#winnie and eddie

[vyncentevelyn]

I’ve seen a lot of posts about what Eddie’s mom looks like, who would play her, etc. and none of them really clicked for me.

And maybe that’s because I’m writing about her. Maybe I’m too close to her.

But then it hit me. Rachel Weisz but with brown eyes.

This is Winnie Munson.

Look at them.

I mean. They are mother and son.

I just.

Look at them.

And then like here’s one with Wayne because why not.

Siblings. Sister and brother. Brother and sister. The Munsons.

[fuctacles]

Eddie picks up a vaginal health pamphlet and really fixates on the part that tells him to "air it out as often as posibble". He's all for that, he's dedicated, he's giddy knowing there's a valid excuse to walk around half naked. He warns EVERYONE to give him a heads up before entering his room.

Steve hates it. Because all he can think about is that on the other end of Hawkins Eddie might be winnie-poohing it around his bedroom while reading, playing the guitar, writing. He tries to be a good friend about it, he knows Eddie is trans and it doesn't matter, he wants to be supportive whenever he gets excited about his body. Even if just thinking about it drives him mad. He's determined to be normal about it, he's a king of friendzone after all, but the newest development in Eddie's antics makes it even harder.

Because one day, instead of putting on a pair of pants to meet his guest, Eddie opens his door wearing a skirt. Steve eyes the new outfit with surprise, but schools his face to fall back into his supportive friend mode.

"Nice skirt," he says with a smile.

Eddie grins at him, swaying his hips to show off the new garment.

"Thanks. It's way easier to go commando."

Steve's dead. The words are like an arrow through his brain. Gray matter is leaking through his ears and he can barely focus on what Eddie is saying at any time because the guy does not follow the skirt etiquette. His legs are spread as always when he sits, and he only barely catches himself before throwing one leg over the other. Steve begs him to put on a movie he can focus on instead.

He realizes then that he has to talk to Robin about it. He needs a proper pep talk before he tells Eddie he has a massive Thing for him and would really appreciate if he wore underwear when they're hanging out.

[check out my SBB fic while you're here]

[paintedpatroclus]

eddie and winnie circa 1990

(steddie kid steddie kid steddie kid!)

[missjashin]

Okay we all know that Eddie was (is) a Garfield kid, based on the multiple Garfield mugs that we’ve seen hanging in the trailer.

But I am absolutely making Steve a Winnie the Pooh kid. Because just look at Christopher Robin and tell me that the little lonely polo shirt wearing boy is not the core of Steve Harrington.

Just look!

That is little Steve Harrington no question about it.

[jadewritesficshere]

Sitting Pretty

This is just pure filth like barely a plot ok 😫🥴

Eddie Munson x Female!reader

18+ONLY

Warnings: pet names (baby, pretty girl), slight degradation and condescending language (use of slut) (this really isn't degradation in my mind but that's cause I'm used to a lot worse so technically it is but), boot riding, squirting

Eddie dropped the box on the coffee table with a loud thud. It landed next to the other boxes he had carried, and the one you had. After a long day of work, he was tired. He wanted to sit down, relax, and do absolutely nothing. Of course, when you called and said you needed help moving boxes, he came. He knew he was entirely fucked. Wrapped around your fingers. You could tell him to jump and he'd ask how high.

Eddie pushed a strand of hair out of his face, it briefly getting caught on his fingers, making him shake his hand to get it unstuck. He glared at the partially grey hair still wound around his fingers (you said it made him look distinguished and metal. He couldn't complain too much at that). You set your own box on the table and smiled at him,"Thanks Eds, I know you're tired. It means a lot to me you would do this." Eddie hummed,"mhm. What is this stuff anyways?" "Oh, my uncle and aunt were getting rid of a bunch of stuff, so they gave it to my parents, who got rid of more stuff, aaaannnd dumped it on me," you shrugged," I'll go through it and see if there is anything good, then send it to the secondhand store."

Together, you and Eddie started going through the boxes. Eddie pretended to be wounded finding a dungeon master's guide, you found a harmonica and attempted to play a Corroded Coffin song (which had Eddie wheeze laughing and joking about adding a harmonica solo to their next single), he had tried on a pink jacket at your insistence while you had put on a hat that didn't fit (both of you traded items and agreed they looked better on each other then yourselves before promptly tossing the items back in the box), and then you struck gold.

