#or anything that isn't Serving Eddie's Story

[strangerstilinski]

𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what? Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.

“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.

It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.

“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”

“No. Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve x you #steve x reader #*

[take-everything-you-can]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: This Fandom has given me the most inspiration I've had in years and this is a thank you to every single one of you. This idea spurred from one too many drinks and unhinged DMs and I'm so excited to share it with you guys. So here goes nothing lol. A special thanks to my lady loves @lesservillain , @ghost-proofbaby , @bettyfrommars , and @bimbobaggins69 for beta reading and letting me fill your inboxes with all my little thots for our little gremlin man !

P.S : BEFORE I GET INTO ANYTHING THIS STORY IS 18+ MINORS NEED TO GTFO PLEASE AND THANK YOU !!!!! Also please remember to like and reblog from your creators It keeps the fandom alive !!! ( honestly don't know what I would do without ya'll )

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader ( Pumpkin )

Summary: A 1950's daydream of malt shop kisses and doo wop singles far behind closed doors. Dreamboat Eddie Munson picks up more than just an extra route. A love that makes you weak in the knees... but how long can you go on loving a man that isn't the one your married to.

TW: Angst- mentions of an affair (adultery), verbal abuse mentions, mentions of weight ( mentions of food within the story throughout), disordered eating, feeling unloved, self deprecation slightly, staying with toxic partner Fluff- pet names, domestic bliss, mutual pining Smut- fingering, soft touches, overstimulation slightly very slight, unprotected PIV, cream pie, spanking,..... tbh i can't think of anymore but if you see any please let me know ... Thank you all so much. ( every chapter will get updated tw)

WC: 4.1K

Flour covers the countertop in your kitchen, and a rolling pin is set to the side while you knead the soft pastry ingredients together. Apples sit freshly peeled in a separate dish. Sliced and added to sugar and cinnamon. Picking up the rolling pin, you do your best to flatten the dough to a thin sheet and mold it to the glass dish before you. 

“Well, this dough is much better than the first,” you say aloud to yourself. Your husband once told you that speaking out loud to yourself was a sign of a weak mind, you never put much stock in that. But here you were doing exactly that as your days consist of waiting for your husband to return home from work. 

You splash a bit of vanilla into the apple mixture to complete your pie filling. Once it is all tucked neatly beneath the fluffy dough, you take a knife and leave four little holes within the surface and crimp the edges together, sealing the flavors within. A touch of sugar is added to the top along with an egg wash before placing the pie on a rack in the oven. A timer is set for twenty minutes, a reminder to lower the temperature and to add your special ingredient.

Soft music plays throughout the house, Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald keep you company on these long lonely days. Lonely but only for such a short time. Your husband works for the state doing something he thinks you're too dumb to understand so why talk about it? If anyone ever asks you simply say ‘Oh please you think a woman wants to know such things’. That usually earns you a laugh at cocktail parties and a warm smile from your man. If you could even call him that. 

Yes, he is your man in the sense that your last names are the same and you had shared the same bed. Where is the love though? It isn’t tangible and hasn’t been for quite some time now. Your day begins and ends with a few words apart from an I love you. You served him still, acted to the prying eyes, as a doting Wife. Four years and Everyone still thought you had a perfect life. 

That dream of white picket fences and shared milkshakes. That love of never-ending kisses and satisfying sex. Everyone around you wanted all that you had. Would they still want your life if they could see past those closed doors and shut curtains? 

Would they want to spend their mornings hiding the bags under their eyes from nights of restless sleep? Would they want to have a constant monologue of the flaws seen in the mirror? Ones that your oh-so-loving husband pointed out to you time and time again. Would they want to cook and clean knowing they would never receive a thank you? No, you knew they wouldn’t. All the small things that build and grow until it becomes a monotonous routine. Walking through days as if the next would be the exact same and then doing it all again and again, Until one day something changed. 

Two months prior A knock on the door, one that started to come once a week. The company of CC & Drums Dairy was paid to bring you a gallon of milk, A necessity your husband called it. A man with long dark locks that flowed over his shoulder and curls that dipped across his forehead under his cap. Deep Brown eyes that sparkled with flecks of amber as the sun hit him just right. Dressed in white overalls to comply with his company uniform and sleek black shoes that shine just as brightly as his smile. His name tag reads Eddie in a sweet embroidered cursive. Eddie, a name that would soon become something you would never forget. 

Your timer goes off as you check the pie, squeezing a lemon over the crust for that citrus tang. Slipping the dessert back into the oven, for another half hour or so, a knock sounds through the house, sending the butterflies in your stomach in a tizzy. Eddie had arrived.

A quick task of undoing the strings to your apron and a fast fix of hair in the mirror you had hung in the hall. A hand to your abdomen as you intake a breath and let it stagger out between your lips, hesitating to open the door. The second you see him you can feel the way the tops of your cheeks heat and plump with a smile. One that matches his.

 You take a second and wonder if he knows how handsome he is. The way the small lines beside his eyes crinkle with years of use. You wonder if he knows that the instant you see him, your heart stops beating. But most of all you wonder if you're the only one those soft eyes and long lashes catch in his gaze. 

“Afternoon darling, I must say this heat wave has got to be breaking records. Ought not keep these out here too long.” as he lifts the small crate of glass bottles holding the product out.

 You knew better than to take it from him, even if every bone in your body screamed too. The last time you tried you nearly flipped the whole crate, underestimating the weight. From that day on you always stood to the side as you let Eddie into your home to set the dairy in your kitchen. It was another thing you wondered about him. Did he do this for everyone else too?

“ Well let's not keep them then sir.” standing to the side he slides past you brushing a hand across the elbow you held to the door. His way of saying hello. Small touches here and there as he could never keep his hands to himself for too long in your presence.

“ Something smells awful delicious in her ma’am.”

“An Apple pie is in the oven, maybe you’ll stay and have a slice. For your troubles of course.” 

“Mhmm, my troubles.” Eddie sat the crate on the counter next to the ice box and turned his body towards you and enveloped you in his stronghold. An intoxicating embrace as he pulled you flush to his body. 

“ I missed you, you know that pretty girl?” soft tone, almost a whisper. A small smile he couldn't see but could feel made its way to your face. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls on your route.” he lets out a small chuckle.

“Only the breathtaking ones.” a falter to your features as your mind reeled with all the possibilities.

 Does he miss Mrs.Cunningham the way he misses you? Does he miss Ms.Buckley the same? That sick green monster finds its way under your skin as you think of all the girls he must have at his beck and call. But today that monster wasn’t going to ruin the few fleeting moments you could spend with him. You needed Eddie in the most carnal of ways.

“Do you want to know what I missed? “ Your fingers trail their way from the small of his back and up over his shoulder, landing on his neck just below his ear. Cupping his face you bring it down and catch his lips as they meet yours. 

“Oh yeah? you missed me too Pumpkin?” a second crash of your lips to his, makes him hum from the back of his throat. His nose nudges yours to the left so his teeth can catch your bottom lip, pulling back slightly to hear the small whine you emit.

“I always miss you, Eddie.”  His hands travel down over your figure as he starts to ruffle the hem of your dress up. Thankful for its length to hide how wet you had become just from him being in the home you share with your spouse. A topic you and Eddie tried to steer clear of, but the wrongness of the act just felt so right. 

Over a year your husband hadn’t touched you, barely talked to you and some days you were even sure he hadn't even looked in your direction. Eddie though, In the last two months, Eddie had made you feel seen. He made you feel heard, and most of all he made you feel desired.  

As his hand finds the thin cotton that covers your cunt he glides his digits over the wet patch that had grown by just the thought of him. A deep hum and a small huff of breath from Eddie against your neck as he kissed his way to your shoulder. 

“So wet for me and I've barely even touched you. Are you that starved for affection?” The words forming in that sweet small surrender to him were all but cut off as he slid a finger through your folds and teased your entrance. A gasp was the response he got, one he loved to hear in protest every time he had you. 

“C’mon honey tell me what you want.” how could you respond to him with words if you couldn't even think of them? The man before you had spent the last few months discovering just how to make you melt in his arms.

 He knew that the spot behind your knee was his best friend for when he had you on your back. He knew the way your hips stutter when you're close to your peak, and he knew that if your eyes found that they couldn't stay open that you were in utter bliss.

 His favorite thing he had learned throughout your time together though was that even when he knew you had your doubts, you still trusted him in every sense of the word. 

After only two months Eddie knew you better than you know yourself. Better than your husband had ever cared to know you.

“ Please, Eddie.” He smiled down at you 

“ Please What Honey?” 

“ Dip in Eddie, Fuck me please.”  He could feel the slackening of your legs as his assault on your clit had made you a bit sensitive, in his focus on making you feel as good as he possibly could, in what little time he had with you. He slid two of his thick fingers into your dripping heat as his thumb stayed in a rhythm that matched his wrist as he curled in and let the sounds of his efforts echo off the small kitchen walls. 

Moaning into Eddie's ear as his finger worked in and out of you making that heat inside of you grow higher and higher. Clutching the strap of his overalls, a small pull leaning back, as the pleasure he was giving you kept climbing. 

“ Come on now baby, let go.” A final intake of air, hold on to the breath that led you to your walls squeezing eddies fingers tight. That coil snapped as you let your body fall slack against him a loud moan from the farthest depths within you found its way out of your lungs. 

When your eyes land on Eddie after your come down all you can see is that smile. The dimple-creasing smile that kept haunting your dreams at night. 

“I need more.” You didn’t know how but his smile grew even wider and more sinister as his tone began to deepen. A kiss is pressed to your lips, not urgent, understanding. 

“ You need more? Well, it's a damn good thing that what you're asking for is in stock then Pumpkin.” He turned you around to face the small table that sat in your kitchen, knowing what he wanted from you. He wasn’t the only one taking notes from your time together. 

You braced yourself against the worn wood and clutched the sides of it as you heard the familiar clinks of metal as his rings fumbled with the buckle of his belt.  

The wait, though it is small, is brutal. Anticipation makes your stomach flip and cunt flutter. A shuffle out of his overalls gives Eddie a moment to just admire the way you listen so well. These small moments have him thanking every bad decision that got him here. To this small town, with this small job, on this small route. A route he picked up as a last resort. Yeah, he doesn't know who he's praying to but whoever is listening, he's singing grace. 

A grip in the slight pudge of your hips to keep himself steady, Eddie is gentle as he slips his cock through your folds gathering your slick over his length and breaching your desire. A deep moan and a few choice words fall from Eddie as he fills you and meets the small wavering gasp you let out, a breath you didn't know you had been holding.  A whine of impatience, his sign to move. 

A soft speed turns ravenous as his dick uses your walls to curve his hooks into you deeper and deeper. A sigh of his name and you can feel the stutter in his thrust. He slows his pace if only to keep himself from having to leave your presence all too soon.  

"Fuck darling, so good to me, taking me so well like this pussy was made for me."  You mewl from beneath him, dropping your forehead to the wood that is holding you up. You fear that if it had not been here your legs would have given up the second he started talking. "Isn't that right pumpkin? Made just for me? " A sharp thrust and you know he wants an answer in the way his grip turns bruising. A trip through your mind as you try and collect the words from thin air. 

"YES! God yes, I was made just for you." 

"Such a good girl for me baby. That's right, isn't it? You're all mine aren't you?"  Another squeeze to your hip and a smack that lands hard on your ass. Eddie's palm kneads the sting as you answer him. 

" All yours, all yours, no one else, just you baby." A grunt hum from the back of his throat as he grips your shoulder and leans so his body is flush with yours. His breath is on your neck as he leans to your ear. 

"Not even your husband, just you and me baby?" 

"Just you and me Ed's" Your eyes tunnel and you see white as your orgasm rushes through you, Eddie's own a thrust away as he moans deep against your skin. His body weight and yours against the kitchen table as you both find your way down from the clouds. 

Small kisses he leaves to your spine and the back of your neck. You turn your head and he places another small one to the upturned corner of your mouth. A bell chimes and you sit for a few seconds letting Eddie gather his own bearings. A small pat to the curve of your pussy as Eddie pulls the cotton back in place. A shock to your sensitivity.

"Keep that in there baby, that way you have a part of me while I'm gone." A heat to your cheeks as the thought of Eddie's cum dripping out of you while your husband sat across from you and read the paper over dinner. A sly smirk from the man you just let defile the small space, one you would let do ungodly things to you. 

You put on oven mitts as Eddie finds a few glasses in the cabinet. You slice into the flakey crust and slip through the filling as you place the large piece on a plate for you to share. Eddie pours milk as you find some silverware, he places the bottles in your fridge so they keep.

Turning with a smile, he is the definition of adoration. In your eyes he is everything. 

Why is it that when his time with you is coming to an end you almost wish it would end as soon as possible? Almost as if you would wish he would part with some harsh words to make you not want him in the most beautiful ways. You have to make yourself believe these things before he leaves because if you don’t, it would just shatter you. So you take a different route, you don’t shatter yourself, instead, you splinter and crack all the things that hold you until you see him again. The times where he glues those little shards back in place if only for you to break them off again and again. A scared thought and a small shake of your head trying to rid yourself of it. A married woman. What would he possibly want from you other than a good lay? 

He sees that doubt within your mind as if reading it. He takes your hand in his as he laces your fingers together. 

“ Penny for your thoughts Pumpkin?” You glance finally meeting his eyes as you clear your throat. 

“ Nothing important hun.” You slide a fork to his side of the table as your eyes dart to the clock.  He squeezes your hand once more, lowering his eyes in search of yours again. 

“It is important if it bothers you.” Your heart stops. The breath you were going to take gets caught in your throat and you turn on that winning smile you had trained yourself to hold in uncomfortable circumstances. One you wish he couldn't see through.

“ It’s nothing Eds, really.” 

“Do you promise?” you take a hand and cup his cheek.

 How do you tell him that he is your first thought in the morning and the last thought before falling asleep? How instead of counting sheep you try and count the freckles on his face by sheer memory?  How could you tell him you wish you were his one and only? That you have never felt about another human soul the way you feel about his. Instead, you stuff it down, apple pie soon to follow. 

“I Promise.”  

You know he doesn’t believe you but he would rather set out to sea and die of starvation as the sharks feed from him than to make the last moments he has with you tainted with fights and tears. God when you cry it absolutely destroys him. 

The first time you had ever let him take you in his arms you had just gotten off the phone with your husband. He had heard hushed words while he waited for you to grab the weekly tip your husband left for him. Your husband had informed you that he would not be coming home, as the fight from the night before had lingered into the morning and would now follow you well into the night. The first time you had opened the door Eddie studied the angelic features of your face, and they had plagued his dreams for such a long time at this point.

When you rounded the corner with a smudge of mascara beneath your eyes, he instantly without thinking took you in, pushing your face to his chest as his hand rested on the back of your head. Slight comfort made the tears begin again as he wiped the remainder of the smudge and irritation from your face. No man had ever done something as small as comforting you before.  In the two months since he had started this route, he knew he had instantly fallen head over heels in love with you.

You had taken two bites from the plate that sat in front of you and Eddie had finished the slice. He even went as far as to slide a finger in the crumbs on the plate and lick them off in an attempt to show you how much he had enjoyed it. His time with you. 

A gathering of glasses you brought to the sink as he brought the other dishes and sat them in the deep well while wrapping his arms around your waist and you stood eyes closed relishing in the last little bit of affection he could offer to you. 

A kiss to your shoulder as you turn your head resting it on his.

“I’ll be by in a week Pumpkin.” A nod to the fact you already knew. “ Seven days.” Another nod, not risking the crumble in your voice. “ Not long at all.”  Another small kiss to your cheek as you turned into his chest and rested your forehead on his. 

“Seven days?” 

“ Seven days Pumpkin. Do you think you can wait for me? Just seven days? “

“I think I could wait a lifetime for you Eddie.” 

“I’ll see you in a week, Mrs.Carver.”

“ A week Mr.Munson.” 

A kiss to your lips and a parting gift of his very own pie before he snuck out through the back door, so as to not raise suspicion. A slow walk from the kitchen to the door and to turn a lock, on your mind. On your hope. You could do this. You could wait seven days.

Your husband comes through the door late as he had been doing for the last year or so. You had expected it from him at this point. You had started to make his dinner later and later knowing that if you had made it too early he would tell you all the ways he couldn't eat it. If it had gone too cold he would refuse and the hard work would go directly into the trash. 

He walked in as you took his dinner off the stove and placed it on a dish for him.

“Right on time doll.”

“ I don’t know how on time it is, It’s Nearly eight in the evening, Jason!”     

“ I’m not doing this with you tonight.”  

He always did this. He would come home and you would ask him where he had been, and he’d always end the conversation before it could even begin. You sat his plate in front of him as you sat across the table from him. Times where you could really take him in and see that the feelings you had once long ago were snuffed out like a flame to a candle.

