#steve wears glasses

[sabrinadelreyy]

let's take a moment to appreciate joe with glasses

[soupinaboot]

Fuck it. Every Steve Harrington headcannon I have because I've been rotating that boy in my head like a pig on a stick

- Has had glasses since he was young but mostly wore contacts throughout high school due to being bullied in middle school for looking like a nerd

- Plays the piano or the violin, your pick

- In addition to the piano, he mostly plays jazz cause thats my favorite genre and I think it would be his too

- Has ALWAYS had horrible migraines but have since been a lot more difficult to deal with due to you know all that other shit that's been going on

- Does not know popular culture, I know it's very popular within the fandom that he only listences to what's on the radio or watchs only the recent released movies but that boy could barely name a single movie he does NOT know popular shit (this also goes with my jazz headcannon that he mostly just listenes to jazz in the car or at home)

- Surprisingly amazing at chess, no one in the party has managed to beat him

- Horror fan(books,shows,movies,etc)

- His best subject in school was math and I will die on this hill

- Between him and Eddie, he is the black cat

- Bisexual obviously, but a really do like the headcanon that he kinda knew he liked boys when he was younger and doesn't need Robin or Eddie to tell him(he was the one telling Robin that Vickie could like both just saying)

- Also asexual maybe

- Can cook

- SMOKER!!! He smokes in the first season, and in the third he makes a reference to smoking marijuana, he is NOT new to this

- Has really bad bedhead

- I can see him as having some form of OCD or ADHD

I'm forgetting most so be prepared for a part 2

Part 2

[ironspidersblog]

Tony stark wears glasses he’s just embarrassed of it so he puts his prescription in fancy sunglasses period end of sentence

[morganbritton132]

Eddie posts a Tiktok of old home video. In the video, Steve is standing in the kitchen at the trailer with the phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he made coffee for two.

Someone must’ve answered because Steve perks up and says, “Hi, yes. I’d like to request a song. It’s - yes, the new Corroded Coffin song called….well, how was I supposed to know you have caller ID, Christine? Can you play the song or not?”

Steve hangs up the phone and immediately picks up his walkie-talkie like, “Earth to Dustin, use *67 when you call. They’re memorizing phone numbers. Over.”

Eddie behind the camera says with so much amusement, “You do this often?”

Steve smiles at him, finally bringing the coffees over to Eddie, “Every day. Gotta get your song out there so more people can hear it.”

[stuckyfingers]

"You may now kiss the groom"

"At long last, I take you to be my husband, to have and to hold as I have always done, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till the end of the line."

Bucky Barnes can't hold back his tears when he leans in to kiss Steve Rogers after stomping the glass. They are pictured laughing into their first kiss as a married couple, under a chuppah and pink flowers.

[evebestt]

Love the parents and their glasses

[abigailspinach]

Do Do Doot Do Do Do Steve!

[trashpocket]

steddie sketches 💖 (mostly fluff) but here! i offer increments of what if steve and eddie were dancers from two different styles??? or what if steve was a professional basketball player and eddie, the rockstar, was his boyfriend??

[stonathandreamer]

Glasses

🔸 Masterlist

In which Jonathan finds out Steve wears glasses.

(Steve Harrington wears glasses and that is not up for debate!)

--------------------------👓👓--------------------------

Jonathan pulls up in front of the Harrington residence, spotting two cars parked in the driveway. He takes a deep breath. Having to deal with Steve's parents can be exhausting at times.

Mrs. Harrington is a nice lady but can also be slightly snobbish at times, while Mr. Harrington has the personality of a rock worn by the tides; he's just there, not caring about anything - wife and son included. Jonathan tried talking to him once; his only response was 'hum'. According to Steve, his dad only talks to him when he wants to chastise his life choices, poor grades, or lack of a real, decent job.

Jonathan shook his head slightly, got out of his car, and walked to the front door, gently knocking on it. Jonathan swung his arms back and forth as he waited, feeling the chilly night breeze at the back of his neck. It was a rather cold night with light rain forecasted. He had an umbrella in the backseat of the car in case of emergencies.

A commotion was heard from the inside - the unmistakable voices of Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, probably asking each other to answer the door. It swung open a few seconds later, revealing Mrs. Harrington in a beautiful (and obviously expensive) black dress.

"Oh, Jonathan, it's you! Come in, honey." She gestured for him to come inside while adjusting her pearl necklace. "Steven mentioned you two would hang out tonight. He's in his room getting ready. You know the way!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Harrington. You look beautiful, by the way."

Mrs. Harrington smiled as she fixed her hair - she was definitely the one who passed Steve the good hair genes.

"Who was it?" Mr. Harrington's monotonous voice came from the living room.

"Just Jonathan!"

"Who?"

"Jonathan!" She yelled far too loudly. "Steve's friend! The one who's always with him!"

Friend, he mentally scoffed while climbing up the stairs to Steve's room - it was funny just how oblivious these two are, almost like they live in a different universe. According to Dustin, anyone who looked at Steve and Jonathan for more than 10 seconds knew they were dating.

Steve's door was closed, and Jonathan could hear him humming a song, probably from ABBA. He knocked on the door and opened it after hearing a faint "come in."

"Hey, Steve."

The boy in question, who was standing in front of his closet, looking for a jacket that matched the shirt he was wearing, swiftly turned his head around, like he was trying to hide something.

"Jon, hey! H-how are you?"

His hands were behind his back, definitely hiding something.

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to laugh if it's your Farrah Fawcett hairspray."

"I-it isn't..." He lowered his eyes and sighed. "It's my glasses."

He removed his hands from behind his back, revealing a pair of round, thin-framed glasses.

Steve was always embarrassed about wearing his glasses in public, remembering how Tommy H. always made fun of his fellow classmates who wore glasses, calling them 'four eyes' or other stupid names. So he always wears them when he's at home.

Jonathan looked at Steve's glasses for a few seconds and then looked back at him.

"That makes sense," was all he said, taking Steve aback. He thought his boyfriend was going to tease him or something. Like, why wouldn't he? Everyone made fun of people who wore glasses.

