*Can't help falling in love playing in Steve's head*

Steve and Eddie are both the big dog that doesn’t know it is a dog that is big. and they are always sitting on each others laps.

like, Eddie will be hanging around sitting on the couch and suddenly the most handsome man he’s ever seen in his life will walk by and Eddie simply hooks an arm around him and forcibly drags Steve into his lap, “hey there gorgeous 😏” Steve pretends to hate it. No one else is pretending tho, seriously he does this allllll the time and Eddie we were literally in the middle of a conversation. All the while, Eddie’s pretending his legs haven’t gone concerningly numb under the weight of all that jock meat.

Eddie on the other hand, when in a bad mood, will quite literally just climb straight into Steve’s lap. It does not matter what Steve is doing. he could be knitting or sitting on the couch reading a book. he climbs right on in, Eddie! Me and Steve were literally in the middle of a conversation. he’ll plop his sharp boney ass down and Steve will pet his hair as he sits there and Seethes. or alternatively, as he sits there and rants. of course Eddie tends to talk with his hands and he’s got those long gangly limbs (lots of sharp metal rings) so Steve has gotten into the habit of lovingly wrapping his arms around his darling boyfriend like a straight jacket whenever Eddie is pouting so he doesn’t take an elbow to the face again

Post credits scenes I pinky promise

You know how sewing was super popular in the 50-70's, especially amongst working class families?? and it was kinda just something mother's just knew how to do because like why would you buy a whole new t-shirt when you could just patch it up or hem a pair of jeans passed down? and like maybe you weren't making anything insane, but like lot's of people could just do the basics?

Anyways, when Sirius first transitions Remus helps alter a bunch of her clothing. Hemming skirts, taking in seams, adjusting necklines, anything that makes her feel more comfortable in her clothing and the way they fit her. After a bit he starts practising more, so by christmas he can make her a dress.

one of my favorite tropes in a steddie fic is when a hurt steve (physically or mentally but caused by the upside down) stumbles across a completely unaware eddie. them both not knowing much except for rumors about the other and normally wouldn’t even approach one another, except this time. eddie instantly being on guard and ready to bite back, but it crumbles apart the moment he realizes steve isn’t okay. steve who is delirious and unstable and his mind is still stuck on the task of protecting, it doesn’t really register that he and eddie should be disliking each other, just that everyone needs to be safe. their first true meeting and it’s completely raw and vulnerable, it’s frightening and leaves something permanent, especially for eddie. this is the moment where the protector becomes the protected.

tfw you get turned into a monster against your will but thankfully you know a guy who's super practical and skilled in monster killing who won't hesitate to put you down if it means keeping everybody safe and that's a comfort except oh no what's going on he wants to kiss you now you fucked up

thinking about the fic potential of Eddie in S5 scenes and Steddie and so far Ive got:

Broke: Steve macho posturing for Nancy as per canon with the tower climbing

Woke: Steve & Eddie in an established relationship and Steve trying to impress his boyfriend in that scene

Bespoke: Steve crazy about Eddie but they're not together yet and tries to impress him in that scene WITHOUT realizing right away that's what he's doing, and Jonathan still thinks he's after Nancy, so later in the van it's like

Jonathan: fuck off stop your macho posturing shit

Steve: *life flashing before his eyes as he realizes* fuck you I'm not

Jonathan: somehow I don't think you're doing it to impress Robin or Eddie

Steve: *sweating profusely*

Eddie in the passenger seat watching the whole argument go down: what, I'm not hot enough to posture for?

Steve: *dying behind the wheel*

Remus/Sirius Games (2008-2017) is archived on Dreamwidth

Hello, friends! Just returning briefly from beyond the grave to say that I believe most if not all of the Remus/Sirius Games archive can be found on Dreamwidth. I honestly cannot remember if we finished tracking down all the artwork, but the fic at least should be safe if news of LiveJournal's demise is true.

If anyone has active links to Games artwork that is missing from Dreamwidth, let me know, and I will fix it!

I have been taking a closer look at the R/S Games DreamWidth archive, and sadly a lot of the works from the 2008 Games are no longer available. Much of the art is also missing across multiple years. This is devastating. So many great Wolfstar works have been lost, maybe forever. I have done my best to track down the missing fics on AO3 and FFN. I was able to find a few, and I have linked them in those posts. If anyone has live links for missing works, get in touch!

