens, hears the quiet, pleased noise Eddie lets out when his eyes land on the stack of table clothes. Steve continues to watch as Eddie just grabs the whole stack and yanks them off the top shelf.

Which means his watching as the stack of non-fabric objects, which must have been half atop the table clothes, also tumble out of the closet, bouncing off various parts of Eddie. It's a bunch of miscellaneous items. However, Steve realizes with horror, the book that bounces off Eddie's head is his copy of the Monster Manual. Eddie has stepped back in surprise (and possibly pain), so the Dungeon Master Guide and the Players Handbook bounce off his torso and leg before landing on the ground.

"Fuck," Eddie curses, before he stares down at what just assaulted him. Steve just stares at Eddie, watching as he slowly comes to comprehend what he's seeing. He watches as Eddie bends down and grabs the Player Handbook, the last thing to fall, from a top the pile. "What the-"

Steve stands, suddenly defensive, but doesn't actually say anything or move closer. He just watches as Eddie examines the book, flipping it from front to back in his hand like the title will change if he does that enough times.

Then, Eddie turns to him, bewildered. "Present for one of the kids? Thought they all had their own copies."

"No."

Eddie flips the book open. Reads the words written in there so many years ago. "Who's Christopher? Wait. 1981? You were playing D&D in 1981?"

"None of your business, and no," Steve says, now kicking into action, stomping up to Eddie and snatching the book from his hands.

Eddie hold his hands up in defense before his eyes turn mischievous. The same glint in them now that was there when Eddie'd leaned into this space in the RV and called him big boy. "Are you lying to me, Stevie? You've played before, haven't you?"

It makes Steve's blood boil. "No. I haven't played!"

"Alright. You could now, you know," Eddie says. And it's the way he says it, all nonchalant and like he's trying to be coy about it- it tips something over inside Steve. A bottle that held his humiliation and hurt from all those years ago.

"Oh, now I'm good enough for D&D? Now I can join? Aren't I too much of a jock for you!?"

"Whoa, what's with the hostility-"

"What's eight plus seven, Eddie!?" Steve snaps. His memory might be shit these days, with all the concussions, but the unfortunate part about Steve is that he always seems to remember the bad. And he remembers Freshman First Day like yesterday. "No? How about seventeen plus six? Come on, mental math isn't hard. Or don't you remember? I'm just a stupid jock too slow on the uptake, or no, what was it you said? It'll be a nightmare to play with me, 'cause I might be barely able to read the rules?"

He watches as Eddie's face morphs from confusion, to understanding and horror. "Holy shit, Steve. That was you- you wanted to join Hellfire-"

"Yeah, and you made it pretty fuckin' clear I didn't belong in it."

"I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have- if I'd known you, I never would have-"

"That's the problem, Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving the book in front of him. "You didn't know me. You looked at me and decided for me that I was going to be a jock and nothing else and then humiliated me in front of other people! You didn't even bother to try to know me. I spent three weeks reading this stupid book cover to cover because I knew I was shit at reading and I still wanted to try anyway."

He sees Eddie puffing up in anger. "Well, I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even!"

"Yeah, because I was a dumb, hurt kid who decided that it was better to hurt than be hurt. As if you weren't exactly the same that day, lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math. Fuck you, Munson!" Steve walks away, not hearing anything Eddie shouts after him as he sprints up the stairs and shuts himself in his room.

Steve knows he was a dick in high school, and it's not Eddie's fault he was a dick. Steve made choices he's not proud of and no one forced those choice on him. But Eddie doesn't get to throw that back in his face. Not when Eddie made him feel humiliated and stupid on the first goddamn day of high school, long before Steve became mean himself.

Diagnosed with Hanahaki, a genetic autoimmune disease, as a child, Steve has learned to live with it. Along the way, he finds a family and falls in love with Eddie. He is never cured, but he lives.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

After a few hours of talking, Steve decided what to do: for the next few days, he would just go to work as usual (after all, he couldn't miss any more) while his body began to adjust to the new medications, and once he felt more settled and at peace with himself, he would go to Eddie, then Hopper and Joyce, and then the kids.