"Huh?"

"You're always squinting your eyes. I thought it was just a bad habit," he replied, shrugging, eyes turning to look at the glasses in Steve's hand. "Can... Can you put them on? Just for a second."

He nodded and put the glasses back on. As soon as he put them on, a fond smile appeared on Jonathan's face. That was new. Steve knew the glasses made his vision less blurry, but he didn't know that they also made smiles appear on his boyfriend's face.

"What?"

He asked, tilting his head to the right, curious as to why Jonathan was smiling - given that Jonathan Byers was not the type of guy who smiled all the time.

"Nothing. It's just... You look cute with glasses."

His cheeks immediately flushed red.

"R-really? You don't think I look stupid? Or like a nerd? Or..."

"No, I think you look perfect."

Jonathan still had that stupid smile on his face. God, that stupid and cute smile that Steve loved.

Without a second thought, Steve stepped forward and kissed him, taking Jonathan slightly by surprise. They never kissed when Steve's parents were nearby - or within a 2km radius, just in case.

"Steve... Y-your parents!"

"Relax, my dad never comes into my room, and you know my mom, you can hear her from miles away." He gave him a quick peck on the lips before turning his attention back to the closet. "Which jacket do you think is better, the gray or the black one?"

***

Steve went down the stairs (wearing his gray jacket), Jonathan right behind.

"Bye, mom, bye, dad, we're going out!"

"Bye-bye, sweetie... Oh, you're wearing your glasses!"

"Yeah, Jonathan said I should wear them more."

"Really?"

"I just told Steve he shouldn't strain his eyes, unless he wants to wear bigger glasses in the future."

"I've been telling him that for years!"

"Jonathan can be really persuasive, mom." He rubbed the back of his neck, not wanting this conversation to continue any longer. "Anyway, we're leaving. C'mon, Jonathan!"

He grabbed his (boy)friend's arm and quickly left the house.

Jonathan drove on the last date, so today it's Steve's turn. He opened the passenger seat's door for Jonathan, giving him a quick bow.

"Monsieur."

What a gentleman. Jonathan rolled his eyes while trying to contain a smile.

"So... Where are we going?"

He asked when Steve got in the car.

"There's this new restaurant that opened recently. I think you're gonna love it!" He started the car. "And if you don't like it... It was all Robin's idea."

"You ask Robin for date ideas?"

"No, she just gives them without me having to ask."

The date went perfectly. Jonathan loved the place Robin suggested, and after dinner, they drove aimlessly through town (something they both find relaxing), listening to music and holding hands - and occasionally kissing whenever they stopped at a red light and no one was there to see them.

***

The next day, Jonathan drove Will and Mike to Starcourt Mall - they wanted to buy some comic books and 'it was too hot to ride their bikes', a shitty way of saying 'we're too lazy to bike there'.

Well, since he was already there, Jonathan might as well stop by Scoops Ahoy and pay Steve a visit - and no, he did not think about it when Will and Mike asked for a ride to the mall.

The ice cream parlor wasn't as busy as he thought, given that today was quite warm. Steve was leaning over the counter, head down, reading a magazine.

"Hey, Steve." His head shot up as soon as he heard his boyfriend's voice. Aside from the wide smile, there was something else that caught Jonathan's attention. "You're wearing your glasses?"

"Yep!" He pushed his glasses gently with the index finger of his right hand. "Figured I should wear them more. Don't want my eyesight to worsen for not wearing them, y'know."

"Liar!" Robin yelled from the back room. "He's only wearing them because you said he looks cute with them."

Steve turned beet red while Jonathan just smiled and shook his head.

"Well..." Jonathan leaned closer. "You look cuter when you wear them with your uniform."

He got even redder - a little more and Steve will explode.

Robin rolled her eyes and made a mark on a board with "Steve x Jonathan" written on it.

Steve: 3 x Jonathan: 7.

----------------------------------------------------------

[agentbootyreportingforduty]

saw this kpop video on the tl after just waking up and i fully thought this was steve and danny for a second

[blaqcats-fics]

(He's) Just a Phase — Part 2

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.3K

March 1989

'I can't do this anymore!'

Steve flinched at the loudness in Eddie's voice. He looked at him, taking in the frown lines on his face and how his eyes nearly glowed in anger.

He had expected this. He had been waiting for the ball to drop eventually. There had been signs over the past month that he had picked up. It was small things that Steve was sure Eddie didn't notice he was doing.

First, it was just something small. It could have always been superficial to Eddie, but to Steve, it had always been something bigger, something more. It was a habit that Eddie had always had, and Steve wasn't sure Eddie knew he had done it.

Steve worked nights most of the time, meaning his schedule was the opposite of Eddie's. It had been hard, but they had made it work. They made sure they received the same days off so that they could spend time with each other. On the long days, Eddie would leave the hall light on when he went to bed before Steve got home.

It again wasn't much, but it was something.

When Steve came home, and the light wasn't on, Steve felt his chest tighten. Something was wrong. He did something wrong. Of course, against his better judgment and not openly communicating with Eddie, Steve kept his mouth closed and moved on.

The next tell was more significant. It gave an indication that Eddie knew what he was doing. It wasn't as superficial because they made sure of it together.

Eddie scheduled his band practice on their day off -- the day they used for date night. But, in true Steve fashion, he kept his mouth shut. So it didn't matter if Steve laid in bed all day, crying to Robin, trying to figure out what he did.

The other things fell into place after that, like ducks in a row, until he ended up facing Eddie's frustration.

'I'm sorry,' Steve mumbled.

Eddie gritted his teeth. 'And what are you sorry for, Steve? Please enlighten me!'

Steve wasn't sure. 'I, uh,' he licked his lips, gaze flickering to anywhere but Eddie's face.

'You don't know!' Eddie snapped.

Steve pursed his lips shut. 'No,' he said.

'That's the problem. You're so absorbed in your own head to not even notice what you're doing!' Eddie laughed. It was a bitter sound, and Steve felt a spear stab through his heart.