You pulled out a pair of light brown leather cowboy boots. The intricate stitching on the side had caught your eye at the bottom of the box. The tips of the shoes slightly pointed and squared off. You blink at them and hand them to Eddie. Eddie looks at them before scoffing," Nope, those will squish my feet. You see the ends of them?" You roll your eyes," Eddie, if they hurt people's feet why would cowboys wear them? They work on their feet all day!" Eddie was tempted to tease you and say cowboys aren't real, but then you pout at him. The pout making your lips stand out caused him to hesitate. "Please?" He sighed and couldn't help but give you a quick kiss before grumbling and sitting to put the boots on. He could hear your faint cheers as he sat on the recliner.

Your focus was on the box in front of you until you heard Eddie clear his throat and ask,"Well, what do ya think?" You turned and-

Damn.

Eddie stood there with his hands on his hips. Your eyes trailed over him. His curly hair was frizzy from the humidity and a long day of working and sweating at the auto shop. His skin pale, save for a smear of oil on his cheekbone. His tank top showed off his arms beautifully, muscles straining, his bicep wrapped from a new tattoo he had gotten. The tank top tight against his skin, showing you his waist. You could see the bump at his belly button where his piercing was. His jeans were slightly loose, the only light wash pair he owned that he threw on when he hadn't done the laundry. Those stupid cowboy boots sat on his feet, the slight heel giving him extra height. He turned and held his arms out, striking a few poses. They weren't heels, but they made his ass pop (God, now you wanted to see him in heels). The light jeans making his ass look bigger, perfect to hold. Slap even.

"Ya know, they actually are kinda comfortable," Eddie turned back to face you with a smile," they don't- oof!" Eddie lands on the recliner with a grunt from you pushing him. He glares at you," you have to quit doing that! You're gonna strain my back or some shit." "Hm...stop being so fuckable then," you climb on top of his lap and lean close to his ear to whisper," besides, you like it." Eddie clears his throat and grasps your hips. You roll your hips slightly into his, watching him inhale sharply. The scruff of his unshaved jaw beckons you forward, kissing it lightly before trailing down his neck.

You nip and suck at his neck, smirking as he tilts his head to give you better access. His hands that firmly grasp your hips, shift to grab your ass instead. You hum as you pull back, staring at the glistening neck and the lovely purple mark you left. It may be childish to leave a hickey, but you couldn't help but want to mark Eddie up, adding shades of purple and red near his existing tattoos. Eddie's eyes are blown, his pale face flushed a deep red. You shift on top of him, rolling your hips into his again, feeling his hardening length. The feeling of you grinding against him makes him groan. Unbuttoning his jeans, you awkwardly try to unzip them, leaning back into Eddie's hands. He takes that moment to squeeze your ass. You whimper at the feeling and lean forward to kiss him, thoughts of removing his pants forgotten.

His lips are soft, slightly chapped, but still so plush against yours. Your mouths move in tandem, tongues darting out. Eddie licks into your mouth, groaning as he takes control. He sucks on the tip of your tongue before pulling back. Both of you taking deep breaths. "Take these off baby," Eddie mumbles, tugging at the hem of your shorts. You nod and clamber off him.

You push your shorts and panties down, balancing a hand on Eddie's knee as you step out of them. You go to get back on Eddie but he stops you," Now hold on, baby." You let out a whine in annoyance. Eddie chuckles and clicks his tongue at you," You seem all pent up, what's got you like this?" "You, now let me on-" "Nah, I think it's something else. Like my boots, Baby?" You nod emphatically, attempting to straddle Eddie again, but he puts his leg out in front of you. The sole of his boot presses against your stomach, and he pushes you back lightly. "Prove it pretty girl."

You pause and tilt your head slightly before grasping Eddie's boot covered ankle. Eddie nods to his foot and taps your stomach with the sole. You step back and bend at the hips, eyes locked with Eddie's, and kiss the tip of the boot. He chuckles and motions you with a finger to continue. You give the boot another kiss, and another. The leather firm against your mouth. Eddie smirks," You can do better then that." "I'm not licking the boot." You stand up and drop Eddie's foot with a thud. Eddie relaxes back spreading his legs, "Who said anything about licking? What's that saying...save a horse, ride a cowboy?"

