"Small Birds Beating The Shit Out Of Each Other" Is My Favourite Sub-season Of Spring. Teeny Tiny Tweety

We desperately need more baby Steve & Munson interactions, they're SO CUTE

Hopper is never having a good day when he has to deal with children but he’s having an even worse day when the kids in question are Eddie ‘Come Back With a Warrant’ Munson and Steve ‘I’ll Answer Your Questions When My Lawyer is Present’ Harrington.

They are eight and seven years old in the backseat of his truck after Hopper caught them separately doing shit they’re not supposed to do. His plan was to drive around a bit, scare them, and then send them on their way but neither are taking it seriously.

Steve, at least, is sticking to his words and hasn’t spoken since he requested a lawyer. Eddie, on the other hand, hasn’t shut up.

Hopper said he was talking them to jail and Eddie’s response was to point out that they weren’t committing crimes. They were committing miss-de-meters and second, “The police station’s that way. You’re drivin’ to Uncle Wayne’s.”

Hopper feels like a glorified taxi driver at this point. He makes one last attempt to instill a little fear of god into these future felons by saying, “You’re going to get grounded by your parents and you’ll deserve it.”

There’s a beat of silence before Steve pipes up, “What’s grounded?”

“It’s when your parents bury you in the backyard,” Eddie supplies helpfully.

“Oh…” Steve says and then loudly announces, “Mr. Hopper, I can’t be grounded. We have a pool.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie cuts in before Hopper can steer this conversation in the right direction.

He clasps a hand on Steve’s shoulder in the rearview and tells him, “They’ll drown you instead.”

Chicago (1986)

Highschool

—random Drabble with you, Larry and Sal at school.

Tw: mentions of underage drinking and drug use.

Putting your books away with a sigh, you let your head drop roughly against the desk. A loud enough noise that even Travis shot you a glare.

Class was boring. Like really boring. Like so boring you even watched Sal draw weird little triangle head people beef with square heads then die in a big scribble hole.

You didn’t study for the test— of course you didn’t. You never did, always preferred to spend your evenings at Larry’s place or Sal’s if he wasn’t already at Larry’s. You were a good test taker, didn’t need to study, just semi listened and managed to make good grades. An average A, B student.

Larry would always look over with that stupid ‘I don’t know what the fuck just happened’ and you’d just shrug with a smile. Just to have your test handed back to you with a 86. And oh he’d glare you and poke your rib with his middle finger.

You were the type of student to slack off, smoke pot and drink shitty beer on the weekends with your friends.

Your future was empty except for your knack at piercing. You’d given Larry a piercing on his left ear— he’d gone on some long ass rant about how the right ear is the gay ear and he needed to at least kiss a girl before college— seeing as this would be your senior year.

You pierced Ashley’s nose piercing, as well as her naval but you’d made her cough up a $20 for that.

“Use both eyes, freak.” Travis sneered, that ugly look on his face directed at you.

You’d zoned out but his comment was enough to get you to lock back into life. “You kiss your daddy with that mouth?” You’d stolen it from Sal, who only rolled his eyes behind his prosthetic as he stood up.

“You little bitch!” Travis stood up, about to charge up to you but Larry stood in front of you.

He’d gotten taller and started working out more, which was a bonus in so many ways because now Travis was backing up like a little bitch and grumbling as he walked out.

“Never stop working out.” You patted Larry’s shoulder, before slinging your bag over your shoulders.

“It’s cuz I’m so hot right?” Larry wiggled his brows but just sighed when you pinched his nose, before promptly pushing you away by your forehead. “You are such a pain in the ass.”

“I’m gonna crawl into your skin.”

“Just kill me now.”

“We’re missing lunch. Come on,” Sal groaned, almost as loud as his stomach.

“It’s bologna day.” Larry rose a brow at Sal.

“Let’s just eat outside.” Sal was quick to pull a 180 and walk out the doors of the school. Leaving the two of you in two.

“Hey so good news, I’m getting a car.” You dropped out of no where as the three of you sat down on the half empty school parking lot.

“What? What kind? And can you drive us?” Sal was immediately asking, eyeing you down like the solution to all his problems.

“Let me rephrase, I got the car, and drove myself here today. It’s right there.” Pointing to the shitty, beat down Chevy truck. The red paint scuffed and scratched— bumper hardly hanging on.

“Wow. What a shit box.” Larry deadpanned, just to sigh, stand up and walk to said shitbox, opening the door, immediately the inside of the door smacked against the ground, and he just side eyed you.

