Pretty wild how the show treats the teens and how it treats the kids. They can’t help but infantilize the kids, even when they’re not kids anymore.
Nancy/Jonathan/Steve are allowed to have flaws.
Nancy’s a brat in the first two episodes (Natalia’s delivery of “because Mikes friend gets lost in the woods” is so good). Jonathan is a creep. Steve is a douchebag. They fight each other, fight with each other, fuck each other, drink and smoke and drive cars.
The kids are the same age in season five as the teens were in season one and yet they’re allowed none of it. Even Dustin’s flaw is that he’s grieving TOO much. Which, lol. Nancy’s not a brat because she’s just TOO good, she’s a brat because she’s a spoiled 15-16 year old girl.
They really were like “nope these kids aren’t fucking.” Even though they should be fucking! They’re juniors in high school!
♡ ◟♪◝⊹ 𝓢𝑼𝑴𝑴 𓈒 when you and eddie go to the skating rink , everything is fine at first 𓈒 until you see a girl “flirting” with him while you’re busy getting drinks 𓈒 it doesn’t help when it seemed like eddie didn’t do anything to stop it 𓈒
੭﹕﹒ 𝓘𝑵𝑭𝑶 𓈒 never proofread 𓈒 rushed this out on my laptop 𓈒 jealousy 𓈒 big argument 𓈒 kinda gives off rom-com or sitcom vibes? 𓈒 eddie is lowk dumb 𓈒 reader is a little bratty 𓈒 ragebaiting each other fr 𓈒 typical young couple arguments 𓈒 slight angst 𓈒 eventual comfort 𓈒 eddie’s a sweetheart 𓈒 gift giving as a love language 𓈒 apology 𓈒 reassurance 𓈒 fluffy towards the end <3
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ☏ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝓟𝑯𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝓒𝑨𝑳𝑳 𓈒 ⅏ ring ring .ᐟ
you had been looking forward to this night ever since eddie passed you a note during class, interrupting your neat rows of english notes.
"skating rink. friday. you and me? :)" it read, scribbled in his chaotic, messy handwriting
after weeks of being buried under typical high school misery—endless homework, studying, and exams—this was your chance to finally breathe and spend time with him.
as the final bell echoed down the hallway, the classroom erupted into a frenzy of packing bags and shuffling feet. you shoved your notebook into your backpack, zipped it up, and looked up just in time to see eddie leaning against the doorframe, waiting for you.
he fell into step beside you the moment you crossed the threshold into the crowded hallway.
"so," eddie murmured, leaning down slightly so his shoulder brushed against yours. "i noticed you didn't throw my note back at me, which i’m taking as a legally binding agreement."
"oh, is that right?" you teased, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "i thought about it. my notes are very important though, eds. you disrupted my education."
eddie placed a dramatic hand over his heart, feigning offense. "disrupted? sweetheart, i am offering you an escape from the systemic prison of hawkins high. you should be thanking me."
"i’ll thank you if you can actually stay on two feet on friday," you laughed at his theatrics, nudging his side. "are you even good at skating, or am i gonna spend the whole night dragging you off the floor?"
eddie stopped walking for a fraction of a second, looping a finger through one of your backpack straps to gently tug you closer. his dark eyes danced with playful challenge. "first of all, i have impeccable balance. second of all, if i happen to fall, it’s just a strategic excuse to make you hold my hand." he gave a playful wink. "it’s all part of the master plan."
"smooth," you smiled, feeling a flush of warmth creep up your neck at the tug. "alright, munson. we’ll see if your skills live up to your mouth."
"oh, they're better," eddie said with a chuckle, giving you a kiss on the cheek as he dropped you off to your class. "much better. you aren't ready for it."
friday came, and eddie was definitely not better. not even a little. every time he skated, he careened into walls or clipped another skater, muttering a soft curse before offering a quick apology. you were having fun, though. you laughed at his efforts, helped him up, and tried to teach him how to actually roll without disaster. but it was no use. he was hopeless. even so, you still found him endearing, goofy as he was.
"jesus christ," eddie breathed, slumping against the wall like he'd just survived a war. "that was hell."
you giggled softly, still holding his arm. "it wasn't that bad."
he shot you a look. "i almost took out a grandma."