In Robin's opinion, he should come out as soon as possible, but Steve thought it was a much better idea to alert Eddie about his health condition, see how he dealt with it, and only in a few weeks, after he had already gone through all the difficult conversations he knew he would have, talk about his feelings.

“What if he agrees to date me out of pity, Robin? I couldn’t stand it.”

“Eddie has a lot of feelings for you, but pity isn’t one of them. He looks at you like he wants to put that whole ‘eat the rich’ thing into action.”

“Maybe, maybe.” Steve reluctantly agreed, only because he knew Robin had the best intentions, but he didn’t have the same perception he did. They were in the kitchen, Robin having demanded to make a healthy breakfast. “But he only knows me as a high school athlete and a…”

“Fighter in the Upside Down?” Robin offered. She was looking right at him, having abandoned the fruit she was cutting. “A protector? Hero?” She pointed at Steve with the knife, her knuckles white. Steve stared until Robin set the knife down on the counter.

“Yeah. A fighter, a hero, a protector. Whatever. That’s how he knows me.” Steve crossed his arms. “Someone capable. Physically, at least. I’ve never been very smart, we don’t have the same hobbies, I’m not as passionate about music as he is. I can’t even smoke if he wants to spend his time smoking.” He ran a hand through his hair, already feeling his chest tighten, his breath starting to run out. “I can’t even get a job without you to convince someone to hire me.”

“Steve…”

“I’m not saying I’m terrible or anything. I’m not, you know that, but the only thing that’s exceptional about me is this illness and my involvement with the Upside Down. If it happens again, I don’t think I’ll be any use. I won’t be the hero you’re talking about anymore. It would be too much to ask Eddie to want me right after finding out the truth. So I’ll tell him, but only after he understands what it means to have Hanahaki.”

The discussion ended there, with a hug and Robin admitting that he was right and betting that she was right too. Eddie was in love, she was sure of it.

Despite believing that she had everything planned and resolved, a few hours after Robin left, Steve saw his plans being ruined by a hesitant and quiet knock on the door, followed by two loud knocks and another slightly quieter one. Steve opened the door and saw Eddie, who looked strange, rocking on his toes and looking around as if he were being chased by Vecna ​​himself.

As soon as their eyes met, Eddie twisted his hair and asked if he could come in. Steve let him, because he couldn't deny Eddie anything, but he still didn't feel ready to face him.

Steve turned his back and walked to the kitchen, because at least he could pretend to be busy cooking, just so he wouldn't have to face Eddie head on.

At first, Eddie didn't say anything, just watched as Steve put vegetables on the counter.

"Did I do something?"

"Hmm?" Steve hummed without turning around.

"You've been avoiding everyone. Dustin said he talked to you on the phone, you checked on Max a few times, and I know you've been answering all the kids on the walkie-talkie."

"Yes."

“I don’t understand. I thought everything was fine. That we were fine.”

Eddie’s voice was so weak that, against his better judgment, Steve turned to him.

“We’re fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t…” Suddenly, his face turned as red as a tomato. “Didn’t I do anything to make you uncomfortable?”

And because he was a weak man, Steve leaned closer.

“No, of course not.” Steve smiled, wanting to make Eddie comfortable. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s been almost a month since we last saw each other.”

“I know.” The answer was so low and shaky that Eddie stopped playing with his hair.

“It was right after we left here, me and Wayne.” Eddie says, as if Steve didn’t know that. “I figured you might want some space, at first, because I can be pretty tiresome.”

“Nah, man, I never get tired of you.”

Eddie blushed again and looked pleased.

“Then I thought maybe you were upset about the move.”

“What? No, I know you guys need your own space. It’s not to offend me or anything.”

Eddie blinked owlishly and then laughed.

“Uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as me.”

“Ah!” Steve felt his face heat up. “Ah.”

With an appraising look, Eddie took a step forward. A huge step, which put the two of them almost chest to chest.

“Eddie…”

“I even thought you might have been hurt that you didn’t help unload our things when we moved, you know?”