Steve was listening to Will talk and with each word the lump that started growing in his throat grew, and grew. It's not like he wasn't proud and happy for Will. He was. God, he was so proud and happy for him. Seeing everyone be so supportive and loving him unconditionally, it made Steve jealous. Jealous of what he didn't have. And never will have. His parents disowned him the second they caught him fooling around with a guy. That was 5 years ago and they have not been back to Hawkins or talked to him since. It hurt, it hurt so god damn much.

He felt the tears in his eyes and his vision getting blurry as he watched everyone hug Will. And Steve just stood there, frozen, unmoving. His eyes burned as he tried to hold back the tears, the sadness and anger. Why couldn't that be him right now? Why did his parents have to hate him? Shouldn't they love him unconditionally as well? He's their son for fucks sake. But no. They don't love him, and he's not sure they ever did.

Silently Steve slipped through the door and made his way down to the basement where he could cry in peace. He was gonna talk to Will later, tell him he's proud of him. But right now, he can't.

He sat down on the ground, tucking himself into the corner and making himself as small as possible, hugging his knees to his chest as he finally let the tears fall. And once he let them, the dam broke and there was nothing he could do to stop them. He quietly sobbed into his knees, his entire body shaking.

He startled when he felt a body sitting next to him, going tense at being caught. But he only got scooped up by strong arms and depositited on the persons lap. A hand came to rest at the back of his head, tucking him against the persons neck. Steve immediately calmed down as the unruly curls tickled his nose and he inhaled the smell of leather and cigarettes. Eddie. He pressed closer, wrapping his arm around Eddie's shoulder as he let the last few tears silently roll down his cheeks and onto Eddies shirt.

Man, wouldn't it be awesome it there was a fic in which Eddie lived and encouraged Will in his queer shenanigans?

I've been thinking about it since vol 2 and proceeded to be possessed by the writing gods to come up with this fic. This is the first time I've ever written anything this long other than a scientific paper in my adult life, and English isn't my first language, so if it sucks that's why. I really hope this can bring someone joy, though

~☆~

A badly fried Vecna goes into hiding, and Steve, Nancy, and Robin manage to get Eddie to the hospital just in time for him to survive. It's a painful and so so boringly long process of recovery for Eddie (how the fuck is he supposed to stay still for that long?), but at least they're giving him the good stuff for his pain and the government who's paying the bills.

Dustin and Steve take turns staying every waking hour (in which they're not busy with crawls or work) by his bedside. They couldn't get the hospital and government agents to allow Wayne to stay with him because of the whole murder accusations, but for some reason, the Party could. Eddie guesses it has more to do with the NDAs than anything else, but, hey, it's not like he doesn't enjoy the company. They can be a bit overbearing sometimes, but he doesn't resent them. He's seen how broken Dustin got when they both thought he was gonna die, and knew Steve would do anything to make the boy happy, including keeping the freak company at his hospital bed. It was kinda cute.

Yet it was still real weird at first, to spend long hours alone with Steve fucking Harrington, of all people. He knew the guy was now nice, but they've had like one full conversation when he was barely coherent with fear and giving the last of his brainpower to conceal how horny he was after seeing him killing bats with his bare hands, so. Weird. Awkward. Definitely not a situation he'd picture himself in, like ever. They talked though, when Eddie wasn't high out of his mind with pain meds, and in that time, he really learned to enjoy the man's company, more than the eye candy.

Once, he overheard Steve and Dustin talking outside his room. It was more of an argument, really. They seemed to do that a lot these days. The older man was trying to get Dustin to go home, but the kid snapped at him:

"I have to stay here, so I can make sure he's fine, *Steve*"

"And how exactly are you gonna 'make sure he's fine'? There's really not much you can do besides staring at him, and I can do that just as well as you do, so just fucking go home, man. Your mom's worried and you look like shit". Judging by Steve's bitchy tone, this was an old and tired conversation between them.

"You just don't understand! I almost saw him die! In my arms!!! Excuse me for not wanting to leave his side!!" Fucking ouch.

"Do you really think that didn't fuck me up too?? I know I wasn't that close to him, but *I* was the one who left you and him alone to deal with those fucking bats. He almost died because of *me*, you went through that because of *me*. Helping you out is the least I can do!!" Was Steve...tearing up?

"Steve, I -"

"Just go, Henderson. I'll call you if anything happens".