“What? We can fix it up. You two are men. Do your man stuff.” You waved them off before standing as well and stretching, “sooo let’s skip?”

“This is why we’re friends.” Sal walked to the backseat and slid in, situating himself so he was sat in the middle of the two front seats so he could see.

“Your not even gonna try to get front seat?” Larry eyed him from the side.

“No. If she wrecks I’m gonna be the safest.” He shrugged and leaned back against the seat.

“Wait, shit, let’s swit-“

“Sit your ass down.” You huffed and forced him into the car before getting into the drivers side. You had to wait a while before actually cranking it all the way, the whole process was sad.

“It’s totally gonna break down on the highway.” Sal sighed.

“He’s not an it. He’s a David.” You corrected before pulling out of the parking lot.

“David? You’ve gotta be shitting me.” Sal reached forward and changed the radio station.

“I’ll shit on you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Too late.”

“Children.” Larry buckled up immediately when you slammed on the breaks just to smash the gas peddle to gap some mom van. His hand on the oh shit bar.

“I’m so powerful. I could like pit maneuver whoever I wanted.” You drive with your knee, and rolled down the window with the window crank.

“Let me out. Wait. No. Please.” Sal’s voice was sarcastic as he pawed at the window.

“Your putting marks on my window, stop it you rat.” You reached back blindly and tried to slap his hand away but he just held you by the hand.

“Marks are the least you should worry about with this vehicle.” Sal and Larry snickered.

“Assholes.” You sighed.

all the ao3 posts are me just doing important mod stuff, dw about it

while you studied the blade i studied the forge so i could make you the very best blade in the world! love you baby

I love the secret relationship fics where people find out Steve and Eddie have already been dating preseason 4. The “Wayne and Eddie are Steve’s emergency contact” is gold.

I mean Wayne does like to take in strays.

“Your parents mistreat you? Now your new home is my trailer.”

It’s a like a child kidnapping, but with willing almost adults whose parents don’t care for them.

Two straight guys

Party had once again turned the night into a movie marathon — “The Princess Bride” was wrapping up on screen for the third time, and the group was in various stages of collapse. Someone was snoring, someone was mumbling nonsense. Eddie was nestled in his favorite spot — head in Steve’s lap, eyes closed, trying his very best to look unconscious.

This was his favorite game for the past three months: Maximum Violation of Steve Harrington’s Personal Space. A stealth mission of love and desperation, really. Scraping together whatever scraps of warmth he could scavenge. All because he fell for the one type of person most incompatible with yearning: a straight guy.

“Jesus,” Eddie thought. “This is so pathetic. Lucky me, Steve’s personal boundaries got obliterated sometime between Robin and babysitting every child in Indiana. Being in love with a straight dude is… it’s a nightmare. A soft, nice-smelling nightmare.”

Steve was gently running his fingers through Eddie’s hair, convinced the guy was fast asleep. Robin was curled up next to him, whispering something with her head on his shoulder.

Steve (whispering, smirking): “Come on, Robin. Three ha-ha’s and that’s it. Eddie’s so straight. I’ve never met anyone so utterly oblivious to flirting. I’d have better luck seducing drywall.”

Robin (eye-roll): “Steve. Please. I read signals. Queers can smell their own. And Eddie? He’s definitely not full-on straight. If straight at all.”

Steve: “Robin. I’ve been flirting with him for three months. We cuddle. I let him touch my hair. God, I don't let anyone touch me except you and sometimes the kids.. I invited him on a date. And do you know what happened? He brought friends. He brought Gareth. Jeff. Two family-sized bags of nachos. TO A DATE, ROBIN.”

Robin: “Just because he doesn’t respond to your flirting doesn’t mean he’s straight. Also, Eddie’s boundaries? Basically nonexistent. I mean, Steve, sometimes I forget you used to be King Steve. But then you say things like this and your ego comes screaming back.”

Steve: “If he wasn’t straight — and didn’t like me — he’d just say it! But he doesn’t! He doesn’t see it! Being in love with a straight dude is… it’s a nightmare.”

Meanwhile, Eddie — very much awake and actively dying inside — kept his eyes shut, clutching onto the last threads of his sanity and telling his heart to chill the hell out.  This was fine. Everything was fine.

there was a well-meaning international student (learning english) in my workspace who came up to me and asked "how is your handsome white boy?" and it took me a few seconds to realize she was not in fact asking about my twink spouse but my white dog