'I'm not,' Steve argued weakly. 'I thought we were fine.'

'You thought wrong,' Eddie exclaimed. 'I'm miserable, Steve. I'm tired. I'm tired of waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and realize that world isn't going to eat you alive.'

'What is this about?' Steve asked, his voice rising. He needed clarification. He needed things spelled out for him. He was terrible at reading between the lines, even if he knew he should be better at it.

'It's about you not wanting to be seen with me,' Eddie snapped. 'Or you don't want anyone to know about us. You either tell people were friends or that were fucking roommates. Dustin doesn't even know we're together!'

Steve flinched. 'That's not true,' he said. 'You know I love you-'

'You don't show it very well,' Eddie cut him off.

'Don't give me that!' Steve said, frowning. 'I didn't have my whole life to figure out I was bisexual! I'm sorry that I'm not ready to come out!'

'What do you have to lose, Steve?' Eddie hissed. 'You don't have anyone who would look at you differently! Your parents couldn't give a fuck about you, and everyone else would love you no matter what! What's so fucking scary, Steve? Why is it so hard to let people close to us know?'

Steve swallowed, tears stinging his eyes. Hurt flooded his system. It was a low blow on Eddie's part, mentioning his parents. It wasn't like Eddie was wrong. His parents didn't care about him. They especially didn't care about Steve after discovering all the 'scandalous' things that Steve was involved with. 'I just, um. I'm not ready, Eddie. I don't know what else you want me to say.'

Eddie laughed, 'Fuck, I don't know. That you'll try? That you'll tell at least Dustin! It's like you are ashamed to be with me!'

He was silent.

Eddie wasn't far from the truth.

Steve was ashamed but never of Eddie. There wasn't a fiber in Steve's bones that could ever be ashamed of Eddie. Steve was only ashamed of himself. He didn't know why he was, but every time Steve looked in the mirror, he felt disgusted with himself. He felt as if God would strike him down at any given moment for just enjoying kissing a man.

Nothing had to do with Eddie. Everything just had to do with Steve.

'Not everything has to deal with you, Eddie,' Steve said, voice tense. 'Nothing I've done about hiding my sexuality has to deal with you. I'm not ready. I don't know when I'll ever be ready!'

Eddie stared at Steve, expression unchanging. 'I'm not going to wait anymore.'

Steve felt his stomach drop. 'What does that mean?'

'It means what it means. I'm not going to sit here unhappy. I can't keep waiting for you to be ready,' Eddie said.

'Are you breaking up with me?' Steve asked, his voice shaking.

'I guess I am,' Eddie said.

'But,' Steve began, stumbling over the singular word.

Eddie shook his head. 'It's done. We're done.'

Steve bit his lip and nodded. He looked down at his lap, unmoving. What would he do, promise to try to get him to stay? He wanted to beg him to stay, but Steve knew he shouldn't. Not when any promises he made wouldn't be kept.

'Fucking hell, you have nothing to say, do you?' Eddie shook his head. 'I'm leaving. I'll be back this weekend to get my shit.'

Steve could only watch him walk out of the door.

He didn't move from the spot and wasn't sure how long he had sat there, staring blankly at the don't, trying to understand what had happened.

This wasn't like Nancy.

It was worse.

Because before, Steve had felt something — rage, disappointment, sadness. Right now, at this moment, felt hollow, as if a part of him had been removed.

It was when Eddie was actually gone that Steve called Robin. She moved to Dallas after graduation, and Steve only saw her two weeks out of the year. But, she had stayed Steve’s rock, and Steve in return her’s.

The dial tone echoed in his ear as he leaned against the doorway, staring into his bedroom. Besides the trillion tiny holes left over by the thumbtacks holding Eddie’s countless posters, the walls were empty. The bed had only two pillows, both plaid and ugly, a reminder that Eddie had been the one to hoard an enormous amount of pillows — a reminder that Steve’s favorite pillow had belonged to Eddie.

‘Buckley speaking,’ Robin’s voice filled the silence.

Steve’s lips twitched. ‘Hey, Birdie,’ he greeted.

‘Dingus!’ she cheered. ‘I was wondering when you were going to call.’

Steve pursed his lips, 'Yeah, sorry. It's been a rough week.'

‘Eddie picking up shifts again?’ she asked.

‘Uh, um,’ Steve rubbed his lips together, fighting the tears and tightness in his chest. ‘No,’ he managed to gasp out.

Robin was silent momentarily before her soft voice echoed on the receiver. ‘Stevie, what’s wrong?’

Steve found himself unwinding at the seams at the simple question, a loud, ugly sob choking out of him. ‘He’s gone, Robin. He left!’ he cried, the words rushed out and barely audible.

‘What? What do you mean he left?’ Robin exclaimed loudly in the line.

'We broke up,' Steve cried, his chest heaving as he cried harder. 'I fucked up, Robbie. It's all my fault he's gone!'

'Steve, honey, I need you to try and breathe for me. Focus on something and take a few deep breaths for me. I can't understand you writing now,' Robin instructed on the phone.

He did as she said. He focused on the black alarm clock on his bedside table, staring at the red glowing numbers. He took a deep breath, hiccupping as he breathed out. He did that for a few minutes.

'Better?' Robin asked.

'Mhm,' Steve vocalized. 'Sorry.'

'Babe, don't apologize,' she said. 'Now what happened?'

Steve closed his eyes, gripping the phone cord and using the wire to ground him. 'Eddie and I broke up a few days ago, maybe almost a week ago. Well, he broke up with me,' he mumbled, voice shaky.

'I thought you were good; you guys were happy,' Robin said.

Steve laughed, his voice bitter, 'Yeah, me too. Apparently not.'

'Do you know if he told you why?'

'I fucked up,' Steve said simply, thinking over the words that Eddie told him just a week ago. 'I didn't want to tell anyone we're together because I'm not ready. I've been pulling away, I guess. I don't know. He's upset that I don't want the relationship because I don't want people to know.'

