#Eddie munson meta

[every-dayiwakeup]

On the ST fandom making up "angsty" headcanons for characters like Steve and Eddie:

Steve's parents being abusive is a headcanon. It does not exist in canon, so therefore it is not canon.

There are other angsty headcanons you can create for Steve that are backed by canon, like for example: nightmares about the creatures he's fought. Why not explore him always grabbing the object closest to him and wielding it as a weapon when it's dark and he hears a bump in the night or something. You could say that he can't sleep at night so he falls asleep during class. But no, y'all chose to give him abusive parents.

You've done that to Eddie, too. There are abusive parents in the show like Lonnie Byers and Neil Hargrove. You just don't want to acknowledge Neil because you don't want to acknowledge that Billy is an abuse* victim. Wayne Munson is not an abuser. You've made a privileged white boy and a dude who lives in a trailer park into abuse victims but they are not. That is a headcanon.

Eddie watched two people die horrific deaths in front of him. He has guilt about running away. That is canon. But y'all have to give him Billy's trauma. It's really weird that you hate Billy so much but your version of Eddie is morphing into Billy Hargrove. So which one is it? You want the ✨️aesthetic✨️ of trauma for your "favorites". The Duffers have a fandom that fits their victim blaming ideology like a glove. You want to play Build a Victim rather than accepting a canon victim, which is extremely fucked up.

[lazylittledragon]

just realised i never posted any of the stuff i did for the alternative steddie dads au

[steddielations]

once again thinking about how Eddie’s realization that Steve’s actually a good dude probably has to do with how Steve kept making sure he was in the loop (girl with superpowers) and placating his worries without making it seem silly (Dustin’s not cursed, just mental) and never once making Eddie feel dumb for trying to keep up and going blank under stress (not saying ‘you should already know’ when explaining the hive mind) I know we love how Eddie doesn’t make Steve feel dumb about the Ozzy reference, but Steve was also doing that for Eddie too for most of the season

Just thinking, with Eddie having failed grades and clearly struggled in school and not being seen as “traditionally” smart, he’s definitely been treated like he’s stupid before. Both him and Steve know what it’s like to feel dumb and they made such a point not to treat each other that way and it’s so!!!

[flowercrowngods]

who did this to you. part 3

🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!

The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now. 

Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard. 

The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work. 

“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“ 

“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone. 

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened? 

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it. 

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?” 

No. “Thanks.” 

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening. 

He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she— 

“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees. 

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again. 

“Hi.” 

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“ 

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.” 

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe. 

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again. 

“What about Steve.” 

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth. 

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.” 

“He… He’s hurt.” 

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.” 

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“ 

“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.” 

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her. 

“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it. 

One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall. 

Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled. 

It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he— 

He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine. 

People don’t just die. 

They don’t. 

He’s fine. 

Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.

Eddie can relate.

Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression. 

Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this. 

It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently. 

And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue. 

But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time. 

He needs a smoke. 

He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life. 

But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes. 

It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles. 

“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him. 

Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him. 

She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt. 

I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.

But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit. 

But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or— 

“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today. 

“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate. 

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. 

“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.” 

And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while. 

She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.

He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?

But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie. 

That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 

“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.” 

There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug. 

“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it. 

But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself. 

“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t? 

So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs. 

“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off. 

Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?” 

It’s stupid. Don’t say it. 

“Eddie?” 

With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”

Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out. 

He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues. 

“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state. 

“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing. 

Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year. 

She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three? 

It seems surreal. Everything, everything does. 

Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues. 

Her favourite colour. Her favourite person. 

It’s so fucking surreal. 

He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead. 

And silence reigns. 

“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.” 

There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped. 

Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues. 

“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”

“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.” 

Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat. 

“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.” 

Tell me about your favourite person. 

Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into. 

And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”

She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her. 

“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.” 

There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication. 

“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?” 

Sniffling, Robin shakes her head. 

“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.” 

He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin. 

“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…” 

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now. 

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does. 

There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there. 

He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now. 

There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him. 

And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then. 

So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare. 

It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve. 

“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring. 

What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next. 

“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.” 

What?

Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.

“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.” 

That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean? 

“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.” 

And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse. 

Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley. 

Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth. 

And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley. 

It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing. 

“Why’d you call me?” 

It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson. 

He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips. 

“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”

Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.” 

She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession. 

“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?” 

Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow. 

“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?” 

And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue. 

Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers. 

“What, the ice cream parlour?” 

Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…” 

She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses. 

Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened. 