“ Are you not eating dear?” 

“ I ate a bit earlier in the day.”

“Thanks for waiting .”  He rolled his eyes and you returned the gesture. 

“ I wouldn’t have had to wait if you had just picked up the phone and told me when you were going to be on your way home. I’m not waiting until we hit a new day to eat Jason I’m not going hungry just so you-”

“ Wouldn’t harm you any though would it.” 

You left the table. Your weight had started to become a key focus as he knew it bothered you more than anything else. You had gained some weight and your mother and friends had commented on it from time to time. For your husband to tho, it made you furious. You ate when you were unhappy, it was something you had done since you were a child. The only person who thought you could stand to eat a little more had been Eddie. 

It happened slowly, you would make him food now and then, and the majority of the time He would offer you a bit. It started with a bite and progressed into cutting his sandwiches in half just so you could have something to eat. Unlike your husband, Eddie had a suspicion that you weren’t eating enough. Like you weren’t giving your body what it needed to survive so he would constantly ask for you to eat with him. At least then he would know you had something of substance within your day.  

You had gone to your bedroom and gotten out of your daily’s slowly separating them into their hampers waiting to hear the stomping footsteps of Jason as he made his way to the spare bedroom. He had taken residency there about a month before Eddie came into your life and you were thankful for the times that Eddie left you yearning for more. To call out another man's name while with your significant other no matter how insignificant they were would still bring you shame like no other.

Slipping into your nightgown as Jason shuts the door to his room you wait a few minutes to take the walk back down the stairs to stand in front of the sink. Looking up at the sky through the window above the stars seem to shine brightly. You attempt to find the little dipper and look for its companion not far from where it lays, the version of a larger size. Constellations begin to blur as you let the silent tears fall. Hoping that somewhere out there in this little old town, Eddie too is looking up at the moon and wishing you were by his side as you wished upon all the stars in the sky. What a long time seven days would be.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #milkman!eddie #eddie fluff #eddie munson au #eddie munson series #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic

[lil-doodle-noodle]

NO NAME AU

(HORROR AU)

CREATURES

Poppy: In the kitchen, making delicious pies! Who doesn't want a pie made out of the small people running around like mice? Her mouth is usually closed, opening to show a mouth wider than it should be.

Howdy: Long arms, like a spider, and moth wings that bled into his surroundings. He can easily catch you off guard, often diving silently, so watch out. He can be spotted around a light source, knowing folks feel safer under the beam. Though hard to see, you can usually tell it's him by his beady eyes that seem to glow.

Barnaby: Rough fur, cold body, torn scalp... It was like a walking corpse. He roams around wherever he pleases, often being heard by his heavy footsteps or breathing. He smells like rotting flesh, a human heart beating slowly in his chest.

Julie: A girl without eyes, using her flowers to see. They are scattered everywhere, even in places flowers usually wouldn't be. Nowhere is safe from one growing. Keep an eye out, these flowers can capture and hold.

Eddie: He is the most sane looking out of all of them, having a relatively normal appearance, aside from having no mouth. He is known as a “gentle giant”, but he is merely tricking you. He waits for you to get close enough before snatching you and taking you to Home.

Home: An unknown entity who had begun to leak through the house that Wally had once lived in. A being who had fully manifested over many nights, eventually becoming powerful enough to make a few changes.

WANDERERS

Frank: A man who’s spent his time documenting every creature and its mannerisms. Very knowledgeable and is the main guy behind the planning (food, items, escape routes, safe passageways). Lost Eddie.

Sally: The scavenger. She is the leader of the folks tasked with going out for supplies, food, medicine ingredients. She is in charge of keeping everyone in order inside the safety of their camp, as well. Lost Julie.

Wally: The lookout. Wally suffers from insomnia, usually leading him to being the watchful eye during the night, when everyone is asleep. When he does sleep, however, it isn't long before the nightmares come. Usually stays in the camp unless told otherwise. Lost Barnaby.

Y/N: Helps around whenever they can. Can usually be seen by the two leaders or the watch out. Almost fell for Eddie’s gentle lie. Doesn't remember where they came from, but they were found unconscious and brought back to camp.

STORY

Welcome Home was a normal neighborhood, though it was media. The characters were not aware of such information, assuming they were real. One night, behind the set, some kids thought it would be fun to summon a demon. They did not know of the reality of what they saw as puppets. They did not know they had lives in a seemingly other world.

When they did it, it didn't seem like anything happened. But it did. And they were the first victims.

When the demon was summoned, it had appeared in the world of Welcome Home, leaking out of Wally’s Home like tar. It was worrying to the neighborhood, especially to Wally. Home never sounded like it used to, sounding more… unsettling. Over the days, the demon claimed lives in the real world, growing more powerful with each soul. Those kids that had summoned it now serve, possessed, bringing new souls for it to consume.

Once day, it had grown powerful enough to change things, able to feed off of the negative energies. It had waited long enough to change even living creatures. The neighborhood turned into a world of a nightmare. It was always dark, the world seemed to tower over the neighbors.

The souls fed to the demon were used as puppets for the entity, capturing several of the neighbors before they understood what was happening. Only Sally, Frank, and Wally were left, having watched their beloved community change into monsters. The captured were taken to Home, where it painfully changed them into who they were not.

They grew and changed. If you listen closely, some say you can still hear their screams when you look into their eyes.

The survivors, or “wanderers”, built a camp in a place far from Home. It was in a hollow, covered by bushes and fallen leaves. To their confusion, new folks appeared, who had no idea where they had come from. The folks were often found unconscious and brought back to camp.This is Home’s doing. He wanted new toys and didn't want to transform these beings immediately, though this is not the case for all sacrifices from the real world.

#welcome home #welcome home au #au #my au #no name au

[gayofthefae]

Was making a list of how many people's stories no Byler affects but it got too long. The point was: A well written story has all arcs intertwined, like this one does. And intertwined stories can only have one ending. Move one piece, any piece, and the whole thing falls apart. We knew this about Mike, Will, and El, but it's true about everybody (and any changed plotline). That's the nature of an ensemble cast with relationships to each other. That's the nature of intertwined stories; that's the nature of good writing.

Make Will unhappy and Jonathan stays focused on helping him, shifting his focus off of Nancy. If we go further, that may affect Steve (even if just how he views the situation), that focus change affecting his relationships with Dustin, who needs him in the aftermath of Eddie, and Robin, who still needs her confidant. Mike would feel helpless to make Will happier because if he didn't reciprocate, he would be, making him less confident in himself and "without heart", they would all fall apart, being more endangered because stories dictate that you have to be your best self to defeat the monster you couldn't before and these would be far from their best selves and worse off than season 4 when they failed the first time. A lack of Mike's support endangering their goals bodes worse for Max, abandoning Lucas and isolating El, at best making them more frantic and desperate/down to the wire. El's distress takes Hopper's focus. Joyce's focus would have also been shifted to a distressed Will, barring her from more connection with Jonathan.

[I did not work-in Erica, Murray, or Karen only because I have not analyzed their arcs enough in the past and don't want to deep dive on them right now, but I can't imagine this DOESN'T affect them. But for quick connections at first glance, Mike's probably affects Karen, Lucas' and Dustin's affect Erica, and Hopper and Joyce's affect Murray. Just like- historical relationship and screen-time based.]

I'm not saying everyone would split up or anything but to make it as simple as possible, it would change screentime. Characters who usually start out together would either stay together or part differently than they otherwise would have based on they natural motives within this alternate situation, establishing and at a certain point in the supernatural plot, cementing them in different groupings than are required for the fulfillment of their own arcs. No one character can be written to support another if it doesn't also serve their character but it is ALSO true that they cannot be put in a situation where not providing that support would be out of character. Their actions have to be in character and congruent to all character arcs involved. That's writing. Mess with it, and everyone's fucked and they die.

So yeah, thanks for reading my post about how if Byler isn't endgame everybody is gonna die.

edit: fun bonus - this makes literally everything Byler proof.

#byler comfort #byler #stranger things #the duffer brothers #*writing*

[runningupthatvecna]

intro and masterlist

hiiii everyone

this post will serve as a little intro to my blog and will contain my masterlist with fic i've written.

to start things off, let me say a few words about myself since i guess that's important. you can call me nora (but honestly, any pet name works too lol), i am from germany and i've been on tumblr since 2011. back in the day i used to be obsessed with big time rush, which is why you will receive likes and follows from my main (@kenloshenderlow), never from this blog (sadly, i wish tumblr would let you change that). further passions of mine include all things finland, (rock) bands and photography. anyway, i only started paying rightful attention to stranger things in 2022, thanks to jamie's insanely fascinating performance as henry creel, which is why runningupthatvecna is fairly new. i blog about the usual suspects and pretty much all things stranger things as well as other roles of the cast members that i find interesting. eddie munson is (i know, surprise) my absolute weakness. please always feel free to message me about just anything! it's always so lovely to talk to new people on here and i'd love to get to know you all more! i'm just way too introverted myself to push myself out there (which is silly, i know) and i really appreciate every single comment/like/reblog of anything i post or reblog myself!

most importantly as we're now moving on to my own silly little stories: my blog is not intended for minors! to make things clear: if you are not 18 years or older, please leave and do not interact with any content you find on this blog. if you are amongst my followers and i find your blog bio blank/ageless, i will block you without warning. i do not condone nor entertain any form of harrassment, discrimination, abuse, spread of personal and private information/photos of actors, violence, general disrespect, etc. and my blog is supposed to be a safe space.

MASTERLIST

i will update this post as much as necessary. hope it helps you find things easier. it will also look less aesthetically pleasing in the first weeks of its life so bear with me here lol

also, please refrain from asking to be included in the taglist if you do not reblog the story. reblogs are vital for writers/creators on this platform and they keep the place alive, so please reblog the work you enjoy reading for free.

–

Eddie:

the law of seat partners: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

hot thoughts about eddie and plussize!reader here

more thoughts about eddie and plussize!reader here (wow isn't she creative)

#masterlist #nora writes #intro #personal

[child-of-hurin]

Was thinking about Irene's relationship with power, went looking for these quotes and was a little surprised: I had forgotten they're literally in the same chapter, that is, Vol I chapter 5. First this:

“[Sophos] let a traitor play on his weakness, and the result of his mercy is that he is asked for even more mercy.” She finally began to work at the pins in her complicated braids, pulling them too hard, catching a few hairs with each pin and pulling anyway. “Nomenus has petitioned to be pardoned.” “Many of Sophos’s barons did worse and suffered not at all.” Eugenides crossed the room to stand behind her. Meeting his gaze in the mirror, Attolia glared. “We are kings and queens, not all-powerful gods. We cannot reward the good men and punish the bad ones just as we would prefer."

Then just a couple of pages later:

The king swung to face the queen, looked down again at his hand held to his chest. “It hurts,” he said. His voice breaking. “Serves you right,” said the queen, every word as cold as ice. “Serves me right?” said the king. Incredulous as well as angry, he said, “Serves me right?” “You dare,” said Attolia, rising to her feet like a thundercloud. “You dare impugn me.” “He was kissing you!” “He was insulting me!” “You told them to shut the doors!” the king shouted. They stood facing each other. “Why? Why?” wailed the king, until Attolia gritted her teeth and gave the answer that should have been obvious. “If I cannot kill the Pent ambassador, then neither will you.”

There's a lot these passages make me think of, besides the obvious point of the limits of power. For exemple: In her own POV passages in book 2, Irene obsessively mirrored herself in Helen; it's really great here to see her start to compare herself, as a monarch, against Sophos and Gen.

It also makes me think of gender in this book; I like how it is always so present even when it isn't... It's clear Gen and Irene both change in order to fulfill a role never meant for them, or someone like them. But they don't just change themselves, they also change the role itself in order to better fit them. All that eventually takes its toll, and it means neither is free to do as they wish.

For Gen, this compromise means a loss of freedom, but for Irene it means a gain of freedom. Being a man and a woman of the same social status, they're nonetheless coming from opposite circumstances. I think about this a lot whenever Gen's nuptial proposal of running away comes up in fandom discussions; I literally cannot imagine Irene ever accepting, or having something like that as a dream of her own... For Gen, a common married life means the loss of his social status as kin to Eddis, but he's still his own master. For Irene, a common married life means not just the loss of her social status, but the loss of any power she has managed to ever hold in the singular position of queen. A man might just be a guy, but a woman has an owner -- be it her father, her husband or her slaveowner. Irene is acutely aware of how, in some specific circumstances, there might be little difference between those.

On a tangent, I think it's very interesting that the narrative later proves Irene right in the matter of Ion Nomenus's character, but leaves judgement open as to whether it would have been better to execute him or not. He's so minor, you get the feeling it wouldn't have changed anything in the development of the war, or the story. Pardoning him or not really just ends up feeling like a matter of personal judgement. For Sophos, would killing him be justice, vengeance, or a message to other potential traitors?

Irene's mercy and cruelty are always very calculated for effect, but she vocally regrets things she feels she has to do, and things she feels she cannot do; she has a strong sense of justice, and of survival. It's all very muddled together, though: her impersonal justice, her personal vengeance, and the theatrical excesses for the sake of sending a message. For her, as it often is, killing Ion Nomenus would be all three.

#I just think it's neat #:) #marry me attolia irene #queen's thief #return of the thief #elizabeth beware

[felicitydanforth1692]

The Queen & The Freak: Chapter 3

Word count: 9,021

Summary: Chrissy Cunningham is suffering from horrendous nightmares that seem to real to be just that. Out of desperation, Chrissy goes to the school's drug dealer, Eddie Munson hoping he would have something to help her. But maybe it isn't the drugs that are keeping the dreams away, but maybe the drug dealer himself.

Chapter 3

Chrissy was never eager to go home. The only time she would ever enjoy her home was when she was alone. When her brother was out with friends, her father working late and her mother busy with her book club. But that wasn’t the case tonight, not with the big game in a few hours. Her parents wanted to be supportive . . . of Jason. Her boyfriend. He was the captain of the basketball team and the swim team. She was just a cheerleader. All she did was stand to the side, wave her pom-poms and look pretty. Just stand there and cheer for their future son-in-law.

Chrissy pulled into the driveway of her two story home with trepidation. The only thing that kept her from pulling out and driving away was the fact that she wasn’t going to stay long. Maybe just long enough to rinse off, snack and relax before leaving again for the school to practice for the game.

And then she was going to Eddie Munson’s place. That was the part she focused on the most. But every time her mind brought it up her stomach would erupt in butterflies. A mix of the good and bad butterflies. She felt giddy with excitement for a moment and nauseous the next. Not that she was scared of Eddie. If anything she was beyond curious. What was he like outside of school and drug deals? Was he just as eccentric or was he . . . she didn’t know. Chrissy didn’t know what to think about him and she didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

Chrissy stepped foot into her home to be greeted by the smell of cooking chicken. It caused her to pause entirely, her stomach growing nauseous again with a desperate growl. She placed a ginger hand on her stomach as she carefully made her way into the kitchen to see her mother cooking one of her favorite meals; grilled chicken, corn, peas and mashed potatoes. Not that she was going to have any.

“I’m home,” Chrissy greeted quietly, unzipping her sweater.

Her mother, Laura Cunningham looked over her shoulder to gaze at her daughter. It wasn’t a warm gaze but a calculating one, her gray eyes roaming her up and down before turning back to the food.

“Is dad home?” Chrissy asked as she crept further into the room. She tried to peek over her mother’s shoulder for just a little glimpse of their dinner.

“Not yet,” Laura answered sternly. “He’ll be back in time for dinner.”

Chrissy nodded even though her mother wasn’t looking at her, and she sighed softly. “Are you and dad going to be at the game tonight?” She asked.

“Unfortunately no,” Laura sighed as she turned away from the food. Chrissy watched her mother begin to set the table before her eyes trailed to the cooking food. “I have a book club meeting tonight and Cody can’t be left alone, he’s still grounded. What a shame. Jason’s going to win the big game and bring Hawkins to victory.”

Chrissy felt her shoulder slouch forward, her bag now hanging out of her left hand. She tried not to let her mother’s words hurt her too bad, seeing how she’s heard far, far worse things. She approached the kitchen cabinets over the stove, reaching for a small bag of pretzels. She looked down at the readied mashed potatoes, all fluffy and warm, ready to be served. It was one of her favorite dinner servings growing up. She remembered when her grandparents would eat at their home for Thanksgiving and her grandpa would always make her plate. Her favorite part was always the mashed potatoes, fluffy, salty and swimming in gravy.

She hadn’t had a dish like then since he passed away. Since then, her mother had put her foot down.

“Absolutely not,” Laura grabbed her daughter’s arm and pulled her away from the stove. “Step away, Chrissy.”