After that, Steve took a while to go inside the room, probably collecting himself. In the meantime, Eddie's head was spinning with the realization of how much he needed to talk to the kids, and make those two really talk to each other somehow. Well, well, well, if it wasn't the consequences of his actions.

~☆~

The night before Eddie's (fucking finally!) released from the hospital - after chief Hopper pulled a whole stunt to clear his name, and he stopped feeling like something was chewing on him 24/7 - Steve and Dustin started arguing again. Not gonna lie, it was always the same shit, and even he was getting tired of it. This time, though, the kid took it in a slightly different direction:

"Fuck's sake, Steve, don't pull that guilt shit on me again. You'll keep him in your house for God knows how long, it won't kill me to sleep here for one night so you can rest"

"The kid's got a point, Harrington." Interrupted Eddie. He was being nosy, he knew, but he saw the opportunity and took it. "I know you feel guilty for what happened to me, but it's not your fault. Lower that eyebrow, it's not!! We were in a fucked up situation, in a fucked up alternate dimension. It's really not unexpected for a fucked up thing to happen, as much as that sucks. You're just putting an impossible weight on yourself by feeling 100% responsible for everyone's safety."

"Also, it's hypocritical of you to not want Eddie to do that, you do the same thing all the time," Dustin truthfully, but kinda tactlessly adds. Eddie gives him a look. "It's true! You're always throwing yourself in front of anything remotely dangerous that comes our way just like he did."

"First of all why are you suddenly ganging up on me? I knew we should be having this conversation away from Eddie. Second of all, it's different, ok?"

"How the fuck is it different, Steve??" Dustin snaps.

"It doesn't matter, it just is!" Steve sounded suspiciously teary here.

"Not to push you or anything, man, but it kinda does. Matter, I mean", added Eddie, hiding behind a strand of his hair.

Steve gives him a *look* that starts a staring match between the three of them. It doesn't last long, though. Even after all those years of King Steve, two against one seemed to be too much for the man. Either that or the puppy eyes Dustin pulled really worked.

"Fucking ok! It's different because Eddie plays your nerd dice game with you, and likes all those nerd movies about magic rings and space travelers with superpowers, and wasn't an absolute asshole to everyone that matters for most of his life. It's different because I'm not the badass geniuses Nance and Robin are, because no one depends on me like some of you do on Mrs Byers, Hopper and even Jonathan, because I'm not a great kid who was dealt a shit hand in life way too young and deserves a bright fucking future. It's different because if not me, then who?" And at this point, he wasn't even trying to hold back his tears.

"Steve, what the fuck. No. Do you know how much it keeps me up at night thinking about the what ifs of all those times you almost died? Honestly, besides actually losing Eddie, the thing that worried me the most about Eddie dying was ending up without the both of you, since you're always so dead set on getting yourself killed! We're fighting Vecna together. We've been doing so for years now. We should carry the burden together! It's not fair that you just decided that by yourself without giving a shit about what we think!"

A long and heavy silence fell upon them before Steve replied.

"I never thought about it that way? I'm - I'm sorry. I thought I was keeping you safe - that's all I'm always aiming for -, not making you stress out about losing me all the time. Just. Come here, man. I'll try not to do that anymore, though if it's a last resort to protect you I might".

After a long, very teary and snotty hug, Eddie interrupts them:

"I'm sorry, too, by the way. I don't regret for one second doing what I did to protect this dickhead, but I never meant to fuck you up that bad. I didn't even think it'd affect you that much. Especially you, Harrington. And, Henderson, I also won't do that anymore, except as a last resort"

"Of course, Munson. You're one of us now, we stick together"

Steve goes home that night.

~☆~

I have a little bit of the rest of this story planned, so let me know if you'd be interested to read it! I was planning of making next chapter Will's POV.

Part two's here, baby!!!

The kids getting suspicious of Eddie and Steve after Eddie makes some dig about Steve’s taste in music or what he’s wearing so Steve responds “bite me, Munson” and Eddie just grabs Steve’s arm, shoves his sleeve up, and chomps into Steve’s forearm before he can even consider the consequences of his complete lack of impulse control that probably would have been more advisable to keep to when he was alone with Steve

It’s not Eddie responding to bite me with actually biting Steve without a second thought that gets them suspicious though. Eddie does weird impulsive shit just because people wouldn’t expect it all the time. Sure, they think biting Steve is grosser than his usual stuff but they’re not reading anything into it beyond Eddie being Eddie and okay gross he’s pulling a whole vampire act at the cost of having to bite Steve until Eddie’s eyes go all wide as he realizes what he has done in front of the flock of children and he starts stammering something barely half coherent that mostly amounts to “I just…” with no actual context while visibly flustered