You blink at him as your mouth falls open. Eddie taps the boot against the hardwood ground, causing clicks to echo. "Go on pretty girl." You can feel your arousal slowly drip down your thighs at the thought of Eddie's request. It was demeaning, dirty, and damn if it didn't delight you. You slowly kneel at Eddie's feet, lowering yourself until your core hit the leather.

The fabric was stiff and slightly rough against your pussy. Your arousal dripping onto the boot, causing it to slicken and make it easier to move. You look up from where you're situated to look at Eddie. You can't help the moan that escapes at the site of him. The once slightly baggy jeans are now very filled out from his bulge. One hand resting on it, squeezing lightly. The top of his unbuttoned jeans showing off his happy trail. The opal belly button piercing glinting in the light. The tattoo of the dragon above the jewelry moving with every deep breath he takes. A hickey on his pec from last week. The rest of his tattoos scattered about, glistening from sweat. The scruff on his jaw and neck. The grey hairs at his temples. The smirk on his face, even though it is flushed. The demeaning look he gives you.

You grind against the boot, faltering slightly under his gaze. "Look at you, sitting pretty," Eddie coos at you, patting your head. He knows you hate that, making you feel small. Stupid. "Such a good slut, making my boots all wet." His words make you clench around nothing, throbbing with want.

You buck your hips quicker against his boot. You shift angles slightly and moan as the boot rubs against your clit. The sensation is too much. The pleasure invades your brain, coherent thoughts gone. You feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. A tingly warmth spreading out from your core. "Fuck I'm-" your breath hitches and your hips fumble losing rhythm. "Come for me baby," Eddie grasps your jaw firmly, tilting your head up to face him," Drench my boots like the good slut you are, pretty girl." You gasp as the pressure builds to a crescendo. Your eyes close and you moan head falling back in pleasure. Lights flash behind your eyes as euphoria spreads throughout your limbs. You distantly feel the wetness gush as your hips buck wantonly. Your brain goes fuzzy with static from euphoria. You briefly hear Eddie moan a fuck.

You come back down to earth, loosening your grip on Eddie's thighs. You hadn't even realized you were gripping them. You scoot away from his boot, still on your knees. The light brown leather is soaked, turning a dark brown. A puddle of your release is on the boot, making you feel warm from embarrassment.

"Fucking hell...you squirted," Eddie shakes his head and chuckles. You stand on shaky legs, Eddie helping hold you in place. You glance down at the puddle slowly dripping off his shoe and onto the floor. "Can I ride you now?" You ask saccharinely.

"You're gonna have to give me a minute," Eddie's eyes dart away from yours, clearing his throat. He shifts and you glance at the movement. His jeans are slightly loose again. The light denim jeans having turned dark at a wet spot. "Made me come like a fucking teenager," Eddie stands grabbing your hand. He tugs on your arm, leading you towards the bedroom.

You were definitely keeping the cowboy boots.

[mr-dead-inside]

[groovyic0ns]

like or reblog if you save

[i-like-eyes]

wh doodles from before the update I forgot to post. And others.

[bucked-it-up]

I hope we get to learn more about Chris’s time in Texas and about him coming to terms with what Eddie did. I think how he is acting currently is completely valid and I can’t imagine the amount of trauma and distrust seeing Eddie with Kim caused him. I also don’t think Helena and Ramon are necessary doing anything bad with Chris, they are giving him a safe space to come to terms with what happened and how to forgive Eddie in his own time. I do wonder if they pushed Chris to do the video call with Eddie and how much they push him to keep communicating with Eddie.

I hope he and Eddie find a way to come back together and heal their relationship. I think Eddie is going to have to show that he truly has found a way to grow and won’t try and push his view of a family on to Chris. I think this is especially important as Chris is allowed to not see his dad’s partner as a parent, the partner can just be Eddie’s partner who help supports Chris but they dont need to be a parent unless Chris wants that.

