"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.
Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.
433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.
Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted trailer. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.
The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.
"H'llo? Eds?"
"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.
"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"
"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this. Worries Steve'll hang up and neither of them will hear from him again.
But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.
"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.
"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."
"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."
"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.
And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the trailer, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.
So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.
"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.
"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.
"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.
"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."
And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.
"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.
But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.
"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.
"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.
"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.
By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.
On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?
He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.
"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.
"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.
"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.
A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.
"You should date my nephew."
Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.
"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.
"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.
"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.
"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"
"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.
"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.
"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."
"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.
"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.
"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the trailer. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.
"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the trailer which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.
Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.
"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"
Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.
"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.
"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"
"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.
"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.
"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."
And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."
were we just kids, just starting out
Arthur: šš Merlin: š Gwen: š
MERLIN | 1x09 "Excalibur"
Alright US mutuals, if you are interested in, morbidly fascinated by, or anxiously doomscrolling through AI news, including Stable Diffusion, Llama, ChatGPT or Dalle, you need to be aware of this.
The US Copyright Office has submitted a request for comment from the general public. Guidelines can be found on their site, but the gist of it is that they are taking citizen statements on what your views on AI are, and how the Copyright Office should address the admittedly thorny issues in rulings.
Be polite, be succinct, and be honest. They have a list of questions or suggestions, but in truth are looking to get as much data from the general public as possible. If you have links to papers or studies examining the economic impacts of AI, they want them. If you have anecdotal stories of losing commissions, they want them. If you have legal opinions, experience using these tools, or even a layman's perspective of how much human input is required for a piece of work to gain copyright, they want it.
The deadline is Oct 18th and can be submitted via the link in the article. While the regulatory apparatus of the US is largely under sway by corporate interests, this is still the actual, official time for you to directly tell the government what you think and what they should do. Comments can be submitted by individuals or on behalf of organizations. So if you are a small business, say a print shop, you can comment on behalf of the print shop as well.
Arthur held Merlin in the aftermath of the battle of Camlan.
His idiot manservant had appeared out of nowhere and taken a blow meant for the king. A killing blow.
Merlin had been slain by Mordred, and in turn Mordred had been slain by Arthur.
āI did itā¦. I actually did itā Merlin whispered.
Arthurās brows knit together in confusion. Merlin had sounded almost⦠happy?
With a closer look, he saw his friend wasnāt grimacing with pain, instead he was smiling the widest he had ever seen.
With that, Merlin gave a hearty sigh, and closed his eyes for the last time. He had conquered fate itself, and now he could finally rest.
BI BUCK CONFIRMED FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I hate that Iām always trying to find cool biology themed stuff to wear but all the ānature inspiredā clothing companies just have like two crossed arrows or a minimalistic mountain on a sweatshirt. Fucking lame, thatās barely even nature-adjacent. Put the life cycle of a salamander on a jacket, put hyena skeleton patterns on leggings, put a damn field guide of birds of prey on a peacoat and THEN you can have my money. Do NOT give me a shirt with a leaf on it that says āstay wildā or some bullshit I would much prefer clothing that broadcasts to everyone around me how many teeth an adult Jaguar has or how some pitcher plants can catch and digest rats.
And Iām obsessed with merlin being in the trunk
Hopper accidentally becomes the biggest ally in Hawkins out of hatred for Mike Wheeler. El wants to date Max? Perfect, Mike is terrified of Max. El wants to date Max and Lucas? Even better, more people to keep Mike away. Will comes out to Joyce and Hop? Hopper is immediately studying up on gay culture and flagging so he can find him a Hop ApprovedTM boyfriend. He sees that nice boy Gareth cuff his jeans one time and starts inviting him to family dinner. Mike seems annoyed that Steve is spending more time with Munson? A pamphlet titled āAccepting your Bisexualityā finds its way into Steveās jacket pocket. Hopper has never seen Mike as furious as the day Steve and Munson arrive at dinner holding hands. Itās a good day. Hopper isnāt sure how Nancy dating the Buckley girl will annoy Mike, but heās willing to give it a shot.
dumb love, i love being stupid, dream of us in a year. maybe weād have an apartment and youād show me off to your friends at the pier. i know, ābaby, no attachment,ā but weāre⦠knee deep in the passengers seat and youāre eating me out, is it casual now?
ābut like⦠why not just tell him?ā robin asks. theyāre laying on their backs on steveās floor, side by side, legs tangled together while a fleetwood record spins out the low sounds of stevie nicksās voice. āyouāre already banging, so whatās the point? youāre practically dating.ā
āwhat? no.ā steve replies, taking one last hit from the joint theyāve been passing back and forth before handing it back to robin so she can drop it into the ashtray near her elbow. āitās not dating. itās strictly sexual.ā
āyouāve never in your life been strictly sexual with anyone,ā robin snorts.
steve scowls. this is kind of a sore subject for him because yeah. heās never done this casual thing before and heās never really wanted to. he doesnāt even really want to now.
heās silent for so long that robinās perfectly capable of understanding exactly what heās thinking. āoh,ā she breathes out. āoh no.ā
āstop, please. it was mutual.ā steve doesnāt even sound convincing to his own ears.