Chrissy stumbled back, nearly dropping her items with a weak whimper. “I wasn’t-”

“I know that look,” Laura cut her off harshly, placing the cover over the pot. “You know the rules, Christine. Especially when there’s a big game tonight.”

“I know,” Chrissy said helplessly. “I know mom I just, can I just have one small plate tonight? I won’t eat that much and, I have to leave in an hour or two for practice-”

“And is Jason going to be at practice?” Laura demanded.

“I-” Chrissy swallowed, her shaking hands gripping and crinkling the bag of pretzels. “Well, I think so yeah, but-”

“No buts.” Laura snapped harshly with a swift turn of her shoulders. “You don’t want Jason to think you’re a pig do you?”

Chrissy pictured her face as an hourglass, flipping her body upside down for the sand to fall and fill up the bottom. But instead of sand, the color of her face fell downward, leaving her skin pale and colorless. She looked down at her shoes trying her damndest not to cry in front of her mother. She would scold her. Ridicule her and suffocate her with a lecture she didn’t need nor want to hear. Instead she lifted her head with a shake of her head.

“No,” she whispered. “No mom, I don’t.”

“Good,” Laura scoffed with a shake of her head. She looked down and noticed the bag of pretzels in her hand and snatched them without hesitation. Chrissy jumped, pulling her hand away from the harsh scrape of the plastic against her skin. “No pretzels. You can have an apple before you leave for the game.”

Laura walked away without another word or glance, continuing to cook for herself and her family. Chrissy didn’t hesitate to leave the kitchen, hurrying upstairs to the safety of her bedroom. She closed and locked the door behind her, taking a moment to catch her breath. She dropped her backpack carelessly before hurrying to open her bedroom window, letting in the cool spring breezes. She closed her eyes and allowed the cool air to fill her longs, and the calmness returned.

Chrissy removed her cheer sweater and uniform, placing her uniform into her basket of dirty clothes before approaching her closet. There she had a second cheer uniform she had ordered in secret and was better at fitting her form than the other. Less tight and more comfortable. Sure it might be a little loose around her hips but as long as her sweater covered it up her mother wouldn’t notice.

Chrissy removed her bra and panties to quickly wrap her robe around herself for her quick shower, loosening her hair in the process. Gathering her clean uniform and other clean clothes Chrissy made her way into the family bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. The game was in a few hours but practice was in one. One hour of practicing her flips, kicks, cartwheels, back-handsprings and tumbling. What made her nervous was practicing those moves on an empty stomach. Not that she had never done that before. She did it all the time. But this was during a game. A big game. In front of a lot of people. What if she were to faint or worse; have another episode? What if she should cancel on her team and just wait at Eddie’s van?

“No.” Chrissy whispered as she started the shower. “You won’t bail on the team. They’re counting on you. You can do this and then you're home free.”

Although that wouldn’t be the term she would use.

Her shower was hot and short. She dried off quickly before placing her hair back into its ponytail and slipping on her second uniform. She stopped herself from putting the blowdryer away, the cord halfway wrapped around before she looked at herself in the mirror. She bit her lip in deep thought, carefully setting the dryer down. She turned sideways reluctantly, raising the top of her uniform with an unsteady hand to look at her body, and she sighed.

Her stomach was flat, barely any stomach to see. She turned to face herself in the glass to see her ribs poking out from under her skin. Not in an unhealthy way, not in the way she would be labeled anorexic. But they were still noticeable. Chrissy took in a deep breath to watch her rib cages reappear and disappear, and knew deep down she had to be careful. She needed to be very careful. Maybe she shouldn’t throw up as much. Or should she be eating less?

“Chrissy?” A pounding came from the other side of the door. Chrissy dropped her shirt with a scream, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth while the other braced the sink counter. “Chrissy? Chrissy, what’s wrong?”

It wasn’t the deep and graveling voice she kept hearing in her head. Instead it was the voice of her younger brother, Cody. Chrissy squeezed her eyes shut as fresh tears were threatening to spew out, and not just from being startled. She remembered that moment in the bathroom stall, as if she was able to forget it.

“I'm gonna gut you like the fat pig that you are!” Her mother’s voice screamed at her from the other side.

“Chrissy?” The pounding started on the other side again. “Come on, I have to pee!”

“O-Okay,” Chrissy shoved the hairdryer into the cabinet under the sink. “Okay. I’m coming out.” And she did, opening the door to be greeted by the glowing face of her brother.

He was a freshman that year while she was a few months away from graduation. And he was still sweet despite the fact that he should be going through that attitude faze. But he was a good kid brother, still close to his big sister.

“Are you okay?” Cody asked, immediately taking in his sister’s pale face and shaky hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Chrissy shook her head while putting on her best fake smile. “Nothing, I'm fine. Go ahead and go pee.”

Chrissy ruffled his hair lovingly before she hurried to her room, closing the door behind her. She was relieved to hear her brother didn’t linger, but continued his business. She dove for her sweater, slipping it on and zipping it up before turning to her dresser. She sat down and applied her usual eyeliner and she paused. Would she need anything else? Maybe some . . . lip-gloss? Maybe Eddie would like it-

Chrissy stopped the stick that was still on her lips and her eyes widened to realize what she was doing. She hated putting on lip-gloss, and she wasn’t putting it on for Jason . . . but for Eddie. She was putting on lip-gloss for Eddie. Pink lip-gloss. She was going over to his house that night after the game. She wondered if he would like her wearing lip-gloss. As if they were going on a date.

Chrissy snapped her lip-gloss shut, dropping it down on her dresser with the rest of her makeup and a shaky breath. She had a boyfriend; captain of the basketball and swim team, a pastor’s son. A good boy. This was just a drug deal for one night. Yes Eddie was completely friendly earlier that day at the picnic table but that’s all. He was just friendly. He was being nice. Because Eddie was nice, yes. That didn’t mean he liked her more than a memory from middle school. And for some reason, that made her chest crack in pain.

The alarm clock on her desk flashed its red numbers, telling her that it was time to head back to school for practice. Chrissy gathered her gym bag, prepared for any potential mishaps that could happen through the night and made her way downstairs. She paused in the doorway of the family dining room, watching her mother glare at her from the other side of the table, barely noticing her father approaching from behind.

“Hey, Ladybug,” her father, Phillip Cunningham, greeted warmly with a kiss to her temple. “How was school?”

Chrissy smiled at her dad, wringing the straps of her bag in her hands. She always did favor her dad over her mother, for obvious reasons. He was kind to everyone, especially his children, his blonde hair aging faster than her mothers but his brown eyes still kept their warmth. From the moment of birth Chrissy was destined to be a daddy’s girl, but that had its limits. Chrissy had made it her life’s mission for her dad to never find out about her little . . . problem. The throwing up and her episodes. His life with his mean-spirited wife was hard enough, and the last thing she wanted was to add more weight to his plate. For now, her father had no idea.

At least she hoped he didn’t.

“It was fine,” Chrissy lied, watching her family gather around the dinner table with a heavy chest. “I’m just ready for spring break and everything.”

“Chrissy was just leaving for practice.” Laura cut into the conversation.

“You’re leaving already?” Phillip frowned toward his daughter as Cody entered the dining room. “I think you should stay for dinner first, at least.”

“Chrissy has to go to practice,” Laura cut in more harshly. “She has to go and support Jason.”

“Well she can’t do that on an empty stomach.” Phillip began to argue.

Chrissy stood there frozen as she watched her parents begin to bicker back and forth. A frog formed in her throat as she shook her head to herself, and she grabbed her father’s arm. “It’s fine, daddy,” she said with her fake smile. “It’s fine. I don’t want the squad waiting on me. I can eat when I get home.”

“You see,” Laura waved her hand. “She’s fine. Let her go.”

Phillip Cunningham was painfully silent as he stared at his only daughter, his eyes drilling a hole into the middle of her forehead. Chrissy prayed to God that he couldn’t see right through her, that he couldn’t see that she was lying and suffering right in front of him. She needed to leave and fast before he could ask her any questions.

Chrissy reached up and kissed her father on the cheek, grabbed an apple from the kitchen counter’s basket before making her way towards the door. She reached into her bag for her car keys before freezing in place to see Jason’s car pulling into the driveway. She glanced toward the door from the fear her mother would see before taking off down the walkway towards the car.

“Jason?” She asked, trying to come off as happy and surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, babe,” Jason grinned as he stood halfway out of his fiery red car. “Thought I would give you a ride to practice before the game.”

“Oh,” Chrissy gulped, managing to hide her displeasure behind her fake smile. “That’s sweet of you.”

“It’s no trouble,” Jason patted the roof of his ride. “Hop in, babe.”

Chrissy obeyed, placing her bag on her lap as Jason peeled out of the driveway and down the road. Chrissy sat in silence, biting her lip as she tried to think of a way around her new situation. She had planned on driving herself to practice, that way she would be able to follow Eddie home and then drive home if she changed her mind. Just like he said. She didn’t expect Jason to pop up out of nowhere and drive her to school. Sure he had done it before but after he gave her a call to confirm, not to pop up in surprise. How was she going to explain this to Eddie? There’s no way he would volunteer to drive her to his home. Would he?

“You’re quiet, Chrissy,” Jason’s voice knocked her back to the present. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Chrissy answered immediately. She looked at him with her sweet smile that always seemed to work in her favor. “Nothing is wrong, I just,” she looked down. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just thinking about what to do over spring break.”

“We’ve already made plans, babe,” Jason nudges her gently. “You’re spending spring break with me.”

“I told you I might not be able to do that, Jason.” Chrissy’s desperation tried to ooze its way through her words, causing her to swallow and try again. “What if I already had my own plans.”

“What plans could you already have?” Jason suddenly demanded, but kept his tone light and almost condescending at the same time.

“Cheer practice, wanting to hang out with some of my other friends, maybe go with my dad to find which college I would like to go to.” Her eyes widened as Jason suddenly laughed at her.

“You’re going to the same college with me, babe,” he reached over to rub her knee. Chrissy tried not to cringe from his clingy touch as he smiled at her. “We planned it sophomore year, remember?”

“I didn’t think you were being serious,” Chrissy confessed. “It was our second year of dating.”

“And for some that’s a lifetime.” Jason turned away from the road to look her in the eye, and he smiled. “I’m always gonna be here to look after you, babe.”

That’s what Chrissy was worried about. Jason was always going to be there, around every corner and intervene in everything she has or will have in her life. She was stuck in a loveless relationship, at least from her side, though she was sure Jason loved her. Maybe a little too much. It frightened her of how much Jason would act as if they were a married couple. She wasn’t allowed to talk to other boys without him near, how he would sometimes encourage her to tell him where she was going and when she was going to be back. It was all beginning to become too much for her to handle.

“Hey babe?” Jason suddenly asked softly. Chrissy looked at him with such a sad, helpless look. Jason was giving her a soft look before his eyes fell downward to her hands. “Are you going to eat that?”

Chrissy’s face dropped even more as she looked down at the apple in her hand.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chrissy was not at her best during the game. She once again put on her best fake smile, waving her pom poms and bounced up and down and cheered for their team to win. She looked to her fellow cheerleaders to see they were putting on better smiles and all of their energy into cheering for their teams. Hell, the other team’s cheerleaders were putting on a better performance than her. But Chrissy had more important things on her mind.

Eddie Munson. The drugs. Meeting at his home. Having to ask Eddie for a ride to his place because she was driven to the school. It was getting to her head, causing her muscles to tense up, her head getting heavier and heavier with exhaustion. It was only when the game ended that she could breathe in a sigh of relief.

Chrissy didn’t hesitate to bolt for the girl’s shower room, bypassing her friends and people coming down from the bleachers. She hurried for her bag, shoving her pom poms into her large gym bag, grabbing her sweater and hurried toward the back door.

“Chrissy,” the voice of Heather stopped her from opening the door. Chrissy turned to face her friend as she approached. “Where are you going? You’re going to the party right?”

“No,” Chrissy glanced over her shoulder at the door. “No I can’t, remember?” She made a gesture with her eyebrows. “I have that little . . . meeting.”

Heather’s eyes grow comically wide in realization. “That’s right now?” She demanded. “Y-You’re meeting Eddie Munson for the drugs tonight?”

“Keep your voice down.” Chrissy grabbed Heather’s hand and dragged her out the back door as the sound of her cheer squad entered the room. “I met with Eddie earlier today.” Chrissy said once the door closed, leaving them in silence. “He didn’t have what I needed, so I agreed for him to take me to his place to get it. Apparently what he has is too good to carry around on school grounds.”

“I don’t like this, Chrissy,” Heather took her hand worriedly. “You’re going to Eddie Munson’s place tonight? By yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” Chrissy shook her head. “I have to have those drugs Heather, before I lose my mind.” She looked around her as she saw many people were leaving. “I have to go now before he leaves. I’ll fill you in tomorrow, okay?”

Heather didn’t have another moment to speak as Chrissy took off. She made sure she was hidden from familiar eyes as she peered around the corner of the building, watching families and friends get in their cars to go home. Scanning the cars, ones moving and some not, was when she spotted Eddie’s van. She had watched him get in and out of that van many times. And he was still there.

Chrissy waited for the perfect opportunity to run across the parking lot and hid in front of the van. It was there she could sit down to catch her breath and try to calm her pounding heart. “You’re okay, Chrissy,” she scolded herself. “Relax. Calm down. You liked his band, nothing will happen.”

If only she believed herself. She didn’t.

Chrissy remained on the ground, her bag close beside her as she waited for all the cars to leave. She was positive that she heard Jason’s car speed off, almost sounding angry that maybe because he couldn’t find her before he left. Or maybe because she “left” without him. Knowing him well enough, it was very possible. But Chrissy held her ground, remaining where she was and she waited and waited and waited.

Then there were footsteps. She listened as the back of the van opened, shuffling and scuffling about. It was time to reveal herself.

Chrissy grabbed her bag as she stood and made her way around the van. With the doors open she couldn’t see who it was, but judging from the white Reebok shoes, black jeans and wallet chain, she had a pretty good idea of who it was.

“Eddie?” She managed to ask. She gasped as a loud and sudden bang was heard and Eddie stumbled a few steps back, rubbing the back of his head. “Oh my God,” Chrissy dropped her bag and stepped closer. “Are you okay?”

“Jesus, Cunningham,” Eddie grinned a bit as he rubbed his head. “Where did you come from?”

“Oh I ah,” Chrissy wrung her hands nervously. “I was, um, waiting here for you.”

That caused Eddie to pause a moment, staring at her with his hand still holding the back of his head. “Waiting by my van?” He asked.

“Mmhmm,” Chrissy wrung her hands nervously as she glanced down at her feet. “Is that okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie nodded as he looked around him curiously. “I just ah, figured you would have your own ride.”

“That was the plan.” Chrissy looked down guiltily. “But then Jason picked me up to take me to the game. I didn’t know he was going to. So, um, I was just hoping that you would, um, drive me to your house?”

Her breath hitched when Eddie’s brows rose up in surprise, placing his hands in his back pockets as he fidgeted nervously.

“But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chrissy quickly back tracked. “We-We can do this another time and-and I can just walk home. Or Heather, if she’s still here, she can give me a ride home-”

“Whoa whoa hey, slow down there, Princess,” Eddie held up his hands with that grin of his. “I have no problem driving you to my place. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask me, that’s all.” He shrugged.

“Oh. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to spring it on you last minute,” Chrissy fiddled with her bag nervously.

“It’s just a car ride, Cunningham,” Eddie’s grin widened further. “And don’t worry I’ll get you home before people know you’re missing.”

Chrissy blushed and backed up as Eddie closed the van doors. She turned in the direction of the passenger side door only to be walking behind Eddie as he walked in the same direction. Her mad blushing burned brighter as he opened the door for her with that grin of his, and she tried not to look away.

“Milady,” he bowed slightly as he gestured to the door.

Chrissy couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping past her lips as she gave a small curtsy. “Thank you, sir,” she approached and pulled herself up into the seat.

Chrissy took a few seconds to admire and look around Eddie’s van. It was clean, causing her to feel guilty for feeling surprised. Despite the dirt and faint mud stains on the floor of the front seats, there was nothing else except the faint smell of smoke. Fortunately it wasn’t at all disturbing or overwhelming. There weren't any odd or questionable stains, empty soda or beer cans or fast food wrappers. It was just a simple, normal van.

Chrissy happily placed her bag at her feet just as Eddie entered the driver’s side. She avoided his eyes as she reached to buckle herself in as Eddie placed the key into the ignition. But the layered calmness didn’t last long as blaring guitars and screaming came through the van’s speakers. Chrissy let out a startled scream, bringing her mouth to her hand as she turned in her seat. She watched Eddie almost dive to turn the music down before popping out the cassette tape.

