#sad steddie hours

[strangersatellites]

strangers 1.3k words

inspired by ethel cain's song "strangers" and if you read this it is a requirement that you listen to it. (its linked at the bottom)

idk team I was just listening to this song for the millionth time and needed to get this out, so here's 1.3k words of Eddie experiencing life after death and Steve dealing with grief and guilt I guess

Eddie is a ghost. 

He’s made his peace with that.

Some kind of Upside-Down ghost probably. He doesn’t really care.

The people of Hawkins don’t know that. They still believe, still fear that he’s out there somewhere. Everyone that cared about him knows better.

WIthout a proper grave he just kind of… drifts. 

Into and out of spaces, he leaves behind no trace save for a soft breeze if someone’s really paying attention.

They usually aren’t.

He’s not really a physical being so much as a feeling. Still in his body but less aware of it than he ever was. He thinks he couldn’t explain it if he wanted to. Couldn’t explain the way that people can’t see him or hear him when he’s there, but later feel like they had, and feel crazy trying to explain it. He’s had to learn his way around his new consciousness in a way that lets him be near the ones he cares about without hurting them. It's an exhausting cycle, to feel out of your mind.

He can see it in the way dread and grief tug at the shoulders of the people he loved. He knows this because the more someone thinks of him, the closer he can get to them. 

At first he was at home a lot. 

Well, as at home as he could be in this new place they’ve got Wayne in. It’s nowhere Eddie’d ever been when he was living, but Wayne’s there so it's home nonetheless. But as weeks turn into months the closest he can get is just outside the door. He can’t get inside, can’t actually see Wayne anymore. Can’t see the way that loneliness weighs him down. The way he picks himself up every time.

So he lets himself drift to wherever he’s pulled next. A time or two it's been to Jeff’s garage while he’s practicing. Several times he’s gotten to see inside Dustin’s room late at night before the kid falls asleep. 

But the place he’s finding himself more and more often, he didn’t recognize at first. He just knew it was a basement somewhere. Drafty, door locked tight, and with nothing but dusty tools to keep him company, he found comfort in knowing that someone was remembering him. Even if only a little. Even if it’s a stranger.

Eddie’s drifted in and out of whatever kind of consciousness he experiences for a while before his surroundings morph and change. 

The kitchen of the Harrington house he would recognize anywhere. 

He smiles as he takes in the new space and thinks that if he had a human body he’d be sat up on the counter just like he is now.

Steve walks into the kitchen with a furrow in his brow and Eddie takes the time to really look.

This is the first time he’s seen Steve since the last of his air left his lungs and he’s hit with a strange sense of longing. 

Can see it in the bags under Steve’s eyes that, even now, say he’s still carrying everything on his own.

He’d always done that.

When Eddie had made that stupid, stupid decision, though he’d be loath to admit it alive, he’d wondered if Steve would've done the same thing. 

He thinks they both knew the answer was yes and that that’s the reason Steve still looks like hell even months later.

He looks like hell but he’s still so handsome walking over toward Eddie now. 

Eddie knows he can’t see him, doesn’t know he’s there. But he still finds himself longing for the closeness when Steve grabs a glass from the cabinet and leaves the room again.

In an instant Eddie’s back in the basement. Steve’s memory of him gone as quick as it came as Eddie is left with the question that followed him his whole life:

Am I no good?

As he wastes away in the drafty, cold he realizes that he doesn’t feel a pull anywhere else. He decides that seeing Steve once in a while, if only for a short time, is better than being forgotten.

It becomes a routine. Eddie’s hours will turn into days, and he’ll lose track of time. Then he’ll blink and he’s watching Steve stare at himself in the mirror. He looks like he’s been crying and like he’s going to be sick. Eddie wants nothing more than to be able to comfort him. But as quick as they come, they go, and Eddie begins to connect the dots. 

Eddie’s memory, like everything else Steve seldom allows himself to feel, gets carried with him always. But he locks them away tight in his heart and only lets them out when he thinks no one is watching. When he thinks he’s allowed to miss Eddie.

So Eddie stays in the basement, stays in Steve’s heart, heavy, guilty, until Steve’s ready to face it again.

One day it catches Steve by surprise.

Eddie can tell because he’s in the middle of putting away groceries when Eddie gets there.

At first Eddie’s confused. But then he sees the milk carton in Steve’s hand with the big MISSING: EDDIE MUNSON and his photo on the side. There’s a sale sticker over his face in what was surely some angry grocer’s last ditch effort to sell milk with the Hawkins devil on the side.

Steve’s frozen just looking at it and honestly Eddie gets it.

After everything that was lost, this may very well be the only physical memory of him that’s left save for a polaroid photo in an evidence locker somewhere.

He’s able to drift close enough to hear the breath Steve lets out before he puts it in the fridge and finishes unpacking his bags.

From that point on Eddie’s no longer in the basement.

He’s able to drift all around Steve’s house and he learns that he can touch things.

He watches Steve’s smile come back when Robin’s over.

He flits his fingers across windchimes when the air is still and watches them take in the music.

He watches Steve crash after long days at work and drags a blanket up over his shoulder.

Sees his confused face when he wakes.

He looks on when Steve pours the milk down the drain and puts the empty carton right back in the fridge.

Even though this makes him sad, he makes a smiley face out of the magnets on the door. Hopes that Steve notices.

He sees him scream out his anger late into the night and wishes that he could touch Steve.

But as time goes on he’s able to witness the way that Steve learns to carry the guilt, but to also try to let himself breathe.

Eddie spends a lot of his time wishing he were alive so that he could tell Steve he’s proud of him. That he could tell him he’s surrounded by people who would help him carry it all if he would just put it down. Wishes he were alive for a lot more reasons than just that.

But the night he gets the closest is when he figures out that he can use the phone in the office to call the one in Steve’s room while he’s away.

He’d learned early on in this afterlife that if he spoke he wouldn’t be heard. But he has a hunch that this might be an Upside-Down loophole.

He’s sitting on the floor across from where Steve’s lying in bed, and he’s watching the stream of tears drip down his pretty, pretty face while he listens to the voicemail.

Hey Stevie.

Called you just to tell you that I made it real far, and that I never blamed you for loving the way that you do while you were torn apart.

I would still wait with you there.

Don’t think about it too hard or you’ll never sleep a wink at night again. Don’t worry about me, Stevie, just know that I loved you.

And I’ll see you when you get here.

#steddie #kinda #im not even going to properly tag this #this is purely self-indulgent #sad steddie hours #gin writes #things I wrote instead of things I should be writing #y'all like actually have to listen to the song to get the full effect of this #if y’all haven’t gotten the gist by now #preachers daughter literally changed my life #and i will never shut the fuck up about it

[fili-is-gone]

Eddie and Steve would probably both think themselves unworthy of each other's love, because they think they don't deserve that kind of happiness. And that's sad.

#but they're actually perfect for each other #they could make each other so happy #if they just let it happen #steddie #sad steddie hours #stranger things #eddie and steve #steve harrington #eddie munson

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

Gareth Emerson had no clue what the hell Eddie was thinking. 

There was “adopting lost sheep” as he called it, and “being the nest baby birds needed before they fly” for some of the other poor, mid-year transfers, and all of Hellfire was used to both these adoptees. 

People showed up, always looking a little hesitant, always a little careful, and all of them were welcomed until they found their place in Hawkin’s High. 

This though? This was neither of those things.

No, what Eddie had done was taken a wolf, or a--fucking tiger, that had gotten hurt fighting other fucking tigers, and decided to keep it as a pet. 

Even if said pet was looking very pathetic, with a face full of bruises that apparently, Billy Hargrove caused.

That did not make sitting across from the fallen King and current senior, Steve Harrington, any easier. 

Judging by the rest of Hellfire’s constant uneasy glances and uncomfortable, awkward joking, no one else was comfortable with it either. 

Except of course, for Eddie. 

“Dude can we like, talk for a minute?” Gareth asked, motioning at Jeff and Grant to distract Harrington. Not that it was hard, the jock was too busy staring at his pathetic packed lunch to notice much. 

(The guy brought soup to school and was drinking it cold. What the fuck.) 