āokay. yeah. sure.ā steve hates how much she sounds like sheās trying to placate him.
āitās really not a big deal. itās fine. weāre having fun. iām having fun.ā steveās embarrassed by how rehearsed he sounds.
āyeah, no, totally. for sure.ā
they lay there without speaking again for a long time after that.
~*~
āgod, youāre so cute, stevie, cooking me breakfast.ā steveās standing in front of the stove in his kitchen a few days later when eddie comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, nuzzling into steveās neck. steve canāt help the smile that spreads across his face.
ādonāt get too used to it,ā steve tells him, plating the first batch of french toast. āwoke up early enough to eat before work for the first time in, like, three months.ā
āwell i appreciate it,ā eddie says, letting steve turn in his arms. steve canāt help himself; he leans in for a kiss and eddie returns it enthusiastically.
eddieās never spent the night like this before. usually heās out of the house before steve wakes up in the morning. most of the time he leaves before they even have the chance to fall asleep together. steve tries not to take it too personally. eddieās a busy guy and what theyāre doing is nothing serious. eddie had been sure to make that clear the first few times theyād seen each other naked.
steve tries not to read too much into it as eddie takes the plate from his hands and pulls himself up to sit on the island countertop just across from where steveās leaning next to the stove with his own plate. he tries not to get his hopes up but he canāt help the flutter in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach as they eat breakfast together before he has to go to work. he tries his best to ignore the pull he feels toward eddie, the way his hands itch to plant themselves on eddieās hips and pull him in. he pushes down the disappointment that arises when eddie changes out of the sweats heād clearly taken from steveās dresser drawers and back into his own clothes. he ignores the tiny little pang in his chest when eddie says goodbye and leaves, even though steve has to leave for work in ten minutes anyway. he tries to ignore the little voice in his head that points out that eddie doesnāt even kiss him goodbye.
~*~
it goes on like that for a while. eddie starts spending enough nights at steveās house that steve canāt help but become hopeful. he has his own green toothbrush sitting right next to steveās red one on his bathroom sink. his hair has started to smell like steveās shampoo. eddieās stopped insisting that theyāre just casual every time steve leans in for a kiss. sometimes they donāt even fuck, they just fall asleep together watching a movie, with the tv playing softly in the background.
steveās not delusional. he knows that itās not a relationship. but that hope is back and heās helpless against its forces building inside him every time he says goodbye to eddie at his front door. his t-shirts have started going missing, ones with hawkins high emblazoned across the front, ones that he knows robin wouldnāt be caught dead in. eddieās the only one who could be taking them, but steve canāt figure out why heās being so secretive about it. he still hasnāt been able to catch him at it. but it has to mean something, right?
steve starts to let himself fantasize about what could happen if he just confessed to eddie. if he just admitted, once and for all, that heād never wanted to do this whole friends with benefits thing that eddieās been insisting on. heās not totally sure that eddie would be a hundred percent receptive, but itās only happening in his own brain, so he can have the ending he wants for now.
ājesus, dingus, what the hell is going on with you lately?ā robin asks, sounding irritated as she comes to stand next to him behind the counter at family video. āiāve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes.ā
āwhat? sorry.ā steve drags a hand across his face. ājust thinking.ā
āoh really,ā robin snorts. āabout what?ā
ājustā¦ā steve sighs. āremember when we were talking a few months ago?ā
robin raises her eyebrows at him.
āi mean, you know. about eddie.ā his voice drops into a whisper at the end, as if eddie might be hiding behind one of the vhs displays, even though itās a tuesday morning and the two of them are alone in the store.
āoh. yes. i remember.ā robin sounds just a tiny bit apprehensive.
āwell⦠i think somethingās changed.ā
āchanged? how?ā
āi mean, heās started sleeping over my house a lot more. sometimes we donāt even⦠you know. have sex.ā he whispers the last two words, looking over his shoulder. āi think heās stealing my t-shirts.ā
āokay,ā robin draws out the second syllable, elongating the āaā sound, making it clear that steve has to be a bit more specific.
ādo you think he⦠i donāt know. do you think maybe he wants something more? like, maybe to date? or like, whatever.ā steve runs a hand through his hair nervously. this is the first time heās admitting he wants something more out loud.
robin considers for a long moment. āhonestly, i donāt know. iāve never made it past kissing anyone before.ā steveās shoulders slump. ābut thereās only one real way to find out.ā
āhow?ā steve grunts, even though he already knows the answer.
