Do we really know Steve isn't into metal though? He definitely likes rock, and I love the HCs where he just doesn't know who he's listening to half the time which would gel with the "Ozzy who?" moment.
Eddie fully expecting the standard Normie reaction to his music the one time he's "permitted" to play his own cassettes in Steve's car, Steve looking puzzled as he listens before shrugging and carrying on driving.
It's not a negative reaction, +1 for Harrington apparently, but as they drive he keeps getting that little puzzled look on his face, and Eddie's starting to suspect Steve is fighting the urge to be a bitch about it, he's heard about his "trying" from the others.
He's not going to back down if Steve picks a fight over it, Eddie will defend his music to the death if he has to, so he's ready to bite back when Steve finally opens his mouth.
"Is this a new one?" not what he was expecting,
"huh?"
"The tape, is it a new one? I swear I know the voice but... I don't know the songs, is it new?"
"You've heard Black Sabbath before?"
"Is this that Ozzy guy then?" it's not, it's Ronnie James Dio, but that Steve remembered that is Interesting, that he recognises the music is more interesting.
"What songs do you know?" he asks, suspicious, Steve must be bullshitting him, there's no way.
"I dunno... that uh... one that—" he stops and starts 'da-na-na-na'ing Stargazer of all things,
Post-Starcourt Stobin, who don't want to explain where their injuries came from to paramedics, decide to leave but also like, they need medical attention.
Robin got a cut on her knee during the final battle that won't stop bleeding and Steve is just...broken.
"Awe, don't say that," Steve complains with blood pouring down his chin from his reopened split lip. "I'm just..."
"Tired," Robin finishes for him when Steve trails off. He's doing that with frequency now. Robin thinks his injuries might be worse than he's admitting so, "Let's rest."
Robin's not sure where they're at but Steve says they're halfway to his house so, a little rest is fine.
She finds a door that's unlocked and a house that's empty, and that feels like a good enough reason to enter it and - "Find the first aid kit. I'll patch up your knee."
"On it."
Steve slowly sits down and Robin disappears down the hall. She scrubs off as much grim as she can in the bathroom sink, returns with the first aid kit, and joins him on the couch when the door opens and -
"...What's happening here?"
"We're...." Steve starts, stalls, picks back up to say "intruders" at the same time Robin blurts out, "Your friends! Here for the surprise part - did you say intruders?"
"What?" Steve, who definitely did, responds. "No. Why would I say that? I-"
"Hey," Eddie Munson cuts in. "What the fuck are you doing in my house and why do you look like roadkill?"
First of all, "Rude."
"To roadkill, maybe," Eddie crosses his arms. "Again, I’m asking-"
Second of all...
"Dude, shut up," Steve snaps at him. "I'm tired and everything hurts, and you're fucking loud. I’m trying to concentrate."
Eddie gives him a condescending gesture to continue but it's pretty clear that Steve doesn't remember what he was trying to do.
Robin jumps in to take over but..."What are we doing?"
Steve sounds so tired when he says, "I don't know."
"Eddie," She says, feeling the night hit her all at once and finally.
Finally, asking the one thing she's wanted since they fell down that elevator shaft, "Help us, please?"
Steve casually saying that it's super easy to make friends and Eddie loudly cutting in to ask why Steve doesn't have any friends then, "You eat lunch in your car ever since Wheeler dumped you for Byers."
This not only embarrassed Steve but also pissed him off so he's now dedicating himself to befriending all of Eddie's friend and turning them against him.
Mary Harrington finally gives up one day, boards a plane home alone knowing that her husband is likely already in bed with a woman ten years younger than her. For the first time in her life, she doesn't feel hurt. Only mildly disgusted, maybe with herself too.
She arrives in Hawkins to ruins that are slowly getting rebuilt, smoke almost cleared, and weird whispers about her son and his new friend, the trailer trash Eddie Munson. Something about being too close, too intimate for two men. She feels the familiar disdain, the words "what would your father think" - and then exhales and lets them go. She is past caring about Richard Harrington.
Instead, she sits down with them. She is honest, she was in love once and she knows those eyes - Steve's look like her own, after all. Behind the adoration, she sees the darkness in Steve's face, the pain, and thinks - I couldn't fix my husband, but I can fix this. She gently asks them both if anyone has been giving them trouble. When she hears several familiar names of local God-fearing women, she laughs for the first time in what feels like forever. "Leave them to me," she says.
She stops by for coffee. Chats a little. Gently opens the topic of the rumors about her son. And then: "I understand, Linda. Homosexuality is a sin. What a funny thing, one could say the same about fucking my husband last spring. Of course, it's been so long...I'm sure your husband knows?" One by one, the rumors quiet down and Mary's smile grows into its old radiance.