“Ga~ary.” Eddie sing-songed, but it was in warning. 

A warning very much ignored, as Gareth stood, and moved to tug Eddie up with him. 

“Now, Eddie.” He said, his own tone a manic, if suppressed version of his own warning.

Gareth was not known for keeping his temper, but he also wasn’t keen on getting his ass kicked this early in the day if Harrington took offense. 

And considering they had all finally caught a look at Hargrove, and the way he fucking stopped and turned on his heel the second he saw Harrington, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that Harrington could kick his ass. 

Even in his current, beaten to shit state. 

Eddie huffed a dramatic breath, making sure at least some of his hair moved with it, but stood nonetheless. 

“I’ll return shortly, friends!” He called jovially, before letting himself be dragged backwards several feet. 

Just fair enough away where they could still see the table, but not be heard. 

Particularly not by any invading jocks. 

“What were you thinking!?”  Gareth started, hands crossed over his chest tightly.  “You didn’t even talk to us first!”

“Garebear, look at him.” Eddie said, placing both hands on his friend's face, turning it to look at Steve’s hunched form. 

“Those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes.” Eddie continued, leaning in to whisper in Gareth’s ear. “The pathetic way he slouches.”

 Eddie leaned even closer, lips tickling Gareth’s ear and making the latter swat at him. 

He dropped his hands to Gareth’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. 

“His giant empty house we can use for Hellfire meetings.”

“Is that seriously why you dragged him over here?” Gareth demanded, a little louder than he’d meant too, if Eddie’s abruptly tight grip was anything to go by. 

“Of course not.” Eddie scoffed. “Rumor has it the guy throws money around for his friends and if we play our cards right, we can be the receiving end of that gravy train.” 

Eddie grinned theatrically while he said it, staring into Gareth’s eyes like his smile alone would convince him to play along. 

It was the fakest thing Gareth had ever seen on his best friends face. 

“Don’t bullshit me man.” He said quietly, eyes narrowed. “What’s the actual reason you decided to go against your own doctrine and adopt Steve Harrington, of all people?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked to Harrington and back. “There’s no other--”

“Eddie.” Gareth snapped, a flash of his temper breaking through. “You’re my best friend. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.” 

“Has anyone told you you’ve been using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, Gare?” Eddie muttered, but it was more subdued, the playful mask falling from his face. 

As a matter of fact, Ms. Click had called him out on it that very morning, but Gareth knew better than to admit that and derail this conversation. 

“Edwin Dale Munson.” Gareth growled, enjoying the way Eddie flinched from his full, government name. 

“Sssh!” Eddie dropped his hands from Gareth’s shoulder to wave them in his face. “Fine, fine, look. Rumor has it he got cheated on, blew up his friendship with Hateful Hagan and Cocky Carol, and then took a beating from Hargrove. All in the same like, week.” 

Eddie tugged at his hair, the movement harsh. 

“I found him walking home in the dark the other day. Said something was wrong with his car, but Gareth.” Eddie paused, gnawing on his lower lip, before he stopped close once again, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I had to coax him in my car and when he got in he kept flinching.” 

“Flinching.” Gareth repeated. 

“Like I was gonna hit him or something.” Eddie explained. “Worse Harrington’s house was dark when I got home. I mentioned to Wayne it didn’t look like anybody lived there and he said he was surprised anyone did. He thought the Harrington’s moved.” 

“Okay.” Gareth said, not quiet following this part of the conversation. 

“He thought they moved because some coworker of his wife worked for them as a house keeper or some shit. Said they bought a place in Chicago. She helped them pack.” 

Another look, but this time Gareth had picked up on what was happening. 

The flinching. 

Not going with his parents.

Staying in Hawkins, when Harrington had a chance to get the hell out. 

It didn’t paint a pretty picture. 

“Shit.” Gareth said finally.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.” 

Together, they turned to stare at Harrington, who had hunched further into himself now that Eddie was gone from the table. 

“If he turns on us I’m blaming you.” Gareth grumbled finally, and tried not to let the smile that broke out on Eddie’s face effect him. 

“Glad to hear you’re on board, Garebear.” Eddie said, patting his shoulder hard. 

“You’re a fucking teddy bear, you know that right?” Gareth continued as they turned to walk back to the table.

“Shut your mouth.” Eddie fired back. 

“I don't think I will. In fact, Harrington!” Gareth spoke the jock’s name loudly, making the dude jerk and spill some of his soup. 

Bruised eyes looked up at him and Gareth fired a smug right into Harrington’s face. “Wouldn’t you agree that Eddie here is a giant teddy bear?”

“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut in, as Harrington blinked slowly, a puzzled look overtaking his face. “Gareth here has a big imagination.”

“Let the man give his own opinions. I’m sure he has some!” 

Steve looked between them. 

“I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He decided on. 

“Smart man.” Jeff muttered, causing the rest of the table to snicker.

For the first time since he sat down, Gareth witnessed a small smile appear on Harrington’s face. 

#hellfire adopts Steve #i just love the idea of steve being hellfires mean girl his senior year #like you cant look me in the eyes and tell me Eddie Munson wouldnt be argueing with himself constantly about #Sad Boy Hours Steve #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #0o0 fanfics #steve x eddie #pre relationship #i just wanna see them in school together dammit #gareth emerson #i love him so much

[hairmetal666]

When Steve is 10, he wishes on the stars to bring him love

At 20, Steve wishes for them to bring him back

#sad hours #steddie #steve x eddie #i'm so sorry #i have no excuse #this popped into my head in the middle of the night and I needed it to be everyone's problem #angst #lost love #longing #heartache

[hotluncheddie]

I was thinking about how Steve would deal with his sexuality crisis and how when he's tryna figure everything out he maybe has this moment of panic because he thought he'd stopped lying to himself and trying to be someone he's not but maybe that's not the case at all and he hasn't stopped pretending at all. And he just starts spiralling and it makes him want to stop thinking about pretend it isn't there so he just shoves it into a proverbial box so he can ignore it

:( sad stevie baby hours for us then anon?

sad sad self sabotaging steve. my dude. my wet little guy.

the idea that he though he was doing better, being himself, not lying to anyone not even when he’s alone. maybe he doesn’t like change and he’s hanging on to fragments more closely now, gripping things tightly in his palms. where he used just let it wash over him, no point giving it thought, things don’t change anyway. but then everything did, right? everything changed and so did he and now he has all this stuff. all this stuff attached directly to his heart strings.

and then he likes boys.

he likes girls but he likes boys. has liked boys. wants boys, too.

now there's boys and he starts to shut down.

Just that feeling of 'i'm doing better' but then it kinda turn into 'okay i'm tired lets just get though it' then it keeps going 'just one more week, just one more day' and then you look around and it feels like everything you've built in crumbling away around you. and that person you built up and thought you created was actually formed on a mudslide, your foundations were never gonna hold. it's all fallen apart without you really noticing

he doesn't have the words to describe how. there's a war happening between what he thinks he should feel, what maybe he does feel and who he thinks he is. who he was and who he wants to be are there somewhere too. but it's lost in the soup of his head.

but he has robin right? with her bright light and unconditional love. but this thing, this new thing. he's always been that right? this boy girl thing. so, he's a liar then. he never told her so he lied. lied to bright, beautiful robin. how could he have done that?

and there's eddie. eddie so much a part of this boy girl thing. eddie who feels like he could be his. feels like summer rain on his skin, feels like citrus tang on his tongue. but eddie knows who he is, think so deeply and is so true, so distinctly and explosively himself. and steve doesn't even know one bit about who he is. not really. not now. after this thing. its torn it all down. everything changed again but this time the cracks aren't through the town they're in his skin, at his roots.

can't bring eddie into that. can't let robin risk falling in.

but then maybe they jump through those cracks, start hiding things in the crevices. little beams of starlight and greenery. start helping him see that those cracks are quite pretty, maybe they let you see a little more of his skin. that this mud slide he's on feels a lot like grounding. like barefeet on grass and leaves turning with the sun. that maybe this boy girl thing is new, and old, and its so so steve. that maybe he can be okay again, build something new and live a little differently. but still true. because its always been true right? all those feeling, all those smaller him's and things locked away. they're peeking out of the cracks now. peaking out into this thing. this thing he can be. always be and always play with. even if it takes along time, that okay, it'll take all his life, maybe. to figure out he likes oranges, likes daisies the most, likes girls, like boys, likes this trying to be himself.

and maybe those hidden crevices start to shine a little brighter, the plants start to bloom. maybe robin never left and never will, find him a bathroom floor all his own. sees that always and right now are sisters and she can take his heart and keep it next to her own, until he's ready to have it back again, hold it real safe this time.

and eddie keeps turning up on his tongue, keeps dripping all over his skin. becomes his eddie. bis boy. his one. his new side of the boy girl thing. a this boy thing and love thing. romance on the mudslide. kisses under starlight.