Robin was quiet, 'Do, or well, did you want people to know?'

'Of course, I do, Birdie,' he said, choking on her nickname. 'I would scream that I love him from the top of a mountain for the whole world to hear, but I just-'

'You aren't ready yet,' Robin said.

'I'm not ready.'

Robin let out a soft sigh. ‘Do you need me to fly to Indianapolis?’ she asked.

Steve immediately shot her down, 'You have classes and work, Birdie. I can deal with this on my own. There's not like there's much to deal with.'

'We both know how you can get when you get lost in your head,' Robin said. 'And I'm going to be honest, I understand where Eddie's coming from. I know it's hard to hide something important from those who matter, but it's not fair to you, either. You can't rush someone to just come out. He should know that it's a terrifying feeling.'

Steve hummed. ‘I guess so,’ he mumbled. ‘I wish I could go back in time and be ready or click a fast-forward button.’

'We'll you can't,' Robin said. 'Don't overthink too much, Stevie. You two broke up, and you never know; in a month, you might end up back together.'

Steve pursed his lips. This wasn't the first time he and Eddie fought. It was different. They would take a few hours away from each other and then talk about it before the night ended. The worst fight ended with Eddie staying the night at Gareth's, but he came home, and they had sorted it out.

Eddie was gone this time. There wasn't a trace of him left in the apartment.

‘Do you think he would have stayed if I had told Dustin?’ Steve asked.

‘Maybe,’ Robin said. ‘But how long would that satisfy Eddie until he wanted more people to know?’

Steve sighed, moving to rub the wetness from his under his eyes. 'I don't know,' he whispered. 'Maybe this isn't bad,' Steve mumbled.

'What's that mean?'

'Maybe I need to work on myself. I'm not like you or Eddie. I haven't gone out much. I haven't really learned anything,' he said. He picked at the end of the Corroded Coffin shirt that he still has. It was worn and full of holes. Eddie had made it two years ago when they had moved to Indianapolis in celebration of getting a gig at a local bar. 'I haven't been open to learning new things. Maybe I should just focus on myself,' he whispered. 'Maybe I hadn't been ready for a relationship with Eddie, and I just jumped into it.'

'I think figuring yourself out would be a good thing,' Robin said. 'And don't doubt rushing into your relationship. You and Eddie would love each other, even if a chapter of your relationship ended.'

'So poetic,' Steve joked weakly.

'I'm minoring in English. I need to be,' Robin jabbed back. 'But seriously, Steve, don't do anything you're uncomfortable with. It'll be better if you find a new routine and get used to being alone. Then start broadening your horizons.'

Steve hummed, 'That'll be a start.'

'Maybe get a pet!' Robin suggested. 'You like animals.'

'To an extent,' Steve sighed.

'Oh, maybe you could call Owens,' Robin said, voice brightening. 'You still have his card, don't you?'

Steve glanced at the drawer by the fridge, 'Yeah, of course, I do. So why would I need to call Owens?'

'To, well, I don't know, actually do what he suggested you did a few years ago,' Robin said as if Steve knew what she was talking about.

'What the hell are you talking about?' Steve asked. 'You know I have the memory of a goldfish.'

'Ugh,' Robin groaned. 'You're helpless,' she said. 'Owens suggested that you start seeing a therapist for your PTSD, which I'm assuming you never did.'

Steve shook his head, 'No. Eddie did, though.'

'Either way, he also suggested you get a service animal. They help, you know. They can clock you when you're on the edge of having an attack. Or you can get one for your migraines. Do they have service dogs for migraines? You should be able to ask Owens. You still have them frequently, right? What do you think about your eyesight? Are you still having trouble seeing it? Or it's the strain you put on your eyes that causes migraines. You may need glasses, Dingus,' Robin rambled.

Steve rolled his eyes, 'You're rambling again, Birdie.'

'Sorry,' she said automatically. 'So?'

'So, what?'

'Dear Christ,' Robin scoffed. 'Are you going to talk to Owens or not?'

Steve frowned, 'I probably should.'

'So call him. Start fixing yourself because a knight and shining armor can't help you,' she said. 'Eddie couldn't help you. I can't help you. You have to do this on your own,' she added. 'Of course, you can like to talk to be, but you have to hold yourself accountable and all that jazz.'

'Fine,' he sighed. 'I'll call Owens.'

'Good!' Robin said. 'My sweet child,' she faked sniffing over the phone, 'growing up into a responsible young man.'

'Dear lord,' Steve laughed. 'Alright, Mom. I have to go. I have work in an hour and apparently have to call Owens.'

'Steve,' Robin said, voice serious.

'Yeah?'

'I love you,' she said. 'You'll get through this.'

'Love you too,' he said softly. 'Thanks.'

'Anytime, Dingus.'

'Do you think you would have ever come if your previous partner had never broken up?' Doctor Newman asked gaze focused on Steve as her pen was settled against the clipboard, prepared to write at a moment's notice.

Steve eyed the pen warily, feeling uncomfortable. Therapy was part of what Owens offered him to help treat his PTSD. While Steve didn't want to sit and be interrogated, he was doing this for himself (and Robin; he didn't want to disappoint her).

'Probably not,' Steve said, honesty laced in his voice.

He doubted it would have ever been a thought on his mind if he and Eddie were still together. Steve would have internalized everything like he had always done. Knowing that thought, Steve knew he wouldn't have a chance to change from who he was or the shell of who he thought he was.

'Why do you think you wouldn't have?' the woman asked.

Steve moved his gaze to the clock, staring at the second hand, watching as it made its way around, counting down the seconds of the minute. 'I wouldn't have realized that there was a problem. I probably would have just done what I did before, internalize everything.'

'I see. Did you need to internalize your feelings because you might have thought they made you less of a person?'

He tensed and shifted uncomfortably. 'Maybe. I don't know. I don't think my feelings are all that important. Like, I, uh, I don't know, I just think there's no need to make a big deal of them.'