Eddie’s reaction to his own action is only half of the suspiciousness though because really it’s the combination of that and Steve having some stupid dopey smile on his face after being bitten until he notices everyone looking at him questioningly and then immediately switching it up to putting on an annoyed act and grumbling “Jesus Christ, Eddie, you can’t just go around biting people” that really gets the kids asking questions

Eddie survives, but barely, at the end of their first battle with Vecna. He spends his first week and a half in a coma, the splitting of the world and the mass exodus that followed enough to make the remaining people of Hawkins avert their eyes from his presence.

When he wakes up, it's to the sight of his uncle. He can't speak, he can't move, he can barely open his eyes. He can't manage to spend more than 15 minutes awake at any given time, but every time he is, he's surrounded by his new friends.

Dustin never leaves. He stays firmly at his bedside, singing his praises and getting him sips or water whenever he needs it and allowing heavy silences to build between them when his energy runs out, things left unsaid.

Wayne never leaves. His job went with half the population, so he has nothing to do but relentlessly make sure his nephew is breathing. He holds his hand and wipes the sweat away and keeps his questions deep inside.

Steve never leaves. He understands it, and he doesn't. They hardly knew each other, but they're inextricably bonded. They share responsibility for Dustin, but they also share that little stone of jealousy. They care for one another. They can't say it. Just bask in the easy company they create together.

In one of his bouts of wakefulness, near a month in, he hears Steve, Wayne, and Hopper whispering.

"...talk about the "ash" coming up. Clahan let it slip they got a call. Something about quarantine."

"We need to move him."

"Why? No sense in agravatin' his injuries more than they already are."

"Steve's right. These guys, they're not going to be some first responder goons, they're going to be military. The real shit, and I guarantee you, they're not going to let some kid who got pumped full of demo-saliva sit peacefully in the clinic."

"We move him tonight."

It's so fucking hard to do, but he makes himself open his eyes. Makes himself grip the bed sheets and speak. "M'not going. You can't make me go."

Wayne rushes to his side, shushing his nephew and petting at his overgrown bangs. "Shh, shh, Ed. It's gonna be alright. You just gotta listen."

The adrenaline that kicks in at the thought of being moved, at being forced to leave behind his friend, Dustin, before the battle his done is enough for his body to kick it into gear. It hurts in a way that he never could have imagined before the day he almost died, but he makes his legs kick out anyway, pressing at the sheets, trying to get away, to make a stand.

"Hey, hey! Knock it off man, you're going to hurt yourself." Steve comes to the bed, trying to hold his legs and arms still without doing further damage.

The desperation in his heart must show in his face, because Steve stills as their eyes meet, expression falling. "Don't let them take me. I need to say, I want to stay. I can help," he pleads, trying to move under the gentle hands holding him down on both sides.

"Eddie, it's okay. It's okay, you just need to stop. Stop." Steve says. He looks away, and Eddie knows he's made up his mind. He makes himself tear his arm from Wayne's hand, reaching for the tube in his nose like it's the thing that's been keeping him in this bed. People around him are shouting and he forces himself throguh the pain, bile rising in his throat and dribbling down his chin.

A sharp pain in his thigh and the sound of Steve's desperate "I'm sorry" are the last things he remembers.

He wakes up in the back seat of Wayne's truck. The gentle rocking of the cab sends burning jolts through his tight skin and bruised muscle, but it pales in comparison to the stab of betrayal. Of defeat.

"Fuck you, old man." It takes him what feels like an eon to get out of his throat. His gaze is soft, too tired to muster any kind of glare, staring at where the steering wheel meets the sky through the windshield. The sky is so blue.

Wayne says nothing, just tightens his hands on the wheel.

They end up just over the border in Kentucky. Wayne has family there, but they don't go to them. They call in some favors and get access to a dilapidated cabin in the middle of nowhere. No phone, no town, no way out. He tries not to think of it as a prison, knows his uncle is putting his money where his mouth is and doing anything and everything he has to to keep him safe.

His recovery is slow and brutal without the things he really needs. Wayne cleans him and moves him to avoid sores and gives him his best approximation of physical therapy while Eddie watche him distantly. He can stay awake now, but he's less alive than before the coma. He's struck by sudden and near violent bouts of anger, bolting up in bed and beating on the window and begging to go back.