#couldn't let him just be sad #dunno if it answered ur ask but it felt good to write #felt a little cool and little cozy to write #ty for the ask as always #lovely anon #hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #<3 #sad stevie baby hours #stobin #ask #drabbles

[imfinereallyy]

Placeholders

another birthday bit, unrelated to earlier, but something I wrote on my birthday. it’s a bit sad, I’m sorry.

There is an empty space on the couch.

There is an empty space on the couch between Dustin and Mike. The light from the window touches it gently. Making the Byers-Hoppers worn leather couch glow a soft brown. The house is filled with noise and chatter; a happiness that was once lost resides here.

Steve Harrington turns 24, and there is empty space on the couch.

Steve knows Max wouldn’t have sat there. That spot is not reserved for her. She would have sat on the floor between El’s legs while El brushed her hair softly with her fingers, or she would have draped herself over the edge of Lucas’ chair, teasing him with her head hooked on his shoulder.

Steve aches. He sees her in the missing pieces sometimes. A space in the car, a hand grasping at nothing, a laugh when there has only been silence. As if they are all moving in the same ways they did years before, not filling in the holes, just moving forward with gaping parts of themselves.

The house is full of noise, and love, and laughter. Robin leans her head on the tops of Steve’s knees, her hand braiding away at the new friendship bracelet she’s making him. He gets one every birthday. Will and El are drawing on a giant birthday card that Steve knows he’ll hang in his dingy apartment. Nancy and Erica are chattering away in the corner about something that will make Steve’s head spin, he’s sure. Everyone is here; everyone is safe. Steve thinks sometimes he will lose this; they will all push him away. But they come back time and time again. Except…

It’s Steve’s 24th birthday, and there is an empty space on the couch.

Steve Harrington is 24 years old, and Eddie Munson never makes it past twenty. And there is a space, that really isn’t his, but is there for him anyway.

Steve grieves.

He knows it’s unfair. Steve didn’t really know him. They were only ever sideways of each other. Paths crossed one another but never at the same time. A distance in a small place.

Steve feels bad at times, knows they could have done great things. Lead their friends on their strange journeys. Made each other better. He believes that they were more similar than they once thought. Different sure, but would have understood each other somehow.

Steve thinks they were kinda like stars in the same galaxy. Both shine brightly, both guide the way, but too far apart to say goodbye when the other burns too quickly.

When Steve had known him, it was temporary. Eddie had been a temporary person in the life of Steve Harrington. It isn’t a bad thing per se, but an unfortunate truth. Their time together was, although not very long, is held closely to Steve. It was important.

Steve thinks it’s unfair that he gets all the time; he gets all this time to waste, and be happy about it. Angry. Sad. Steve gets to feel, and Eddie gets an empty space.

Steve hears someone’s laugh from across the room. He wants to hold it in his hands and bottle it up, put it on a shelf for safekeeping. It’s not as rare as it used to be, time heals some things, but he finds it makes him want it more. Keep it close. The kids, who are not kids, shout and scream and yell, “Steve, you be the tiebreaker!”. There is never silence, only sounds, so they never really see the gaps that remain.

But Steve thinks about the smile Eddie had once sent his way. The slight tick of the lip into laugh lines. Steve craves for that moment again. Not because it meant anything, not because it held some secret. But because it was good, and Steve at the time didn’t really know much of that.

Steve knows, if the space on the couch was filled, Steve would be in love.

Their time together doesn’t prove this, he knows and is not delusional, but Steve can feel it in his gut.

At times, you meet a person and realize they are going to stick around for a while. And other moments, you meet someone and don’t notice that you were meant to know them until your chance has passed.

There are instances you meet someone, and you feel as if you should say “Hello again.” Even though you are meeting for the first time.

Steve can’t help but notice more time has passed since he left, then the the amount of time he knew him.

Steve knows it’s selfish. It’s selfish to grieve something that was never his, to grieve the idea of a person. But he can’t help the mourning that comes when he wakes. He can’t help but think there is a laugh he is supposed to know, like his favorite song. He can’t help but think, Eddie Munson should have made it to 24.

Steve can tell the rest miss him, even the ones who didn’t know him. There was a role Eddie was supposed to fill, a balance thrown off by his absence. Steve sometimes catches them all trying to put the pieces back together of a ghost. They’ll take his old clothing from Wayne, read a book left on his nightstand, and tap their fingers to the beat of a song Eddie once knew. It feels like they are all trying to build him from scratch.

The party sings Steve happy birthday; they try to squeeze all the candles on it. Hopper yells at them, tells the kids it’s a fire hazard, but makes no move to stop them. The boys are yelling to wish for things they want. The girls, El, tells him to wish for love. Jonathan takes a photo of him blowing out his candles. Robin squeezes his hand.

I wish I could have known.

They cut the cake; they spread out again. This time Lucas sits on the edge of his chair, like he’s leaving space for only one person to come back and sit. No one makes a move to share with him. There is an empty space on the couch. The sun no longer touches it; only the warm lamp light reaches its corners.

Steve doesn’t think he knew Eddie Munson very well, but he likes to believe that Eddie would have liked this. He would have liked the noise. He would have liked a mismatched family. He would have liked celebrating a meaningless birthday of a friend he didn’t have. Steve likes to think they wouldn’t have been friends for long. He knows, somehow, Eddie would have loved him too.

There is an empty space on the couch. Steve doesn’t plan on filling it anytime soon.

***

Sorry for any of the tense changes or mistakes, this was more of a stream of thought piece. It’s bittersweet.

#steddie #Steve likes to sit in the bitter sweetness #hurt/no comfort #but like #also a little #hurt/comfort #angst #Steve Harrington #stranger things #Eddie Munson #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #Robin Buckley #the party stranger things #my writing #birthday blues #sad boi hours

[theshireisburningg]

I don't like that when they threw me in the car I gave your name as my emergency phone call Honey, it rang and rang even the cops thought you were wrong for hanging up I dial drunk, I'll die a drunk, I'd die for you

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | 2k

“It’s the Harrington boy again, can you tell Hopper we’re bringing him in?”

Steve leans back against the headrest and watches as Officer Powell bends through the window to speak into the radio, eyes linger on Steve as he speaks with a disappointed shake of his head.  He turns to talk to Officer Callahan and Steve only catches on to parts of the conversation, realizes he's not getting off easy when Officer Callahan gets into Steve's car, pulling it off the curb and away from the scene.

The blue and red lights that were painting the street shut off as Powell gets into the driver's seat, silent as he follows Steve's BMW down the back roads.

The ride to the station is uneventful, with occasional radio messages coming through that Powell seems to ignore. The real problem starts the second he's through the doors of the station, staring down Hopper who stubs his cigarette out and stands, marches until he's only a foot in front of Steve.

"What is your problem?" Hopper's voice is quiet, but Steve knows him well enough to pick up on the angry clench of his jaw, and sees the look he shoots Powell, who drifts down the hall in an attempt to give them privacy.

"Callahan and Powell are so fucking dramatic, you know that right? I didn't do anything."

"Thirty miles over the speed limit? Drunk off your ass, nearly taking out a fucking telephone pole, you're telling me that's nothing? Doesn't sound like nothing."

"Jesus, everyone goes thirty miles over on Franklin, the speed limit is a joke."

“Yeah? And a man was left paralyzed last year after he flipped three times on the corner near Rich’s farm. Is that a joke too?”