“I wouldn’t be upset about something like that.” Steve mumbled, still not having the courage to walk away and wanting to run for the hills.

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie whispered almost inaudibly and Steve was forced to follow his mouth to understand. “That’s why I dismissed the idea.” Then he smiled and Steve had no doubt that he was caught ogling. “I couldn’t sleep well, because every time I woke up in the middle of the night, I remembered you.”

“Hm. Yeah. I… I almost looked for you last night, I guess I still haven’t gotten used to you moving, after all.”

Having regained consciousness, Steve prepared to step out of Eddie's bubble of personal space, but all he had to do was put one foot back and he was pulled back in. Despite the growing tension between them, the last thing he expected was to be kissed.

I warned you, Dingus! A voice sounding suspiciously like Robin resounded in his mind.

When Eddie tried to deepen the kiss, Steve remembered the bitter taste on his tongue, the traces of blood in his mouth, and felt disgusted and embarrassed. This time, it was easy to get some space.

For a few seconds, they didn't say anything, but Eddie looked so pale and scared, ready to run away, that Steve managed to force the words he had been dreading out of his mouth.

“I have Hanahaki.”

“What?” Eddie straightened up. “How? Who? Why?”

Although the questions were vague, Steve understood.

“My mom has it too. I was diagnosed when I was 9, almost 10.”

“10 years?” Eddie sighed. “10?”

Steve leaned against the kitchen counter, because he was tired, but he didn't want to have this conversation sitting down.

“Hanahaki?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” Steve nodded. Eddie, alarmed, began to pace back and forth, stopping to look at Steve every few steps. “Hanahaki, that disease with roots in the chest? That destroys the lungs? The love sickness?”

“It's not like I described it, but yes, that's it.”

“Who was it, Steve? Was it Nancy?”

“What? No, man.” Steve laughed a broken laugh. “I told you I've had Hanahaki since I was little, I didn't even know Nancy back then.”

“So, who…? Was it your p…?”

“I don't know if you know this, but Hanahaki has genetic factors, as well as environmental ones. It manifested itself in my mother, then in me.”

“Your mother has Hanahaki?!” He seemed increasingly incredulous.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now, and I think it needs to be now, before you say or do anything. Listen to everything I’m going to say, please.”

Eddie nodded in stunned silence.

“It’s scary, Eddie.” Steve said quietly, trying to find the right words. It was easier with Robin, maybe because he didn’t feel like he had to impress her, maybe because he already knew she would be by his side, maybe because he had left out so much. “Because I lived practically my entire life with Hanahaki. I don’t remember much of anything before the diagnosis, so I can’t compare it to… You know, a healthy body. I did a lot of things while I was sick, so I guess… I don’t know, I guess I thought I could do this, you know? That I could be strong all the time, that I could always run, be strong, that I… Geez, I said that before, right? Be strong.” Steve laughed humorlessly. “I could be an athlete who goes to the hospital almost every month and needs medication every day… I’ve had Hanahaki for 10 years. I’ve done a lot of things.” Eddie opened his mouth, but Steve held up a hand, so he pressed his lips together and waited. “I guess I didn’t even realize I was in the easy part. I didn’t stop to think about how much worse things would actually get, and I feel like it’s finally caught up with me.”

“Steve, you’re not going to die. You’re going to be okay, we’ll figure it out, anythi—”

“No, please. You have to listen, I’m just trying to think. It’s hard to talk about this. The only person who’s really listened to me is Robin, and we haven’t talked about it that much, so I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how I should say this, so it might take a while. I need to think.”

After a few moments of silence, Steve assessed Eddie. Before Vecna, Eddie had always been so full of life, so loud, so theatrical. Steve had noticed it at school and when he picked up the kids after the Hellfire Club. After the spring, he changed, as they all did. He carried an air of tragedy wherever he was, lost in thoughts of suffering, inspiring infinite sadness at times. But he never looked like this. So still, barely breathing, and yet so alert, so aware of everything. His eyes never stopped moving on Steve, almost as if he was waiting to be able to see Hanahaki.