Doctor Newman glanced down at her clipboard, writing something down. 'Hm.' She looked up at Steve, tapping her pen gently against the board. 'Well, you're feelings are important, and it's always okay to prioritize your feelings, even if you think that makes you selfish. Being selfish is alright, especially when your mental health will thank you. Sometimes we all need a break, and sometimes we all need to just sit somewhere and feel.'

Steve nodded, taking in her words. 'I get that, I do, but I grew up in a house where feelings were something you put on the back burner. Then with the event from '83 to '86, feelings seemed irrelevant when people around me were hurting worse, who deserved and needed the attention or care.'

'So, despite the trauma that had fallen on you, you believed it to be small compared to those around you?'

'I mean, yeah?' Steve said, confused. 'The kids were going through so much. They needed someone to lean on, to be cool and collected. They needed someone safe. That was me. It had to be me. The adults and the others were all trying to sort through their own issues, and mine seemed so small in comparison.'

'But they weren't,' Doctor Newman said. 'All your problems? They are just as important as everyone else's. You can't compare your trauma to someone else's because everyone experiences trauma differently.' She picked a vanilla folder off the table, opened it, and flipped through a few pages. 'Doctor Owens sent me your file,' she said. 'And I have to say that you have gone through a good bit of trauma, specifically with Starcourt.'

Steve licked his lips, mentally wincing at the thought of Starcourt. 'I guess.'

'While the Upside Down -- that's what you called it, correct?' Doctor Newman asked.

He nodded, 'The kids called it that. Something about a rat on a rope or something.'

She nodded, 'Alright. So while the Upside Down and the Russians greatly affected you, I think your trauma might have started earlier. Would you be comfortable telling me about your relationship with your parents?'

Steve glanced at the clock, frowning that not more than ten minutes had passed. He coughed, adjusting in his seat. 'There's not much to say,' he said. 'They weren't around a lot.'

'That's a big vague,' she wrote on her clipboard again. 'What were they like when you were a child, before they started becoming less of a fixture in your life? What were they like when they were home? What about now? What's your relationship like now?'

Steve lifted his hand to his mouth, nibbling on the nail of his thumb. His parents weren't something he wanted to talk about.

'This is a safe space,' Doctor Newman said. 'If you aren't ready to talk about your parents, we don't have to. Not until you're ready.'

'And if I'm not ready?'

'Then you aren't,' she said. 'We have all the time in the world, but I think some of your complications stem from your parents, and I can't help you without you opening up about your childhood. So, we'll return here each week until you're ready to face it.'

‘You make it sound easy,’ he laughed.

‘It’s not,’ Doctor Newman corrected. ‘Sharing something personal, especially when it's difficult to talk about, is far from easy. We don't know each other well, and I assume that even if you were more familiar with me, you still wouldn't find it easy to share your experience with me, and that is okay.’

Steve swallowed thickly. He didn't say anything for a moment, struggling to find the words. He licked his lips, glancing back up at the clock, then to his hands, then to Doctor Newman.

‘Uh, my parents,’ he started, before pausing, face pinching together.

‘Take your time,’ Doctor Newman said.

Steve took a deep breath, slouching deep into the chair. ‘Well, I think it started back in ‘76, after I turned 10,’ he began.

NOTE: Thank you guys for reading! I wasn't planning on doing a flash-back chapter, but I might throw them in between present chapters just to give context to what led up to Steve doing what he's doing. Also, if you've noticed, the break-up isn't a super bad one (in the context of why they could have broken up.) I wasn't going to have cheating or anything, but rather something that could be fixed, because I want a happy ending for my boys. Of course, it's worse in Steve's eyes because he just blames himself for stuff. IDK, I thought of doing something worse, but I felt that might be too much.

Also, if you aren't fond of reading fics on Tumblr and prefer the Ao3 formatting, the link to the fic is HERE. Tumblr sees all updates first, and there's a 1-4 hour delay of transfer posting to Ao3. I go through and edit everything. Tumblr is like the RAW/Uncut version, so to speak.

Remember that if you want to be added to the tag list to leave a comment below or send me a DM!

TAGLIST: @swimmingbirdrunningrock x @cinnamon-mushroomabomination x @phirex22 x @kylobith x @screaming-alone x @poopypantsbennett x @ledleaf x @rhyswritesreadsandcries

[re-bec-ca-ann]

Seeing You

(Through New Eyes) - Read on AO3.

Incredible art by @sachart​. 

Eddie only catches a glimpse because instead of being inside surrounded by the likes of Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, and the rest of the Hellfire Club, he’s outside having a cigarette when Steve arrives for pick-up duty. The former jock parks his well-known burgundy BMW against the curb adjacent to the Wheeler’s driveway and turns off the ignition. Eddie watches from under his lashes and takes another drag, hoping the nicotine will calm the flame inside his belly that seems to grow whenever he and Steve come into one another’s orbit. A piece of Eddie is screaming at him to either take his smoke break to the side of the two-story house near the hedges or deem it a lost cause and retreat to the basement before he gets spotted staring and potentially labeled a creep. Sure, they’ve been through hell and back together, Steve quite literally carrying him back to the land of the living all those months ago, and Dustin is a solid judge of character, but who can really blame Eddie for having the urge to hide certain things from the once king of Hawkins High? He’s still a freak and Steve’s still from a royal bloodline.

The Metalhead lingers long enough for his curiosity to win out though when he gets a closer look at Steve’s face as he sits in the driver’s seat for longer than necessary and notices something unfamiliar adorning the other man’s face: glasses.

The frames are dark brown or maybe even black and somewhat square. Steve’s chestnut hair hides the parts that curl around his ears. When Steve turns, rummaging around in the compartments on the side of the driver’s side door with a frustrated scowl, Eddie takes note of how the frames all but disappear when they reach the apples of the man’s cheeks and the sides of his nose. His already prominent nose looks even sharper and more defined, drawing attention to the strong bridge and angular slope. And his eyes, even with the distance limiting Eddie’s visual appraisal, appear both bigger and deeper set. Unfortunately for Eddie, the flame burning in his gut seems to be fueled by the sight. His insides churn with regret, suspecting,  knowing, his affections are futile and so he shakes himself from his stupor, stubs out the forgotten cigarette, and makes a calculated dash for the door.  

