#podfic requests

It’s not that Eddie’s unaccustomed to late night callers, exactly - his uncle’s antisocial night hours at the plant are pretty good for business, actually. But usually late night means, like, a little after ten. Or midnight. Or maybe one am, on a weekend. Not ten past four in the goddamn morning. “I couldn’t sleep,” Steve Harrington says, by way of a greeting, standing on Eddie’s porch like a kicked puppy. “I can see that.” It’s a decently coherent answer, with his brain still tucked into bed ten feet away. “Can you sell me something that’ll help?” --- Or, the three times Steve goes to Eddie's trailer looking for something to take the edge off, and the one time Eddie finds out why Steve looks so haunted.

So the last few days have been… not great. That’s an understatement if ever Eddie’s made one, but truth be told he can’t think too hard about anything that’s happened since he met Chrissy in the woods without coming close to tears. So. Not great it is. There’s been an unexpected highlight, if you could call it that. One pinprick of light in the nightmare that his life has become. Finding out what the fuck has been up with Steve Harrington.

Eddie’s really not expecting Steve when he shows up on his porch that first week in July. Almost tells him he’s five months early, but all jokes die on his tongue as he takes in the latest set of injuries Steve’s sporting. It’s brutal. Far worse than either time before, something Eddie hadn’t thought possible. His poor face; painted with mottled purple bruises, shot through with scabby lacerations. The careful way he shuffles across the threshold to hide what looks to Eddie like a broken rib. Maybe ribs. One eye is swollen shut. Not like when Billy beat him. More like if Billy had beaten him, and beaten him, and kept beating him some more. Eddie wants to be sick; lifts a hand to his face in fear and horror. “I’m fine,” Steve says, answering the question he hadn’t been asked. His hair falls flat, flicking out by his ears in a way that can’t be intentional. “It looks worse than it is. I’m just, well. It’s tradition at this point.” --- Or, the three times Steve goes to Eddie's trailer looking for something to take the edge off, and the one time Eddie finds out why Steve looks so haunted.

Halloween and the slew of parties that came with it had completely cleaned out Eddie’s supply. Like, down to the absolute dregs. Meaning he’s just about scraped together enough weed dust to roll with tobacco pilfered from Wayne’s smoking tin into something resembling the saddest, limpest little joint in the world. A joint Eddie’s just lit when a sharpish knock at the trailer door interrupts him. Which isn’t in itself unusual so much as bothersome. It’s déja vu, or, not at all, because he’s been here before, hasn’t he? Staring down a battered and bruised Steve Harrington. “We have to stop meeting like this,” says Eddie’s mouth before his brain can try to stop it. --- Or, the three times Steve goes to Eddie's trailer looking for something to take the edge off, and the one time Eddie finds out why Steve looks so haunted.

To request a podfic read this and then click the “request a podfic” link above.

At the moment I am only taking requests from the Avengers, Hobbit, or Lord of the Rings fandoms. Please keep them under about 10,000 words (if they go a little over that’s okay, just keep it reasonable.

All requests must also come with permission from the original author.

What an amazing idea! Thank you, guys, for being so generous to us podfic addicts!