#erica - lady applejack

[morganbritton132]

Eddie post a video like: Everybody in Hawkins thought I was a satan worshipper because I had tattoos and played D&D. Meanwhile, they were leaving Mr. Babysitter over here in charge of their kids when he just reminded me that he shoved a kid in an air vent once

Steve: You’re missing the nuance

Eddie: Which is?

Steve: I wasn’t babysitting… and Dustin didn’t fit anyways.

Eddie: What about Lady Applejack?

Steve: She was compensated!

Erica, in the comments: No, I wasn’t! I never got any ice cream. You and Robin were in breach of contract!

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[tennant-the-tigger]

Steve and Erica

Steve babysitting Erica and Holly. Erica telling him that the proper way to drink tea is to stick your pinky finger out. Steve doesn’t understand the point of it but does it anyway because tea time means Erica spilling the neighbourhood tea time.

My Stranger Things Art | Steve’s Mcnuggets | Instagram

[unsteady-but-trying]

Omg I’m rewatching season 3 & when Dustin & Erica are in the vents & Dustin is explaining why she’s a nerd, one of the reasons being her love for My Little Pony, he starts recounting the lore & names different ponies including Applejack:

& then in season 4 when she gets into DnD, her character name is Lady Applejack! I think that’s such a cute way to callback to her love of My Little Pony

[madwheelerz]

Completely unhinged au, but Lucas, El, Max, and Will are all superheroes saving the day

meanwhile

Mike and Dustin along with Erica are totally spying this up. Like instead of Jerry from Totally Spies it's Mike's nana. Also Holly is a spy in-training.

[onedirection57er]

Free hellfire club edit into

[thepastdied]

My heart is warm😭😭

#Welcome to Hellfire

[briarberrythornedhart]

How are we staving off ennui? I’m writing a Eddie Munson is damn lucky to have Erica Sinclair as his friend at the Renaissance Fair fic at present.

[darkphoenix180]

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

God I love Dustin Henderson so much man, I know Will is in love with Mike because only a deeply down bad homosexual would be able to say Mike “is the heart” when Dustin is alive and in the party. Dustin is the one constantly mediating in S1 between Mike and Lucas, he’s even insecure of his own newness to the group when he conciliates. Because even though the party are all HIS best friends he is able to rationalize why they might have a hierarchy based on seniority. Mike makes it clear that isn’t the case. It’s partly why Dustin is quicker to accept Eleven and partly why he’s so open to including Max “as the new kid” because that was him once. Dustin’s iconic “she’s our friend and she’s crazy!” Dustin and Lucas having parallel deviations from their code of honor in ST2 and Dustin being (so dramatic ik) literally ready to fall on the sword for his misdoings. Dustin basically involving Steve out of necessity but then cultivating that relationship to make Steve a good friend, Steve who had the shittiest friends in high school and attention for all the wrong reasons. Steve never had a true friend in his life and then some 12 year old basically gave him a crash course. In ST3 when Dustin earnestly challenges Steve’s socially conditioned need to be seen as cool only for Steve to become bffs with a band geek. A band geek who is also a lesbian that Steve would rather be seen as a rizzless hack of a womanizer than out her to anybody, even Dustin. All of Dustin and Steve. Dustin going from calling Steve a douchebag, to Eddie saying the kid worships him and thinks he’s a total badass. Dustin who in ST4 is once again demolishing social norms of high school vs middle school because FUCK, his friend is in middle school! His friend Erica, his comrade Lady Applejack, is a black girl in junior high and he dgaf what anyone thinks about it. ALL OF DUSTIN AND ERICA. Dustin teaching Erica to embrace her inner nerd, to Erica staunchly declaring “I’ve bled with him!” When asked if she knows Dustin. Dustin who is the FIRST person that Max goes to when shit hits the fan in ST4 because god damn dude Dustin is the heart. Dustin’s unwavering support of Eddie even when the evidence is stacked against him, Dustin always believed in Eddie Munson. Dustin is the only one who truly offers Wayne condolences. He is the friend of all friends. Dustin is constantly carrying the party through crisis and discomfort, he’s dedicated, he’s unabashedly caring, and he’s the character that is able to socially move across the board in every direction. I fuckin love this little curly haired drama king because these geeks would be LOST without him!!! If Dustin isn’t the heart; he’s the Central Nervous System, he’s the nucleus, he’s fucking vital to not only the party but every other tertiary character of importance. He’s constantly inspiring and providing direction. He’s a goofball, he’s wise beyond his years, he’s a lover and he’s a fighter, he always has a plan and he always has a bad idea, he’s the voice of reason and the resounding falsetto alarm of things gone wrong, he’s never done anything wrong ever in his life, one time something ate his cat but besides that. He’s my heart of the show damn it!