“He saved your life?” 

Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation. 

“In the fire? Were you there?” 

“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.” 

Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again. 

“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters. 

“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?” 

“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.” 

“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.” 

It is, isn’t it? 

You’re so blue, Stevie. 

She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.

Blue. ‘S nice. 

Yeah. Yeah, he is. 

Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look. 

Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago. 

He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around. 

Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around. 

And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait. 

The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence. 

“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?” 

“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.” 

🤍🌷 tagging:

@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)

[queenie-ofthe-void]

🪱🧠Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱

Tagged by @wheneverfeasible 💜 I'm a week late but I got there. This is also me tagging you back!

~~~

I'm thinking about Steve Harrington growing up hating everyone.

His dad is cruel, so he hates him.

His mom tells him men are dogs. Men are pigs. Men will do or say anything to get what they want. So he hates her.

The boys at school are cruel like his dad, just like his mom warned him, so he hates them.

He starts high school. He's tall, with big eyes, thick hair, and cute lips. Girls were nice to him, he thought they were friends. But they only did what they did and said what they said to crawl under him and wield him like a trophy. So he hates them.

Hates them less when he's buried inside them. Hates them more when they leave the same night.

He's a man now, just like his dad. So he hates himself.

Carol's the same as other girls, but different. She leaves but comes back sometimes. Hangs around. She meets Tommy, and Steve likes Tommy. But they're mean to Nancy, and Nancy's the only thing Steve loves. So he hates them too.

He hates Billy. Hates him as much as he hates his father. Billy's easy to hate.

Nancy thinks he's bullshit. He tries to hate her, but it's hard.

The kids... he can't find a reason to hate them. They're loud and obnoxious and snappy, but they like him. They always come around. They call him out when he's bitchy, and he likes that. He chases after them, drives them around. Shoots hoops with Lucas, let's Max teach him how to skateboard, does most of the heavy lifting for Dustin's experiments.

There's no way he can hate them.

And that's when he realizes how fucking draining it is to hate that many people. He's exhausted. So he decides to stop.

Robin wants him to hate her. She's desperate for it because that would make everything so much easier. He doesn't hate her. And she finds she can't hate him in return.

Eddie's the first person he meets who likes him. Doesn't want anything from him, isn't using him, doesn't hate him, doesn't just see him as a protector or babysitter or a good fuck or a failure or an idiot. Eddie likes him for him, exactly the way he is.

It's easy to love Eddie.

@runninriot @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @sadisticaltarts @devondespresso @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

@strangersteddierthings

[corrodedbisexual]

The way Eddie can't even accept at first that they truly believe his story. Because not knowing about the Upside Down, it does sound insane. Who knows what Eddie had been thinking the entire time on the run. Shocked, terrified, alone and helpless. Must have turned that memory over in his head a thousand times, and it did not make sense, it could not make sense, it was impossible. If the party hadn't found him, I imagine he could have actually ended up convincing himself that he did somehow kill Chrissy, and the rest was some hallucination from drugs he didn't remember taking.

[qprstobin]

I'm gonna be frank, Eddie just does not give me the impression that he was bullied all that much in high school to me. Especially as he got older, like he was the school drug dealer, he was not getting beat up by the same jocks who were going to be buying from him later that week. It just doesn't make sense to me!

I'm not saying he was never bullied at all (personally I think he was probably bullied by the people in his grade in like middle school, but leant more into the satanic image by the time he got to high school (which is when the satanic panic wouldve been starting) and people became more afraid to mess with him or it stopped when BS started dealing) or that people can't headcanon and project onto pm. It's fandom, do what you want lol. I've just gotten to the point where fics lose me whenever they claim Tommy/Steve/Jason was going around beating the shit out of him or shoving him in the halls every week or the like. Eddie just does not give the impression that he is scared of the jocks normally. He looks down on them and thinks he's better than them! He taunts them openly in front of everyone and pontificates on table tops.