“Sorry,” Eddie apologized with a strained look on his face. “I uh, like my music loud. And I forgot how loud it was when I parked.”

“It’s okay,” Chrissy couldn’t help but smile. “Think of it as payback for making you hit your head.”

“Ah now that doesn’t seem fair,” Eddie grinned as he pulled out of the school parking lot. “Besides, it didn’t hurt that much. I’ve felt far worse.”

“Well I’m still sorry,” Chrissy settled back in the seat of the van.

The van then fell into a comfortable silence as Eddie and Chrissy kept their eyes forward. Eddie bit his lip subtly as he glanced at the beautiful creature he had in his van. Chrissy Cunningham was actually sitting in his van and he was driving her to his place. And that’s when the anxiety really set in. He was driving her to his trailer in a trailer park. Chrissy lived in Loch Nora, the most expensive neighborhood in Hawkins and she was about to step into a whole different world.

Eddie gulped as his hands began to sweat. But he shook it off. Chrissy was cool, so he could be too. “I heard you won your balls in a basket game,” he attempted to start the conversation.

“They did,” Chrissy answered with a calm smile on her face. “As everyone expected of course.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend was happy to score the winning shot.” Eddie grimaced at even thinking of complimenting that controlling prick. How he thought he ruled the school, his whole life served to him on a golden platter. That included the girlfriend package. It infuriated him to see Jason “The Prick” Carver with his arms around Chrissy, strutting down the hallways with a huge smirk on his face. Chrissy never held a smile that big when she walked with him. If anything, the poor thing looked miserable. And there was nothing Eddie could do about it even if that was the case.

“Oh, he didn’t actually,” Chrissy said almost happily.

“Huh?” Eddie glanced at her.

“Jason didn’t win the game for us. It was actually Lucas Sinclair who scored the winning goal. His first time.”

“No shit,” Eddie’s brows shot up so high they disappeared underneath his bangs.

“Yes,” Chrissy giggled. “He was really happy.”

“Well, as it turns out, Erica Sinclair was the one who won our campaign tonight. Scored a 20, can you believe that?”

“What’s a campaign?” Chrissy asked innocently, causing Eddie to almost slap himself. Of course Chrissy had no idea what he was talking about.

“Um, it’s just our D&D club. As the Dungeon Master, or DM, it’s my job to tell the story or referee through the game, challenging the other players until I take them out or if they make it to the end. Erica stepped in to fill Lucas’s place, and she won on her first night and they won.”

“So technically, you lost but they won?” Chrissy asked with a perplexed look on her face. It was adorable.

“Technically, yeah.” Eddie grinned.

“It sounds like a lot of fun.” Chrissy complimented and it wasn’t her fibbing. Basketball she knew everything about. She had to sit through days turned to weeks of Jason going on and on about that sport to the point Chrissy feared she would throw herself into oncoming traffic. But talking about something new and refreshing, a board game of all things was like a breath of fresh air.

Chrissy was prepared to have Eddie explain it to him more before he stomped on the brakes. She grunted softly before the sound of cassette tape cases hit the ground. She leaned to the side immediately to pick them up off the ground. There were four in total that had fallen from the drink holders below the radio, and her eyes widened at the titles she was reading. She read Metallica, Iron Maiden, Dio and Black Sabbath. The covers of each album were new and a little jarring for her taste, but her curiosity was peaked.

“Not your taste, huh?” Eddie teased as he began to drive again.

“Oh,” Chrissy looked at him with wide eyes. “Well, I- no I, I just never heard of these bands before.”

“What?” Eddie glanced at her with wide eyes but his grin was prominent. “Wait, let me guess, you’re an ABBA fan.”

“Maybe,” Chrissy blushed as she gingerly set the tapes down in positions where they wouldn’t fall again. “So what? There’s nothing wrong with ABBA.”

“Oh!” Eddie’s right hand slammed dramatically over his heart. “Oh! Oh my heart! I’m having a heart attack! My heart is giving out for ABBA is not real music! Oh, the HORROR!”

“Eddie!” Chrissy laughed as she playfully slapped his arm.

“Let me guess some more,” Eddie pointed a finger at her. “Madonna, Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson-”

“Well of course Michael Jackson!” Chrissy giggled. “What makes Metallica or Black Sabbath any better?” Her cheeks reddened as Eddie sent her a cheeky but warning grin.

“You’re playing with fire, Chrissy Cunningham,” he warned. “You’re opening a door you do not want to be opening.”

“We’ll see about that, Eddie Munson.”

Chrissy raised her chin proudly just as they pulled into the Forest Hills Trailer Park. Nighttime made everything look peaceful as they drove past some trailers with the warm lighting emanating from inside some windows. She placed her bag in her lap as Eddie made the move to pull into the trailer which was presumably his home. It seemed to be a regular trailer with a porch and a hangover for rain. A few lights were on despite no cars in the little driveway. It seemed normal.

Chrissy couldn’t help but take in how nervous Eddie suddenly became. How he fumbled with his keys and seatbelt. She didn’t speak as she undid her own seatbelt, gathering her bag in her arms. She waited for Eddie to open his door first and she followed suit.

“This is, uh, my castle,” Eddie held out his arms like an open invitation as Chrissy approached with her bag.

Chrissy smiled at him as he made his way up the steps to unlock the door. She looked around in the darkness around her, the late spring evening sending a chill down her spine. She rubbed her arms, her stomach suddenly dropping in realization of where she was and why she was there. She now looked around her with wide eyes, biting her lip before she turned back to where Eddie was standing. He had the door open for her with one of his inviting smiles and she quickly returned it.

Inside the trailer was very warm. Invitingly warm. There were two lights on in the kitchen to her right as she entered with two other lights on in the living room she was standing in. It was a standard trailer, nothing special stuck out except the many ball caps and mugs hanging up on the walls. She stopped in the middle of the living room to admire the decorated walls curiously as Eddie closed the door. She jumped to see he was suddenly in a frenzy, hurrying to grab empty beer cans and fast food wrappers.

“Sorry for the mess,” Eddie said as he gathered all the trash he could and took it all to the kitchen. “Uh, the maid took the week off.”

“It’s okay, Eddie,” Chrissy said sweetly, feeling flattered that he wanted the place to look nice for her. She went back to admire the trailer she was standing in. “Do you live here alone?”

“With my uncle. But, uh, he works nights at the plant. Bringing home the big bucks.” Eddie joked. He was in the kitchen now, going through random cupboards and drawers, obviously looking for something. And Chrissy had an idea what.

“How long does it take?” Chrissy blurted without thinking.

“Sorry?” Eddie looked at her as he closed the current drawer he was trifling through.

“The Special K,” Chrissy swallowed. “How long to kick in?”

Her voice suddenly sounded small. The good cheery attitude and atmosphere their teasing conversation had created was long gone as the reality seeped back in through the cracks. Eddie had been a huge help through her stress, but now that she was moments away from getting what she needed, she just wanted it done with.

“Oh, uh, well, it depends if you snort it or not.” Eddie explained as he crouched down to look through the bottom drawers. “Uh, if you do, then, uh, yeah. It'll, uh, kick in pretty quick.” He sighed his search was unsuccessful. “Oh, shit.” He mumbled as he closed the cabinet.

“You’re sure you have it?” Chrissy asked. She had to hold herself back from being so rude and demanding, but the deafening silence around her was beginning to suffocate her.

“No, no, I got it. Um, somewhere. Uh . . .” Eddie was dismissive of her hurriedness as he made the move to go down the small hallway. But he suddenly stopped, quickly backtracking and he smiled at her. “You uh, you can make yourself at home.” He offered. “You can sit on the couch. You can listen to the radio if you want. And there’s uh, water bottles in the fridge if you’re thirsty.”

Chrissy bit her lip in a failed attempt to stop her cheeks from blushing. “Thank you, Eddie.” She said softly. Eddie smiled awkwardly, his hair bouncing with the nods of his head before he disappeared down the hallway. Chrissy stood there for a moment, listening for him. She frowned when he seemed to greet something or someone with the word “sweetheart” and made the comment of being “beautiful”. Maybe he was greeting a picture of someone. Girlfriend maybe? Chrissy’s face grew embarrassingly red at the thought of Eddie having a girlfriend. Eddie . . . with a girlfriend? She would think she would know something like that. But maybe not. If Eddie had a girlfriend why would he want anyone to know, especially with how everyone judges and treats him? She wouldn’t blame him for keeping his lovelife a secret.

Chrissy sighed softly, finally deciding to walk toward the couch. She set her bag down with a thump before plopping down onto the couch. It was comfy, sinking right down into it with a content sigh. The trailer was actually very comforting, Chrissy slowly began to realize. It was warm and actually felt and looked like people lived there while her home felt like a cold, open art museum. Four people lived in her large home in Loch Nora while two people lived there in a trailer and felt much more like a home.

Chrissy sat there for what felt like forever, the warm glow of the trailer lulling her into a sense of security. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, forgetting about her eyeshadow as she found herself leaning toward her left until her head rested on the arm of the couch. There she found herself closing her eyes, the heavy weight of stress and exhaustion melting away.

“Chrissy.”

Her eyes snapped open to see the empty living room, but the warmth was gone. She sat up from the couch immediately but there was no sign of Eddie. There was only something more horrifying.

“Chrissy.” The chilly sensation crawled up her back and she whimpered. “Chrissy.”

“Eddie?” Chrissy immediately got to her feet. She was close to tears within seconds, wringing her hands desperately as she waited for a response. “Eddie, did you find it?”

Her heart crawled up her throat as Eddie didn’t respond. Gathering up her courage, Chrissy began to venture through the kitchen and into the small hallway leading to Eddie’s room. Because where else would he be? He wouldn’t leave her alone in his own home. Would he?

“Eddie?” Chrissy whimpered as she approached the bedroom door. It was cracked open just a bit, with a familiar sound emanating from inside. A sound of a machine that Chrissy doubted with all her being that Eddie would have in his bedroom. “Eddie? Eddie?”

Chrissy held her breath as she reached out and slowly pushed the door open. Her eyes widened to see her mother sitting with her back to her, a white fabric sitting on the table of her mother’s sewing machine. Maybe she was hemming one of her favorite summer dresses, one that used to be her favorite.

“Mom?” Chrissy whimpered. She began to sweat, her hands shaking in complete confusion of what was happening to her.

“Just loosening this up for you, sweetheart.” Her mother said in a soothing voice. “You're going to look . . . absolutely beautiful.”

Chrissy’s eyes widened in terror as a creature taking the form of her mother turned to look her in the eye. Her skin was aging and wrinkling more than she last saw her, her teeth sharpened with her eyes milky white. Dead. It was clear that was not her mother. At least not all of her.

Chrissy didn’t hesitate to grab the door and pulled it toward her. She screamed as her “mother” attempted to pull the door open from the other side violently.

“Chrissy!” Her “mother” screamed on the other side.

“No!” Chrissy screamed and began to cry desperately on the other side. She could almost feel her arms snapping off her body as she tried to keep the door closed.

“Chrissy, open this door! Open this door now!”

“No!”

“Let go! Let go! Chrissy!”

Chrissy screamed as she finally managed to shut the door and it remained shut. She stepped back as violent pounding and the screaming of harsh words were still bombarded toward her on the other side. She turned around and froze to see she was standing at the top of the stairs of her home. The lights around her were severely dimmed, almost mocking the warm light she enjoyed in Eddie’s trailer.

“Help!” Chrissy began to scream as she made her way downstairs. Heavy tears of absolute panic and terror oozed through her body, almost fueling her with enough energy to keep finding a way out. “Help! Somebody help me!”

She stopped at the end of the stairs to see the doors and windows leading outside were boarded up.

“Eddie?!” She screamed desperately now. “Eddie?! Eddie, where are you?!”

But there was no answer. She looked desperately through the rooms of presumably her house. Everything was just like home, and yet everything felt different. The lights flickered as Chrissy made her way toward the living room where her father would sit and read with the radio playing classical music. She stood there to see the top of her father’s head sitting in his chair and she exhaled with relief.

“Dad,” Chrissy whimpered as she hurried over to the chair. “Daddy-”

But Chrissy stopped as a figure of her father turned around, and she screamed. Her father’s eyes and mouth were sewn shut, trying to scream and shout at her. Chrissy screamed like a maniac, backing away as her father struggled in his chair. She held her mouth as she sobbed before heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Chrissy held her breath as the figure of Jason came into view. He looked the same as her mother, eyes milky white, wrinkling, decaying skin. But no sharp teeth came with his sickening grin.

“Don’t be scared, Chrissy,” Jason’s voice echoed upon layers of itself as he crept closer to her. Chrissy whimpered, backing up as he walked closer. “I’m here for you. I’m gonna be here for you forever. Us, together forever.”

Chrissy darted desperately to her right. She ran for the stairs only to be blocked by her mother. Her eyes widened in further horror to see her mother was holding up a wedding dress. A very small, thin wedding dress.

“I had this hemmed for you, sweetie,” her mother smiled a sharp-toothed grin. “Jason is going to love this on you.”

“NO!” Chrissy screamed before running down the hallway. “NO! GO AWAY!”

“Chrissy!” Chrissy stopped so fast she nearly tripped over herself in shock. Eddie. It was Eddie’s voice. He was yelling her name. “Chrissy!”

“Eddie?!” Chrissy screamed desperately, looking around the hellway.

“Wake up!” Eddie screamed in what sounded like panic. Just as panicked as she was. “Hello?! Can you hear me?!”

“I’m here!” Chrissy cried desperately. “Eddie, I’m in here!”

Chrissy ran to the dining room and froze to see the whole room covered in streamers and celebration decorations. But on the table was food; rotten, old food and cake covered in maggots and mealworms. Chrissy’s stomach almost heaved at the sight in front of her, reaching up to cover her mouth and nose.

“You can’t eat those, Chrissy,” her mother appeared at her side. Chrissy screamed and backed away with heavy sobs. “You don’t want Jason to think you’re a pig do you? Your dress has to fit.”

“Wake up, Chrissy!” Eddie’s voice screamed desperately toward her again; somewhere where Chrissy couldn’t see. “Chrissy, wake up! I don’t like this, Chrissy, wake up!”

“Eddie, help me,” Chrissy sobbed as she tried to back away from her mother who continued to follow her. “Please-”

“You’re going to listen to me, Chrissy!” Her mother screamed at her. “You’re going to be a good wife to Jason! Do you understand?!” Chrissy screamed as her mother reached and grabbed her by her neck with a firm squeeze. “Do you understand me?!”

“Chrissy, wake up now! Chrissy!”

“NO!” Chrissy thrashed and punched her way back into sitting up. Her tiny, weak fists hit something solid before two firm grips grabbed her wrists, which only caused her to panic even more.

“Chrissy, stop, stop!” The sound of Eddie’s voice was crystal clear. “You’re okay! You’re okay, Chrissy, wake up!”

Chrissy finally opened her eyes with a strangled gasp to see nothing but Eddie’s face. He was pale, his eyes wide and absolutely terrified as he held her hands in his. Most likely to stop her from hitting him and thrashing around. It must have been his chest Chrissy was hitting and punching. Very weakly, but still, she hit him. He was leaning over her before leaning back as she sat up from the couch where she had sat down seconds ago. She was still there. On Eddie’s couch in his trailer.

All color drained from Chrissy’s face, waterfalls of tears falling down her drenched cheeks. Her throat felt sore and closed up, her whole body shaking and trembling uncontrollably. Her limbs seemed to be experiencing convulsions from the fear that wracked her body. Was it a dream? Did it really happen? Chrissy’s mind went back to the bathroom that day in school, and she let out another sob. It had to have been real. It was too real to not be anything but that.

“Chrissy,” Eddie’s voice pulled her back. She looked at him to see his own hands shaking as he continued to hold her wrists. “Christ, Chrissy, are you okay?” His voice shook in no doubt the stress and fear she had just put him through.

“Ed-Eddie,” Chrissy’s own voice croaked and shook. She looked around her as she tried to catch her breath. “Eddie what-what happened?”

“What do you mean what happened?” Eddie demanded softly. “You were dreaming. You were flipping out.”

“Dreaming? Flipping out?”

“Uh, yeah.” Eddie bobbed his head with his eyes nearly popping out of his head. “I heard you call my name. I came in here to see you asleep on the couch having a nightmare.”

“No,” Chrissy looked at him with wide eyes. Eddie leaned back as Chrissy leapt from the couch and rushed down the hallway.

“Chrissy-”

“No, I didn’t fall asleep,” Chrissy sobbed to see the trailer as normal as normal could be. “All-All I did was lay my head down I-I didn’t fall asleep, Eddie.”

“You were asleep, Chrissy.” Eddie held up his hands as he gingerly approached. “I swear I was trying everything I could to wake you up.”