[royale1803]

Erica my Queen, tell him

Whole 10 seasons show with these two as main characters, please!

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, posting this TikTok: Uh, excuse me? Why are some of y’all saying I don’t know Erica Sinclair? That I don’t know Lady Applejack?? I know her!

Eddie: Because-

Eddie: *aggressively holds up picture of the Scoops Troop eating ice cream together a week after Starcourt to the camera*

Eddie: I-

Eddie: *holds up picture of Steve giving Erica a piggyback ride so her shoes didn’t get wet*

Eddie: Married-

Eddie: *holds up picture of Sue Sinclair showing Steve how she braids Erica’s hair*

Eddie: Her-

Eddie: *shows picture of Charles Sinclair, Lucas, and Steve moving Erica’s stuff into her dorm room. Erica and Eddie are in the background with no intention of helping out*

Eddie: Dad!

Eddie: *shows picture of Steve and Erica on the campaign trail. Steve’s got a shirt that says ‘you can’t spell America without Erica. Eddie’s photobombing in the background to give them both bunny ears.*

Eddie: Also, we played D&D together *shows picture of a Hellfire campaign*

[unfinishedslurs]

gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. 

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos. 

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter. 

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt. 

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then. 

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole. 

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out. 

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh. 

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks. 

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.” 

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve. 

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time. 

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country. 

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here. 

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn. 

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears. 

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken. 

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening. 

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone. 

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone. 

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs. 

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone. 

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt. 

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters. 

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car? 

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho.  And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute. 

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is. 

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says. 

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums. 

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish. 

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham. 

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else. 

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time. 

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again. 

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles. 

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands. 

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut. 

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest. 

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses. 

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees. 

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink. 

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before. 

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt. 

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips. 

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful. 

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message. 

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out. 

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall. 

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently. 

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it. 

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them. 

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock. 

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex. 

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner. 

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity. 

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly. 

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” 

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument. 

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve. 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares. 

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder. 

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Eddie is such a name lengthening type of guy. Steve is steven. Dustin is Dustinberg. Mike is Micheal. Lucas is I Love Lucas. Max is Red or Pippy Long Stocking. He calls El so many different things but NEVER eleven. Her favorite is Waffle House. Will is Will the Wise. Sometimes he calls him Sir William and it makes Will blush a little bit.

Erica is always Lady Applejack, he'd used something else once and she'd hit him so hard he had a bruise on his arm for a week. He calls Nancy, Nancy Drew and it makes her not hate the nickname anymore. Robin is Robert. She loves it. Calls him Edwin. He loves it.

He's got weird names for everyone but none of them are shorter then their actual names. Sometimes it's just a simple usage of their last names. But never anything shorter.

He calls Steve, Steven one day when they're alone, whispers it when Steve presses close to him in the kitchen, Eddie had gone to get them drinks and Steve just, followed him.

And Steve presses closer, whispers,  "Edward". And it makes Eddie scrunch his face cuz nooo no no nope, real names are not allowed. But Steve smooths his thumb over the creases between Eddie's eyebrows and then he's kissing Eddie.

And Eddie decides maybe it's fine. Maybe Steve can call him Edward... Sometimes. Anytime he wants. As long as he kisses him after.

[ohburrryoureabsolutelyridiculous]

He was no match & in no way prepared for her sass.

this has to be my favorite scene of eddie

[steddieas-shegoes]

The first time Dustin tried to get Steve and Eddie to meet, Eddie refused.

“You expect me to be nice to Steve Harrington? The King of Hawkins High?”

“I told you, that’s old news,” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Last year isn’t exactly old news, Henderson.”