I really think they can do some interesting things with Eddie this season and i hope they lean into it because i do think in past seasons they have missed opportunities with eddies character and to have him grow.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve and Eddie had fallen into a hole in the ground. They were now depending on Robin to make them a rope to get them out.

Steve: Can you tie a knot?

Robin: I cannot.

Steve: So, you can knot!

Robin: No, I cannot knot.

Steve: Knot knot?

Eddie: Who's there?

Steve: Eddie!

Eddie: Eddie, who?

Steve: 🤦‍♂️

[scoops-aboy86]

Window pt 1

Steve doesn’t realize quite how much he’s put on recently (or how enamored to a certain metalhead he’s become) and gets stuck in a window. 

Inspired by this. Part 2 from Eddie's POV is here.

rated: T | words: 2765 | cw: none | tags: chubby steve, pre-relationship, weight gain, steve’s bisexual awakening in progress

And, uh. Don’t have a couple beers and drive. But, like, it was the 80s, so. 🤷‍♀️ 

Maybe also don’t try to climb through a window when it’s the 80s and most people don’t lock their front doors anyway. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ 

(Would Eddie and Wayne lock the trailer, when it’s just as easy to pry a window open? I mean yeah Eddie has drugs in there but he clearly hides them well enough that even he can’t find them sometimes, so idk.)

Eddie isn’t home, but that’s okay; it’s an impulsive visit, as most of them are, so Steve knows what to do. He goes into it all confident and cocky because he’s pretty sure it’ll be easier than the other times he’s done it because the porch is right there, no drainpipe climbing required or nosey younger sibling to catch him at it with a look of annoyed disgust that will echo down through the years. 

Mike still looks at him like that, no matter how many free rides or free movies he and his friends manage to wring out of Steve, which is, in Steve’s opinion, really dumb of the kid. He doesn’t even like Nancy like that anymore, for fuck’s sake, get over it Mike. (And it’s easier to go off on a tangent in his head about Mike than really examine the comparison between climbing into Nancy’s room and climbing into Eddie’s, so Steve is just rolling with it.)

Anyway, the point is, he’s got this. He pulls the BMW up a respectful distance away so that Eddie and Wayne will still have room to park later in case he’s here that long, and all but bounces out of the driver’s seat into the warm night air. 

Maybe he should have thought about it a little more, because, as it turns out… he does not got this. 

“Do mine eyes deceive me? Is it the King Steve, what through yonder window breaks?”

“Hi Eddie,” Steve says flatly, unsurprised. He’d heard the van rumble up, and the distinctive squeak of the driver's side door. For the last hour or so he’s resigned himself to standing by on the old easy chair on the porch, chin in his hands where his elbows rest on the dresser just inside the window. At least it’s late enough (and Lucas managed to talk Max into summer camp this year) that no one else is likely to see him.

He can hear the grin in Eddie’s reply. “Hiya, Stevie. Mind explaining what I’m coming home to here?”

Steve doesn’t want to dignify that with a response, because fuck, isn’t it obvious? But he also doesn’t want to antagonize his friend and risk being stuck in this window all night—not that he thinks Eddie would leave him here, but Steve doesn’t want to deserve to be left. With a heavy breath out through his nose, he says, “I’m a little stuck here, man. Help me out?”

Almost immediately he feels Eddie step in close, hand on his right hip where it’s caught in the window frame, and maybe just a hint of warm thumb brushing over where the skin is pink and pinched. Steve has to hold himself very still to avoid reacting to that, not completely sure he didn’t imagine it anyway. 

“Out?” Eddie asks, sounding like he’s trying to calculate something in his head. “Or in?”

“Uh… whichever gets me unstuck faster, I guess?”

Eddie chuckles. “In it is, then. You must’ve been pretty determined to get in there and wait for me, you made some good progress here. I’m guessing you got to a point where you couldn’t get the angle right, huh sweetheart?”

“Jesus, Eddie…” Why did he have to put it like that? And why is it giving Steve goosebumps? “Look, I think if you just lift me by the legs a bit I can, like… walk forward on my hands, kinda, and—” He tries to demonstrate, but bumps the neck of the guitar with THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS scrawled across its front and makes a failed attempt at lunging to catch it, wincing when it thumps down against the floor.