Steve thought that if he wanted to, he could stay silent and Eddie wouldn’t argue, because people could give in so easily when they thought you were going to die with the slightest disturbance.

“I’m not going to be okay and I don’t want anyone to promise me that. Now I’m going to tell you because it’s scary. I thought a lot about how to tell you this… It’s scary because I’ve known Hanahaki for years, but this disease still surprises me. A few months ago, I was so much more capable than I am now. I’m losing things all the time. Basic, simple, easy things. Things that I once took for granted. That’s what you need to understand before you…”

Steve looked into Eddie's eyes and blushed, because he could hardly admit that there was something between them without being sure that everything was clear. Of course, that was when Hanahaki decided to act and he coughed until he bent over, barely able to breathe. Eddie approached uncertainly and trembling, but Steve just stepped back and took a Hanahaki inhaler. From his pocket, he took a handkerchief and spat out some blood with pieces of the roots half dissolved.

The silence stretched on.

"That's it. That wasn't even bad. But it wasn't normal either, I'm just going through a bad moment, but I'm already treating it, I'll get better, it just won't be the same as it was before Spring." Steve explained embarrassed. "I don't want you to commit to anything without being sure what you're getting into and I have no problem waiting."

Eddie grabbed Steve's hands, not caring about the handkerchief, which got his hands dirty too. His eyes, the first thing Steve noticed romantically, were huge and scared.

“Steve, I won't regret it, you don't have to worry about that.”

Although he appreciated the sentiment, Steve got irritated and pulled his hands away.

“Well, what I need now is to make sure you're sure.”

“Okay, whatever you want. I promise.”

“It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that you don't know what Hanahaki is like. I know what it's like.”

“I'll research it, I'll learn everything. I'll become an expert at this! I swear.” The promise drew a wet laugh from Steve and, as if by magic, Eddie felt infinitely lighter. His eyes lit up and he reached out his hands once more, hovering over Steve's arms. “Can I hug you?”

At Steve's nod, they approached. Very slowly and with uncharacteristic caution, Eddie placed his hands on Steve's back. Steve huffed out a laugh and squeezed Eddie tightly, pulling him even closer.

"I won't break."

After that, the conversation was vague. Steve figured Eddie had a million questions, but he settled for asking if, even though he didn't know much about Hanahaki yet, he could stay and spend the night. As a friend of Steve's and nothing more.

For what seemed like the thousandth time, they lay down on the bed in Eddie's old room. There were no more personal items there, but Steve hadn't even changed the sheets yet, which were messed up on the bed as if they were waiting for Eddie to come back from a trip to the bathroom. He was kind enough not to comment, even though it was obvious he had noticed.

Unlike all the times they had slept together before, this time they cuddled. Maybe it wasn't the best idea for Steve's poor heart, but he was too tired to even think about fighting. To fill the silence, Eddie told him about a book he had been reading lately.

Just as he was almost asleep, Steve felt Eddie murmur something near his ear and asked him to repeat it.

“I asked if you’re going to need a transplant. I read about it once.”

“Probably.”

“Okay.” Eddie tightened his arms around Steve. “I can be your donor, Stevie.” Steve shook with laughter and felt Eddie’s smile on the back of his neck. “What’s wrong? You don’t believe me, Sweetheart?”

“Robin promised the same thing.”

“Oh, then maybe we’ll have to fight for you.”

That night, Steve fell asleep feeling like everything might turn out okay after all.

The next part is the last one. After that, I'll post some thoughts on it, for more context.

Tag list | @estrellami-1 @drips-and-drabbles15

You ever been in a state where you physically have no energy, but you're bored and socially understimulated so you kind of wish you could just invite people to come over like this:

callout post for "work"

"work" has done many terrible things such as

make my friend go there

make my wife go there

please spread this around we can't let "work" keep getting away with this

My biggest tip for fanfic writers is this: if you get a character's mannerisms and speech pattern down, you can make them do pretty much whatever you want and it'll feel in character.