So Dustin let it be.

— — — — —

The second time they didn’t have a choice.

Eddie was wanted for murders he didn’t commit, and Steve was well-versed in the ways of the Upside Down.

When Eddie almost died, it was Steve who was able to carry him through the gate.

When Eddie was in the hospital for three weeks, it was Steve who sat by his side every night so he wouldn’t be alone with his nightmares.

When Eddie got out, it was Steve who brought him to his appointments and helped him get settled in the new government-provided house for him and Wayne.

When Eddie thought about it, Steve was probably the nicest guy he’d ever met.

— — — — — — — —

But Steve ended up having to go back to work when things got fixed up.

His parents left him the house, but otherwise cut him off.

Groceries and gas don’t pay for themselves.

So he saw him for an hour here or a few minutes there, always checking in when he dropped Dustin and Mike off for D&D.

Eddie started to wonder if Steve only hung out with him because he had like, survivors guilt or something. He had been so kind and caring, but clearly the clock ran out on that.

But to Dustin, it was just a reset.

Steve hadn’t changed, just his available time.

And it was time to do something about it.

— — — — — — —

They say the third time’s the charm, but in this case, it wasn’t.

In fact, Dustin almost gave up when this result ended in Eddie telling Steve to go fuck himself.

He didn’t know what happened, and he never found out, but Steve looked hurt, and Eddie shut himself in his room for three days.

— — — — — — —

Dustin was sick.

The flu was running rampant through the streets and school halls of Hawkins, leaving no person left untouched by the worst nausea and body aches known to humankind.

Also, Eddie’s dramatics may have been rubbing off on him. Just a little.

So he couldn’t go to Hellfire, and without him, they couldn’t finish the campaign.

But in his drug-addled mind, he thought of a resolution. Potentially. But bribery would have to be involved.

So he called Steve.

“Steve.” He turned up the pitifully low rasp of his voice to make it seem like he was dying. “I need you to cover me at Hellfire.”

“Why? So Eddie can tell me to go fuck myself again? No thanks.”

“Dude. Please. I’m too sick. Everyone’s been wanting to finish this campaign for a month.”

“Can’t they reschedule when you’re better.”

Well, yeah, probably. Eddie had been way more open to rescheduling since everything happened.

That would ruin his plan, though.

“C’mon, Steve! I’ll owe you!” He coughed to add to the drama of it all.

“Fine! Fine.” Steve sighed. “I hope you know you’re gonna lose.”

“Nah, it’s a team effort. Everyone will help you.”

“Sure.” Then, because Steve was Steve: “Need anything, Henderson?”

Dustin almost felt bad about what he was making Steve do. Almost.

“No, mom’s making me a broth soup to try to sip on.”

“Okay, call tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

If Dustin wasn’t as sick as he was, he probably would have tried to stay awake to call tonight.

But he fell asleep within minutes.

— — — — — — — —

“I’m sorry, you’re what?”

Steve rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips. “Filling in for Dustin. He’s sick.”

“You can’t do that.”

“He said I could.”

“He doesn’t run Hellfire, does he?”

“Shouldn’t he? Since you graduated?”

Eddie glared.

“If you two are done bickering like old ladies fighting over the same man in the nursing home, we have a campaign to finish,” Erica said from her seat, looking at her nails instead of at them.

“You heard Lady Applejack,” Eddie gestures towards the table.

Steve sat in the largest chair at the end and leaned back.

Everyone was staring at him.

“You’re not that dense. You can’t be.”

Steve looked up at Eddie with a smirk.

“Is there a problem?”

“That’s the DM seat. I’m the DM. Therefore, my seat.”

“It’s big enough to share. I like the view from here.”

“You can see all my notes from here!”

“Exactly.”

Eddie’s face was so red, it was a wonder he hadn’t exploded yet.

But he didn’t continue arguing. To Steve’s delight, and Dustin’s if he were there to see it, Eddie sat down on the edge of the chair. Steve scooted over a little, but they were pushing each other and being immature and stupid.

They both fell on their asses and Lucas finally spoke up.

“Can we just reschedule? This isn’t gonna work.”

“No. We’re so close. Dustin wouldn’t have sent Steve if he wanted us to reschedule.”