“What was that?”

“… What was what?”

“Steve…”

“Okay okay, it was your acoustic, I’m sorry dude, I just… I’m pretty sure it’s fine.”

“She’d better be, Harrington. Lucky for you my sweetheart is still safe in the van, far from your clumsy fumblings, or I might have to call in the cavalry.”

Again Steve twists, trying to look at him, and something else falls off the dresser—he thinks it’s just some sort of magazine. “Liar. I know you wouldn’t call the cops on me, Munson.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” Eddie shoots back. “I’d call Robin.”

Steve grimaces again. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“And Wheeler, too. Jon’s still in town, maybe he could be persuaded to bring his camera to document this posterior for posterity.”

Suddenly Eddie’s hands are on his ass, and Steve is torn between a vivid memory of trying to shove Dustin into a vent at Starcourt and a zing of nerves that should not be linked to his pseudo-little-brother in any way, and it’s all Eddie’s fault—

The first real shove catches Steve and his flatlining brain by surprise, jostling him enough that his elbows slip and he nearly cracks his chin on the cluttered dresser surface. “Hey,” he calls sharply over one shoulder. 

“Sorry sweetheart, did you need a ‘one two three go’?” Eddie pats at his ass with both hands, tapping out a little rhythm, and Steve has to restrain the urge to donkey kick him. 

“This isn’t funny, Munson,” he insists. “And some sort of warning would’ve been nice, yeah.” His tone is sarcastic, but his face is burning red, and once the words are out he has to bite his lip to keep from saying anything else. Not that Steve even knows what, there’s just… something, precarious, on the tip of his brain that might spill out his mouth if he’s not careful, and he doesn’t want to find out what it is like that. 

Eddie snickers. “It’s a little bit funny, but point taken. I’m going to give you another push here. Ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” What a fucking day. All Steve had wanted was to smoke up a little and hang out, like they usually do. And okay, maybe he’s a little grumpy that Eddie wasn’t even home when he got here— “Where were you, anyway?” he asks, grunting and trying to wriggle forward with every shove. Might as well talk, get his mind off the vice grip the window frame has on his hips. “You’re usually—oof—here when I finish a closing shift.”

“Practice ran long,” Eddie grunts back. After the first few rounds of ready steady go he started to get more serious and really put his weight into it. “That, and Gareth’s been having some… shall we say, romantic troubles lately, and needed consolation and advice.”

Steve feels a vague prickle of jealousy, even as he manages to grip the dresser edge hard enough to hold onto a fraction of an inch of progress. “What kinda consolation? Been smoking without me, Munson?”

“No,” comes the amused reply. “Just a couple beers. I do have other friends besides you and the monster hunters club, you know.”

Which really makes Steve’s face flame, because he… doesn’t. Not anymore. Not even a girlfriend; it’s like his heart’s not fully in it anymore and they can smell that on him. He tries to replace his embarrassment (Eddie didn’t mean it like that, Steve knows he didn’t) with determination, wrenching himself forward without regard for the way the window frame’s hard metal edges scrape against his skin. He doesn’t feel the full bite of it in some places, thanks to the knots of scar tissue the Upside Down had left him with on his sides, it’s fine. 

But almost immediately there’s a strong grip on the outsides of his thighs. “Woah there Stevie,” Eddie cautions, and he actually sounds concerned. “Don’t hurt yourself, man. We’ll get you out of here and get you caught up if you want, I have beer here too, alright? Just…”

“Just what?” Steve grumbles. He doesn’t know why he feels so stung, feels like Eddie ditched him—they didn’t even have plans for fuck’s sake. At most, they’ve had a string of casual hangouts roughly every other night at around the same time for a months now, but they’ve never really talked about it, never solidified anything. 

He tells himself that he wouldn’t even care if he hadn’t gotten stuck in the window like an idiot, but if that’s the case then why does this show of concern feel like a cooling balm over his temper?

Eddie sighs, but not like he’s annoyed. More like… he’s choosing his words carefully. “Just, uh… try to suck in a bit?”