The first evening back, she summons all the remaining rage, disappointment and sadness over wasted years, poking at old wounds until she's sobbing. And like that, she calls Richard and wails into the phone how everything is destroyed, their house almost gone, and gently guides Richard to the brilliant idea of signing over the small flat in the center he's been renting to Steve. She knows Richard has no patience for her emotions, and she sobs out how Steve has been fixing the town, how he'd become everything Richard had ever wanted, a true pillar of the community, but he has nowhere to sleep, oh how it's breaking her heart, what would the town think-
He promises to send over his lawyer the next day. She thanks him through the tears, says one last "I love you" and with the click of the ended call, dries her tears and pours herself a glass of wine. "How did I do?" she asks.
Steve just laughs and hands her a cheese plate he's been preparing in the kitchen. He nudges Eddie who is staring with wide eyes. "What?" asks Steve with a smirk. "You've always admired my bitchiness and pragmatism. Where do you think I got it from?"
The flat is signed over the next day. Mary kisses her son and Eddie goodbye - she would go back to her parents for a while, she says, just to get the divorce finalized. Plus, one of her old friends still seems interested, her being the one that got away and all that, and Mary intends to test that theory. She will keep in touch, she says. And for the first time, Steve believes her.
so what if one time while Dustin was staying back a bit late at hellfire to help clean up because his momma raised him right, he's about to leave when Eddie stops him,
"Hey, idiot don't forget your dice." and he tosses the pouch at Dustin, who barely catches it because he's an unathletic loser. He scoffs and smiles anyway, "Thanks dad."
Before Eddie can process that, Dustin walks out, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd even said the D-word. Eddie stands there for way longer than he should, circling through pride, affection, and offense because he is NOT old enough to be a father!
A few weeks go by, Eddie pretty much forgets about it and chooses not to bring it up, because despite what everyone thinks, he isn't the biggest douchebag in the word. (He still is one of course but not the biggest!) Eddie forgets about it until another hellfire session is over, but Dustin took a little too long, and Steve Harrington comes marching into the school.
"Dude, I told you to be quick today! I promised Max and Lucas I'd take them to the movies!" The perfectly styled brunette started to scold, Eddie found himself a little hot under the collar as he glanced between Dustin and his much taller, much more attractive friend.
Dustin rolled his eyes, "Okay, okay, jesus, you're such a nag, mom." He added the "mom" mockingly, Harrington didn't even bristle. "I'm flattered to be compared to your mother, now move your ass." He demanded, dragging Dustin away by his bag.
Eddie was once again, stuck standing there for a little longer than he should've, before his feet were suddenly moving and he burst into the parking lot and luckily, somehow, Harrington and Dustin weren't in their cars yet.
"Henderson called me dad once!" He shouted over at them, a little out of breath. "If you're his mother I think I owe you a date! Or at least child support!" He called, giving Harrington a sharp grin even though a part of him was horrified at his own actions.
Dustin looked ten times more horrified than Eddie felt, but Steve just turned, glanced Eddie over, and paused. "That can be arranged." He smirked a little before getting in his car, Dustin followed, and even over the engine starting Eddie could hear the kid screeching about dignity or something.
They drove away but Eddie's heart was pounding louder than them turning out of the parking lot.
It's all laughs and jokes when Eddie's uncle is obsessed with Steve Harrington. How's it feel when your mom unpromptedly asks you about him, Gareth? Do you love it, Gareth? Your step-dad canceled plans with you because Steve Harrington's BMW is having issues, Jeff? Did that make you laugh, Jeff???
Eddie is not dumb enough and he respects Wayne too much to sell drugs out of his living room.
Despite this, Steve Harrington keeps showing up at his door to buy. He always insists that Eddie roll his joints and then insists they smoke one together so he knows Eddie isn't trying to sell him oregano or some shit.
They smoke. Steve gets too high. And then Steve accused him of wanting him to die in a car accident when Eddie tried to get him to leave, "I’m under the influence and you want me to operate a motor vehicle? You want me to kill myself? Kill me yourself if you want me to die so bad."
"I don't want-"
"Can't believe you want me to die. You-"
"Fine!" Eddie says like he says every time. "You can stay until you're sober. Christ."
"Okay."
Steve immediately gets up, walks down the hall, and face plants into Eddie's bed where he will be until he disappears in the morning.
the question of fic comments is very straightforward actually. readers do not owe writers comments. writers do not owe readers fic. there is no bargain, no transaction, no debt.
fic is a gift. comments are a gift. gifts are exchanged between friends, out of love, not out of obligation.