Hopper levels him with a look that tells Steve that was a rhetorical question and you better not respond. He waves Powell back toward the two of them.

"Book him overnight."

Steve's eyes widen, feels that punch in his gut when Hopper just gives up on him.

"Hopper man, come on. Don't do this, I'll pay whatever bullshit fines you want me to, just let me go home."

"I'm not doing it this time, Steve. I know you've been through shit- we've all been through shit, but just... treating your life like it's nothing? Putting yourself in danger when you know there are people that rely on you? My kid relies on you. I'm not doing it.  You're on your own for this one."

It hurts more than he thought it would, hearing Hopper go from angry to downright disappointed in him. He’s through the doors before Steve can respond, and Steve is left alone to stumble after Powell towards the back room.

The actual cell room is quiet, only occupied by one other person, an older guy Steve has seen pandering outside the package store on multiple occasions, curled up and asleep on the far bench. It reeks of cigarettes and damp cement, has Steve scrunching his nose.

"Anytime now."

 Steve sees that the cell has been unlocked by Powell who gestures him in.

Steve racks his brain for any way out of this, thinks of earlier in the month when he narrowly avoided this exact situation, and grasps at straws for a rescue plan.

"Wait I- I definitely get a phone call. That's like, the law or something."

"Oh, suddenly we care about the law, Harrington?"

Steve purses his lips and stands his ground outside the cell.

"I'll be quick."

And Steve thinks Powell must have had a shitty day because with nothing more than a sigh the door is closed with Steve still on the outside, a receiver pushed into his hand.

"Quick."

Steve dials fast, punches in the only number he's ever managed to memorize. The line rings, and rings, until Steve is eventually met with a beep, quiet static signaling the answering machine picking up.

“Shit..." Steve trails off, realizing in his haste to get a call he hadn't planned as far as what to actually say when he got through. He struggles through a half-assed explanation of his night.

"Hey, it’s um.. it’s Steve. There was a mixup and I’m at the station and Hop is being a pain in my ass. If you uh- wake up and hear this I was thinking maybe you could come pick me up?" Steve pauses, sees Powell watching him, and picks up on the hurry it up in his glare. “Anyway, I, uh- I love you. Call back if you can.”

When nothing else comes to mind, Steve hangs up, hoping he sounded more put together than he feels.

"No luck, huh?" Powell raises an eyebrow, and gestures for Steve to return to the cell.

"Fuck off. He'll call back, it's just late." Steve says with no fight, dropping down onto the metal bench with a clank.

"Mhm. I'm sure."

Once the lock clicks Steve tilts back, runs a hand through his hair and down his face, feels the exhaustion setting in. Now that he's sitting still it's hitting him how fucked up he got, how drunk he still is.  The room spins, and he closes his eyes in an attempt to drown it out.  The sound of the clock must lull him to sleep, because the next thing he knows he's jolting awake, takes a second to get his bearing, and realize that Callahan has taken over and is banging on the bars to get his attention.

"What?"

"Jesus kid, I said you got a call. You gonna take it or not?"

At that information, Steve rises quickly and stumbles towards the barred door now being held open for him. He grabs the phone resting on the countertop and answers with a breathless exhale.

"Hello?"

"Are you fucking serious, Steve?"

Eddie sounds pissed, even over the phone, and Steve flinches back from the receiver.

"I... uh-" is the most articulate response he comes up with, trails off into silence. It seems like Eddie wasn’t done with what he had to say anyway.

"This is the second fucking time this month, I mean... you're so selfish Steve you know that? I should just fuckin' leave you there. I mean- what gives you the right to call me and expect me to drop everything to come and save your ass? Again?"

"Baby, I'm sorry, I-" Steve sees the eyebrow raise from Callahan, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him, to stop talking. Eddie cuts him off, probably for the best.

"Don't fucking baby me Steve. Get real."

Steve doesn't respond, has no clue what to say, but forces a loud breath out to let Eddie know he's still on the line.

"I'll be there in fifteen. Fuck." The last thing Steve hears is the phone being slammed again the hook on the other side, and Steve stares into the receiver like he'll see Eddie on the other end, pictures him fuming as he paces the hallway of the trailer. 

___

It feels like he's back on the metal bench for an eternity before Eddie is coming through the door and Steve catches a glimpse of Hopper, who must have stayed at the station after all, whispering final words to Eddie who nods and enter the room alone.

Eddie hangs by the door, stares Steve down intensely but remains absolutely silent, only stepping close to slam a few bills on the counter to pay Steve's bail and pocket his car keys, ignores the mumbled thank you and retreats back to the door to wait for Steve to finish the paperwork.

Steve doesn't try to speak until they're in the privacy of the van and waits until they're backed out of the parking spot to say something.

"Eddie."

"Don't."

He does, anyway.

"Thank you."

"Do not thank me.  I cannot explain to you how much I don't want to be helping you right now."

"Then why did you?"

Eddie glances at him quickly, doesn't let the eye contact linger for more than a second before he's staring back at the road.

"I don't know Steve. Because I love you? Is that what you want to hear? Because despite the fact that you don't care about me- at fucking all- that I still drop everything to help you even when you don't deserve it?"

Steve sits up straighter, eyes fixed on the side of Eddie's face, and sees the pain there in the flashes of the street lights.

"I care about you. I love you. Why would you say I don't?"

"Because if you loved me you wouldn't get fucked up- on who knows what by the way- and almost drive yourself into a fucking ditch."

"Hopper is overexaggerating. I had two beers at a party and there isn't even a ditch to drive myself into on Franklin Street anyway."

Eddie sighs and shakes his head at Steve's words.

"And if you loved me you wouldn't lie to me about this shit. I've been dealing since I was fifteen you think I can't tell you're high off your ass?"

At the acquisition, at Eddie pointing out the truth, Steve has no response, and they sit in silence for the rest of the drive.

There are lights on in the trailer when they pull up but Steve is still careful to shut the van door quietly in hopes that Wayne is asleep because the last thing he needs is to disappoint the other half of his honorary father figures.

Luck continues to not be on Steve's side, as it turns out, because Wayne is sitting on the couch when he trails in behind Eddie, sets his coffee mug down, and stands to greet them.

"Son."

Steve nods and hovers back. He would usually greet Wayne with a handshake, or a hug when it's been a particularly long time, but now he refuses to meet his eyes and counts the tiles at his feet instead of responding.

"There's coffee in the pot. I'm going to turn in for the night if you boys are alright?" He directs this part to Eddie who nods and mumbles thanks before going to grab a single mug, slams the cabinet door louder than necessary. He fills it to the brim with black coffee and stalks down the hall to his room without looking back.

Steve follows, lost, and takes the mug as Eddie thrusts it into his hands.  He hovers by the door, takes a gulp as Eddie leaves, and comes back with a bottle of aspirin that he throws on the bed.

Eddie's facing away from him, and Steve sets his mug on the desk gently, steps forward until he's wrapping his arms around Eddie from behind, tries not to think too hard about how Eddie flinches at his touch.

"M' sorry."

Eddie sighs, lets his arms hang limply at his sides but makes no move to step away from Steve.

"You can't keep doing this Steve. I'm serious. This is the last time I help because I'm not going to be a part of this whole self-destructive bullshit thing you have going on right now."

"I'm going to get better. I'm trying." He rests his forehead on Eddie's back, words muffled into the fabric of his sweater.

"That's what you said last month when Hop caught you and Tommy buying coke outside Family Video."

"I'm sorry." Steve apologizes again, feels like it's the best thing that he can come up with that Eddie won't see right through.

They stand there quietly, Steve swaying them both side to side lightly. Eddie lets him but Steve can tell he's still tense, his shoulders drawn up in defense.

Eddie is the first to break the trance and squeezes Steve's wrist lightly before prying his hand off, stepping away from the warmth of his body.

"C'mon. Let's sleep."

Steve shucks off his jeans and climbs under the covers, watching as Eddie does the same.  He takes the two aspirin handed to him dry, tosses the bottle back to the foot of the bed, thinks it might be useful in the morning when the hangover pain really sinks in.