"she was quick on her feet."
"she was on rollerblades, sweetheart. which is crazy, by the way. who the hell—"
you laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "i’m gonna go get us some drinks, yeah? i’m a little out of breath too."
he perked up, already reaching for his wallet. "here."
you took the cash, letting your fingers brush his. "you trust me with your money?"
"sure i do. i trust you with my heart, so the cash is whatever."
you grinned, leaning in to kiss him properly. he met you halfway, soft and warm, his hand finding your waist for a brief second before you pulled away.
"don’t spend it all on gummy worms!" he called after you.
"no promises!" you shouted back, already heading for the snack stand.
the snack stand smelled like warm pretzels and cheap nacho cheese, and you were already rehearsing some stupid joke you’d give eddie when you handed him his drink—something cute, something that would make him roll his eyes and grin at you.
but when you turned back toward the rink, cup in each hand, the scene waiting for you knocked the air right out of your chest.
a girl—pretty, glossy-lipped, and entirely too comfortable—was standing in eddie’s space. she twirled a strand of her hair around her finger like she was auditioning for a teen drama, leaning in close enough that her perfume probably brushed his collar. eddie said something you couldn’t hear over the music, but whatever it was made her giggle, all breathy and delighted.
your stomach tightened.
then she touched him. just a light brush of her fingers along his arm, but eddie looked down at the gesture instead of stepping back or laughing it off. he didn’t look uncomfortable. he didn’t look confused. he looked… like he was letting it happen.
heat flared in your cheeks—jealousy, irritation, that dramatic little spark that always made you feel things too big and too fast. you stood frozen for a moment, drinks sweating in your hands, watching her lean in again, watching eddie say something else that made her smile like she’d won a prize.
you hated it. you hated her. you hated the way your chest pinched like someone had reached in and squeezed your heart with their fist.
and you hated that eddie wasn’t stopping it.
your jaw tightened. fine. whatever. if he wanted to stand there and let some roller-rink barbie paw at him, then he could do that. you didn’t need to stand there like an idiot and watch it.
you spun on your heel, dramatic enough that your hair whipped behind you, and marched away from the snack stand. you didn’t wait to see the rest—didn’t stay long enough to notice the way eddie’s brows pulled together, or the way he gently stepped back from the girl, or the way he looked over at you with a confused little frown.
you were already gone, too busy nursing your jealousy and your bruised pride to realize the whole thing wasn’t what it looked like.
you returned to the table with two sweating paper cups and a storm brewing behind your ribs. the girl was gone—vanished like she’d never existed—but the image of her leaning into eddie was still burned into your eyelids. you set his drink down in front of him with a quiet little thud, far gentler than the mood you were actually in.
eddie took it with an easy smile, completely oblivious. he took a sip, eyes widening a little. "shit, that's refreshing."
you didn’t answer right away. you were too busy pretending the condensation on your own cup was suddenly fascinating. he tried again, nodding toward yours. "how’s yours?"
you shrugged, clipped and dismissive. "fine."
you didn’t look at him. you looked at the disco lights, the rental counter, the stupid carpet with neon swirls—anywhere but his face. your jaw was tight enough to crack a tooth.
eddie’s smile faltered. his eyes narrowed just slightly, confusion knitting his brows. he wasn’t used to you being quiet. you were usually so expressive and always tugging at his sleeve or nudging his shoulder. this… cold little shrug was foreign.
"alright…" he said slowly, testing the word like it might bite him. he took another sip, but his eyes stayed on you. inside, he was panicking—quietly, subtly, the way eddie always did. he replayed the last ten minutes in his head, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. had he said something weird? missed something? did he forget something important?
"you okay?" he finally asked, voice soft, careful.
you nodded without looking at him. "mhm. yeah. i’m getting a little tired, though."