I think if you take it in that context too, it makes the town turning on him more sinister? Like obviously, satanic panic was only growing at that point, and it was within the last year or two they started pointing at metal and D&D as recruiting centers for satanic cults. (Eddie also like an asshole is walking around with a satanic symbol on his jacket - peak edgy teen in the middle of a moral outcry.) But while people might've been afraid of him, and most definitely talked about him behind his back, that's worlds away from mob violence. The change was startling, even if Eddie might be able to see it on the horizon.

Idk to me that's more of what the hunt the freak line was about. The knowledge that they could turn on you and would if you gave them a reason (or if you want to go with the Eddie is closeted interpretation - if he got outed). I think he probably has been called the freak for a while but honestly I think he's proud of it at this point.

Obviously all of this is up to interpretation, I guess I've just gotten to the point where a lot of the popular fanon interpretation doesn't feel like Eddie to me anymore

[kedreeva]

hello, tonight I've decided to be emotional about the blood still staining Eddie's guitar pick necklace chain. There's no chance that Dustin didn't notice it, so he purposely didn't clean it off. He doesn't look like he expected to see Wayne or maybe he would have. As it stands, this is all Dustin has to give to Eddie's only family: the blood he shed trying to be a hero when all Dustin and Wayne both wanted was for him to come home safely.

[steddielations]

gotta talk about how Eddie didn’t understand the hive mind until Steve explained it for him, and he didn’t question Steve or doubt him at all, he just trusted Steve’s word. that must’ve been validating for Steve, who’s usually the one getting things explained to him or having to argue his point so people listen

something about, Steve knows what it’s like to be out of the loop and he kept trying to make sure Eddie was keeping up, to the point of over-explaining and Eddie’s like “yes you mentioned the superpower girl thank you now please tell me our son isn’t cursed”

and yeah maybe Eddie should’ve known what a hive mind is since he’s super into fantasy sci-fi, but he was under a ton of stress and instead of Steve being like “you of all people should know” he just broke it down for him and i love that actually

so when Steve doesn’t get the Ozzy reference later, maybe Eddie was just giving Steve the same understanding that Steve gave to him, explaining it and not making him feel dumb for not knowing

[augustjustice]

Living Dead Boy

rating: T | wc: 1.3k | cw: angst, fixation on death, survivor's guilt, ambiguous ending | tags: meta, prose poem, 2nd person, horror movie allusions, steve pov, steddie (technically)

AO3 Link

Notes: Sometimes, I think about how Steve was supposed to die in Season 1. ...A lot.

You are a character in a horror movie. 

In fact, you’re a very specific character in a horror movie. 

At best, you're eye candy, like Johnny Depp and his crop top in that movie you saw later, about nightmares and the guy with the blades on the end of his fingertips. A Nightmare on…something. Maple Street, is what it would be, if this was your life. 

(You sure as shit hope that’s not a thing, the part about dying in your dreams. You’ve had far too many nasty ones, since everything that happened, to get trapped inside them forever.) 

But, at worst, you’re…well.

You’re Asshole Boyfriend #1. You know, the preppy guy. The popular guy. The guy who’s a little bit dumb and a lot too douchey, who drinks too much and parties too hard and sleeps around. 

The point is, you’re the wrong guy.

Certainly the wrong guy for the flinty eyed girl who makes it all the way to the final credits, the one with her backbone of steel. She’s a little virginal. And smart, way too smart for you. Intrepid and daring, she’s gonna hack her way to the end, maybe swan off into the arms of Sensitive-Eyed Nerd Boyfriend #2, because, let’s face it. He’s always deserved her more than you have, anyway. 

That is, she will, at least…if she isn’t the only one to make it out of the story alive.

The point is…the point is, your fate has already been foretold. Cacked off somewhere towards the end of the second act, hoisted by your own petard. If this were another movie, the more salacious ones they play down at the drive-in two towns over from Hawkins, maybe you would have kicked it caught in the act, the little death becoming the big one as you offer the Final Girl the ultimate betrayal. 

Your horror movie’s a little classier than that, but that doesn’t mean you won’t meet the same fate. Not after what you and your friends do to our heroine, spewing bile at her in big-spray painted letters for everybody to see. 

You fucked it. There’ll be no coming back, not after that. You’ll die, and all that will be left is a visceral satisfaction on the audience’s part to see you go.

Because, let’s face it…you had it coming, didn’t you? 

It’s been said before. Not etched out in stone but typed out in ink. There’s no changing it. 

Your story’s already been written long ago.

—

But then, at the end of the story, you…don’t die.

You were supposed to, you think. You’re pretty sure, at least.

That’s how these things go. Right?

At least, that’s what you picked up on, during the late night horror marathons you can’t stop putting on after for their grim familiarity. A taste that follows you all the way to your job at Family Video, when your best friend and you watch them with dead-eyed fascination. 