Eddie faces away from him still, rolls as far to his side of the bed as he can.  Steve feels the distance between them and wants to reach out and pull Eddie close but knows he has no right to.

He's not sure if Eddie is asleep but he speaks anyway, a whisper into the night.

"I'm going to get better. For you. I'll do it for you."

A beat passes with no response, no sign from Eddie that he heard at all, but then he's rolling over, eyes finding Steve's in the sliver of moonlight hitting the bed.

"You have to do it for you, Steve. Don't put that on me."

"I'm sorry. I will."

Steve sees that Eddie only half believes him, and knows they've been here before, the gap between them growing every day.

But Eddie reaches out and finds his hand under the covers, and brings it to his mouth.  A faint kiss to Steve's bruised knuckles.

"I will," Steve says again, just to fill the silence. Then, "I love you," because it's the only thing he knows he can say that won't be a lie.

#bro what the hell #dial drunk by noah kahan meets steddie #this is angsty and sad youve been warned #i also wrote this in like an hour and did not proof read it #just like the ol college essays #enjoy <3 #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing

[livesindelusionland]

"Slut!" by Taylor Swift is Steve Harrington coded to me because of got lovesick all over my bed and lovelorn and nobody knows and if I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love

#in his sad boy hours #he just wants to be loved #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #to me because Eddie is who he's thinking about in his head #to ME

[steveshairychest]

After Eddie's death, Steve starts writing him letters as a way to cope. It started off as a way to apologise to Eddie for not being there to save him, but then he found writing the letters made him happy. He liked telling Eddie about his day and all the dumb things Dustin had said. He started leaving the letters in a box near Eddie's make shift grave that they had to place where none of the town people could find. But he starts to notice that the box was starting to fill with letters that weren't his own. Some said "From Dustin", "From Max", there was even one in there from his Uncle Wayne. He hoped that somehow Eddie was able to read their letters and be comforted wherever he was.

#sad eddie hours #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #st4 vol2

[realkilljoyhoursnow]

my friend told me to draw Steve braiding Eddie's hair (they're watching Labyrinth :))

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steveddie #stranger things #HELLO STEDDIE NATION #i both love and hate this drawing so much #i love the concept. but i actually cannot stand to look at this i hate it #except for eddie i really like how i did him #i couldnt decide which colouring i wanted so i included both #sad cuz you cant see the pants detail with the blue which sucks #i hate this drawing. #hours has art

[starrynima]

the harringtons only has a few framed photos up in the house which are all professionally taken and very official looking. steve has never liked looking at them too long.

steve’s room however, has many photos, not necessarily framed, scattered around on his desk, his walls and on his shelves. he has one of his graduation day in his robes with dustin by his side which jonathan offered to take and develop personally for him since he was doing the yearbook photos anyway. another one is of robin and him in family video which robin took during their break because she had gotten a polaroid camera for her birthday and she was obsessed with using it. another is of him with eddie, nancy and robin on their graduation day. he doesn’t quite remember who took the photo (a lot were taken on that day) but one day, nancy just gave him a copy and he passed by melvalds to pick up a frame for it immediately after work. there’s many more, random photos taken, none of them professionally done. the location or occasion not important, only the people within the photos, people he loves.

there’s one however he keeps in the drawer beside his bed. he would put it up but his mother had a habit of entering his room whenever, and the photo, if seen, would arise some questions. the photo was the first one he’d ever taken of someone and developed himself. it’s a photo of eddie, slightly blurry. his eyes were looking at someone, at steve stood in front of him fumbling with the camera in his hands, still working out how to use it. eddie was sat outside his trailer on the steps, a cigarette in his hand and the biggest smile on his face. it’s steve’s favourite photo in the world.

#steve's found family!! #this isn't really sad but i wrote this during my steve sad hours #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 4

Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3 

There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating. 

In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him. 

“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?” 

As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on. 

You know, for fun.

With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?” 

Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade. 

Not of his own free will, anyway. 

“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later. 

“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.

A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once. 

“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!” 

He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”  

“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”

“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. 

This was a regular battle between him and the kids who haunted the arcade.

(One had overheard Grant call him Gary the last time he was in, and ever since, every single child that graced this fine establishment with Cheeto-dusted fingers and candy-induced sugar rushes had decided to replace his actual name with his nickname.

The fact it clearly frustrated him only egged them on. )

“We go to school together Dustin,” Steve said, as if he were talking to someone particularly dense. 

“Yeah? You go to school with lots of people. You bitch about most of them.” Dustin fired back.”Plus Gary’s a total nerd. I bet you call him names.” 

"Hey, language!" 

Gareth’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the little fucker. He was definitely going to remember Dustin (and equally going to watch and see what arcade games the younger teen played-- and top the score chart of every single fucking one.

He might be a nerd but he wasn’t gonna take that shit from a middle schooler.) 

“Hate to break it to you brats, but your babysitter here just joined our D&D club.” Gareth replied, if only to finally one-up the little bastards. “Our DM is building him a character as we speak.” 

(Which wasn't even a lie. Eddie was building a character for Steve. The guy just refused to give any input on grounds that he "wasn't going to play anyways." )

Abrupt and sudden silence, as several stunned faces stared at him. 

“Oh goddammit.” Harrington cursed, as the entire herd of children turned on him in unison like some kind of hivemind horror monster. 

“You joined the D&D club,” Dustin said slowly, outraged. “And you let them make you a character sheet, but you won’t play with us!?” 

“What the hell Steve!” The sporty-looking one whined, clearly hurt. “You won’t sit in on our games! You said they were lame!” 

“They are lame.” Steve defended immediately, pushing at sporty-kids head. It was fond though, the kind of gentle shove an elder brother gave to a younger one. It caused the kid's camo banana to fall into his eyes, which he adjusted quickly with a grumble. “Turns out the high school version’s cooler.” 

“He’s lying.” That from the bitchy one, whose arms were crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. “Steve probably paid Gary to say that” 

Gareth had seen that exact same stance on Steve at lunch that day, and wondered if the little asshole knew who he was copying when he did it. 

“Who cares about D&D?” This from the redhead, standing with another girl giggling in her ear. “I’m just amazed Steve has friends.” 

“Really Mayfield?” Steve said, looking almost betrayed. As if he thought she was going to be the one to defend him in this weird little showdown.

The girl leaning on her giggled harder, making Mayfield grin (even if she tried to hide it.)  She whispered something, which the redhead outright laughed at before repeating; “Adult friends even!” 

“Okay.” Steve said, clearly cutting the kids off before they could embarrass him further. “Thank you, unwanted peanut gallery, for all of that lovely commentary. Now go back to playing the games you little shits robbed me of all my quarters for, or we’re leaving.” 

Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to pick us up?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did Jonathan magically appear behind me in the last five seconds?” Steve turned around pretending to search the parking lot through the windows. “No? Then I guess we’re still waiting. Unless you, Lucas and Max want to leave first.” 

“You’re such an ass.” Dustin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you waiting in the car anyway?” 

“It’s raining, it’s cold, and I thought I’d come in to say hi to my friend.” Steve replied, so quickly it took Gareth a moment to realize what Steve referred to him as. 

He'd gotten the friend title before Eddie. 

His best friend was going to fucking freak. 

“Are you done drilling me or are you going to let Max kick your ass at DigDug again?” 

“Shit!” Henderson cursed, spinning to intercept the redhead as she bent to put a coin in said arcade machine. “Max, you said you’d let me keep my leaderboard score today! Max!” 

“I know you said you watched kids, but this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.” Gareth said, slumping against the counter.  

(He'd been thinking of Steve watching much younger kids for one, and two, he was starting to get the idea the babysitter thing was used as an insult. 

Gareth knew a big brother vibe when he saw it.) 

Steve gave him a tired look. “Me neither man. Me neither.”

 Then; “You fucking owe me for that D&D comment, they’re never going to shut up about it now.”

Gareth winced. “Sorry. I was trying to help.” 

Steve blew out a breath. “I know. I appreciate the attempt.” 

Which was better than Steve bitching at him for it, not that he’d really ever done that to Gareth. 

The two of them hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to be playful like that with each other, though they had occasionally jumped in on opposing sides to arguments Eddie caused. Gareth figured they’d get there in time, but even with all the progress Steve made, he still had more off days than on. 