Blinking, Steve tries to look over his shoulder. He can’t quite see Eddie, just out of the corner of his eye, but it looks like he’s chewing on his lip. Then he pushes himself up on the dresser and looks down along the front of his body to where he’s stuck, trying to make sense of…

Oh. His face goes hot again. 

The window doesn’t open very far, is the thing, and for the first time Steve fully registers that it’s not just his hips that are caught. Reddened skin peeks out from the bottom of his shirt, and some of that is because it’s ridden up during his struggles, but he also… makes contact with the top of the dresser, which comes up to about an inch or so below the frame. Now that he’s paying attention, he registers part of himself pressing against the metal of the trailer exterior, too.

He used to be pretty trim, but that had been back in high school and while running from monsters and dark wizards in an alternate dimension. 

When did he get a belly?

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, and does as he’s told. 

Eddie doesn’t belabor the point, just gets his hands on Steve’s ass again with a “One, two, three, push.”

And it’s still a hard drag against his front, but it works this time. Steve jolts forward, too caught by surprise and still flustered, catching himself hands-first on Eddie’s messy bedroom floor and gracelessly flopping the rest of the way in. The carpet (or really, the layer of dirty laundry on top of it) doesn’t smell great, but he stays slumped there for a moment, recovering. 

At least he avoided landing on the acoustic guitar, though. 

“You okay there, dude?”

Steve groans. “I’m fine. That fucking window looked bigger from the outside, that’s all.”

Eddie lets out a disbelieving snort, then follows him in, shimmying over the narrow sill with an ease and silence that comes from years of practice. When he’s done, he leans his scrawny ass back against the dresser and spreads his hand in a tada motion. 

And Steve’s not dumb, he knows that he’s put on weight since the Upside Down. Since finally coming down from constant recurring nightmare panic mode. Yeah he didn’t realize it was so obvious, but he can admit (at least in the privacy of his own head) that that’s why he got stuck. 

He opens his mouth to say something along the lines of you don’t have to rub it in, but snaps it shut again when Eddie steps forward and offers him a hand up. The grip is calloused from guitar playing, strong and sure from slinging amps around—and he feels that zing again, phantom handprints on his ass. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks once they’re on the same level again. “You were really wedged in there, looked kinda painful.”

“I,” Steve starts, but stops when Eddie’s other hand lands on his hip. Which is not completely unusual… Eddie is a touchy guy, very hands-on with all his friends. He’s poked at Steve’s sides before, comparing their bite marks, and Steve hasn’t really thought about it much before now. 

Because that’s what trauma-bonded people do, right? The last party that had rounded up all the young adults, Nancy smoked with them and she and Jonathan had spent most of the rest of the evening cuddled up together, lining up the scars on their palms. 

Eddie’s thumb brushes the skin above his waistband, ghosting warmly over where it’s red and a little raw. 

“I’m fine,” Steve manages to say, but he’s not. His brain is going haywire—from the touch, from Eddie’s Bambi-eyed stare, from all the thoughts that have been pining around his head tonight and everything he’s pointedly not thought about too. (About climbing in a boy’s window. About being jealous. About hands on his ass and how it hadn’t been a bad surprise, and the thumb grazing deliberately over the swell of softness at his middle with concern bordering on reverence.)

Something in Steve aches, and it’s a familiar pang. It reminds him of how he used to feel whenever he looked at Nancy, before he had let go of the last scraps of that dream. Eddie seems more real, more touchable… He always is, when they hang out, and especially when they’re by themselves. Eddie is a touchy guy. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says slowly, distracted. He keeps running his thumb along Steve’s softness, drifting up a little further under his shirt until his pointer finger meets skin too like a dazed afterthought. His tongue darts out to lick his lips—Steve can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to the motion. “Yeah, you are… pretty fine…”

Not once, not for months, has Steve felt electricity like this in the air, under his skin, sparking at a simple touch. It’s why he stopped flirting with the girls who came into Family Video, even the ones who eyed him in a way he knew meant they were a sure thing. The way Eddie is looking at him right now, even though he’s…

Well. He’s let himself go, hasn’t he? And he knows it, kind of knew it for a while and just not thought about it because he didn’t think he had too, but it’s getting obvious now. Steve has never felt more self-conscious about his body in his entire life and, right while he’s in the middle of reconciling wanting to pout because his best guy friend was off having fun without him, Eddie just had to go and compliment it. 