“But I-I saw-” Chrissy looked toward his bedroom and cried to see nothing there. “No. No no no, this can’t be happening. This can’t be happening to me.”

“Chrissy-” Eddie tried to walk closer.

“I’m not crazy.” Chrissy began to sob heavily. Uncontrollably. “Oh God. Oh my God, please I-I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy, Eddie, please believe me.”

“I believe you. I believe you, Chrissy,” Eddie sounded helpless, not sure of himself as he tried to gather her in his arms. He didn’t know what to do. What could he do? “I believe you. Come on, come sit down.”

“It was so real,” Chrissy cried but allowed Eddie to lead her back to the couch. “It was so real Eddie I-I couldn’t escape.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie sat her down on the couch, rubbing her back in a comforting motion. “Let me get you some water.”

“No!” Chrissy snatched his hand immediately. She stared up at him with wide, red and watery eyes. No doubt her eyeliner and eyeshadow streaming and running down her cheeks. But that was the least of her worries at the moment. “Please don’t go, Eddie!” She begged again. “Please don’t leave me alone!”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie sat back down beside her. The way she clung to him with such an intense grip, he was actually reconsidering going only three feet away into the kitchen. She was absolutely petrified.

“Don’t leave, Eddie!” Chrissy begged, squeezing his hand, ignoring his metal rings digging into her skin.

“I’m not leaving, Princess,” Eddie tried his best to reassure her through his own fear. The way Chrissy was laying there, screaming at the top of her lungs, crying in her sleep scared the shit out of him. Especially when he failed to wake her up. And seeing her awake now wasn’t helping. But he had to get over his fear. She was far more scared than he was. Whatever she had dreamed about scared her so much she couldn’t bear for Eddie to walk three feet away.

“I’m just gonna get you some water,” Eddie tried again. “I’m not going far. I’m just gonna go into the kitchen right there, okay? You’ll be able to see me the whole time.”

Chrissy was silent for a moment, taking in what he had said. She looked over his shoulder to see she could see the kitchen, and she gulped down the dryness of her throat. “Promise?” She whimpered.

“Cross my heart,” Eddie made the motion while also leaving out the “hope to die” part. It didn’t seem appropriate. Even for him.

Chrissy reluctantly released Eddie’s hand, allowing him to stand and hurry to the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around her torso, refusing to close her eyes, fearing what she would see. She began to rock back and forth in a desperate act to relax herself. She reached up to rub her eyes only to smear her makeup even worse than it was. She looked down at her sweater sleeves and whimpered to see makeup staining the white cotton. She reached up to wipe tears from her cheeks that hadn’t failed to cease, and she cried.

“Chrissy, Chrissy hey,” Eddie hurried back over. “Hey relax, relax, let me.”

Chrissy watched Eddie as he pulled the black bandana from his pocket. He unscrewed the cool bottle of water, placing the bandana on top before tipping it upside to wet it.

“Here, you drink that,” Eddie gently handed her the bottle.

Chrissy obeyed, bringing the bottle to her lips and gulped the water down a good four times. She pulled away to allow Eddie to gently dab and rub the top of her eyes with the wet bandana. She didn’t move, wringing and squeezing her eyes shut at Eddie’s gentle dabbing and wiping. He eventually pulled his hand away to allow her to take another drink.

“Do you uh . . . want to talk about it?” Eddie eventually asked in the softest tone he could muster. He sat there silently and patiently, waiting for Chrissy to respond in any way that she wanted. He watched her sit there for a moment, holding the cold bottle of water in her hand with a shaking hand.

“I don’t-” Chrissy hiccuped and rubbed her eyes. “It was-it was just a nightmare. You said I-I was asleep so-so it was just a nightmare.” She sniffled and rubbed her eyes some more.

Chrissy couldn’t imagine what Eddie would do if she told him what she had been seeing. How she was seeing things that weren’t there, reminding her of the moment in the bathroom where her “mother” was screaming at her from the other side. But she wasn’t really there. There was no one really there. It was all in her head. She knew Eddie would just call up and have her committed, sent far away to a place for the insane, never to come out again, and she shivered.

“It was just a dream,” Chrissy repeated, shakily reaching up to move her bangs from her eyes. “I-I’m sorry for scaring you Eddie, but you-you were right. It was just a dream.” She sniffled.

“Are you sure?” Eddie’s eyes were still wide and frightened. He hadn’t let go of her right hand, fearing if he did she would have another episode. Not that he helped at all to begin with. He couldn’t even wake her up from it.

“Yeah I’m sure.” Chrissy nodded with a weak smile.

Eddie didn’t smile, knowing there was something she wasn’t telling him. But not wanting to upset her more than she already was, Eddie respected her wishes and didn’t ask any more questions about it. “Well, Chrissy you-you know that I can’t give you the Special K now, right?” He said gingerly.

“What?” Chrissy’s red glassy eyes widened once more. “No no no Eddie please you-you have to, you have to give it to me.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“Eddie please,” Chrissy’s voice cracked as fresh hot tears pooled in her eyes. “Please, you have to give me something. Anything. I need help. Please. Please help me.”

Chrissy didn’t remember the last time she pleaded for anything. Maybe when she was little and begging her mother for an ice cream cone. Maybe for the latest Barbie doll in Toys R Us. But she never thought she would almost crumble to her knees to beg Eddie Munson for drugs. That’s when she found herself crumbling to the floor, ignoring the heavy impact when her butt landed on the carpeted floor. She cried as she managed to get her knees under her, trying to ground herself and failing spectacularly.

“You’re the only one who can help me.” Chrissy sobbed, her shoulders moving up and down from the impact of her tears.

“Chrissy, Chrissy, stop,” Eddie hurried down on his knees to take her hands into his. He leaned his head down to look her in the eye. “I-I only said I can’t give you the Special K. The Special K.” He reached out to carefully place his hand on her arm. “I didn’t say the marijuana.”

Chrissy was silent for a moment, her tears ceasing for the briefest of moments. She lifted her head, her cheeks, lips and nostrils slathered in loose tears. Her eyes were red and puffy from the endless crying and exhaustion, and it broke Eddie’s heart. He never pictured nor imagined Chrissy Cunningham acting like what he had witnessed; so stretched out on her knees as she sobbed.

“What?” She whispered, trying to maintain eye contact with him.

“I can’t give you the Special K, I-I don’t really feel comfortable with it,” Eddie gingerly helped her stand and set her back down onto the couch. “But with the right amount, the marijuana should help you a lot, you know? It helps you relax and sleep faster.”

“Will-Will you show me how?” Chrissy sniffled.

“Yeah of course,” Eddie tried to grin to ease her further. “That’s why you’re here right? To learn from the professional.”

Chrissy finally managed a smile, reaching up with a shaking hand to wipe her nose and her eyes. She reached and drank from the bottle of water as Eddie rushed off to get what he needed. He sat back down and step by step he showed her how to roll the drug, sealing the roll and lighting it. She took a deep breath as she allowed Eddie to hold her hand to guide the roll to her lips, and the world was eventually taken out of the world.

#Eddie Munson #Chrissy Cunningham #Eddie and Chrissy deserved better #Eddissy #Hellcheer #stranger things #no vecna #bad dreams #love #comfort #hallucinations #i will die with this ship

[sweetsweetjellybean]

This one's for you @boomhauer

Black

Eddie Munson x FemReader Inspired by Black by Pearl Jam

TW: Very Dark. Tiny itty bitty baby smut. Selfharm, violence, death, & just over all angst and sadness.

Special thanks to @loveshotzz for keeping me off the ledge

>>>>

The sky is streaked with the pink and orange of the setting sun as you turn your car's wheels off the pavement to the dirt and gravel road that leads to the old warehouse that serves as your studio. Your gloved hand stabs the key in the lock, and the rusty metal door groans as you force it open. The lights come on with a thud after you flip the switch just inside the doorway. You remove all your clothes except your velvet opera gloves before selecting one of Eddie's shirts that hang on a metal clothing rack. Slipping it over your head, you tie up your hair before moving further into the nearly empty space. The swinging lights above create shadows that move back and forth slowly over the blank canvas in the center of the room. Your toes dig into the softness of the old carpet stained with drops and splatters of dried paint. Patiently you wait for your brain to settle on an image that will soon flow from your fingers, from the brush, from the paint to the canvas recreating the nightmares that still control you. 

The wind moans and whistles as it pushes through the cracks in the drafty walls. The lights flicker, breaking your concentration. The power frequently goes out in the remote building, but when you have nothing to lose, you're not afraid of things that reside in the dark. You peel off your gloves and toss them to the floor before striking a match to light the candles scattered around the room, sitting on top of stacked crates that double as a work surface holding pots of paint and framed photographs of you and Eddie. 

Your agent often bemoans that you choose to work here, offering to set you up in a lovely space in the city. She doesn't understand your need for solitude or why she has to act as a bodyguard at your art exhibitions. Never letting anyone get too close. Answering questions directed to you, like the mother of a shy child. You hate the crowds of people that treat you like a curiosity, the fragile, mentally ill girl that hides her hands and creates dark otherworldly paintings. But these remoras pay top dollar and come away with a little story of your odd behavior to tell their friends while showing off the art they think owning makes them cool and sophisticated.

The candlelight reflects off the glass covering the photographs. Eddie's face is beautiful and smiling but looking at him triggers the screams in your head. The screams from the day six years ago when you lost him. They are becoming louder and louder. Pressing your hands over your ears, you lie down on the floor and curl into a little ball. Tears stream down your face as you plead for it to stop. Flashes of blood and death fill your mind, you're breathing faster, but the air isn't filling your lungs. Your eyes tunnel, and everything goes black. 

The cold from the concrete floor seeping through the thin rug pulls you back into consciousness. Your eyes blink open, and you sit up, causing your head to spin. The panic attacks happen a few times a week, and no amount of therapy or drugs makes a difference. Anything can trigger them, a child's laughter, the light bouncing off a glass, or a familiar smell. So you live alone, in the silence, in the black, counting the hours until you can join him. Standing, you pick up your brush dipping the soft bristles into the creamy red on your palate before moving it to canvas. Sometimes your fragmented mind will offer a brief reprieve from the horror. You'll blink and suddenly be in that open field, the soft overgrown grass curling around your knees as you sit cross-legged on the ground filling bottles with fuel next to Steve and Robin. Then he's there, his warm, rough hand pulling you up. 

"Cover us for a few minutes, Harrington," he calls back to Steve as he pulls you into the privacy of the woods. The tree bark scrapes your back as he presses against you, his frenzied mouth kissing every part of your face before sealing over your giggling lips. His tongue dips inside, and he hums out his pleasure. 

"I love you. You know that, don't you?" He asks, cradling your face in his hands.

"I do," you reply, trying to chase his lips.

"I hate that you're here. I wish you never got involved. That you were somewhere far away where I knew you were safe." Your hands fist the material of his shirt. "Haven't you figured it out yet? I would walk through hell as long as I was with you." His eyes close, and his lips are back on yours, stealing your breath and making you dizzy. Your fingers start to work open his belt. He lays out the blanket he nicked from the camper and folds his jacket under your head. Two sets of hands push down your jeans, his mouth is on your center, and his eyes never leave yours as he watches you come undone. 

"I love you," you sigh as he pushes inside, filling you up, and you're a stupid, stupid girl taking it for granted, not savoring the last moments you'll ever be complete again.

The brush glides furiously back and forth around the canvas before dipping into the purple, the white, the black. The colors mix to reveal the ugly grim nature of the Upside Down. Your hands are moving of their own accord as your mind slingshots back to when it all went bad and turned your world to black. 

Dustin is still. His head hangs down, hands covering his face. The four of you are running towards him, trying not to slip on the dead bats in your path. It isn't until he sees you and starts limping forward, arms outstretched, yelling, "No. Don't come any closer," that you notice Eddie's body on the ground. A scream rips out of your throat. Dustin's arms clamp around your waist, holding you back. 

"Stop. She doesn't need to see him like this. Steve, help me." But Steve is too shocked to act. The adrenaline courses through you, and you push Dustin as hard as possible, sending him to the ground. He yelps and clutches his already injured ankle. The others stop beside him, trying to find the source of his injury. 

Dropping to your knees, you pull Eddie into your lap, screaming and screaming. His beautiful, burnt-umber eyes are wide open, but the light is gone. The wounds on his chest are trickling blood, and you press hands against them, trying in vain to stop the flow.

"Eddie, wake up. You're okay. You're okay." You cry while your blood-covered hands smear more across his face. Hands cover your biceps from behind and begin to pull you away.

"We have to go."

"No. No. I can't leave him." You try using your body weight to pull out of Steve's hold. 

"He's gone. We can't stay here." The ground shakes under you. The other vine-covered trailers are groaning like they may collapse. He tightens his hold, and you keep screaming, trying to hold on to Eddie as he lifts you from the ground. Eddie's body is too heavy, you're not strong enough, and he slips through your hands back to the cold ground. You fight him. You fight as hard as you can. "Nancy, help me," Steve yells. She moves to your other side and grabs your flailing arm, using it to drag you toward the trailer.

"What's wrong with you? We can't leave him. I want to stay. Eddie!" 

They manage to get you to the trailer. Nancy loses her grip, and you grab hold of the chain link that's installed around the door. "Let go," Steve commands, trying to pull you inside. "I don't want to hurt you. Let go." He rips you away. The chain links jagged metal edges cut into your hands. He picks you up from the middle, forcing you inside. "Let me go," you scream, trying to grab anything you can. Your fingers wedge between the glass slats of the window as he carries you past the door. They crack and shatter, slicing your hands. The shards embed into your skin You squeeze your hands into tight fists, driving the glass deeper, mixing Eddie's blood with yours. Steve sets you down but keeps his hands on your shoulders. "You can't stay. You'll die too." He yells in your face. 

"I want to," you say calmly, dragging the glass stuck in your palms down your forearms to the back of your hands. "Stop it." Steve grabs your hands, trying to hold them away from your body. Nancy and Robin rush back into the room carrying more sheets they knotted together, throwing them through the gate. The boost up Dustin getting him through first. Steve drags you to the opening. "You're going. Climb!" 

"No," you scream, trying to escape. "Please!" Dustin yells from above you. "Please. Do it for him." Eddie's love for Dustin is the only reason you comply. It's the same reason you hate him later. Bitterly, you hate them all. You climb hand over hand, driving the glass deeper. 

Lighting flashes outside, startling you. Your hip bumps into the crate, knocking the photo frame to the floor. The black paint has spilled over the edge dripping onto the picture. A cry leaves your lips, and you dive for the photo. Grabbing a rag, you settle on the floor, wiping off the paint before it works its way under the edges of the protective glass. 

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you take in the terrible beauty you've created on the canvas. Your eyes scan the red clouds. You know he's there. He's always there. It wasn't until your first sold-out show that you noticed him. Walking through the gallery after everyone was gone, taking one last look before your paintings would all be gone. He caught your eye as you walked by, his face staring back at you mixed in with the clouds. You ran from painting to painting, finding him in all of them. If they hadn't already been sold, you would have never parted with them, but maybe that was what is meant to be, him living in someone else's sky, forever leaving you behind. Standing, you move closer to the painting, searching, searching. There he is, you smile, your scared fingers hovering over the wet paint. Now that you've found him, you can let him go until the next time.

Masterlist

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #big sad #fic request #eddie munson stranger things

[strawberryxfieldz]

there are a lot of relationships that are interesting to explore in Welcome Home like Wally and Home, and Frank and Eddie, but by far the most important is Wally and You. And I don't mean you, I mean the collective 'You' (because there is a difference).

so here's my big theory about why You matters and how You can lead to Wally changing his perception on Home:

also: I am posting this right before the update so if anything changes or stuff is added to go along with this I'll add on to it later.

first, this post heavily stems from @/carnivalcarrion's post about Wally and Barnaby's friendship but TL;DR because Barnaby and Wally were made to be friends, Barnaby doesn't have a purpose beyond that, which could put a strain on their "friendship."

anyways, I think a similar point could be made about Wally and You. this has to be the most important relationship in the story since it is implied through the clues on the Website that Wally is trying to communicate with us. it's obvious we have a role in the story as the viewers but I think You is actually a character. the most damning piece of evidence is the hidden page that looks like this:

You are given a bio just like the rest of the neighbors are. that is because You are a part of Welcome Home, especially to Wally who is aware of your existence and talked directly to You during episodes of the show. You are the tenth neighbor to him and thus a character.

plus, there are multiple instances of Wally talking directly to you like "I know you're there," "I can't see you," etc. and as shown above, the only information we know about You is Wally is their best friend. the wording of this is essential. it's not "Wally and You are best friends" or "Your best friend is Wally," it is "Wally is your best friend." it's very one-sided seeming.

but You isn't actually you in the sense you might think. You is a character based on the collective audience--I think of both of the Website and the past audience of the Welcome Home show--and that's the you "Wally knows" ...and Clown has worded it like this multiple times, here, here, and here!

so, Wally doesn't know specific people, not from the audience viewing the Website and the project as a whole now, and assumedly not from the viewers that used to watch the Welcome Home show during its airing. he has a knowledge of a collective audience with only one purpose: he is their best friend, much like how Barnaby was made to be his best friend as well.