"tired? what? it’s only 8:30—"
"can you just take me home?” you cut in, sharp and fast, like you couldn’t stand another second in the rink. or another second watching him talk to someone else.
eddie blinked at you. really looked at you. the tight shoulders, the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes, the way your fingers were clenched around your drink like you wanted to crush the cup. something was wrong. very wrong. and he had no idea what it was.
but he nodded anyway, gentle and worried. "alright. yeah. okay."
he stood, grabbing his jacket, still glancing at you like he was trying to read a language he’d never seen before. you didn’t notice—too busy nursing your jealousy, your irritation, your dramatic little ache—too busy being hurt to realize he’d been confused by that girl, not charmed.
too busy looking away to see the truth.
the tension in the van pressed between you and eddie, thick and suffocating, like the air itself was waiting for one of you to snap.
you kept your eyes glued to the window, jaw tight, arms crossed so hard it almost hurt. you refused to look at him. refused to give him even a sliver of softness. your jealousy was too loud, too hot, too humiliating to let you do anything else.
eddie kept glancing over, his frustration building with every second of silence. he wasn’t used to this version of you. you were usually all noise and spark and attitude—never this cold, never this distant.
finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.
"are you sure you’re okay? did i do something?"
you scoffed, sharp and mean. "i don’t know. did you?"
his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "i don’t think i did? i mean—what’s the deal? we had a good night after not seeing each other for a while and now you’re mad at me?"
you didn’t look at him. "i’m not mad."
"you’re something,” he shot back, voice rising. "you’re acting like i ran over your dog."
"forget it."
"no," eddie snapped, louder now. "i’m not forgetting it. you’re being weird and cold and you won’t even tell me why."
you rolled your eyes, heat flaring in your chest. "you wouldn’t get it."
"try me."
you inhaled sharply, anger bubbling up. "you just—" you cut yourself off, refusing to say it. refusing to admit you were jealous over something he probably didn’t even notice.
eddie waited. when you didn’t continue, he threw his hands up. "oh my god, you’re killing me. just say it."
fine. if he wanted a fight, you could give him one.
"you’re always like this," you snapped. "you act clueless every time some girl is all over you."
eddie blinked. "what girl?"
you ignored the question, too stubborn to bring up the one from tonight. "like at the hideout. those girls who stare at you like you’re some rockstar. or—or that girl you sold to in the woods. you didn’t think that was weird?"
eddie stared at you, baffled. "what does that have to do with anything?"
"it’s the same thing!” you exploded, finally turning toward him. "you just let girls get close to you and you don’t even notice! you don’t even care!"
eddie’s frustration snapped clean in half. "because i'm not interested in them!"
"well, it doesn’t look like that!"
he let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "so i’m supposed to what? be rude to every girl who talks to me? just in case you get jealous?"
you glared at him, cheeks burning. "maybe don’t look so comfortable when they do."
"i wasn’t comfortable!” he snapped. "i'm always confused when girls talk to me because i don’t want them! i just want—"
he cut himself off, biting the rest back, too angry to say it.
you crossed your arms tighter. "whatever."
"no, not 'whatever.' you’re being ridiculous."
your head snapped toward him. "excuse me?"
"you heard me," eddie said, voice sharp. "you’re mad at me for something i didn’t even do. you’re mad at me for things that happened months ago. you’re mad at me for girls i don’t even remember."
you scoffed. "oh, of course you don’t remember."
"because they don’t matter!” he shouted. "they never mattered!"
you looked away, throat tight, refusing to let the words hit you the way they wanted to.
eddie shook his head, jaw clenched. "i swear, sometimes it feels like you’re looking for reasons to be pissed at me."
you whipped around, absolutely furious. "i'm not—"
"you are," he cut in. "and i'm tired of guessing what i did wrong every time you get jealous over nothing.”
your chest burned, your pride stung, your anger spiked. "if you think it’s 'nothing,' then maybe you don’t get me as well as you think you do."
eddie’s jaw tightened. "maybe i don’t."
the words hit the air like a slammed door.
you stared out the window again, refusing to let him see how much that hurt. he stared at the road, refusing to look at you at all.
you knew the argument wouldn't cool off. it'd escalate—fast, messy, and loud in that cramped van that suddenly felt way too small for the two of you.
eddie's fingers drummed anxiously on the steering wheel, jaw tight, eyes flicking between the road and your stubborn profile. he exhaled sharply, frustration boiling over.