Steve swallows hard. “You, uh. You think so?” He’s not fishing for complements, he’s not, he just wants to know what Eddie means. 

Still slowly, Eddie looks up at him through his eyelashes. It’s almost shy, which is so unlike the Eddie that Steve has come to expect, but his eyes are big and brown and a little wild in an achingly familiar way and Steve has to resist the urge to sway forward—

“Of course, Stevie,” Eddie says quietly. Is he afraid that they might be overheard in the empty trailer? Afraid to break the moment by speaking too loud? His hand is still just under Steve’s shirt, light little touches that Steve can’t help but find soothing, almost hypnotic. “Always.”

Steve wants to lean in, because he knows he’s not reading the signs wrong. 

But then, at the last second, he remembers what Eddie had said about having a few beers with Gareth. Probably just enough to be a little tipsy. But if Eddie is gay—and, like, Steve wouldn’t be surprised, he’s learned some of the clues from Robin and there have always been rumors—he’s not out. Not to Steve, anyway, and Steve… is whatever he is, apparently, which definitely warrants a phone call and possibly a bathroom floor confession to his platonic other half as soon as he gets a chance, holy shit… Suddenly everything feels delicate, like there is something there but one wrong move and it could shatter, and Steve doesn’t know if he could take anymore shards to his heart. Not these days, not if it’s Eddie. 

He just wants to be a little more sure first. Do this right, if it’s really happening. So, for now, he only says, “So, uh. Wanna smoke?”

Eddie smiles, dimples popping and eyes lighting up, and his hand gives Steve’s hip a little inadvertent squeeze as he bounces past him. “Yeah, we can do that. I’ve got a few joints already rolled, I’ve got snacks—” He’s already hauling his black metal lunchbox from under the bed and riffling through it, his bright enthusiasm making Steve feel warm all the way through. “Prop my baby back up, will you? Treat her right, Stevie, or I’ll be forced to rescind my offer of pretzels and bagel bite pizzas.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Steve agrees with a chuckle, and does as he’s told. It doesn’t escape his notice that Eddie just mentioned some of his favorites for when the munchies set in. 

He’s going to figure this out, but for now they can just hang out like normal and have a good night.

[janejellyfish]

I like to think that Eddie would occasionally give love letters to Frank from time to time and Frank would respond with poems or just simple sweet replies. 💌

I also like to think that Eddie being the forgetful fellow that he is, will tend to leave things behind before going to work but never fails to leave behind his love letters to his dear Frank. ♥️

anyway here's a little bonus of Winnie and Wally. ✨

[vyncentevelyn]

Preview of “And When I’m Gone, Remember to Tell the Bees”

This is a preview of my WIP. It’s an excerpt from my project focused on Eddie’s mom, Winnie. This preview is from 4-year-old Eddie’s POV.

CW/TW:  Indirect reference to child neglect/abuse, indirect drug use reference

Eddie likes when the nice lady comes.

She is always happy.

She brings nice things with her. She smells like flowers. She cooks yummy, warm food. She washes Eddie’s hair, makes it feel light and bouncy. She washes Bear. Sometimes she makes mommy smile. Sometimes she makes mommy smell like flowers too. And the whole time she is there, dad doesn’t come home.

She wraps Eddie in a towel, which smells like flowers too. She smiles at him, dries his face.

“How old are you now Eddie?” She asks.

Eddie thinks. He knows someone told him. He wants to get this right. He wants the nice lady to smile at him and tell him he did good. Tears sting his eyes because he does not know the answer.

The nice lady smiles, “Hey now, this is nothing to be sad about.”

Eddie looks up at the nice lady, the tears fall anyway. But Eddie knows to be quiet when he cries now. Knows how to be sad without any sound.

The nice lady’s smile widens showing her gapped front teeth. Eddie thinks she has the prettiest smile. She holds up a slender finger, then another. And another. And another.

She wiggles all the fingers she holds up like a wave and says, “Four.”

“Four.” Eddie repeats.

“That’s how old you are now.” She smiles and then she says, “It’s ok if you forget Eddie. I sometimes forget my age.”