It was a fragile line to walk with him. Especially when there wasn’t a single member of Hellfire who wanted to ruin the progress they made. 

(Even if half of them would never admit to it.) 

“Steve?” A voice interrupted, quiet in a way that contrasted directly with how loud the rest of the brat pack was. 

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if to starve off a headache. 

“Yes, Baby Byers?” He asked after a long, painful pause, turning to look at the saddest looking kid in the bunch. 

“Is there actually a D&D club at the high school?” 

The kid looked at Steve like he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, but was hopeful for the outcome he wanted anyway. 

It was the kind of thing that pulled even on Gareth’s heartstrings, and he was almost immune to anything involving giant, sad eyes after a solid year of working at the arcade. 

(Never mind Eddie’s own puppy dog looks.)

Steve’s voice gentled, in a way Gareth had never quite heard him use before. “There is. You’d love it, it’s called Hellfire. I’m sure it’ll still be there next year when you come in as a freshman.” 

He nudged him with his shoulder playfully, smiling when the younger boy perked up. “If you’re nice, Garebear here might even put in a good word for you.” 

“Garebear?” Max repeated with a burst of laughter, appearing behind Steve like a fucking ghost. “Oh my god.” 

“No.” Gareth said, bolting upright from his slouch as he stared at her in horror. “Do not call me that.” 

“Sure thing, Garebear.” She outright cackled, as Steve sent him a wide-eyed, apologetic face. 

“What did you just call Gary?” The sporty one--Lucas, asked, a wide grin overtaking his face. 

“I swear to God.” Gareth threatened, as Steve took another dramatic look over his shoulder. 

“Hey look Jonathan’s here!” He yelled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he started quickly walking backwards. “Come on, dipshits, we're leaving!” 

“Bye Garebear!” Lucas and Max sang together, following after him. 

“Harrington!” Gareth howled, as Steve mouthed ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder, all but bolting out the door. 

“I like Garebear a lot better than Gary.” Another, random child informed him with a grin as he sauntered past, arcade tickets in hand. 

Steve Harrington, Gareth decided, was a dead man. 

Not even Eddie’s fucking crush on the guy could save him now. 

xXx

“Did you know Harrington has a literal pack of kids he watches?” Gareth asked a few hours later, messing with his drum kit as he set up for band practice. "He even drives them around." 

More than that though--he’d seemed almost normal around them. That was the most Gareth had seen the guy banter or act relaxed since Eddie had dragged him over. 

“He’s mentioned it multiple times.” Grant replied, tuning his bass. “You have ears Gareth, use them.” 

“Gareth? Listen?” Jeff teased as he dragged an amp into the garage. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.” 

"Oh screw you guys.” Gareth growled, winging a drumstick toward his friends for the insult.

Grant, long used to Gareth's tantrums (and Eddie's dramatics)  didn't look up from his bass.

Not even when the drumstick hit the wall with a bang!-- allll the way near the opposite end of the couch, entirely opposite of either him or Jeff. 

"As usual, your aim is dead on." Jeff appraised sarcastically. 

"Like I'd ever actually hit you." Gareth grumbled with a pout. "I was gonna say the kids are older than I expected."

He reached down, blindly fishing for another drumstick from the bucket of them next to his kit. 

He came up empty. 

"Hey Grantman." Gareth asked, tone changing to something mildly embarrassed. "Could I uh, could I get the drumstick back?" 

He got a flat stare back. "No." 

"What did I do to get stuck with such dramatic friends?" Jeff joked as he began moving all the amps he’d pulled in back into their usual places. 

They hadn't had time to unload anything other than the drums after their last show and the regret was real. 

"Eddie’s been standing on tables since seventh grade, you knew what you were getting into." Gareth fired back, making grabby hands for his drumstick. 

"And you never grew out of being that dorky middle schooler who snuck into Hellfire games and screamed we were all going to die every time anyone made a bad play." Jeff shot back. "Yet here I am, once again wondering if I should just permanently confiscate Eddie's snacks, your drumsticks, and now Harrington's fricken spatula." 

"One year. I am one year younger than you and you act like it's an entire century!" Gareth muttered, as Grant relented and leaned over to fetch said drumstick. 

"We all know Eddie chucks food at people, but what'd Steve do with a spatula?"  Grant asked as he tossed it back to Gareth.

He missed and nearly took out a cymbal in the process. 

"He had a snit while we were making chocolate roulade cause it wouldn’t roll right. Flung the spatula around so much it splattered whip cream on his ceiling." Jeff shook his head as he finished hooking an amp up to his guitar. "I had to rescue it from him." 

"His ceiling?" Gareth said in disbelief. "Wait, you were in Harrington’s kitchen?" 

"Yeah?" Jeff looked up to find his friends staring at him. 

Grant blinked. "The fuck?" 

“Can we just play?” Jeff complained, just as embarrassed as Gareth had been.

“No.” Gareth said, retrieved drumstick nearly falling from his hands in shock. “You don’t get to casually drop that you went to Harrington’s house to help him bake and then try to get us to play right after!” 

Jeff, who had done exactly that, blushed, skin darkening as he fiddled with his guitar.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” He said finally with a shrug, as if this was something he did all the time and not the groundbreaking revelation that it was.

“Did you meet his parents?” Grant said, sitting up from the couch. “What did his house look like?”

Jeff finally gave up the pretense of playing his instrument.

“I didn't, and it was kinda sad, actually.” He said, as if he didn’t live for this kind of shit. 

Gareth knew better than anyone how much of a fricken gossip Jeff could be. 

“His house was enormous. I only saw the first floor, and his kitchen is huge.” He set his hands apart at a good distance, showcasing just how large “huge” was, before continuing. 

“But it was weird. It was like a model home. No pictures on the walls, no art, no personality to the place at all.” 

“What are we talking about?” Eddie asked, finally returning to Gareth’s garage from where he’d been gathering up all the wires they’d thrown haphazardly into his van. 

“Jeff went to Harrington’s house.” Grant and Gareth tattled as one. 

“To help bake stuff for this Friday!” Jeff defended, the blush creeping back onto his face. “I was curious about his chocolate roulade recipe and he invited me over!” 

“When was this?” Eddie asked, staring at Jeff like he’d grown a second head. 

Or more likely, Gareth knew, in jealousy. But he wasn’t going to call Eddie out on that just yet. 

“Yesterday. We got to talking about it in the parking lot after school.” Jeff said with an embarrassed shrug. “He said he wasn’t the best at explaining how to do things and that he’d rather show me instead.” 

“Kinky.” Grant deadpanned, making Jeff sputter. 

“You sure you didn’t see his bedroom, Jeff? It’s okay if you fell for the ‘wanna see my music collection’ line. We won’t judge you.” Gareth waggled his eyebrows, ducking with a laugh when Jeff went to whack him. 

“Shut up, we just made the chocolate roulade!” Jeff’s ears were red now, and huh, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only person with a crush.  

“Guys.” Eddie reprimanded, tone warning. 

“Sorry Eds, you know we don’t mean it.” Gareth soothed. Of course, his best friend's anger was less about the gay comments or Steve’s reputation as Hawkin’s man whore than it was about Steve fucking Jeff (and not Eddie) but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he pointed that out either. 

Eddie didn’t respond, eyes already back on Jeff. "Details, Jeffery, give us the details!"  

He dropped onto the couch, flapping his hands at Jeff in his version of a "sit down" gesture. 

Jeff sighed, but repeated what he'd just said for Eddie as he took a seat on the edge of an amp, placing his guitar down gently. 

 "I think Wayne was right. I don't think anyone else lives there but Steve. Not full-time anyway." He finished. 

Which sounded like the best fucking thing ever until Gareth thought about it for more than two seconds. 

Tried to imagine what his life would be like if his parents and siblings were gone. Not for a day, or even a weekend, but always. 

How silent his normally loud house would be. 

Thought instantly that he'd be inviting Eddie, his friends, and hell, l even Wayne, over as often as they could handle. 

"The way he looked when I showed up, and how quiet he got when I left I just…" Jeff fiddled with his guitar’s strap. "I think he's lonely." 