Every moment of every day he thinks of what might be happening in Hawkins. He wonders if they're dead. He imagines Dustin's hat full of blood and brains. He thinks of Robin's converse covered feet severed from the body. Nancy's gun turned against her. Max's bones snapped back. Steve's beautiful brown eyes, caved into his skull.

Wayne reads to him. Wayne feeds him. Wayne takes care of him.

Eddie loves him.

Eddie hates him.

It's over a year until he can stand all the way up again. Another two months until he's walking.

He stands at the window while Wayne is at work. He thinks of walking his way back to Hawkins. Could he find a way in? Is there anything left for him to find there? They track the news religiously with their radio, the only station they get a fuzzy AM news talk show. Every now and then they get crumbs, little updates about the continued quarantine across the border. Military presence. Metal band-aids.

Mandatory medical check-ups.

He won't say it, but if their only goal was to keep Eddie safe, then they made the right call.

His scars and raised and bumpy, red and tight across his damaged muscles. His left leg feels tight and loose at the same time, unable to support his weight without the use of his beat-up cane.

But there's something else. Something that he couldn't identify until his body started to feel a little like his own again.

There's something under his skin. When Wayne is gone, working the handful of hours he allows himself at the corner store three miles out, he stares at his hands. He stares at his feet. Feels at the space between his shoulder blades.

He faces north, imagining the distance between himself and them.

One day as he's staring, he gets up. The sky is the same. The grass is the same. The window is the same.

Something is wrong.

The tearing of flesh at his back is easy to ignore. The curl of claws through his socks and nailbeds is secondary.

Something is wrong.

He lifts into that northern sky and doesn't stop for miles.

Hawkins looks the same. It looks irreconcilably different. It doesn't matter. He shoots through an attatended rift, the red sinewy flesh of it not registering despite all the nights he'd screamed awake to the beat of its pulsing walls.

The sky is falling. The earth is red. There's screaming.

None of it matters.

There's a body falling through the sky.

That matters.

He doesn't feel the weight hitting his mangled arms. He doesn't register the snap as his wing clips the tower on his way up. Doesn't hear the screams below him as he brings the two of them up above their heads.

"Hey, sweetheart. I always knew you'd fall for me."

Steve's raucous laughter is the best thing he's heard in two years.

will saying “I don’t like girls” and then the scene cutting to show mike gulping is diabolical btw. I just know this boy had the rain fight flashing before his eyes.

“I’m sorry about the Beamer,” Dustin says.

He doesn’t know why he blurts it out, just like that.

He’s so tired he can barely turn his head to look at Steve, who’s lying on the air mattress his mom dug out again, wedged right next to Dustin’s bed.

Steve looks wide awake, wired. Fingers drumming against his chest. He frowns slightly, like he’s processing Dustin’s words, and then exhales. A soft, Huh.

“I actually, uh, forgot about it,” he says. Laughs quietly. “I guess it’s kinda…” He blows out air from his cheeks and gestures vaguely. Dustin doesn’t point out that his hand is shaking. “Like, flying through time or something, right?” He smiles. “Like the DeLorean.”

“I’m still sorry,” Dustin says because right now it’s all he knows how to say; because he doesn’t know how to cover it all; of the familiar thunk of the car door slamming shut; of his muddy footprints ingrained in the front; of relaxing into his seat, hearing Steve sing along to the radio under his breath, thinking I’m safe here, I’m safe here, I’m safe—

“Stop apologising, bud,” Steve says, almost offhand, almost normal, but there’s a waver right at the end, and…

“I just—” Dustin tries, but it’s all he gets out before Steve moves abruptly to sit on his bed, looks down at him so seriously.

“Dustin, it’s a car,” he says firmly. A sudden shadow, just for a moment; something haunted in his eyes.

Dustin’s throat still hurts from screaming. The sting of the skin underneath his fingernails, from clinging onto the metal of the radio tower; an ache in his knee from when he wobbled on the ladder. Steve screaming his name as he fell in the Abyss and thinking, briefly, That’s the last thing I’ll ever hear.

“I can replace—” Steve’s voice breaks. “It’s just a car.”

And he’s pulling Dustin into the tightest hug. He’s shaking; they both are.

“We’re okay,” Dustin says.

Steve echoes it, high-pitched, vulnerable. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay.”

Dustin does the only thing he can. He holds on.

im still at the restaurant