Eddie smiles even though the tears still fall. Sometimes Eddie wishes she would take him with her. She never makes Eddie feel sad. She never makes Eddie feel bad. She never leaves Eddie trapped in the bathroom.

She kisses Eddie’s forehead.

Eddie smiles. Wants to hold on to the nice lady and never let go.

She wraps the towel closer around his shoulders and pulls him into her chest. Squeezes him and Eddie feels so happy the tears fall even more then when he was sad. Which doesn’t make sense. Eddie tries hard to keep the tears quiet but it’s harder when the nice lady holds him.

“It’s ok Eddie.” She says.

And for a second, it is ok. But Eddie knows when she leaves it will all be not ok again.

“Are you hungry?” She asks, still holding Eddie.

Eddie nods.

“Ok, well let’s get you in some PJs. And then we’ll eat some lasagna.” She says carrying Eddie out of the bathroom.

They go out to the living room of the trailer. She helps dress Eddie in PJs that also smell like flowers and fit better than his other ones. Then she sits him at the table and fixes him a plate with a food Eddie doesn’t know. He knows it smells good though. It makes his tummy rumble. And he’s so hungry that he’ll eat it even if it is those tiny green trees he doesn’t like.

She sets the plate down and sits beside him. Eddie smiles, there are no tiny green trees. She helps Eddie eat the food. It’s warm and cheesy. It’s yummy. Eddie thinks it is his new favorite food.

“You know,” she smiles as she watches Eddie chew, “this is your uncle’s favorite dish I make too.”

“Uncle?” Eddie says, mouth still full.

She nods.

“Bear!” Eddie smiles when it clicks. Mommy told him once Bear was from his uncle. And Bear is his favorite toy.

“That’s right.” She smiles and nods her head. “Good job.”

The words make Eddie’s heart feel heavy and warm, like his belly.

“Where is uncle?” Eddie asks.

“He’s in Hawkins. He misses you dearly.” She says.

“Can he come with you?” Eddie tilts his head, looks up at the nice lady.

She looks sad for a second but then says, “He would love to. Maybe he can come with me next time.”

“Ok.” Eddie smiles. He doesn’t want the nice lady to leave.

After dinner, the nice lady cleans the trailer. She makes the whole place smell like an orange. Eddie likes the smell just as much as the flower smell. He watches her clean as he plays with Bear on the couch. As she works, she turns and talks to Eddie, or smiles at Eddie.

Eddie watches her go into the dark room in the back. Hears whispers. Knows that mommy is in there. He wants to tell the nice lady she can’t go in there. But the nice lady never seems to know that. She always goes in and gets mommy. She takes mommy out of the dark room and into the bathroom. He hears the water turn on. Then the nice lady comes back out.

The nice lady looks sad when she helps mommy. Eddie understands. Sometimes Eddie tries to help mommy too. But mommy never wants him around. Maybe mommy doesn’t want the nice lady around too.

The nice lady cleans the dark room. Makes it bright with light and orange smell. And even though Eddie wants to be where the nice lady is, he stays on the couch. He’s too scared of the dark room.

When she stops cleaning in there she goes back in the bathroom. He can hear mommy and the nice lady talking. Can hear mommy cry. He doesn’t understand why mommy cries when the nice lady is there. But maybe the nice lady is holding mommy like she held Eddie and Eddie cried when she held him. So, he understands.

Eddie holds Bear to his chest like the nice lady had held him and how he thinks she’s holding mommy. He wishes to Bear that it fixes mommy. He falls asleep on the couch still holding Bear tight to his chest.

[untilthcyrot]

happy birthday eddie munson for @freakarus inspired by our pinterest board <3

[paintedpatroclus]

steddie kid !

[oftatteredwings]

for: @winnie-nolan​ location: winnie’s townhouse 

These days were the most awkward, when after spending time with the children, Eddie had to either take them back over to Winnie’s or wait for her to pick them up. He wondered if it would ever actually get better, but also, only had himself to blame for the fact they were in this predicament at all. As Theo and Emma raced into the house, he offered a smile and held out the bag she’d sent along with them. “Everything should be in there,” he said simply.