"god, this is so stupid. shit, man, if you were gonna be pissed at me tonight—"
your head snapped toward him so fast he actually flinched. "oh, fuck you! so this whole thing is my fault?!"
eddie's eyes widened, then narrowed. "i didn't say that."
"you implied it!"
"i didn't—"
"you did!" you snapped. "you're acting like i woke up and decided to ruin our night for fun!"
eddie scoffed, incredulous. "well, that's kinda what it feels like!"
your jaw dropped. "wow. amazing. fantastic. glad to know you think i'm just—what? dramatic for no reason?"
he shot you a look. "you are dramatic for no reason right now!"
you gasped, genuinely offended. "oh my god, eddie!"
"what?!" he snapped. "you're mad at me for stuff that didn't even happen tonight!"
"it's not just tonight—"
eddie threw his hands up. "here we go."
you let out a sound that sounded like half-sigh and half-groan. "you act like you don't know why i get jealous, but you're always telling me these stories—girls at your shows, girls buying from you, girls talking to you—"
"that's not my fault!" eddie shot back. "i can't control who talks to me!"
"you could at least act like you don't like it!"
"i don't like it!"
"then why don't you ever look uncomfortable?!"
"i do!" eddie yelled, his voice cracking with frustration. "i'm uncomfortable all the damn time! i just—i don't know how to show it, okay?!"
you scoffed. "oh, convenient."
eddie’s grip tightened on the wheel. "you’re being unfair."
"oh, i'm being unfair?" you repeated, mocking his tone. "i'm sorry i don't love hearing about you hanging out with random girls in the woods!"
"that was one time!" eddie shouted. "and she was literally buying weed!"
"still weird!"
"not my fault!"
"you could've said no!"
"to selling weed?!"
"oh my god, you know what i mean!"
"no, i really don't!" eddie snapped. "because you're mad at me for things i didn't even do, didn't want, didn't ask for, and didn't even notice!"
you glared at him, cheeks burning. "exactly. you never notice."
eddie's voice dropped, low and hurt. "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
you looked away, stubborn and furious. "forget it."
"no," eddie said, voice rising again. "say it."
"i said forget it!"
"why? because you know it's bullshit?"
you whipped around, eyes blazing. "you are such an asshole sometimes!"
eddie's mouth fell open. "i'm the asshole?!"
"yes!"
"for what?!"
"for acting like i'm crazy!"
"i didn't say you were crazy"
"you're treating me like i am."
eddie let out a harsh, frustrated laugh, "i'm treating you like someone who's mad at me for no reason!"
"there is a reason!"
"then say it!"
"i don't want to!"
"why?!"
"because you'll think it's stupid!"
eddie slammed his palm lightly against the steering wheel. "i already think this is stupid!"
you gasped again, offended beyond belief. "wow. wow. you're unbelievable."
"you're dumb."
"you're clueless."
"you're crazy."
you froze, eyes narrowing. "say that again."
eddie didn't back down. "you're crazy."
you stared at him, furious, humiliated, defensive. "i'm not."
"you are."
"i'm not!"
"you are!" eddie snapped. "and instead of talking to me like a normal person, you shut down and act like i did something horrible!"
you turned away, arms crossed so tight your shoulders ached. "whatever."
eddie shook his head, exasperated.
you didn't look at him. didn't soften.
and eddie didn't try to fix it this time. he didn't reach for your hand or try to joke or apologize for something he didn't do.
he just drove. jaw tight. eyes forward. hands gripping the wheel.
eddie pulled into your driveway with the same tight, miserable silence that had filled the van for the last ten minutes. the headlights washed over the front of your house, but neither of you moved. neither of you spoke.
he put the van in park and muttered something—maybe "we're here," maybe "goodnight," maybe just a frustrated exhale shaped into a word. whatever it was, you didn't care enough to decipher it. you were still too pissed off, too embarrassed, too wrapped up in your own jealousy to give him anything back.
you grabbed the door handle, ready to bolt out without another word.
but then the bitterness in your chest twisted, and you couldn't stop yourself—you had to get one last jab in.
you turned just enough to throw it over your shoulder.