It’s been prophesied, or whatever the hell the kids would say. Foreshadowed by all the shitty meathead boyfriends who came before you, your story sealed in their blood. 

Except…you don’t.

You don’t die. 

—

It's like you've been given this life–this second chance that you were never even supposed to have–and, the truth is, now you don't know what to do with it.

So, in the aftermath, you loiter and drift, lost without a real, clear sense of purpose.

At first, you and Nancy–beautiful Nancy, the girl who always makes it out alive, who was always meant to–dance around each other, because…well, because what else are you supposed to do? You’re Nancy Wheeler's boyfriend. That's who you're supposed to be. 

If you're not that, then.. what even are you?

—

That’s a great fucking question, one fate doesn’t seem content to let go without giving you a pop quiz. After all, you’ve seen this one before…Asshole Boyfriend #1 or Sensitive-Eyed Nerd #2. Who will she choose?

…Was it ever even really a question? 

—

So, you aren’t Nancy Wheeler’s boyfriend, and you’re not dead either. 

But, you know what you are great at?

Being cannon fodder. 

And, okay, so…maybe, if someone looked at it too closely, they might accuse you of having a death wish of some sort. 

But…that's not exactly right, is it? It can’t be. Because why shouldn't you be the human shield? You were supposed to be dead already, and you know it, so…it just makes sense. 

What other point is there to you?

—

The horrors keep coming back…they never really die, right? Always gotta show up for the sequel. 

And you keep stepping in front of them, because, like you already said…not much else you can do. Each and every time, you think this is it, you’ve reached the end of the line. Fate’s finally gonna catch up with you, take back what it meant to at the start. 

But somehow, against all odds…you keep coming out alive. No matter how many hits you take, how bloodied and battered you end the night. You’re still standing. 

—

The series has made it all the way to Upside Down Horrors Part 4. And, okay, so maybe you think about it every round, but this one…

You’re pretty sure you were supposed to die. For real this time.

But he died in your place. Splayed out, bloody, in your shared pseudo-little brother's arms. 

There’s no way it wasn’t meant to be you. 

Because, you and Eddie Munson, you’ve got nothing in common, right? Fallen King of Hawkins High and the King of the Freaks, what could you possibly? 

Except for all the things you do. 

He’s the mentor and reluctant babysitter of the party. The guy the kids look up to with stars in their eyes. 

Just like you are. 

He ran, that first time around, when the shit hit too close to home. 

Just like you did. 

A girl died in his house, and the guilt gnaws away at him, keeps him locked in a chokehold. 

Just. Like. You.

He’s even goofy and dramatic, makes his protests of your friends’ reckless plans known with the same loud chorus of No, no, no as you do. 

Hell, the parallels are so obvious, you were jealous of him, before. Afraid he was taking your place. You’d barely managed to carve out a spot in the narrative for yourself–you sure as shit didn’t need extra competition.

Now, you’re just glad to have somebody else on your side, for once. 

And there’s no way he doesn’t make it out of this one alive, right? I mean, Revenge of the Nerds, that’s all the rage. Guys like you get cut off at the knees, pay for your sins with humiliation or death while the audience cheers, vindicated at long last. 

But geeky loner outsiders? They come out on top. 

It’s poetic justice, or some shit. Robin would know.

So, that’s how you know it. That the narrative has slipped the tracks yet again. 

Because the one time you weren’t playing human shield, Munson gets the short end of the stick in your place?

It isn’t right. It isn’t fair. 

The universe is just fucking with you, at this point, you’re sure of it. Eddie was never meant for this.

It was supposed to be you. 

—

You can’t even call yourself surprised, when the boy who died in your place claws his way out of his grave like a creature in an old black-and-white monster movie, craving blood and covered in ichor.

And the truth is…it’s so easy, from there. You’ve been waiting so long for this moment, and you didn’t even know it until now.

So, when his wings wrap around your shoulders, you fall into Death’s loving embrace like an old friend. 

After all…you were supposed to be dead for years now.

[fastcardotmp3]

“Fuck ‘till death do we part,” Steve presses their foreheads together hard enough to feel the wrinkle in between Steve’s brow, “we’re long past that, baby.” 

Eddie laughs a watery, startled sound from deep inside of him, stale around the edges but true in nature just like the rest of it. 

“‘Till afterdeath,” he grins, the slip of tears down his cheeks transferring onto Steve’s when he kisses the corner of his mouth, nuzzling in so, impossibly close.

» sequel fic to METAMORPHOSES  » rated E | 7.9k words | steddie

read 'TILL AFTERDEATH on ao3

[corrodedbisexual]

So what I've seen a lot in the "Eddie survived, Vecna's dead, happy end" fic timelines (aka "what we all agree actually happened") is that the Munsons' trailer was completely destroyed, along with all of Eddie's stuff, his precious sweetheart, his music collection, etc. etc. So I rewatched that scene several times for my own fic's purposes. And hey, you know what, I think Eddie's stuff is fine.