I find this post the most important when talking about You, though. Clown answers the question "what would happen if someone stumbled into or got lost and ended up in the Welcome Home neighborhood?" with "You! If they arrived? They’d feel right at Home!" there isn't any confusion or worry, You would feel right at Home, almost like you belong there. (and, I find it funny that Clown labels this random 'someone' as You, even though the question-asker wasn't talking about anyone specific.)

but You isn't a puppet that was made with the sole purpose of being Wally's friend, You is just a collective of people, humans that have lives outside of consuming Welcome Home (in whatever sense that is). but what if Wally doesn't see it that way? I don't think Wally is egotistical in the slightest but his knowledge is very limited, especially about the world outside of Home. from his point of view, Home is everything and thus You are just an extension of Home and they belong in Home, possibly to serve Home the same way he and his neighbors (unknowingly) do.

I think Wally's viewpoint of the world is very cold in this sense. everything is the way that it is because it is supposed to be. assuming he is the only sentient of the puppets (besides Home), he sees his friendships as existing because they are supposed to, people existing to serve their singular purpose, and all of it surrounds him, Home, and the Welcome Home show. this can be quite metaphorical when you take into account that he's a puppet so it only makes sense to live for a specific purpose, having someone pull your strings for you and serving them, and have very little capacity to care about much else.

except something has to resist those ideas because it is a story and there must be conflict. this has already probably taken form with the cancellation of the show which likely broke Wally's ability to communicate with You until the Website. I imagine there will be something else that puts a strain on Wally's relationship with You that puts into perspective for him how You weren't made to serve Home as a puppet for it like he was, or that Wally isn't your best friend, in the way that he says he is.

Clown has said before that Welcome Home is a story about what it's "like to live in a decaying Home" and perhaps this will lead to Wally realizing there is purpose and life outside of Home. I think this could manifest itself in several ways through the story but with Wally and You's relationship being the most important, there will hopefully be a bigger plotpoint surrounding Wally, his ideation of what You are, and what You really are to him and Home.

#is this anything #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home theory #wally darling #I want to make more of these so I'll make a tag for it #wh theories #but that's just a theory. a game theory.

[tenebrius-excellium]

Hi, who would you fancast as Gen, Irene, Sophos and Helen? Also, what would you do if ROTT ever gets a movie adaptation, one depicting the war with the Mede anyway? 🙈 🥺👉👈

Hii!!!! Oh my gosh fancasting Tqt is NOT easy...

...especially since a couple fancasts have already been made that I am SO down to agree with. I hope you'll forgive me if I partly choose people that have already been named within the fandom before...?

[Insert: ARE YOU KIDDING ME YOU MADE ME CREATE WHOLE POWERPOINT PRESENTATIONS FOR THEM I SPENT THE ENTIRE AFTERNOON ON THIS AND I DO NOT REGRET IT]

Eugenides: Luke Pasqualino

Who else. He could pull off Young Gen, King Gen, and God Gen. I love his chill mannerisms and his cheekiness. But whoever has watched BBC's "The Musketeers" knows he can portray a dark, rash and dangerous side as well. The actor has Italian roots btw.

Irene Attolia: Irene Papas

Sadly, this awesome actress died in 2022. She was Greek and played in "The Trojan Women" as well as "Iphigenia" - so, you know, she has the ideal Greek Aristocratic face. Isn't she the perfect Attolia?

Sophos - Christian Martyn

How I found this actor, I don't know. I am not familiar with him, though he played Gilbert Blythe in "Anne with an E". Look. LOOK. Bear with me. He seems innocent, is the definition of too Nice™ and has this precious aura of childlike chaos about him. But he is also able to glow up into a warrior when necessary O_O

Helen Eddis: Nathalie Emmanuel

Okay, look. While I'm personally highly satisfied with the above casts, I know full and well that this one isn't perfect. First of all, Emmanuel is far too thin and pretty to be Eddis. They'd have to change her nose at least, if not give her a rounder body type. But she is dark-skinned, her hair is short, her smile is fun and captivating, and I think this does reflect who Eddis is to some degree. I'm sorry I didn't find anything more accurate.

To comfort you, here are some more random character casts that I found/came up with while working on the others:

King of Sounis - Jack Black

Nahuseresh - Dev Patel. Imagine the reddish beard oh my gosh

Kamet - Riz Ahmed (that one was the author's choice, I believe)

Ambiades - Austin North. Like, come on. He's gotta be the evil version of Sophos and he would be perfect.

Costis - he's honestly just that one real life Kristoff edit from Frozen. No, he's really Channing Tatum in "The Eagle". Look him up.

As for what would happen if The Queen's Thief Series got turned into a movie, I would SCREAM YELL CRY HAPPY TEARS.

They could turn the 6 books into 3 movies, I believe.

The Thief & The Queen of Attolia (the story would have to be slightly changed, e.g. older Gen and different politics, but they can really pull together the whole 125 pages of travelling to the temple into a 5min montage)

The King of Attolia & A Conspiracy of Kings (how Costis became King isn't as important, but it could serve as a sideplot/what Gen is actually contributing politically behind the facade)

Thick as Thieves and Return of the Thief (again, how Kamet came to Attolia isn't as important as the message he brought.)

The Queen's Thief reminds me much of Narnia (the world, the values, the fashion, the colors), Percy Jackson (adventure Greek setting), and Sinbad (adventure + navigating the Gods). If they ever turned that into a movie, I'D WATCH THE HECK OUT OF IT.

Thank you very much for asking!!!

#this helps to get the tqt frenzy out of my system hooooo #tqt #the queen's thief #tqt fandom #the queen's thief fandom #tqt fancast #the queen's thief fancast #ask #asks #wherethekitethought #currymanganese #eugenides #irene attolia #helen eddis #sophos sounis #costis ormentiedes #luke pasqualino #irene papas #nathalie emmanuel #christian martyn

[cringengl]

I honestly doubt that anyone in Stranger Things is going to have a 'tragic' ending (especially Will).

Stranger Things as a TV show is all about themes of friendship, family, hope, overcoming impossible odds and being your own person despite everyone calling you a 'freak'.

When I see posts about which characters are going to die and which stories are going to end in tragedy, I really do doubt that they are going to happen, especially if their death would be just to be 'realistic'. It would honestly go against the core themes of Stranger Things and would reinforce the idea that going against societal norms should be and will be punished (such as Will being gay, in love with his best friend and just being 'different' in general).

Stranger Things, isn't trying to be a 'realistic' show in terms of being pessimistic about the state of America in the 80s, it's instead trying to promote hope and defying awful circumstances.

But but but what about Barb, Bob, Billy and Eddie, they all had tragic deaths??

Honestly, I wouldn't call their deaths tragic, just sad, since they all have a purpose and Bob and Eddie even get to finish their character arcs with their deaths.

Barb- Barb's death is arguably the most tragic. She didn't know anything about the UD and had no idea how dangerous bleeding by the pool was. However, her death shows to Nancy how she doesn't want to be Steve's girlfriend and that ultimately Barb was right- she wasn't being herself. Barb's death also leads to the closing down of Hawkins laboratory, meaning that Nancy and Barb's family do get closure.

Bob- Bob spends lots of season 2 being insecure in himself and jealous of Hopper since he's so strong. However, Bob gets to be a superhero in his own right by solving what Will has drawn and then successfully getting them out of the lab, therefore concluding his character arc. His death is also one of the main obstacles in Joyce putting space between her and Hopper, a major s3 plot point and development in Jopper's relationship.

Billy- Billy's life is tragic, not his death. His death is the one part of agency he gets after being possessed by the Mind Flayer- which is actually more triumphant. His character arc is finished by him finally doing one good thing, sacrificing himself, instead of being the mouth breather he has been since he was introduced in s2. His death also serves as a major plot point for s4 due to its impact on Max.

Eddie- Eddie's death is extremely similar to Bob's in the way that it is established at the beginning of the season that Eddie is upset that he only runs away, but at the end he doesn't run away and fights the demobats to defeat Vecna, therefore showing his character development and concluding his arc. Although s5 hasn't released yet, I have no doubt that his death will have a major impact on characters such as Dustin, just like every other character death has (especially the ones that happen at the end of a season).

Two things that these characters have in common is that their deaths all had a major impact in the season after (there will be no season after s5) and that 3/4 were introduced in the same season that they died (Billy died in the season after he was introduced).

Finally, here's this quote from Finn Wolfhard (look at the the 2nd paragraph specifically):

(From here: https://www.gamesradar.com/stranger-things-season-5-finn-wolfhard-will-and-mike-future/)

Therefore, Will isn't dying and none of the main characters are going to die tragically either (not saying that none of them will die- they probably will, it just isn't going to be in a way that is depressing and takes away from their characters).

#i am so sick of the will is going to die allegations #he is not #if he does the duffers r just bad writers idc #ALSO SO SICK OF SAYING THAT WILL ENDING UP SAD WOULD BE REALSTIC #thats just not what stranger things as a show is about lol #byler #stranger things #will byers #stranger things s5

[matan4il]

I think one of my favorite things about Buddie is how Eddie has to tease him. He's literally the definition of pulling a pony tale. But especially when he is being vulnerable like the skateboard talk. Like I'm baring my soul but also your immature Buck said with love. And the way Buck always just smiles and let's him do it. Also interesting how you made me remember he had that Jim Abbott story in his back pocket like he knew one day he would need it.

It reminds me of Treasure Hunt though because I remember watching that live when I had an ohhh moment about him and the fact he was genuinely bummed Buck wouldn't choose him to "pal around with" in hindsight it was that episode that I don't know marked the way the writers altered their behavior towards each other. Even that small scene when they walk into the party and I never realized how much Eddie seemed to be stealing himself to walk in.

I honestly hope I'm not over romanticizing the direction but it really does feel like choices were made. Especially in having them not share spaces in their homes till the end of 5b.

Hi Nonnie!

OMG, yes! So much this. I wrote in the past about how their dynamic is so often that Eddie teases and Buck responds with quiet heart eyes. On some level, I'm sure he gets that this IS Eddie pulling his pony tail, trying to show his affection by showering Buck with his attention. Eddie teases Buck in a way that he doesn't tease any of his other teammates, this isn't platonic colleagues-and-friends behavior, this is something uniquely reserved for Buck, and even if Buck doesn't have a grasp on exactly what it means, on some level he knows he's the center of Eddie's attention, and I think he secretly thrives on it, 'coz he can feel the underlying love.

Oh yeah! I can't remember where it was that I wrote something about this, I thought it was in the 312 meta, but apparently not... Though funnily enough, you can see that at the end of 312, I already pointed out that the whole way Buck and Ana are juxtaposed shows him as the better suited partner for Eddie. Anyway, somewhere (maybe an ask reply?) I know I wrote that Buck might have actually picked up the book about Jim Abbott with the intention of not only inspiring himself to overcome his injury from the bomb, but also to have something to help them handle challenges that might come up with Chris. What I mean is, I could see himself picking Abbott's book to read with Chris being present somewhere in the back of his mind. So of course he kept that info there for a rainy day, when they would need it. Because he's Christopher's other dad, simple as.

Without a doubt, 412 was a moment when Eddie was non-verbally expressing his disappointment to discover that his battlefield boyfriend was... playing in other fields. But honestly, he’s so adorable in how he expresses it? Almost like he’s trying to shrug it off, but he can’t quite do that? But he also doesn’t look full on crushed, so it’s as if on some level, he knows this can’t be right, the universe has just served out of its lane for a second, but it would correct itself in a moment. Which is EXACTLY what happens. And it happens BECAUSE Buck could clearly see Eddie’s disappointment. THEY ARE husbands. THEY ARE soulmates. THEY ARE linked at their very core. I AM... And yes, Eddie did ready himself for the welcome home party in 414. I don’t think he likes being the center of attention, and I also imagine that returning from the hospital, knowing Ana would be there, wasn’t fun for him. So it’s extra significant that he still ends up looking overjoyed. When? When the frame captures him with Chris, and Buck, who was right by Eddie’s side when he was mentally readying himself for this, Buck who’s looking at the two of them and is bursting at the seams with joy. In what world are they not a family? I think the point is that whether Buddie ever goes canon or not, they ARE a family, and they ARE soulmates, and they SHOULD be together. And writer worth anything would let the buildup progress to its natural conclusion, meaning Buddie SHOULD go canon. You’re not over romanticizing anything, Nonnie.

Hope you have a good day and thank you so much for this ask! xoxox

(If you're looking for my ask replies, here is my ask tag! xoxox)

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #evan buck buckley #christopher diaz #anti-eddieana #ask #anon ask #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

[mouseratz]

silent Hill 2 thoughts (please no spoilers I just got to an important part with maria/around 3f of the Brookhaven hospital):

- this is a very fun game similar to the first entry and already has a stronger story than game one.

- it is, however, far more sexual/has sexual overtones, so like, don't play this one on a big screen around kids. not that most people do with horror games anyway, but I was a kid who grew up watching horror movies and my family play other horror games (like some of the resident evils) and this would've been too much for me. I think it serves a narrative purpose though & is presented really weirdly/interestingly so this isn't a criticism, just like, if you haven't played it, now you know.

- PS3 version is far buggier than the PS1 silent Hill one, which I find funny, but whatever, I'm gonna play the one I've got, you know. (I've also heard this was due to a lot of development shenanigans, including the studio they had revising the game losing the original build of the PS2 version, but man, it doesn't just look a little worse, this game has crashed on me like twice lmao.)

- the graphics aren't terrible, they certainly don't look better than the PS2 version but are at least comparable.....but even then, neither really match up to the stunning quality of the first game. It still has a lovely and creepy atmosphere, but very genuinely, I can see too much. I don't actually want to see the character's facial expressions, as uncanny as they may be- there was something eerie and charming about the PS1 blurred, smushed-up faces, sharp angles, and dark corners of the world.

- the soundtrack however IS an improvement, building on what works while delivering it through not-ps1 hardware, the haunting melodies and tense ambiences are better than ever.

- most of what I have bad to say about it are simply visual preference or complaints about the specific version I have (the PS3 version also just has shitty load times overall, like traversing the world literally feels like it takes longer in this one than the PS1 game. wtf)

- I do have at least one story nitpick though: I don't care what you have to say about all of the characters being flawed/morally grey, the only fat character (Eddie) being associated with food and emetophobia related horrors is fucked up. he's also depicted as fairly stupid & incurious, in addition to being the star of the few unironically "comedic" moments I've encountered in the game so far. this hardly ruins the game by any stretch but it is something I don't like about it.

- I also ......really like most of the enemy designs but they aren't as scary to me. Idk if it's because I just got used to the design sensibilities of this series or because I can see them better/another visual preference or because they're just not as scary so far. idk. Pyramid head guy IS scary, but not because of how he looks- he may as well be a horny cosplayer from a series I've never heard of. I could see this guy on tiktok. I'm sorry. what's scary about him is the way he moves and how differently he behaves from the other monsters, and how he always seems to be either lurking behind you or one step ahead of you. he kind of just looks like a guy in a funny outfit to me.....maybe it's just because we live in the age of internet horror & this game was likely inspirational to many people, so I'm just kind of, already "oh okay" about seeing that type of guy....

-i don't want anyone to take away "oh mouse HATES silent Hill 2" nooo Im still loving it Im just having a different experience than with the first one. if anything, this game is more compelling story wise AND more player friendly (other than the bugs....but I assume the PS2 original lacks most of whats gone on here). I just really like crunchy and obtuse visuals and I'm coping with the loss of them. why can I see James's face. This is a crime

#silent hill

[spreadssheets]

Steddie Guide: A (Study) Guide for Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson Fanfiction (Part 2)

Okay I'm back with PART TWO of this Steddie Guide. If you'd like to read PART ONE, please click here. You can also view all of these in an airtable (as one part).

Again, just reiterating that this guide is LONG and I've been working on it for over a year. If I'm missing some of your favourites please understand that I follow a stict criteria for guides. I don't read anything with less than 10k or more than 500k. I ONLY read complete works (this includes series). And for this guide specifically, I didn't include fics with Billy Hargrove in them and didn't read many Modern AUs.

Without futher ado, here's the second part.