"hope your little roller-rink girlfriend says hi sometime."
eddie blinked, stunned. "what—?"
but you were already out of the van, slamming the door harder than necessary, stomping up the walkway without looking back. you didn't want to see his face. didn't want to see him confused or annoyed or—god forbid—amused. you just wanted to get inside and bury yourself under the covers and pretend tonight never happened.
eddie watched you go, jaw slack, eyebrows drawn together in a baffled knot.
"roller-rink girlfriend?" he muttered to himself, scoffing. "what the hell is she talking about?"
he shook his head, running a hand through his hair, still irritated, still confused. he replayed the night in his mind—your cold shoulder, your clipped answers, the fight, the way you refused to tell him what was wrong. and now... that comment.
he leaned back in his seat, staring at your front door like it might give him answers.
then—slowly—something clicked.
his eyes widened. his mouth parted.
he froze.
"oh... oh, shit."
he slumped forward, resting his forehead against the steering wheel as the realization hit him like a brick.
she thought that girl was flirting with me. fuck, and she thinks i let it happen!
he groaned, long and miserable, because now that he thought about it... yeah. he could see how it looked. the girl leaning in, giggling, touching his arm. you watching from across the rink. you being cold right after.
he sat back again, rubbing his face with both hands. he hadn't even gotten the chance to tell you the truth—that the girl was a lesbian. that she had a girlfriend who was into metal and wanted to get her a jacket like his. that she touched his arm because she was pointing at the patches. that she was literally asking where he bought his clothes.
he hadn't flirted. he hadn't encouraged anything. he hadn't even understood why she was talking to him until she mentioned her girlfriend.
but you didn't know that.
and he hadn't told you.
and now you were inside your house, probably fuming, probably thinking he'd betrayed you somehow.
he groaned again at the thought.
he needed to fix this.
rain hammered the roof of the van like it was trying to push through, but eddie barely noticed. his heart was pounding too loud, his nerves stretched too thin. it had been days of you ignoring him—days of you walking past him in the hallway like he was invisible, days of you tossing his notes aside in class without even glancing at them, days of pretending he didn't exist.
any other guy would've given up. but eddie wasn't built for being ignored by you.
so he'd snapped. he'd grabbed the biggest bouquet he could find at the grocery store, half-wilted but colorful, and drove straight to your house in the middle of a downpour.
he didn't even bother with an umbrella.
he sprinted across your yard, rain soaking through his jacket, his jeans, his hair plastered to his forehead. by the time he reached your window, he looked like he'd climbed out of a lake.
still, he knocked softly. he hoped you were still awake.
to his relief, you pulled the curtains aside, your eyes widening the second you saw him.
"eddie?! what the hell—it's pouring!"
he grinned, breathless and soaked, curls dripping down his cheeks. "yeah, so let me in! i got you something!"
you stared at him like he'd lost his mind. but you pushed the window open anyway, and a gust of cold rain blew inside, splattering your floor.
"eddie, you're drenched," you scolded, grabbing his arm to help him inside. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"
he didn't answer right away. he just held out the bouquet—bright reds, soft pinks, messy greens, all tied together with a crooked ribbon he'd fixed three times in the van.
his hands were shaking from the cold.
"needed to see you," he said simply.
you froze, bouquet halfway between you and him. the flowers dripped rainwater onto your carpet, but you didn't care. you were too busy staring at him—at his soaked clothes, at the way his chest rose and fell like he'd run a marathon, at the way his eyes were soft and pleading.
he looked so determined.
you swallowed hard, anger flickering but not quite gone. "eddie... you're soaked." you repeated.
he shrugged, trying to play it off even though he was visibly shivering. "yeah. kinda figured that out on the way over."
you rolled your eyes, but your voice softened despite yourself. "you're so stupid."
"maybe," he said, stepping closer, water dripping off him in little rivulets. "but you weren't answering my calls. or my notes. or looking at me. or—anything."
you looked away, clutching the bouquet a little tighter.
eddie's voice dropped, quieter. "i couldn't take it anymore."
you didn't respond. you didn't trust yourself to.
he took a shaky breath. you couldn’t decipher if it came from a place of hurt or the cold. "look, i know you're still mad. i know i messed up. i know i should've told you about the girl at the rink right away."
your jaw tightened, but you didn't interrupt.