The four of them sat in silence for a long moment as they digested that. 

“Hargrove kicked his ass right? And Byers?” Grant said finally, breaking the silence ad he stared up at the ceiling. 

“Old news.” Eddie replied absently, jiggling his leg.

“You think his parents were around for that?” Grant continued, slowly.

No one answered outside of Eddie's leg loudly jiggling faster. 

 "Did you see the kids hug him or anything?"

"They're like thirteen. I seriously doubt they're pestering Steve for hugs." Gareth answered flatly.  

 "So he got his ass kicked, his parents are gone, he was supposed involved in that whole has leak thing…" Grant trailed off with an air of someone who expected the end of his sentence to be obvious. 

“You’re doing that thing again where you think what you’re saying is obvious and its fucking not.” Eddie grumped. "Just spit it out." 

His friend's head finally tipped back down from the ceiling, to face the rest of them. “Maybe the flinching is because no one ever touches him anymore unless it’s to kick his ass.” 

“Oh.” Eddie blinked, body going rigid. “Oh shit.” 

“That…would make sense. A lot of sense.” Jeff said slowly. 

Grant put on a face that read “Duh” loud and clear. 

“So what do we do about it?" Gareth asked after a moment. 

"Touch him, obviously." Grant replied, like he couldn't believe the drummer was even asking.

Gareth and Eddie shared a look while Eddie rolled his eyes.  

"The guy almost fell down the stairs last time I tried that." Gareth pointed out. 

Never mind any other time Steve got weird over the lightest of touches. Eddie couldn't even clap the guy on the shoulder without getting major side-eye. 

"No."  Eddie cut in, sitting up suddenly. His eyes had gone bright, "We're going to trick him into it." 

"We're going to trick Harrington into being okay with, what? Shoulder pats?"  Gareth echoed, like Eddie might hear himself if his words were repeated back to him. “You realize how stupid that sounds right?" 

"Shut up, listen. It's like getting a stray to trust you. You just gotta be calm and so obvious about it that they get confused and let it happen." Eddie had begun practically vibrating, causing his friends to trade uneasy glances. 

They knew that look. Eddie only got it when he thought up a plan that was going to cause problems. 

"Eddie, that makes zero sense." Jeff told him.

Gareth just shook his head, because only Eddie Munson could compare Hawkins golden boy with a fucking stray animal. 

Even if the guy kinda acted like one sometimes. 

"I just need an opening." Eddie continued, the little hamster wheel spinning in his head so fast the rest of the band could almost hear it. 

If Gareth had been told two months ago he was going to be sitting in his garage, discussing the best way to acclimate Steve Harrington to casual touch, he’d have actually smacked whatever idiot dared spew such nonsense with his drumsticks. 

"I did tell tell the kids today you were making him a D&D character." He said, before his best friend could truly go off on some half cocked plot. 

Eddie lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Gary, I could kiss you."

Gareth made a face. "Please don't."

He clapped hard before springing to his feet. "Huddle up boys, I've got a plan." 

"God help us all." Jeff muttered. 

(He huddled up anyway, any thoughts of playing guitar that night fully forgotten.) 

Bonus: 

"Why don't you just get high and watch a movie with Steve? You're a fucking cling-on when you're high." Gareth complained the next morning, when Eddie swung by to pick him up for school. 

Mostly because the plan Eddie had come up with was ridiculous.

 Eddie took both hands off the wheel, pressing them against his chest in mock offense while he stared at Gareth and not at the street. “That would be taking advantage of him and I, as a gentleman, would never." He gasped, dramatically. 

In his normal voice, he added: "Plus it doesn't count." 

“Eyes on the road!” Gareth yelped, swatting an arm. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that. People relax more when they're high and maybe Steve needs something like that as an excuse to allow it. Hell he doesn’t even need to be high, just you.”

Which Gareth personally thought was a very insightful thing to say, so of course he had to ruin it with; “or whatever.” 

"Do you recall how you kissed Jeff on the cheek when you were high and then spent the entire next month swearing up and down that you weren't attracted to men last summer?" 

"That was different. I was discovering myself." 

Eddie outright cackled. "Discovering yourself? What self help book did you pick that gem out of?"

"I was quoting you, you moron!" Gareth sputtered. 

"If I said anything like that then I was definitely high and it just proves my point. Steve would just be uncomfortable."Eddie stuck his tongue out. "So there." 

"Fine." Gareth sighed. "If we ever get high with Harrington, I'll sit in his lap."

Eddie's eye twitched. "No you will not."

Thrilled to have something to tease the elder metalhead about, a smile graced Gareth's face. "In fact, I'm calling dibs." 

"You can't call dibs on a lap! And besides, you don't even like him like that!" 

"So?" Gareth retorted. "It's a nice lap, looks comfortable. You don't want it, so I'll take it."

Eddie grit his teeth, grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. 

"I know what you're doing Gary. This is some bullshit reverse psychology shit and I will not be falling for it." 

"Oh contraire, this is sibling bullshit, Munson. You want it, so I want it." Gareth crossed his arms and looked at Eddie smugly. "And unless you do something about it, I'm getting it." 

"I hate you." 

Gareth grinned, delighted. "I know." 

#Gareth @ 15: LOOK AT THESE LITERAL BABIES! #The Party @ 13: SCREW YOU GARY U NERD #Steve is a mom in my head but he definitely has older brother vibes. #Like he's on that 'You can do stupid shit but only if I supervise' phase lol #I don't ship Gareth with Jeff but I can see him picking Jeff over Eddie as the Bi Test Run. #Pre steddie #hellfire adopts Steve #adopt a jock #steve harrington #Eddie Munson #hellfire club #Steve harrington whump #Sad Boy Hours Steve #0o0 fanfics #gareth emerson #jeff #grant #Next part is Eddie Munsons Ridiculous Oneshot

[calcium-makes-ur-bones-strong]

When he was still alive, Eddie Munson has a cat. She was a small thing with black fur, because if Eddie Munson was going to get a cat of course it was going to be black. And probably she was given a really metal name but it had been a long time since she'd been called anything and so that name had been lost to the wind.

They met by chance one day in the middle of a late autumn storm when she was just a kitten, and he just a boy. Eddie had spotted her, half dead amongst the orange leaves, dripping with rain water and halfway to death. He had taken her home, thought they barely had enough to feed two mouths and had taken care of her. Thrice a day, every day he fed her.

Until one day he didnt.

The cat often found herself missing Eddie. But life carried on even when you weren't fed. At first she had thought it to be like the long days or weeks when Eddie didn't get out of bed and Wayne has to feed her instead. But there was no one in Eddie's bed and Wayne had disappeared.

She found herself wandering often -as cats are known to do. And on one of these wanders, she was surprised. Surprised by the sight of a person sat, cross legged at the side of a dirty, empty pool in front of a house that even a cat could tell was far too big and lonely for just one person. He was nursing a near empty bottle of beer, gentle years fell down his face and gently plinked into the glass bottle. The cat wondered why he was crying but felt very strongly that he must have been crying about Eddie. Because Eddie was gone and she had not seen him in weeks. And maybe this time he'd really done it. And he'd be gone forever.

He was gone forever.

The cat knew that must be why he was crying because the cat could not fathom a reason anyone would be crying if not about Eddie.

And from a distance, she could almost swore the denim vest he wore -so like Eddie's vest- smelled like him.

#Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #Steddie #Fic (does this count as a fic??) Brought to you by me at ridiculous and quite frankly embarrassing time in the morning #Can you tell I miss my cat? #Sad Steve Harrington hours #Why did I write this #It's from the pov of a cat #what was i thinking #Anyway #i can't write #So it's probably shit #And also im half asleep

[stevethewhipped]

I’m a guy I can be insecure right?

Yes I know me and Eddie are together and yes we have a lot of babies and princesses but

I get insecure because; everyone either just wants both of us or just him..