We see how the upside down crack starts from the gate and rips through the trailer's outer wall, and obviously, RIP the mug collection.

BUT. The crack only goes in one direction, and we don't see the other side of the trailer, where Eddie's room is, affected in any way.

This wasn't exactly a normal earthquake. Like, buildings that were at the very epicenter of that final blast seem completely unaffected, as long as they weren't in the way of the cracks / vines. Also, as long as the crack doesn't go right through it, a part of a building would be left standing.

TL;DR Eddie's room was most likely just fine and he'd probably be able to get his precious guitar and everything eventually. Sorry about your stuff uncle Wayne.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[qprstobin]

It's interesting to me that the fandom looks at the "Steve Harrington isn't an asshole after all" line and 1) lords it as the first time Steve's gotten a compliment from a friend on screen and 2) that it's about Steve's growth as a character. Like I'm a Steve girlie don't get me wrong, that man is my pride and joy, but that line/exchange was very much about Eddie.

There's a whole layer of Eddie's story that fandom seems to love to ignore, in that the whole season he is grappling with the fact that the way he viewed the world (based largely on stereotypes and his viewpoint being the correct amount of nonconforming) is wrong. That's what the Munson Doctrine is all about. That preps act a certain way, that band geeks act a certain way, and that jocks act a certain way.

And he is finding out that this is wrong! That these people he judged as shallow his whole high school career and beyond are not actually as shallow as they appear! First it was Chrissy, then it was Steve and Nancy and even Robin!

And this isn't an insult lobbed at Eddie that he's uniquely ignorant lol. This is something all the teens (minus Argyle rip) go through when they get introduced to the Upside Down. Jonathan literally calls Nancy shallow and fake while defending the creep shots. Robin of course has her own "Mr. Cool Mr. Funny" speech about Steve in s3 and then later calls Nancy a priss. Nancy's is probably the most obvious because, yaknow, Barb

Like a key theme to the teens' Upside Down introduction arcs is that not only is their physical world being flipped on its head, but also that the petty shit that seems important isn't actually that important when your life is being threatened. Being introduced to the Upside Down very much also removes them from the main stream of high school life, and so even when they return to school they are not focused on the same social BS that they are before.

It really is nothing about Steve or Steve "changing". They don't know each other lol, I doubt either of them have given each other much thought before the kids joined Hellfire. But Eddie believed the world worked a certain way, and very much judged people for what their interests were and whether he considered them to be "conforming" or not. (Which, wasn't just about being a jock lol, he calls out the band kids and science kids before he even gets to the jocks and the partiers.) The Upside Down experience makes him realize that he is fitting people into boxes in the same way that he was protesting against.

It's actually really fun character growth, and a fun parallel I think to the other characters but especially s1 Steve. I really like it a lot and wish that fandom included it more in fics. It's wild to me that this aspect of Eddie's journey has just been completely dropped.

[otteranha]

Thinking about how there’s one area in which Steve can, in fact, be described as a film buff. When he shows up for his turn at picking the movie with a bunch of classic westerns. Everyone except Robin (too much respect for film history) and Nancy (too much respect for herself) moan and groan, fake gag and roll their eyes and generally gripe about Steve’s selections. It’s baffling and honestly more than a little hurtful. The rule that month to pick only movies made before 1965 was Robin’s idea, not Steve’s. And he’s watched everyone else’s picks without complaints (at least, not this level of complaint).

“Sorry Steve,” Dustin at least gives him a verbal explanation instead of just making fake snoring noises, “Just seems really old and stuffy and unrelatable.”

“But it’s Stagecoach, it’s about a group of outsiders drawn together in dangerous circumstances trying to survive! How is that not relatable?” He protests, “And everything else we watched this month was old!”

He gets a head waggle in response that seems to mean that it’s just different when he’s the one whose taste is on the line.

“Yeah but really Steve?” Max adds, “All that cowboys and Indians crap? What are you, six?”

“I brought High Noon too, they’re not fighting Indians in that. He looks around for any support.

“Just not our communal cup of tea. We’re more of a science fiction-fantasy crowd Stevie,” Eddie looks unenthused then grins, “But you should ask Wayne if he wants to do a movie night.”