I write for myself. I post it for others, as a gift, because their joy brings me joy. I read for myself. I comment for the author, as a gift, because their joy brings me joy. perhaps we were not friends before, but we are now, however fleetingly, because we have given each other gifts out of love.
When I reblog posts about commenting on fics, I don't mean "comment because you have to", I mean "there are too many people who just don't think about commenting when they finish a fic they loved, if it's a fic you could comment on, don't forget or hesitate."
Carol drags her felt-tip marker from one mole to another, and then down the curve of Steve's cheek to the dots on his neck.
She thinks about it.
They're only five but Carol had a lot of opinions. It makes it easy for her to conclude, "No."
Steve slumps.
"That's okay though," She decides. "My mom doesn't like my sister very much either."
"No one likes Cathy, Carol."
Steve slumps even more until he's lying on his back on her bedroom's pink carpet. Carol follows the movement, hovering over him as she connects more freckles together.
"My mom doesn't like Cathy but she loves her," She says. The statement hangs in the air just long enough for it to hurt when she adds, "Your mom and dad don't love you either."
The hurt is instantaneous.
It hits numb at first. Icing him to the veins and then exploding in the center of his chest. It feels like a knife. It feels like he suddenly can't breathe.
He has to move.
He sits up suddenly.
Carol doesn’t move back fast enough and - "Ow! You hit me!"
"Wha- no, I didn't!"
"Yes, you did!" She accuses, hand to her forehead. "You hit me with your big head!"
"You - you hit me first," Steve shoots back. "You hit me with words. You hurt my feeling."
"I didn't hurt your feeling. I told the truth. Maybe you're just a baby."
"Maybe you're not my friend."
Carol gasps and then turns towards her bedroom door and wails, "Mommy! Mommy, come here. Steve hit me!"
Steve gasps this time.
"You're going to get in trouble now," Carol taunts. "You should've been nice to me."
Steve has a split second.
He decided to meet Carol right where she's at and burst into tears when Mrs Perkins walks through the door.
He sobs about Carol being mean and about her drawing on his face, and he's going to get in trouble at home and - and -
They both end up in time out.
Sitting on opposite ends of the couch, Carol stretches her legs into the space between them until she can nudge Steve with her foot, "Psst."
"What?"
"You're really good at fake crying."
"So are you."
"Thanks," She says. "...It's okay that your mom and dad don't love you 'cause I love you. You're my best friend."
Steve still wants his parents to love him but, "I love you too."
“How else do you think I got those?” Eddie points to the bats on his arms.
“You did them yourself?”
“Some of them, yeah.” Eddie lowers the collar of his shirt to show the upper part of his left chest, where a weird looking floating head stared with devil eyes. “A friend draw this one. Sick, right?”
“... How many do you have?”
“Not enough. I want to cover my entire arms one day.”
Eddie shows his arms and Steve pretends to pay attention at the detailed drawing he describes.
“Will you give me one?” He suddenly says.
Eddie looks up in surprise, his smile frozen at his face.
“You know this is permanent, right?”
“No shit.”
“I just thought- Your dad won't like it if-”
“Just give me somewhere he can't find it.”
“... Where?”
Steve thinks about it for a second. He grabs the waistband of his pants and pulls them down a little, showing the skin under his stomach.
Eddie's pale face turns pink. He stares at the path the hair traced, his throat going dry.
“Maybe here?” Steve asks, strangely normal about all of this. “He won't see it here.”
“Hm.” Eddie swallows hard. “No, I... I don't think he will.”
Steve arches his eyebrows.
“So?”
Eddie looks up at his face, even more nervous to know Steve caught him staring.
“What? Like- Now?”
“Do you have anything else to do?”
Eddie rolls his eyes and smiles over that snob attitude.
“Sit down, princess.”
Steve obeys, sitting down at the uncomfortable couch like he owns the place. Eddie studies his position, thinking what would be the best way to do it.
He shrugs and sighs. Fuck it.
Eddie picks up a cushion, throws it on the floor and kneels on it, placing himself in front of Steve’s open legs, facing his bare stomach, watching his hands hold the waistband down…
Fucking hell.
“What’s going to be?” Eddie asks, cleaning Steve’s skin.
Steve’s expression doesn't change. He looks at Eddie with such foundness…
“You pick. I trust you.”
Thank Satan Eddie was already kneeling.
Eddie picks up the tattoo gun. A mischievous smile shows up on his face.
“How funny would it be if I draw a dick right now?”
Steve deadpans.
“I will kill you.”
Eddie laughs.