BEST OF AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES

Doing Nothing With You

by redoaktree | Rated M | 106,402

Steve and Robin get a two bedroom in Hawkins. It's perfect, except for all the ways it isn't. Drafty windows, clogged drains, shitty landlord. But it's got a couch. A couch that's often occupied by Eddie Munson. Home isn't really the kind of thing Eddie has much of anymore, ever since his trailer became the primary source for all his nightmares. Luckily, he knows of a semi-comfortable couch where he's always welcome.

Despite all it's problem, the house has perks. Primarily, it's somewhere Steve can actually call home. Secondarily, it's somewhere he can share with the people he loves.

AKA: The fruity four live in a convoluted roommate situation, and romance happens along the way.

Bookmark Comments: No notes.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 slow burns that ruined my life 𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 best of the best slow burns 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 100k+

-

BEST OF VOL 4 (and 5?) REWRITES

Sanctuary

by SpicedSage | Rated E | 47,584

After Steve Harrington goes missing, Eddie Munson gets exposed to the secret dangers of Hawkins, Indiana in 1985 instead of 1986.

Will a different first meeting lead to a change in his fate?

Bookmark Comments: How can something be so horny and so soft at the same time? God I love dirty talk. Why am I always the Steve in every scenario sfjsdlk (bc i’m stupid and submissive lbr)

Bookmark tags

𝗑 steddie guide to being super horny but also like in love and shit 𝗑 Domestic 𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 Kink 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 25k+

Not Fade Away (A Cover)

by dorcas_gustine | Rated E | 37,591

Vecna is dead, Eddie is cleared of all charges, Robin shakes on a bet and Steve Harrington has got game.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: This is what I imagine it's like to be loved.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Found Family 𝗑 Vol 4 Rewrite 𝗑 this is the canon ending if you ask me 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 25k+

Just a rhyme without a reason

by doriangrayscale | Rated M | 78,139

The mall is destroyed. El’s lost her powers. Billy’s dead. So is Hopper. Steve is probably fucked up mentally for life, but what else is new? Steve has a pretty good thing going. He has kids to take care of, an awkward lesbian to advise. Max needs a big brother. Hawkins is his home, and Steve can’t just leave. Not while he’s still needed. He knows one day he won’t be. But for now, it’s enough.

Or: the Harringtons sell their house before the real estate market goes belly-up. Hawkins has been going downhill for years, anyway. His parents give Steve a choice: move with them and finally take that job at his dad’s company or get left behind. For Steve, it wasn’t much of a choice at all. He may not have a house anymore, but his BMW’s backseat has served as a bed plenty of times already. No one has to know. The party has enough problems to worry about.

Or: Eddie Munson worms his way into Steve’s sorry little life months before Vecna rears his ugly head.

Or: Steve Harrington, a character study.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 7/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: What do you mean this isn't how series 4 went? Fuck off.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Found Family 𝗑 Vol 4 Rewrite 𝗑 Steve and Eddie fall in love before series 4 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 75k+

Weakened Like Achilles, with You Always at My Heels

by HMSLusitania | Rated M | 53,696

The graduating classes of 1985 and 1986 invite YOU back to West Hawkins! Welcome reception Friday, May 24th at 7:30pm. School and town tour to follow on Saturday morning. Memorial service Sunday. * If you are a graduate of the class of 1985 and need driving directions to West Hawkins, please RSVP * Due to current government restrictions, we are not currently able to offer a site visit to the Hawkins Exclusion Zone -- Steve Harrington goes home for his ten (well, eleven) year reunion with a nagging secret that's slowly ruining his life.

In the ten years between, he finds the family he always wanted and, unfortunately, the person he wanted to share it with.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: If this isn't how series 5 goes i will actually riot.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Stranger Things Vol 5 Canon Fuck Off 𝗑 Stranger Things Fix-Its 𝗑 Found Family 𝗑 Falling in love with a ghost…sorta 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 50k+

-

BEST OF SLOW BURNS & ROMANCE STORIES

Fade Into You

by annabeeus | Rated M | 52,204

Steve Harrington doesn't need help. He just needs to get through this summer without completely falling apart. Unfortunately, it seems like Eddie Munson has other ideas.

(or: the one where they fall in love with each other, bit by little bit)

Bookmark Comments: Goddddd of all the fics with domestic fluff and slow burns this is the only one that Gets It djfjdjjf

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Domestic 𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 Stranger Things AUs Done Right 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 50k+

The Worst Mixtape Ever Made

by nbfutureboy | Rated M | 17,999

“It’s a gift, so you gotta listen to the whole thing, okay? I think-- I think it’s got what it takes.”

There’s an art to making a mixtape - and Steve Harrington has decidedly ignored all semblance of art in creating a mixtape for Eddie Munson. Too bad Eddie’s fascinated with how impressively terrible his song choices are.

[Written Post Vol. 1, Pre Vol. 2. Now an 'Eddie Lives' fic.]

Bookmark Comments: I love when people use music to tell stories especially when it feels right.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 excellent use of music 𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 10k+

STRIKE TEN.

by oaseas | Rated T | 16.075

Steve’s striking out. It’s the summer after his graduation, he’s working 9-5 at Scoops Ahoy, and hey, did you hear? He’s striking out. Enter Robin, her ‘you rule/you suck’ board, and a promise to romance the next girl through the door. Except, that’s no girl. That’s Eddie Munson.

Or: One double scoop of pining, please!

Bookmark Comments: Dammit i love stupid fluffy Eddie and Steve parent Max i just--

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Found Family 𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 Steve is an idiot 𝗑 No Upside Down AUs 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 10k+

A Sign of the Morning

by ToEdenandBackAgain | Rated M | 86,804

Vecna is dead. The Upside Down is cut off from Hawkins yet again. Steve is trying to go back to normal, whatever that is. He's also trying to figure out exactly how Eddie Munson has managed to fit so easily into his life.

Bookmark Comments: These boys deserve every happiness and so does Robin.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Domestic 𝗑 fluff 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 75k+

Not So Bad

by outofmygourd | Rated M | 43,409

Vecna is dead. It's the summer after the party's freshman year. Steve Harrington spends it in the Family Video Store, and Eddie Munson is spending post-graduate life bothering him. And maybe Steve isn't as bothered as he used to be.

Bookmark Comments: I just love this story so much

Bookmark tags

𝗑 companion fics 𝗑 fluff 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 25k+

Keep it Steady, Eddie

by outofmygourd | Rated E | 104,812

Eddie Munson doesn't mind working at the Family Video Store. It's a nice sense of normalcy (not to mention money) and he gets to see Robin more because of it. However, between working together and sharing the same best friend, he's also been seeing a lot more of Steve Harrington.

He wants nothing more than to enjoy mindless fun with his friends now that everything with Vecna is over, but Eddie's finding it hard to move on from what happened. Even if the strangest thing in his life right now was simply the fact he and Steve Harrington might actually be friends.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 7/5 Stars (I'm ignoring that only half of these have a star rating, some of them just got deleted and idk why)

Bookmark Comments: This is the slow burn long fic I was so fucking desperate for for like my whole fucking life.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 romance done right 𝗑 slow burn 𝗑 best of the best slow burns 𝗑 stories i can’t stop thinking about 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 100k+

take my hand

by actuallymaxie | Rated M | 17,056

Eddie Munson doesn't mind working at the Family Video Store. It's a nice sense of normalcy (not to mention money) and he gets to see Robin more because of it. However, between working together and sharing the same best friend, he's also been seeing a lot more of Steve Harrington.

He wants nothing more than to enjoy mindless fun with his friends now that everything with Vecna is over, but Eddie's finding it hard to move on from what happened. Even if the strangest thing in his life right now was simply the fact he and Steve Harrington might actually be friends.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: How many of these am i even gonna bookmark god help me i am GAY, fellas. (Future talls: it was SO many)

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 the real gay agenda 𝗑 just queer things 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 10k+

to live my own way

by Macellarius | Rated E | 21,491

Under a much different circumstance, Eddie would have loved to have Steve’s eyes looking over him like that, would love to have that determination focused on him, but Eddie is very much dying, he knows it, so he smiles at Steve’s misplaced confidence instead, “High expectations, Stevie. Where’d you learn to swing like that anyway?”

“I’ll tell you,” Steve’s voice is a bit shaky, his tone wavering, even as he puts on a brave face, “but you have to stay alive, Munson.”

If he had more strength, he’d consider testing his luck one last time, tease Steve by asking if he swings for Eddie’s team, but- he’s tired.

Dying young. What a fucking nightmare.

Or, what if the Party defeats Vecna in time, and Eddie lives?

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: What do you mean this isn't canon?

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 happy endings 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 10k+

We’ll Know for the First Time

by KikiZ | Rated E | 41,993

“Hey,” Steve’s smile is soft, tentative. “Heard you were having a party over here.”

“What are you…” Eddie swallows hard, mouth dry. He wishes every teacher that ever told him he talked too much could see him now.

“I was hoping that invitation still stood,” his eyes are drilling into Eddie’s and he can’t explain why he needs this so much, but he does. Every beat of his heart is begging Eddie to open the door, to let him in.

There’s a beat, a catch of their eyes and Eddie shifts, pushes the door open wide, whispers, “of course,” whispers, “always.” His heart is in his throat, he can’t pull his eyes away as Steve steps in, crowding him so close they share a breath. He can feel Steve’s gravity pulling him in and he’s never wanted to collapse so badly.

OR: Eddie gets to have a good life.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: Here i am bookmarking another Steddie Fic that ripped my beating right directly out of my chest.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 happy endings 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 25k+

Home By Now

by thegreenwitch98 | Rated G | 10,812

By far, the strangest thing about the last two days was not the little twerps from Hellfire that spouted off about something called ‘the Upside Down’, it was not Nancy Wheeler with a gun, or the idea of the town going on a deranged hunt for his head.

The weirdest thing, that he couldn't seem to wrap his brain around, was the presence of Steve Harrington.

***

Eddie Munson wasn’t used to people wanting him around, but now it seemed like no matter where he turned there was someone who cared about him.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: Back on my Steddie bullshit. Wish this was way way WAYYYY longer because it was so fucking good 😭.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Sweet 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 10k+

Learning to Fly

by actuallymaxie | Rated G | 16,595

When Steve was six years old, he told his mother he wanted to fly. When he was twenty, he learned what that really meant.

This is a reimagining of the end of Season 4 Vol 2 because I wanted to see a little bit of a happy ending in there. Alternative title: Steve Harrington’s Big Gay Crisis

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: Sup people who check my bookmarks for recs. I've got the stranger things steddie brain rot too. This one was so good i wept real tears ...for like an hour. Read it!

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 fics with happy endings that still ruined me emotionally 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 10k+

we are the lighthouse and the storm

by hydrangea_bush | Rated M | 30,229

Steve meets Eddie again after two years and remembers the affectionate relationship he'd tried to forget.

// A story of young love, teenage rebellion, and rekindled romance with a happy ending

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: Honestly this tore me to pieces emotionally and I loved every second of it.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 self soothing 𝗑 Being Perceived 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 Love isn’t enough 𝗑 no upside down 𝗑 the terrifying ordeal of being known 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 25k+

-

BEST OF LARPING

The Shire is NOT on Fire

by kissesforcas | Rated E | 54,148

The kids convince Steve to take them all to a Renaissance Faire and LARP event.

Steve has more fun than he admits.

And then Steve has a LOT more fun than he admits.

Bookmark Comments: Oh my god??? Oh my GOD????

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Kink 𝗑 Renaissance Faires 𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 Stranger Things AUs Done Right 𝗑 Multi POV 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 PERSONAL TOP TEN 𝗑 50k+

-

BEST OF STEVE & EDDIE FALL IN LOVE BEFORE VOL 4

Positive Touch & Hangin’ On (Series)

by SheWritesDirty | Rated E & E | 7,908 & 11,128

Positive Touch: Steve, who recently lost his friend (but more importantly his gopher) Tommy, found himself in dire need of getting well and truly high. A problem that found him standing in the middle of Hawkin's trailer park at night, hesitating on the stoop of one particular trailer that he'd usually never risk getting caught dead at.

Still... weed. The weed was gonna be worth it.

Hangin’ On: Steve is freaking out about the fact that Eddie Munson gave him a hand job his graduating year, and how he sort of returned it.

Things escalate.

Bookmark Comments: Sometimes you just. Gotta write horny porn series for your faves and this is probably the only one I'll ever care about. & I am such a sucker for good porn and this is the good eat good shit.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Kink 𝗑 hot hot hot 𝗑 Idiots in love 𝗑 queer shit 𝗑 porn that definitely didn’t call out my own personal porniness 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 10k+

darlin’ you give love (a bad name)

by Thorinoakentwing | Rated E | 24,426

The first time he hears Dustin and Mike mention the name Eddie Munson he almost walks into a VHS display at work.

Steve wants to ask them how Eddie’s doing but then his face from that last party flashes into his head and he always clams up. If he was Eddie he’d want nothing to do with him and rightly so.

Instead Steve teasingly complains about how much time they spend with Eddie and that’s as far as it goes.

Bookmark Comments: God i am a sucker for these AUs

Bookmark tags

𝗑 queer agenda 𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 10k+

stereoscope

by seraphy | Rated E | 60,893

Here's Steve Harrington's biggest secret, though: It's not the alternate dimension brimming with monsters or the impossible girl with powers. It's the fact that he and Eddie Munson have been friends all along. In an on-and-off, tangential, fucked up kind of way. Never on his own terms. But still friends.

Bookmark Comments: This has got to be one of the best and most personal stories I've ever read. It fucking gutted me in the best way. I want to eternally thank you for writing this.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 trauma like mine 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 personal top ten 𝗑 50k+

-

BEST OF EMOTIONAL INTIMACY & PLATONIC INTIMACY

a goddamn blaze in the dark

by jolt | Rated T | 20,355

Eddie doesn’t know how to act around Steve, doesn’t know how to reciprocate the openness. Truthfully, he doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve it.

But there’s something in Steve’s eyes, gears that are shifting and turning behind them, like he’s trying to deduce something. And Eddie wants to tap into it, wants to take a chisel to his skull and excavate it. Why are you always looking at me like that? he wants to ask. Tap tap tap. Why are you still giving me the time of day?

Or, Eddie's never had a friend like Steve before.

Bookmark Comments: This shit was so good I don't even know what to fucking SAY. Like I'm SPEECHLESS.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Hurt/Comfort 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 10k+

Steve Harrington’s Guide to Touch

by how_about_no | Rated M | 18,863

Eddie won't stop touching anyone and everyone, except for Steve. He has a plan to change that.

--

“You can touch me.” That was not how Steve intended for it to come out. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times.

Eddie had frozen with his fingers halfway to his mouth. Smoke curled from his cigarette between them. He raised his eyebrows, then frowned, then bit his lip.

“I can-” Eddie said slowly, his face still rolling through several emotions without landing on one- “touch you?”

Bookmark Comments: Listen I'm ace this is everything to me somehow.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 platonic intimacy 𝗑 fluff 𝗑 ace shit 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 10k+

it’s called freefall

by barelyjoyous | Rated M | 11,633

Steve reached a hand out until Eddie passed the beer back, and leaned forward, looking carefully at the notebook Eddie had left open on the table.

“So, what story are you telling then?”

Eddie smiled then, eyes bright. Steve smiled back, ducked his head down and grabbed the notebook from the table to flip through it.

Eddie talked for hours, and Steve had tried to keep up until he finally understood most of what he was saying, and when he finally cleaned everything up and tucked it back into a box in his room, Steve had followed him in.

Eddie had changed the tape to Motley Crue, Steve’s least favorite, and he’d finished the six pack he’d brought while Eddie rolled a joint.

When he woke in the morning, Eddie’s legs were crossed over his, and Steve’s hand was on his arm.

----

Steve can't sleep. Eddie can't sleep. They unpack a trailer together.

Bookmark Comments: God this is insanely beautiful. I don't even really mind that the ending felt kind of rushed because Eddie saying "You wanted a family, Steve" destroyed me so thoroughly I will never fucking recover.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Found Family 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 10k+

-

BEST OF EDDIE RUNS AN ADVICE COLUMN BC WHY NOT (I loved this fic ok)

Lovesick in Loch Nora

by redoaktree | Rated M | 62,603

Even though Eddie's name has been cleared legally, he's still very much on trial in the court of public opinion. Dealing drugs isn't a lucrative occupation anymore, and getting a legitimate job in a town who still considers him a killer isn't much of an option, either. Eddie is beginning to think skipping town and starting over somewhere no one knows his name is the only chance he has left. Steve has another idea.

AKA: Steve gets Eddie a job as an anonymous columnist at a local newspaper.