Eddie looked at Steve, searching his face for something. Whatever it was, he must’ve found it.

“Alright. Steve’s in my lap. Let’s go.”

He clapped and pulled himself back into the chair, patting his thigh and smiling at Steve.

“The whole game?”

“It’s this or Dustin’s spot over there.”

Steve wasn’t having that. He deserved this spot.

He stood up and sat down in Eddie’s lap, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered at being close enough to smell the shampoo Eddie used. Eddie’s hands settled on his hips to hold him in place while he leaned around to check his notes.

“Let’s begin!”

Luckily, Steve didn’t have to do much. The rest of the group kind of played for him, knowing he was just a warm body at the table.

And he was certainly warm.

Eddie’s hands had been finding new places to touch on his sides or legs or back or stomach all night. It was distracting. It was annoying. It was intoxicating and addicting and Steve never wanted to leave.

He was completely zoned out, barely registering he was supposed to be an active participant in this fucking game when he felt a light smack on his thigh.

He let out a whine.

And then reality came crashing in.

Everyone was staring at him with raised eyebrows. Eddie was completely still under him. He was mortified.

But he still didn’t want to get up.

He kind of just wanted to turn around and bury his face in Eddie’s neck.

As soon as he has the thought, his body is making it happen. ‘Your wish is my command,’ it’s saying in excitement.

Within seconds, his body is turned facing a shell-shocked Eddie, legs using the space between Eddie’s back and the back of the chair to wrap around his waist, and his face burying itself into his neck. He let out a much quieter whine, and felt his whole body relax.

A hand was on the back of his head, keeping him in place, and he sighed.

He could feel vibrations, like Eddie was speaking, but his head was cloudy and he couldn’t quite figure out what it was he was saying.

It didn’t really matter anyways. He was cozy and safe and relaxed for maybe the first time ever. Unless Eddie physically removed him from his spot, he wasn’t moving.

Time passed, but Steve couldn’t take a guess at how much.

“Stevie? You awake?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna get comfy?”

“Am.”

He felt Eddie laugh more than he heard it, but he just snuggled further into Eddie’s neck, bunching his shirt in his hands.

“Okay, I’m just gonna pick you up and go to the bedroom. It’ll be better to sleep.”

Sleep? Was it that late? Where was everyone else?

“Shhh. It’s okay. Just squeeze your legs around my waist and hold on.”

Steve followed his instructions to the letter and he could’ve sworn he heard Eddie whisper “good boy” into his ear, but that could’ve been wishful thinking.

The next thing he knew, Eddie was sitting on the edge of his own bed with Steve in the same position on his lap.

“Wanna get in comfy clothes?”

Steve shook his head.

He was so tired.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno. Week?”

“A week?! Steve…”

“Shhh. Sleepy.”

“No shit. You haven’t slept in a week.” Eddie sighed and then somehow managed to get them both settled in bed, Steve’s body almost entirely on top of Eddie’s. “Get some rest, sweetheart.”

“Mkay.”

Eddie kissed the top of his head, but he was already almost completely asleep.

— — — — — — —

“So he just…cuddled him? Right there at the table?”

Dustin couldn’t believe his plan worked and he wasn’t even there.

“It was awful,” Erica spit out.

“It was weird,” Lucas added.

“It was disgusting,” Mike said, pointing a glare at Dustin. “I wish I had the flu so I could’ve missed it.”

“And has anyone checked in on them since?”

Two days had passed and Dustin was finally able to keep solid foods down and his fever broke more than 12 hours before. His mom was even going to let him call Suzy later.

“Uh. Should we?”

“Lucas! Dude! They may have turned on each other.”

“Yeah, more like turned each other on,” Erica mumbled.

They all stared at each other, disgusted at the thought of their friend and babysitter being close.

“Gross.”

But Dustin smiled anyway. His plan finally worked.

[meangirlstobin]

erica being into crafts is one of my favourite hcs... she makes friendship bracelets for her little girl gang <3 she handmakes cards for lucas' birthday but pretends to be disinterested while he opens it <3 she felts a mini lady applejack and it sits on her desk for years to come <3 current day erica getting really into lino cutting and making prints <3