When Steve enters the Wheeler’s basement about two minutes later, alerting Dustin that it’s time to pack up his nerd shit and go, his face is bare.

Eddie wonders sourly if he wears them only to drive, but all but debunks that theory when he spots Steve squinting at the character sheet Dustin is shoving in his face as he vents his frustrations about how Eddie is simultaneously pure evil and mad genius with his riddle-laden campaigns.

When Steve throws a look at him, Eddie knows he should grin wide or let out a devilish cackle, but his expression remains focused as he studies the jock’s face and tries not to think too hard about how much he appreciates the other man's jaw, eyes, and nose both with and without the glasses.

-------

It’s Friday night and Eddie’s plans are bordering on lame, still, he does have some. Wayne is working the overnight shift which means he’ll have the government-refurbished trailer to himself. He doesn’t like being alone per se, but he does bask in the glory of having the small space all to himself. So tonight it’ll include one or two freshly rolled blunts, some dollar snacks, Labyrinth on VHS, and a six-pack of beer that’s cheap but decent—a favorite combination of the Munsons. The last two things, the movie and the beer, unfortunately, hang in balance, depending on who’s manning Family Video and the corner gas station. He hopes for friends or at least friendly acquaintances to be found at each establishment.  

As the metalhead pulls into Family Video, van lurching to a halt when he slams on the breaks and puts the vehicle into park, he spots that burgundy Beemer he’s grown to associate with good things rather than annoyance and rage.

At this point, he considers Steve to be a friend, but he isn’t above buttering him up with an offer or two of taking over chauffeuring duties for a week. He won’t show his hand right away though. Maybe Steve will be in a giving mood. Maybe he’s got a date on the horizon and won’t give a shit about Eddie’s late fees, more focused on making it through the day and clocking out. And doesn’t that possibility just twist at Eddie’s insides a tad too much to be acceptable.

The door of the van creaks open, noise interrupting what appears to be a rather dull evening in Hawkins. And sure, it makes sense—more than half of the town left after the “earthquake”—but it still causes the metalhead to flinch at the possibility of drawing attention to himself. He’d been cleared of the murders, some guy named Owens had pulled a few strings on behalf of Jim Hopper, but an accusation like murder didn’t leave even the innocent unscathed, especially not an outcast.

When he reaches the glass door to the store, Eddie peers inside and finds Steve behind the counter entering data into the computer. He’s in his usual uniform, vest and all, but the suave-haired, broad-shouldered man is wearing the glasses again. Eddie feels like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to. The retired king resembles more of a nerd with spectacles on—or at least that’s what his former friends, fans, and followers would categorize him as in this state. Eddie, however, is enamored more than usual. He’s surprised that a string of drool hasn't made its way out of his mouth yet, insides boiling with attraction and frustration.

The retired jock has yet to notice Eddie, leaving him to gaze freely for a bit longer at the endearing display of Steve Harrington appearing more human and flawed than god-like. But Eddie has enough sense to realize that he’s got about twenty more seconds before this crosses the line into weird and invasive territory. Reluctantly, he shoves the door in with his shoulder, and the bell above clangs violently against the frame.

Eddie’s just about to greet Steve when the other man’s eyes flash up in a panic at the presence of another soul, another set of eyes. He hears him mutter out a “shit” before he spins on his heels, rips the glasses from his face, and shoves them somewhere behind the counter. Eddie hopes he didn’t scratch or crack them in his haste—for self-indulgent and considerate reasons. Steve obviously needs them more than he’s willing to let on.

“Uh, hey, Munson.”

Eddie waves, trying to play it cool. He wants to tell Steve to put the glasses back on, reassure him that they don’t look bad and that there’s nothing wrong with needing a little help to function. But he notes the scarlet blush that’s gaining traction on the man’s face and pities him.

Don’t push, Munson. Don’t push.

“Just you here?” he asks plainly.

Steve nods and swallows, face morphing into a somewhat relieved expression.

“So you won’t mind turning a blind eye to some temporarily missing late rentals for a friend?”

Steve scoffs but it comes out more merry. “Friend, huh?”

Eddie tries but fails to keep his face from falling at the implication that Steve doesn’t consider them friends. His heart aches and his brain threatens to spiral even at the chance he’s still just a blip on Harrington’s radar.

Steve must catch on because he shakes his head and elaborates with an eager tone, “I mean, we are friends. How can we not be after everything? But, uh…”

Eddie’s head and heart need to know how that sentence is intended to end, so he presses forward. “But what?”

Steve cocks his head and sighs, shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, and shrugs. “Friends hang out, don’t they?”

Although he’s internally wondering if this is all a joke, Eddie’s responding grin is feral and thrilled. “Shit, Steve. If you wanted to spend quality time with me, all you had to do was ask.”

He expects the jock to scoff and tell him to fuck off, but he does the opposite, leaving Eddie once again surprised by the man who’s worming his way into the metalhead’s heart at an alarming rate.

“Consider this me asking then.”

Jesus H Christ. He’s for real. Steve wants to spend time with me. This isn’t Gareth or Jeff or Dustin. It’s Steve Harrington requesting my time and attention.

Eddie wants to throw up and scream in victory at the absurdity of it all.

“All right,” he comments, schooling his voice into nonchalance as his hands twitch at his sides. “Tonight then. You, me, and Bowie.”

“Bowie?”

“Oh, right!” Eddie exclaims, dashing toward the new rentals and snatching Labyrinth from the shelf. He returns to his spot in front of Steve and shakes the case for him to see. “Bowie!”

Steve hums. Eddie can’t tell if it’s a good or a bad hum—or maybe a confused hum as he realizes that the jock is scrunching his eyes at the cover. He quells the urge to bring up the glasses and decides to tease Steve for his taste instead, not wanting to chance ruining their hang out before it’s even happened. 