Bookmark Comments: Fanfictions that made me gayer somehow. But also i am so serious that i screenshotted so many of the paragraphs for this one because it Hurt Me In My Soul.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 fluff 𝗑 journalisme 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 50k+

-

BEST OF FUCKIN WITH THE TIME AND SPACE CONTINUUM

I’ve seen your face before, my friend, but I don’t know if you know who I am

by HMSLustiania | Rated M | 26,952

At the end of it all, to fix everything, the Hawkins crew had to go back to 1983 and prevent the first gate from ever opening.

After that, they've got a chance to lead normal lives -- from November 1983 onward.

OR

Waking up to find out the government had busted a bunch of experimented-on kids out of Hawkins Lab over the weekend is somehow not the strangest thing that happens in Eddie Munson's junior year.

No, that's a toss up between being reverse-adopted by a party of middle schoolers and the fact Steve Harrington won't stop staring at him.

Bookmark Comments: Oh my god i love found family and bisexual crisis Steve Harrington.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Found Family 𝗑 AUs 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 25k+

the lathe

by palmviolet | Rated M | 82,574

"This time, do it right. This time Eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. This time, Steve will do it right."

— or, steve relives the day they try to kill vecna over and over, and eddie just can't seem to stop dying. steve finds this totally unacceptable.

Bookmark Comments: This is everything to me.

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Found Family 𝗑 Time Loop AUs 𝗑 motherfucking gUTwRENCHING 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 Multi POV (Mostly Steve) 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 personal top ten 𝗑 75k+

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting

by badpancake | Rated T | 41,496

It’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. He’s dove into the water hundreds of times. Screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard Master of Puppets in the distance and held back tears. Felt Max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. There are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: El doesn’t arrive in time. Eddie dies. Max is put in a coma.

Steve fails. They lose.

“Steve, how many loops have you been through?”

His head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and Eddie has approached him like a spooked animal.

“I lost count.”

AKA: The one where Steve Harrington is stuck in a time loop, and Eddie Munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck Volume 2, these bitches are in love.

🌟✨⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐✨🌟 10/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: Okay this fucking destroyed me emotionally and I'm sobbing at 3am lmao. (Future talls: this fic basically started the whole obsession of me reading nothing but Steddie fics for an entire year, so definitely read this one)

Bookmark tags

𝗑 Best of time loops 𝗑 time loops 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 25k+

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BEST OF EDDIE LIVES AND BECOMES FAMOUS

Thank I’ll Go Inside

by nobetterlove | Rated E | 13,833

Steve and Eddie share a night before Eddie leaves Hawkins to chase his rock star dreams with Corroded Coffin. That singular moment in time changes them. Twelve years pass where both Eddie and Steve feel each other's absence as life and careers move on around them. Read to see what happens when Eddie's first solo single brings the two of them back together. Does distance and time truly make the heart grow fonder?

Or - a sorry excuse for a future fic!

Bookmark Comments: Oh thank God i thought this got deleted i will now be bookmarking it for the rest of my fucking life ❤️❤️❤️❤️ (Technically I broke AO3 rules for this fic)

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𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 stories that made me blush down to my bones 𝗑 Multi POV 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 personal top ten 𝗑 10k+

my way, your way (anything goes)

by rogersharrington | Rated E | 25,472

A guitar riff came out over top of all the other instruments and Steve froze in place, the smile on his face disappearing.

He knew that riff. He had heard it enough times over the summer of ‘86 to know it as soon as it started. Hell, Steve was there when it was written.

“Indianapolis, how are we fucking feeling?!”

The guitarist had run out from the side of the stage, wide smile on his face, strumming the riff over and over on his cherry red electric guitar as he spoke to the crowd. Eddie fucking Munson.

or;

Rockstar!Eddie Munson au set in the summer of 1988 where Corroded Coffin opens for Guns N’ Roses after Eddie ran away from Hawkins. Steve sees him for the first time in over a year and old feelings resurface.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: I literally took the entire day off work to read this it was so good. I physically could not move from my bed until i read the entire thing.

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𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 25k+

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BEST OF MODERN AUs

Press Your Space Face Close to Mine

by DiscoSuperFly | Rated E | 12,255

Steve thinks Chicago is a gritty amazing city-filled with so many of his friends, but working for his dad can be soul crushing, until there's a new food truck near the office.

Steve tries a new food truck and is hooked the moment one of the kooky workers catches his eye.

Bookmark Comments: Fics that i wish were longer bc they destroyed my soul (affectionate).

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𝗑 fics i wish were longer 𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 Modern AUs 𝗑 Food Truck AUs 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 10k+

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BEST OF FAKE DATING AUs

Date me instead

by Zhuletta | Rated E | 43,744

Every date Steve has gone to lately has been horrible. It’s impossible that there’s something wrong with the entire female population of Hawkins, so surely there must be something wrong with him.

“Why don’t you take me on a date then?”

“Wh— what?”

“Take me on a date, pretend, of course, and then I’ll tell you if there’s something wrong with you or not.”

Or: Eddie proposes a crazy idea to see if there's something wrong with him, Steve finds the fact that it works is even crazier.

🌟⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐🌟 7/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: Augh yes the fluffy fake dating AU we all need 😭

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𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 fake dating trope 𝗑 fellas is it GAY 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 25k+

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BEST OF KINK

We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do)

by Oonionchiver | Rated E+ (YOU’VE BEEN WARNED) | 88,428

‘Please?’

Eddie stops him again, this time by holding his face. Steve feels Eddie’s thumb moving over his cheek, he feels the cool metal of his rings. He feels everything except what he needs.

‘I’ve never loved anything the way I love you, Steve Harrington,’ Eddie says, dark brown eyes moving between Steve’s own. ‘This isn’t the moment, sweetheart.’

It’s not a rejection, but it’s not a kiss. Steve quietly cries, insides cut up on the broken shards of his stupid little heart and Eddie holds him, he holds him all night until they fall asleep together.

✨🌟⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐🌟✨ 10/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: This one completely and utterly gutted me. It's kinky, it's precious, it's full of love and comfort and hurt and godddd i am inconsolable after reading it. I don't think anything ANYTHING has ever meant so much to me.

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𝗑 kink treated with respect 𝗑 Kink 𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 greatest works I’ve ever read 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 Kink done right 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 PERSONAL TOP TEN FICS OF ALL TIME 𝗑 75k+

don’t go wastin your emotions

by kissesforcas | Rated M | 51,650

"Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, a rage-filled barbarian, who knew?" Eddie says, like its a compliment, like Steve has ANY idea what that means.

"Uh, I knew. Obviously." Steve says, wisely, even though he clearly didn't. "Anyway, do you think we could eat a demobat? Or would we turn into some kind of monstrous freak? I'm starving, and Dustin's cheese crackers are not enough to get me on my feet again."

"What difference does it make to me if I'm a human freak or a monster one?" Eddie shrugs, and Steve butts his shoulder up against Eddie. It's meant to be brotherly, maybe friendly, but it's too soft. Felt like something he might have done before slinging an arm around a girl's shoulders.

"You're not a freak." Steve says, and finds he means it.

Eddie's eyes, when he looks at Steve, are curious. "No?"

"No."

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: Honestly. I just. The fluff? The smut? Steve fully hitting on Eddie in the full light of god and everyone and Dustin and Lucas YELLING about it? This it Good Shit. It's GOOD SHIT.

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𝗑 Kink done right 𝗑 Kink 𝗑 Fluff 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 50k+

Black Out Days (Fairground Nights)

by Oonionchiver | Rated E | 139,167

‘I think,’ Steve says slowly, reaches for Eddie’s abandoned, untouched beers. ‘You don’t know me very well.’

‘I don’t know you at all, man. I don’t really want to.’

Steve’s throat works. It’s subtle, but Eddie sees it. He hides it with a swig of beer, but when he sets it down, his smile isn’t quite so bright. Twice as sharp, though.

‘The self-centred asshole who can only be decent to a single human being, I get it. It works for you.’ Then he takes a thick, heavy breath. The alcohol is hitting him, Eddie can tell. ‘And I am being civil. I’m here, aren’t I? You have any idea how hard it is for me to be here?’

‘In a bar?’

Steve doesn’t answer.

✨🌟⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐🌟✨ 10/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: You know why this is here I don't have to tell y'all anything

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𝗑 Kink 𝗑 BDSM 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 stories that stole my fucking breath 𝗑 no upside down 𝗑 Modern AUs 𝗑 Eddie’s POV 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 100k+

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THE BEST MOST TRANSFORMATIVE WORK IN THE STEDDIE TAG (ok I'm biased, but i'm also right)

the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you

by greatunironic | Rated E | 34,987

Sixteen years after the world didn't end for the last time, Max Mayfield showed up on Steve’s doorstep and said, “You gonna walk me down the aisle in May or what?” Or, it’s 2002 and Steve Harrington attends a wedding, a funeral, and a birth.

🌟✨✨🥤⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐🥤✨✨🌟 44/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: THIS STORY MADE ME CRY SO HARD MY FUCKING CHEST RATTLED. Everybody else go home. Nothing will ever be as good as this. Nothing.

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𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 greatest works I’ve ever read 𝗑 stories that made me cry so hard i threw up 𝗑 stories that made me cry more than I’ve ever cried in my life 𝗑 stories that destroyed me 𝗑 found family 𝗑 Works that both destroyed and shaped me as a person 𝗑 the best and worst things to ever happen 𝗑 i am so serious i didn’t sleep for two days after reading this it fucked me up that bad 𝗑 BEST OF TAG 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 TOP TEN 𝗑 25k+

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BEST OF STEVE'S BISEXUAL AWAKENING

Broken House Behind Me and Good Things Ahead

by lichtbringer | Rated M | 33,139

“Steve… Stevie.” Eddie mumbles, shaking Steve's shoulder.

It takes Steve far too long to blink his eyes open, and when he does, it's to find Eddie, still rumpled from sleep, looking down at him with red cheeks and a sheepish smile.

“Huh?” Steve asks, raising his head from where it was nestled against Eddie.

“As much as I’m loving you all over me, sweetheart.” Eddie teases and Steve blinks at him, still struggling to process the words. “You’re gonna have to let me go for a minute.”

It takes Steve another moment, and then the realisation sinks in. Well, fuck. He fell back asleep, didn’t he? And now Eddie is awake and Steve is going to have to deal with the motifying ordeal of apologising for wrapping around the guy like a clingy octopus.

Even after Vecna's defeat and the charges against him being officially dropped, the people of Hawkins are far too willing to buy into the idea of the supposed satanic powers of Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson.

Tensions spike and Eddie finally does what he should have all along: he leaves Hawkins behind - he just didn't except to do so with Steve by his side.

Meanwhile, Steve finally gets the push he needs to understand what he is feeling.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: THE YEARNING!?!?!? THE EMOTIONS!?!?!? I'M SHOOK!!!!!!?

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𝗑 Emotional Damage 𝗑 Yearning 𝗑 Pining 𝗑 best Steve realises he’s bisexual fic in the fucking tag actually 𝗑 just queer things 𝗑 the real queer agenda 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 25k+

The Edification of Steve Harrington

by ChronicRabbit | Rated E | 44,129

It had been two and a half months since the end of Spring Break.

Eddie had been cleared of all charges, The Byers were back in Hawkins like they’d never left, Vecna was dead and gone, and everything was back to normal; or rather as back to normal as Hawkins could get.

Unfortunately for one Steve Harrington, his new normal seemed to be not only his inability to get a date, but also his newfound proclivity towards staring at Eddie Munson’s mouth while he dramatically narrated during a five hour Hellfire session, or counting the freckles on the bridge of his nose, or memorizing the patterns in his honey coloured eyes.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4/5 Stars

Bookmark Comments: I really need to make a Steddie guide like my Dasey one and this will definitely be on there. (AND I DID! AND IT IS ON HERE! HI!)

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𝗑 Steddie Guide 𝗑 like study guide 𝗑 Get it? 𝗑 Steve’s POV 𝗑 25k+

Go to Steddie Guide Pt 1 →

#steddie #steddie guide #my fanfiction guides #fanfiction guides #steve harrington x eddie munson #guide pt 2 #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction guides

[just-kit-ink]

Ooh what about Baby Herman? I don't think I've seen you mention how Kitty would feel about him if she met him

//Haha, yeah Roger's old co-star. 😆 She's seen his shorts. He's definetly not what she expected if she really expected anything. Imagine Roger taking her to see an old friend of his and it's this tiny toon man-baby in a pram smoking a cigar shaped like a rattle and cursing at the newspaper. He'd be quite suspicious of Kitty at first. What's Roger doing getting a human that isn't a Valiant involved in a high profile conspiracy case? But she seems decent enough, not too brash and flashy either. Might be helpful when doing some snooping.

I also think if she mentioned she was a fan of the old shorts he's be like "At least some people remember us and don't got fluff in their brains!"

Once they hang out more or at least her good relationship with Roger is established, he gives her advice on how to "make it." He also warns her about the weasels. He mostly serves to the story as a means of information especially to Eddie and Roger. Though it's a web of who knows what and how. Definetly one of the first to look around and ask "How many damn people are mixed up in this?!"

#marinerainbow #baby herman #wfrr

[homolad]

okay, analysis time: how and why vecna chooses his victims

disclaimer: i've only watched episodes 1-5 and won't be watching the rest until some time tomorrow so if this is all disproved/proven explicitly in episodes 6-7 my apologies for broken record-ing.

content warning for mentions of an eating disorder and brief mention of vomiting

the tying theme among all of vecna's victims is a sense of guilt. we're introduced to Chrissie as a preppy, happy go lucky cheerleader, with an athlete boyfriend. she's everything teenaged girls aspired to be in the 80s. but then we're shown a scene of her vomiting in the school bathroom. when she begins hallucinating as a result of Vecna's influence, we see her mother passive aggressively chiding her for not being able to fit into smaller clothing sizes. through this we get a sense of guilt around her weight and eating habits. these visions haunt her, and above anything else troubling her seem the most poignant, and we're only shown to focus on that sense of guilt and shame.

Fred is introduced as a sweet if mildly incelesque guy who works on the school paper with Nancy. he has a scar on his face, but that fact isn't pointed out initially. however, when he is confronted with a police officer, he begins to hallucinate the officer chiding him and blaming him for "murdering" someone last year, to which fred grows pale and upset. later, when he's drawn into the woods under Vecna's influence, he stumbles onto a road, and sees in his memory a car on fire. we learn that he feels guilt for being at the wheel in an accidental car crash that was fatal to his passenger. he finds himself trapped in his mind in an open grave, with the corpse of who must have been the passenger besides him.

Victor's guilt is a fairly familiar story- it's guilt as a result of his time spent serving the military in France (likely during world war 2). this is especially concentrated on one particularly gruesome incident- we see a burning crib, with a baby screaming from inside it. it's implied that victor set the bomb that led to the fire, hence the focus of his enormous guilt.

and Max. Max is shown all season to be struggling with what appears to be PTSD as a result of her struggles fighting the upside down and particularly, watching her brother dying in front of her at the hands of the upside down. she feels guilt for her brother's death, both for not having prevented it, and possibly, for taking a form of relief in his passing, given how he was known to take his father's abuse out on her. we see her confess her guilt at not having saved him somehow to him by his graveside, which turns quickly to a Vecna hallucination of him confronting her, and twisting her grief and complex feelings about their relationship into a more sinister idea that she was happy he died.

the last victim of vecna i've seen is a boy from the highschool basketball team whose name escapes me. while there is no clear event showcasing his guilt, he is shown to be reluctant to the other boy's insistence on hunting down Eddie. this others him from them, which could point to events in the past in which they've done potentially harmful things he disagreed with, but was a bystander too, and he may feel guilt for his unwitting part in those deeds.

this shared sense of guilt tying the victims together is an important psychological link. it's common for predators in real life to prey on those who struggle with self image, especially those who are likely to feel they are at fault in confrontations. through choosing people who may be lonely, without support systems, and blaming themselves for things in their life not truly in control, Vecna ensures his victims cannot properly fight against his influence. this is where Max seperates herself from the others; she's gone through a lot, but while she pushes the people around her away they're all still there for her, and she has the knowledge they love her and are fighting with her to ground her. they also unlock the key of music tapping into parts of the subconscious and being a way to reach a person under Vecna's influence, thanks to Nancy and Robin's impromptu Clarice Starling trip to Pennhurst Asylum, but I think even if the others had had the musical connection, they wouldn't have been able to fight Vecna the way Max could. he chooses his victims well, but he made a mistake choosing Max- she isolated herself so well that even he believed she was alone, when she was anything but.

TLDR; Vecna harnesses his victim's guilt and isolation to exploit and corrupt them, which is why Max was able to free herself; by making something of her peace with Billy and rebuilding her connections to her friends.

#long post #cw ed mention #st4 spoilers #st4 #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st meta #meta #max mayfield #billy hargrove