"she wasn't flirting," eddie continued, desperate to get the words out before you could shut down again. "i know it looked like it. she was real bubbly, but anyway. she's gay. she had a girlfriend who was into metal and she wanted to know where i got my patches. that's why she touched my arm—she was pointing at the jacket."
you blinked, stunned.
eddie kept going, voice softening. "i swear, i wasn't flirting. i didn't even understand what she wanted at first. and then you were gone, and i didn't get to explain, and you were just—hurt. and i hate that. i hate that i made you feel like that."
you stared at him, bouquet trembling slightly in your hands.
he kept talking, words tumbling out in a rush, desperate and sincere. "i need you to hear me now. really hear me."
he waited until your eyes met his. "none of those girls—none of them—mean anything to me."
your eyes softened, but you didn't interrupt.
"i don't want them," he said, shaking his head despite the droplets falling from his hair. "not the girls at the hideout, not the ones who buy from me, not the one at the rink. i swear, i wasn't flirting. i wasn't interested. i wasn't anything."
he took another step, close enough that you could feel the cold radiating off him.
"i just want you."
your fingers tightened around the bouquet.
eddie's voice softened. "you're my girl. even when you're stubborn. even when you're difficult. even when you're giving me attitude and ignoring me for days."
you looked away, cheeks warming despite yourself.
"i don't care how dramatic you get. i don't care how jealous you get. i don't care how mad at you get at me."
his eyes locked onto yours, unwavering. "you're my girl. that's it. that's all i want."
eddie stood there dripping your floor, clutching his jacket, shivering but hopeful, waiting for you to say something—anything—that meant he hadn't lost you.
and for the first time in days, your anger didn't feel quite so loud.
you didn't even realize you were moving until your arms were already around his neck.
eddie froze for half a second—surprised, breath catching, eyes wide—before the relief washed over his face so clearly. his shoulders dropped, tension melting away, and a soft, shaky smile tugged at his lips.
"i'm gonna get you all wet," he murmured, still stiff, still not hugging you back yet, like he was afraid he might break the moment if he moved too fast.
"i don't care," you whispered into his shoulder, voice small but sure.
that was all it took. eddie's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in despite the water dripping from his jacket and hair. his breath warmed your ear, his chest pressed against yours, and for the first time since the roller rink, everything felt right again.
you pulled back just enough to look at him, bouquet still clutched awkwardly between you. "you're so sweet," you said softly, cheeks warm. "and... thank you. for the flowers."
he shrugged, trying to play it cool even though his eyes gave him away. "don't mention it. least i could do."
"yeah, but not in the rain!" you huffed, brushing a wet curl off his forehead. "you could get sick, eds."
he chuckled, low and warm. "well, i had to do what i had to do to get my girl back."
before you could even respond, eddie cupped your cheek—his hand cold from the rain, but gentle—and kissed you. deep and full of every apology he'd been trying to give you for days. you melted into it, giggling softly against his lips when he pulled you closer, bouquet squished between you both. he laughed too, forehead resting against yours, breath warm and shaky.
you stayed close to him for a moment longer, bouquet pressed to your chest, his cold breath brushing your cheek. eddie searched your face like he needed to see the answer written there.
"so... we're okay?" he asked softly, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.
"yeah," you murmured, thumb sweeping a raindrop from his temple. "we're okay."
you leaned in and kissed his cheek—gentle, lingering, warm against his cold skin—before stepping back. you held the bouquet carefully, admiring the messy bouquet he'd clearly agonized over.
"i'm gonna go find a vase for these." you said, turning toward your bedroom door.
eddie raised an eyebrow, watching you move. "aren't your parents home?"
you shook your head. "nah. they went on a trip. they'll be back by monday, probably."
he nodded, pushing his wet curls out of his face. you glanced back at him, taking in the soaked jacket, the dripping jeans, the way his shirt clung to him.
"you can take a shower, eds," you said with a shrug. "i have some of your clothes here anyway. maybe we can watch a movie afterwards, if you want. i know you like evil dead a lot."
eddie's grin widened, eyes bright with the kind of happiness he'd been missing all week.