Steve cringes- it’s true Westerns had been his grandfather’s favorite thing. Before he was old enough to stay by himself it had always been fun staying with his grandparents, watching them on tv in the afternoon. It was a little bit square for his friends but still… “But it’s all what do you call ‘em? Epics. Teams of outlaws living by their own rules, betrayal, battles between good and evil, friends dying to protect each other, hero stories! You nerds love that shit!”

They remain unconvinced. It sucks. Steve really thought he was on to something, nervous for weeks that he wouldn’t know any old movies to pick except Snow White or something dorky like that. And when the 1965 rule was up next month he’d thought he could bring Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (more confusing to his early sexuality than even Star Wars) or maybe The Wild Bunch - one of his only really good memories of spending a day with his dad was when he’d taken Steve to watch it at the old movie theater near his office. School was closed and his mother was doing the Christmas shopping and dropped Steve off so he wouldn’t slow her down. For once his dad hadn’t immediately palmed Steve off on his secretary to babysit, but had declared that the two of them would play hooky and spend the afternoon at the movies. His mother was so mad that his father had let him watch such a violent movie but Steve had been enthralled.

part 2

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

And another thing….

Steve is the only character we see on screen who attempts to apologize repeatedly within the narrative (I say “attempts” because he never makes it to Nancy in season 2). He apologizes to Jonathan and Nancy almost immediately in season 1 which is the entire reason he’s at the Byers house for the fight; he goes the Nancy’s house to apologize to her after she’s essentially told him she doesn’t love him which, again, is the whole reason he gets roped into the junkyard fight; when it becomes clear that Nancy has feelings for Jonathan and not him in season 2, he reassures her and tells her it’s okay even though she cheated on him (and this is not to vilify Nancy, I love her—but I know people argue that she didn’t cheat, but we do not see an actual breakup on screen); he apologizes to Robin in the bathroom (he doesn’t explicitly say the words “I’m sorry” if I recall correctly, but that’s essentially what’s happening, even after a week of being called stupid and a dingus, etc for really just being terrible at flirting with girls); when he hurts Dustin’s feelings in ST4 in the car he immediately apologizes to him. People are regularly calling him stupid and insulting him and we really never see anyone apologize to him (only Eddie! In the Upside Down! Who apologizes for making assumptions!). Even at the end of ST4, Jonathan is STILL insulting him, despite Steve protecting the kids at all costs even though he doesn’t have to at all (he’s not related to any of them, it would really just be 10x easier for him to walk away, but he DOESNT). I love Nancy Wheeler for sticking up for him there. Common Nance Wheeler W.

Like, I guess I just don’t really get why people really want to see him as a bully (even a former bully). If we take all the evidence we see on screen, his asshole behavior is really just being overly emotional/overreacting without communicating and being self-absorbed/self-centered to the point of not noticing people who are framed as outsiders by the narrative anyway. Typical teenage behavior??

Again it just seems like a disservice to both Eddie and Steve to create a bully dynamic between the two of them. I just don’t like it 😩😩😩

[findafight]

Been thinking about @thestobingirlie 's posts 1. 2. 3. talking about how Eddie was a suspect because Chrissy's body was found in his house, but how it's sort of framed that he was hunted because he was a "freak", and I've realized it would have been...pretty easy for the Duffers to make it so that it was clear bias against Eddie, instead of having Chrissy die in his house without him having an alibi.

The picnic table. It was already established to have been a place people knew Eddie would be, but it's public. Sure Eddie is associated with it but he didn't own it. It wasnt his house. If they wanted the hunt for Eddie to be unjust and illogical, this is where Chrissy should have died. Eddie could have told her to meet him there after the game so he had time between school and Hellfire to pick up the drugs for her. And then she could have been vecna'd, and Eddie could have run away.

The town would be shocked and confused, but highschoolers would be clocking that it was at Eddie's drug dealing table. That could have stirred Jason up, (in combination with his hometown being cursed, his girlfriend dying horribly, and his possibly already demonstrated extreme religious beliefs) even though there was no proof Eddie had even been there with Chrissy.

To get the Party and co. Involved maybe Dustin overheard Eddie tell Jeff or someone he was seeing Chrissy later, or maybe Max saw him rummaging through his trailer talking to himself and eavesdropped, hearing him mention how wild it was to be dealing Chrissy special K. Maybe Steve was driving back from dropping his date off and saw lights flicker around the school.

This way, Eddie is still a wanted man, but it is much less so visibly his fault (even though he WAS there when Chrissy died. No one had reason to think that). And it would highlight how irrational satanic panic shit was without looking as logical as canon(like yeah OBVIOUSLY the guy whose house her body was found in is a suspect!!).