“Wait, don’t—don’t tell me you don’t like Bowie?” he cries like a wounded animal, clutching the tape to his chest.

“I didn’t say that!” Steve retorts.

And while that’s true, Eddie is having far too much fun being the catalyst for Steve’s blossoming flustered state.

“Don’t say another word, Harrington,” Eddie counters. “I really don’t want to have to renege on our plans.”

“Well, sorry if I’m just too cool to—”

“Nope. Not listening. Zip it, Steve,” he sing-songs heading toward the exit. “I’ll grab drinks and snacks. Although I’m sure my selections won’t be ‘cool enough’ for you. But former kings can’t be picky, now can they?”

“Wait, Eddie! The movie, you can’t just take it before I scan—”

Eddie wiggles his fingers in Steve’s direction and darts toward his van. Before he hops in and slams the door shut, he yells out, “Bye, Stevie! See you at 8.”

As Eddie heads down the road toward Lou’s corner store and gas station, his gut churns in excitement and disbelief. He thinks about the two of them sitting on the worn couch, maybe side by side, watching Bowie in all his glory on the TV. The TV. The small and already hard-to-see TV. Shit.

-------

Eddie is all but pacing the short space of the trailer’s living room as he waits for Steve’s arrival. Steve Harrington is coming to his house because he wants to spend time with Eddie and like an already lovesick fool, he’s got beer in the fridge and a plethora of snacks on the dented and scratched kitchen counter. At the gas station, he had to talk himself down from having an all-out panic attack because instead of just asking Steve what he liked to eat, he chose to go the playful, put-on careless route which led him to entertaining two stressful guessing games down both the candy and chip aisles. So now he’s got more bags and boxes of sugary, salty, crunchy, and sour treats than his or Steve’s teeth and stomachs can handle. There are Twizzlers, Milk Duds, sour gum drops, plain potato chips, BBQ potato chips, Doritos, nonpareils, Gobstoppers, and those gross waxy rootbeer bottles that are filled with liquid that no one like—but maybe Steve does? Fortunately for Eddie’s pinballing mind, headlights shine through the window and the metalhead strides toward the door to confirm who it is.

Eddie can’t help the smile that forms on his face as Steve extracts himself from the car and brushes out the imaginary wrinkles in his shirt. His grin, however, falls into a frown rather quickly at the sight of the jock pulling the infamous glasses from the bridge of his nose, shoving them into a soft case, and pocketing them in his Members Only jacket. Eddie sighs at the humanizing display of Steve’s obvious discomfort at needing and wearing something not up to the standards of Hawkins’ royalty. It irks Eddie and he isn’t sure if he wants to shake Steve to knock some sense into him or dismantle all of society’s beauty standards with his chaotic energy and rage.

Steve raps his knuckles against the aluminum door before Eddie can decide which option to dedicate his life to.

“Welcome, my liege!” he says as he swings the door open and bows before the other man.

Steve’s responding scoff is littered with a lightheartedness that makes Eddie want to beam with delight.

“What? Isn’t that how all of the mere and mortal peasants greet Steve ‘The King’ Harrington?” Eddie questions with feigned shock.

The laugh the other man releases is amused. “Nah, just the freaks, it seems.” The supposed dig is becoming a tender nickname lately—especially when Steve uses it. No longer a weaponized or venomous word but an endearing term that Eddie has always worn with a hint of pride that has now doubled in size and continues to grow. It feels good to find people who see and accept him for who he truly is. And Eddie yearns to do the same.  

Eddie snags two beers from the fridge and tells Steve to grab whatever snacks tickle his fancy. When he turns back to face the counter, the Milk Duds and wax bottles are missing. He shakes his head, curls bouncing, and snatches the Gobstoppers and nonpareils. And they say I’m the freak?

They’re thirty minutes into the film, Steve’s arm draped across the back of the couch in an attempt to appear casual, while Eddie taps his fingers against the cardboard candy box where only half of the Gobstoppers remain. Eddie is trying to relax, he really is, but the way Steve is straining and rubbing at his temples every minute or so with his free hand is distracting. His instinct is to yell and go on an oddball rant about how glasses are actually metal as all heck and mainstream’s definition of style is a boring, capitalistic agenda, but he veers into the realm of soft deliveries in hopes of not scaring Steve away. “Hey, man,” Eddie starts, tone low and shaky. He waits until Steve acknowledges him to continue. “C-can you, uh, see the screen?”

“W-what do you mean?” Steve stammers and pinches his brow together. “I mean, of course. It’s right there,” he jokes, fingers pointing at the TV set.

Steve…” Eddie tries.

“Eddie,” Steve parrots back.

So much for the soft delivery, he thinks, standing up and leaning over the former jock to grab his discarded jacket and pull the case from the left-side pocket. He holds it up and declares, “I’m talking about these—” But the look on the other man’s face is embarrassed, maybe even petrified.  

Shit, no.

Eddie sits back down and tries again, setting the glasses still in the case between their thighs. “I saw you wearing them when you came to pick up Dustin from Wheeler’s house, and then again at Family Video. I wasn’t spying or anything…”

Steve’s exasperated chuckle is dark and quiet but there. “Liked what you saw? The cool kid isn’t so cool anymore, huh?” Steve flops back against the couch and squeezes his eyes shut. “Go ahead, take your shot, Munson. I deserve it.”

“What? You think I’m going to make fun of you?” It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Man, you really don’t trust people, do you?”

Eddie’s verbal attacks are reserved for bullies and authority figures on power trips. And sure, Steve might have fallen into one of those categories in years past, but he no longer does. The metalhead wouldn’t have opened his space to him otherwise.

Steve’s face is now pinched tighter with pain and a weighted sadness. “Sorry, I just—”

“Force of habit? Conditioned to expect the worst in people?” Offers Eddie. Steve’s nod is tired and a little depressed. “Yeah, me too.”

Steve sits up, stares ahead, and starts to pick at the hem of his shirt. “So if you aren’t going to rag on me, what were you going to say?”