It’s never just anyone wants me and only me .. ya know? Idk

I’m like a second decent man or something

I’m just being a dumb guy. I’ll go workout maybe I’ll feel better like a college kid🏋🏻🫤

“Choose me, love me”— grey’s Anatomy 

#no hard feelings #sad boy hours #am i kurt? #stevethewhipped #steddie rp #feeling insecure #eddie munson rp #steve harrington rp #choose me love me #greys anatomy

[duskdrawings]

Kind-Of Rant About ST Queerbaiting

I know it may seem silly to get so worked up over fictional characters and relationships but, honestly, this whole queerbaiting bullshit with volume 2 of Stranger Things season 4 has really thrown me. And it's not just a problem with this specific show by any means and I do love Stranger Things a lot and I always will - but I just feel that so much potential was lost and it could have been so much better.

I wasn't expecting all of our beloved gay ships to become canon and everyone to come out and ride down a rainbow together but we literally didn't get ANYTHING of substance (Besides some bare-bones last minute attempt with Vickie and Robin, which felt rather lazy to me, especially in comparison to all of the other pairings in the show that seemed to get plenty of airtime).

I've experienced plenty of queerbaiting in the past with other shows but after so much of it, it just gets to the point where I almost feel like, is this all we'll ever get? I feel like we deserve so much better than this. How wonderful could things have been if such a huge mainstream show really said "fuck the str8s for one second" and gave us Byler or Ronance or Steddie or even just a proper coming out scene for Will or Robin (as literally only Steve knows about her being gay) or someone else.

Why is it that a character could be so strongly implied to be gay but so many people still deny it and say it's wrong? (Heck, even after Robin literally saying she likes girls and NOT Steve, plenty of people STILL try and pair her up with Steve). Why do we always have to strongly justify gay pairings when so many straight pairings have been thrown together for literally no reason, besides the fact that they are a man and woman and know each other in some form. The amount of times I've sat through films and watched a man and a woman get together and have had NO IDEA why and the amount of times I've seen two people of the same gender have amazing chemistry and potential but then get sidelined for some straight coupling that came out of nowhere.

And why should we have to be happy and grateful for literal crumbs. The emotional scene with Will talking to Mike and basically saying how he felt about Mile but framing it as if this was El, I already know plenty of people will take that and say we are reaching, whilst others will say we should be happy that we even got that. Why should we be happy when a big chunk of the audience can't even tell that the meaning behind it was gay?

Also there's that whole "we need more healthy friendships between two guys/two girls", which I understand to a certain degree but also that's literally MOST of what we have anyway. Most shows revolve around the girls sticking together, the guys sticking together and anytime a girl or guy interact then they MUST want each other.

Whilst queer fictional characters don't HAVE to have a storyline surrounding them being queer, I just feel like there should be at least some kind of canon recognition of the fact that they are queer in some way? We shouldn't have to come out but with where we are at the moment, we still have a long way to go with representation and I feel like it's a bit different with fictional characters. It doesn't even have to be anything big and loud and ground-breaking, just give us SOMETHING. And when we do get something, there's always people saying that it wasn't necessary and questioning why we need LGBTQ+ representation? Which I don't even have the time to go into all the reasons why we clearly need it!

And I know people are saying that something could happen in season 5, but why must we always have to keep sticking around and just hoping that these writers will throw us a bone right at the end of their shows? Whenever we do get LGBTQ+ representation it often has to get thrown in right at the very end, so we often barely get to see much actually come of it, or the LGBTQ+ characters end up dying at the end anyway. Is it too much to ask to see a group of 80s outcasts being rainbowy together?

But my Ronance heart will forever stand strong, regardless of what the Duffer Brother's do! And it honestly makes me so happy and proud of our LGBTQ+ community to see everyone rallying together and wanting to create content to fix all the problems the show had, so our favourite characters and ships can thrive. Now that's truly something special! So, to end on a happier note, FUCK queerbaiting and all of your favourite characters are alive and LGBTQ+ and all of your favourite ships are canon! Why? Because we say so! 🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

#ronance #steddie #byler #it really is sad gay hours #queerbaiting #ao3 is going to save my little gay heart #i absolutely love the lgbt community so much #we are some creative people #seriously fanfic writers deserve the whole entire world #thankyou for keeping all of us fed with the good gay content #let will say gay #let robin say lesbian

[kermitscavern]

The John Hughes Blues

next -> first snippet of this WIP! find the first *three chapters on AO3 :)

(dw despite how the first paragraph may seem, Eddie is alive and well in this pic :) Steve is just dramatic)

Steve Harrington misses Eddie Munson. He misses the familiarity. He misses the easiness. He misses not needing to work hard, to worry and worry and worry. He’s so tired of worrying, of trying so hard. He’s so tired. Maybe that’s what it comes down to, at the end of the day. Maybe that’s why he misses him so much. Maybe he’s not “repressed,” like Robin had once teased him about. Maybe he doesn’t have a fear of abandonment, or fear of attachment, or whatever other fucked up phobia his distant parents had imbued in him. Maybe he isn’t soft, and he isn’t a pansy, maybe he’s just tired of trying so hard and he wants his friend back. Because being with Eddie was always easy, always carefree, and didn’t keep him on his toes or make him worry worry worry like watching the kids sometimes can, as much as he loves them. Being with Eddie was easy. And he misses him.

What makes it worse is that Eddie isn’t even gone—not really. Nothing has happened to him, he hasn’t moved away, they didn’t even have some terrible falling out, as far as Steve can recall. But Eddie’s gone. He won’t talk to him, will hardly catch his eye if they happen to meet, he’s even stopped coming to Family Video, which is the most surprising thing, really. He must be really dedicated to leaving Steve in the lurch. Eddie, as an oft-proclaimed cinephile, once told Steve his favorite thing about him was that he got the friends and family discount at the video store. Steve reminded him that Robin would probably give him the same discount. Eddie had winked and said, ‘Yeah, but it wouldn’t be the same.’

So Eddie’s not gone, he’s just ignoring Steve. Which would be fine, well, no it wouldn’t, but at least it would be reasonable if Eddie just told him why.If Steve fucked up, he would apologize, if Eddie wanted space, he would give it to him, if Eddie just got sick of him, it would suck, but it wouldn’t be the first time. At least he would be honest about it. If Eddie just told him why he was stuck in this state of eternal limbo, between wanting and not having, he would find a way to deal with it. But no. It’s all radio silence, poor Steve left calling the trailer, needling the kids after Hellfire, until he’s done it so many times he really just needs to take the hint. So he does. Or tries to, at least. He stops calling. Stops asking about Eddie. Stops asking Robin if he’s come in during her shifts, especially after she quips, ‘Are you always this annoying when you get your heart broken?’

That makes him pause. Heartbroken? Was that what he was feeling? They hadn’t been together, haha, so how could he be heartbroken? Had he felt this way after Nancy? Maybe to some extent, yes, the hollow feeling, the constant slew of what ifs berating his brain. But hell, at least Nancy had given him a reason, even if it was “bullshit.” Haha. At least she had given him an argument, a fight, anything at all. Eddie must really hate him now, because he hasn’t even given him that.

Sometimes he wonders if it’s heartbreak, or grieving. It felt like he had really, actually lost Eddie, his absence manifesting in the dip in the couch he had made by diving into it on so many evenings for beer and a movie. The empty dish Steve had put on his bedside table for Eddie’s rings when he stayed the night, so they would stop getting lost behind the furniture. In the collection of root beer cans in his fridge, because Steve hated them but Eddie loved them, and he hadn’t quite broken the habit of ordering one with his pizza. Maybe it was heartbreak, and Steve just didn’t want to admit it. Maybe it was waking up in an empty bed, because it hadn’t taken them long to start sharing the bed after Eddie complained about how sleeping on the couch made his neck ache, and it just made more sense. Steve had to give him that one— the couch, like most of the furniture in the house, had been picked out by his mother as something that sacrificed comfort for aesthetic because it wasn’t like she would be using it much anyway. Maybe it was Steve sleeping in the Judas Priest shirt he had left behind, and Eddie must have been truly cruel to leave him this last physical manifestation to cling to, ensuring he would never be able to give up and move on because he was constantly surrounded by Eddie Eddie Eddie.Maybe he did need to have that slightly uncomfortable conversation with himself.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #st fic #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #Steve in his feels :( #sad boi hours #kermits creations