Logic: Characters, just like real people, are mallable. There is typically very little that's so truly, heinously out of character that you absolutely cannot make it work under any circumstance. In addition, most fans are also willing to accept characterization stretches if it makes the fic work. Yeah, we all know the villain and the hero wouldn't cuddle for warmth in canon. But if they did do that, how would they do it?

What counts is often not so much 'would the character do this?' and more 'if the character did do this, how would they do it?' If you get 'how' part right, your readers will probably be willing to buy the rest, because it will still feel like their favourite character. But if it doesn't feel like the character anymore, why are they even reading the fic?

Worry less about whether a character would do something, and more about how they'd sound while doing it.

rubbing my penis

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

Hopper is trying to enjoy his anniversary dinner with his wife at Enzo’s, in spite the fact that Diane is pissed at him and he doesn’t want to be there, when he suddenly hears, “Mr Hopper.”

Hopper does not roll his eyes when he looks away from his wife’s empty chair to six year old Steve Harrington next to him, “Yes?”

The kid is in a suit. Should Hopper have worn a suit?

“I’m okay, Mr Hopper.”

Well, that got Hopper’s attention. His eyes flicker from the kid to the table with his clearly whisper-arguing parents. Steve certainly looked okay so, “Good?”

“I’m gonna ask Mama if I can get ice cream,” Steve tells him. “If she says no, I’m going to cry real loud ‘til she gives up. I’m not really sad, Mr. Hopper. I’m just really good at crying. Please don’t arrest my dad. He didn’t hurt me.”

Hopper gives him a bewildered look so Steve compromises, “Okay, you can arrest my dad but after I get ice cream.”

Hopper barely manages not to smile at this ridiculous kid when he says, “Are you telling me about a premeditated tantrum?”

Steve thinks about it, “Yes.”

Corroded Coffin are celebrating an album release in Vegas. Eddie gets bored of the VIP area at the club & wanders The Strip. Standing at the Bellagio fountain is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. Eddie pushes past some douchey looking dudes in business casual to reach him.

Eddie falls to one knee. “Will you marry me?” Steve who is bored with his business man life and hates his friends takes one look at this random proposing man with wild hair and leather pants and says “Yes.”

Blankie

Steve has a blankie. It's his blankie. Worn and threadbare over the years. His grandmother had sown it for him, simple and plain.

But Steve loved it. Could never be without it.

"I threw it out,"

Steve had been gone the weekend. Checking the places over in Indianapolis that they could maybe afford. He'd been gone two days. Two fucking days.

"You what."

His mother doesn't even look up at him. She never has actually, paid him much attention.

"God Steven, don't make me repeat myself. I threw it out. With a bunch of your baby things. It was old and ratty. I should have thrown it out sooner really-

Steve doesn't listen, he's out the door before she's finished her sentence.

"Steven!"

He can see them, the boxes, chucked out by the mailbox. For anyone to just pick up. He tears open the first one, doesn't care that he's throwing baby toys across the yard.

It's at the bottom. Torn in half.

He walks back to the house.

His mother looks at him with disgust. He can tell. It's the same way she always looks at him when he's acting o u t.

Steve's lips twist into a shadow of his former self and he walks past her. He smashes the number he now knows by heart into the receiver.

It rings once before a click "I'm coming. Now. Forever."

And then he hangs up.

"Steven?"

She doesn't sound so sure now, he voice quivers slightly as he tears through the house, grabbing what little he actually has left there.

Then he makes a last turn around the kitchen, his mother hovering as he grabs the bread, Dustin's favourite cereal and the expensive chocolates from his dad that Eddie loves stealing.

"Steven it's just a blanket what are you doing?"

Steve whirls on his mother.

"Once a month, on the third Tuesday, your husband goes to a bar just out of town and fucks the youngest thing he can find. Boy or girl, he doesn't really care. It's not just a blanket it's the only proof I have that I was loved, goodbye Mother,"

And as he slams the front door he doesn't look back.

"Steven."

He doesn't pause.

Eddie's van is turning the corner.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Steve clenches that blanket to his chest.

"It's worth shit,"

Part 2