āyou gotta talk to him, man.ā steve groans. āi know, dingus. it sucks.ā she reaches out to rub his back, an attempt at comfort.
it almost works.
~*~
steve thinks about it for a few days. about three weeks ago, eddie had started kissing him goodbye every time they parted ways at steveās front door and he hasnāt missed a goodbye kiss yet. that has to mean something. it has to.
itās a movie nightāeddieās choiceāwhen steve finally gathers the courage to say something to him.
ācan i talk to you?ā steve says, sounding far more confident than he actually feels. heās pulled his legs up under himself on the couch and turned sideways to stare at eddieās profile.
āum, yeah,ā eddie replies a bit distractedly, eyes glued to the tv screen as he reaches for the remote next to him. he pauses the film and only then does he turn to face steve. he smiles, dimples showing. āwhatās up, stevie? i donāt pause the thing for just anyone.ā
that makes steve feel a little less nervous. it feeds the hope in his chest. he runs a hand through his hair. āokay, well. i was thinking about, like, what weāre doing.ā
āwhat weāre doing?ā eddie tilts his head to the side just a little, looking confused.
āyeah, like. you know. youāve said you want to keep things casual but i was thinking that maybe we couldā¦ā steve trails off, unsure of how to continue.
āwe couldā¦?ā eddie prompts, but heās starting to look a little apprehensive.
āi mean, i know you said that you donāt really do the non-casual type of thing or whatever, but i was thinking like. i donāt know, that we could, like, go on a date? maybe?ā steve hates how unsure he sounds at the end, how his voice turns up at the end.
eddie just looks at him for a long moment. āi thought we were on the same page, steve.ā
okay, heās not āstevieā anymore, but maybe this is just a miscommunication.
āwe were,ā steve responds, swallowing hard. āi mean, we are. i think.ā then he corrects himself. āor, uh, thought.ā he looks down at his hands for a second and takes a deep breath before speaking again. āi really like you, eddie. and i want⦠i donāt know what i want but i know that i like you a lot. and i donāt want to be just friends who sleep together.ā
āso,ā eddie speaks slowly, still looking just a bit confused, āyou donāt want to sleep together anymore.ā he doesnāt really say it like a question, more like heās not really all that surprised.
āno, i meanā¦ā steveās feeling just a little frustrated with himself. āi like that part. that partās, like, really good. i just⦠i want more than that.ā he runs his hand through his hair again. āi⦠i guess want to be your boyfriend.ā
eddie laughs then and it makes steveās chest feel hollow. eddie must see something on steveās face because his laugh cuts off abruptly. āsorry, man. youāre serious?ā eddie sounds almost disbelieving. steve can only nod, his throat tight. he definitely does not want to cry in front of eddie right now. āoh. well. um. i donāt reallyā¦ā steveās heart drops and the little bubble of hope that had been building since that first time eddie had stayed for breakfast abruptly bursts. āiām sorry, dude, i genuinely thought we were on the same page. iām notāthatās justāā eddie clears his throat. āthatās just not really something i want.ā
steve has nothing to say to that. he supposes that eddie had been honest from the beginning and that he was the one who hadnāt been truthful so he canāt even really be mad.
āright,ā steve responds, avoiding eddieās eyes. āsure, okay.ā
āi think iām gonna go for now. but iāll see you around, okay, stevie?ā steveās eyes snap up to eddieās face and eddieās eyes are wide and panicked. he looks like a cornered deer. a part of steve canāt help but feel sorry for putting that look on eddieās face.
āyeah, okay. see you.ā steve tries to smile at him, maybe to reassure him, but eddie doesnāt even look at him as he gathers his shoes and keys before leaving.
once eddieās gone, steve sits there for a long moment, wondering where heād gone wrong. maybe he should have waited until a little bit later, when they were upstairs tangled up together and he could distract eddie with kisses. maybe he should have waited until breakfast, when eddieās soft and sweet, warm from sleep. maybe he shouldnāt have said anything at all.
steve turns off the tv and goes upstairs to bed alone for the first time in a while.
thereās a part two already half written so no worries, i only write happy endings (except that one time).
sometimes I remember that arthur didn't even know merlin was the greatest sorcerer in the world or that he was destined to be with him, and I just crumble. arthur just loved merlin because he was merlin. he liked him. he really liked him that much. that was more than enough for arthur. he was really planning to spend his entire life with his servant and he was fine with that. no matter what anyone said or thought. arthur listened to a servant over everyone else and he had no idea that he was the most powerful man he'd ever meet. he broke his heart. he just thought he was a servant and STILL he let him break his heart. over and over and over.