Eddie swallows, throat going dry at the sudden fork in the road before him: play it off or be stupidly honest. And the thing is, Eddie isn’t one to run away from much anymore…

“Well,” he blinks. “I was going to say that it makes sense you might need help seeing after all the hits and kicks to the head from the buffoons we once classified as classmates and the interdimensional creatures hellbent on crushing your skull…” He could end it there. Call it a night. Finish the movie and have a chance at doing it again in the future. Or… “I was also going to say that they look good on you.”

Eddie’s not running, but he is afraid to let his gaze meet Steve’s face. He forces his eyes to drag their way over and up until they land on the other man’s now flushed cheeks and wide eyes. The development gives the metalhead a burst of courage and his thin fingers are reaching for the abandoned case from where he retrieves the neglected glasses. He unfolds them with trembling hands and leans forward, knee pressing into the warmth and sturdiness of Steve’s thigh. He places the glasses on the man’s face, the bridge resting on Steve’s defined nose, ends hooked through thick hair and resting on the curve of his ears. He’s pretty sure both he and Steve are holding their breath.

When he returns to his former position on the well-used couch, perhaps an inch or two closer to the jock’s body, it’s Steve who breaks the charged silence.

“Thank you,” he whispers, voice disbelieving.

Eddie’s heart flutters and a rush of air pushes out of his straining lungs. “You’re welcome.”

He’s trying not to grin like a maniac, but he catches a genuine smile tugging at Steve’s lips and takes it as an encouraging sign. “Now, where were we,” he says, turning his attention back to the screen.

If their hands brush once or twice over the course of the next hour and Steve catches Eddie admiring his glasses and blushes under the attention, well that’s something worth investigating at a later date. But for now, Eddie basks in the weirdness and wonder of being actual friends with one Steve Harrington. Glasses included.

[springlock-suits]

I am posting these for personal reference so I don't have to keep looking through my screenshots lol

First trailer, speaking to Mike on the phone. Wearing a tan dress shirt with stripes. Bold stripes are either blue or black or red or green?, color of lighter stripes cannot be discerned. Shirt appears to have a left brest pocket, but hard to tell. Navy blue tie with white dots in a diamond pattern. White undershirt. Clothes overall loose and casual/comfy

Second trailer, physically speaking to (presumably) Mike, takes place before first trailer appearance. Beige dress shirt with left breast pocket. Simple plaid pattern. Maroon tie with thin black diagonal stripes

Edit:

His phone is a boxy shape, and stands out with a taller/more elevated base than I usually find so far. Due to the width, we can assume the phone he's using is one that came with many speed dial options. Understandable as he works a business here

[morganbritton132]

Eddie posts one day: One time I took Steve to have his wisdom teeth taken out. They put him to sleep, cut out his teeth, whatever it is they do. And when this man woke up drugged out of his mind and he looked at me - the love of his life - and he said, “Nance?”

Mike: Steve thought I was Nancy once

Eddie: Wow, babe, do you just think every pale dark haired nerd is Nancy Wheeler?

Steve: I had a concussion

Eddie: A likely story

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[madaboutmunson]

MadAboutMunson's One Shot Steddie Fics

Fics are below Keep reading :)

Are You Experienced

Summary: Everyone knows Steve Harrington, a local rich kid jock, the previous king of Hawkins High School. He's got it all, money, a respectable family, and chicks love him. He's even spending the summer learning what it's like to be a real working man before taking on a role in his Dad's firm because its builds character and empathy. Or is he something else entirely? Is Steve a down-on-his-luck guy, stuck in a job he dislikes because his dad is teaching him a lesson, repeatedly striking out with the ladies, that his co-worker is fond of reminding him about? Under all the many layers and masks, he uses to survive the day-to-day, Steve has secrets. The main one is how passionately he loves music. How it moves him in ways nothing else does, and he's sure no one else could possibly feel the same, until his Mom gives him $50 to spend at the new record store. Tumblr Link Ao3 Link

Never Too Much

Summary: Just a little something that wormed its way into my head, because I just love the whole Steddie having an extra love language of music thing Tumblr Link Ao3 Link

Policy of Truth

Summary: Please read the tags and warnings before reading this one 💚 After saving the world, everyone heads home, but not everyone has a place to go back to. Realising that they potentially could have lost their son Mr & Mrs Harrington, make an effort with Steve and open their those in need. But its not just friendships blossoming at The Harrington's, and soon Eddie and Steve have a secret to keep. Ao3 Link

Eight Frames a Week

Summary: Eddie catches Steve in his glasses one time. Just one time! But that is all it takes for Edward Munson’s brain to spark a new hyper fixation. He must have Steve in glasses, whenever he possibly can, because….well…. 1. He looks cute as a button in his glasses. They are so delicate. Thin golden wire frames and large round lenses accentuate the puppyish nature of his eyes. 2. Steve gets shy about them, which is also so adorable Eddie could spontaneously combust. Tumblr Link Ao3 Link

Keep You From The Cold

Summary: Eddie Munson is finding out that being a Vampire isn't as badass as some of the movies would have him believe. It's difficult enough trying to figure out what bits of lore are correct or complete nonsense, but when he sees his only willing source of nourishment (his boyfriend Steve) is struggling, he decides it's time to look elsewhere for sustenance. Fortunately, Eddie learns there is a very undesirable person in the vicinity, who has very bad intentions towards his very desirable Steve, and he means to put a very final stop to that. Tumblr Link Ao3 Link

Wishin' and Hopin'

Summary: In which Eddie realises he might have some residual power from The Upside-Down and plans to use it in the best way he knows how, to impress the guy he's had a crush on for months Tumblr Link Ao3 Link

Devil Gate Drive

Summary: In which Eddie fixes a spooky campfire story that Steve mis told, sending them on a quest for a wish to be granted. Well, once, they get to Devil Gate Drive that is :) Tumblr Link Ao3 Link

[steddie-as-he-goes]

We are here. Chapter 2 should be done by tomorrow. Who’s excited? I’m excited.

(I lied it’s up now: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54116344/chapters/138843526#workskin)