“Ok, ok.” He thinks for a second. “But you can’t look.”
“It's my body.”
“Not right now.” Eddie puts his free hand on Steve's hips. “I'm in charge. So stay still and don't look.”
Steve, upon falling in love with Eddie, almost immediately becomes Wayne's emergency contact. It's not that Wayne doesn't trust Eddie. He does. He's a great kid, an excellent person. He just also has a tendency to...not be where you need him. And that's fine most of the time. Kid gets stuff done, always helps pay the rent, does his chores all that.
But. Wayne's not getting any younger and he's still working despite Steve's attempts to get him to hang up the old toolbelt. He's probably right but Wayne isn't ready. Can't imagine all that empty time.
And his Harrington boy? He's there every weekend, checking fixtures and changing lightbulbs. Cooking meals to store in Wayne's freezer even though he insists he's got enough food in there to last him through the apocalypse. He mother hen's over Eddie too, making sure he sleeps enough, eats a vegetable or two. So it feels like the right choice to just switch over the name on all his forms.
When he asks Steve, though, the boy's face goes ashen. He has to sit down. He tears up and won't look at Wayne. Eddie sees him, sighs, and comes to the rescue, standing between Steve's legs and pulling his head against his chest. Embracing him hard, making soothing noises.
Wayne waits silently for a moment then apologizes. He's screwed up somewhere and he feels pretty bad about it.
"Oh, no," Eddie laughs when he sees Wayne's face. "This is a happy freak out. Steve's not used to having family. Sometimes it takes him a moment when he remembers."
And suddenly, Wayne has to stand up and take a moment outside. Smoke half a cigarette with his boot kicked up against the side of the trailer. Wouldn't do to make the boys see him cry, too.
So. Yeah. Steve is his emergency contact. But both his sons always show up when anything happens.
How to stan the white guy with minimal contribution to fandom's racism problem
Look, I get it. You're obsessed with the white guy. Maybe two of them together. And maybe your series has one or more main Black characters or Asian characters or a brown Latino star. You're here because of the irresistible pull of that white guy (or two), who is fascinating beyond belief. His acting is above anything anyone has ever seen. When you write about him, the words just pour out.
This is a fan-centered space so I feel confident in saying — we've all been there. I'm not going to lie and say I've never been invested in white characters. There's nothing innately wrong with liking white characters (that would be silly).
But when it comes to the characters of color in your chosen media, you have a choice.
You're unmoved by the Black major characters and find them unrelatable? Ok. If you're not able to keep that to yourself, prepare for a discussion about the empathy gap. Because we literally do not need content about your inability to relate to CoC if the intention is for it to stand as some kind of undebatable truth about the inferiority of CoC.
And then there are the deflections. At the first mention of sidelining CoC it comes like clockwork: They're poorly written! The acting is sub par! The character is just not interesting! It's got nothing to do with race!
Except when it happens over and over and over again, it does. It just does.
I can't count how many times a conversation on Reddit or the Jedi Council Forum (or anywhere, really) started out about Finn and became all about Kylo Ren five replies in. Just today I saw the same thing on Tumblr, a post about the poor treatment of Lucas from Stranger Things, and in the comments people were talking about Billy and his trauma.
If you stan the white guy(s) and don't want to be perceived as part of fandom's racism problem, do not hijack threads about CoC. Not every conversation has to center your guy. Conversations that center Black characters, and I can't stress this enough, do not take anything away from your white fave(s). Nothing at all. It's not a competition.
Stop making excuses about why you don't like the Black character. No one really cares until you start tearing them down with excuses. Don't come up with meta about how the Black hero is a villain, actually, and the white bad guy is a tortured sweet baby who represents all of the forgotten children of the world. It's not clever, it's not good or interesting meta, it's transparent empathy gap racism.
And, again, that will be discuseed. You can't believe in "maximum inclusion" and draw the line at discussing racism. Responding to racism is not breaking the fandom social contract. It's a long established part of fandom by now.
It really shouldn't bother white guy stans so much to see a Black character in a major role in genre media to the point where they feel the need to aggressively dismiss them and their fans. Not doing that, at least, should be easy. Not doing that means that maybe that fandom critical post about racism isn't about you.
It's not about white guy characters or even their inevitable popularity. It's about fan behavior toward characters and fans of color, whether it's on Twitter, Tumblr, Reddit or AO3.
Based on this post by @nancywheelesbian @jinkies-brooms-scoob and @twosunson
“I can’t shake him,” Eddie exasperated as he dropped his bookbag into the empty chair next to Jeff.
“Who?” Jeff asked quietly. There was at least four other tables full in the library’s study hall, but he knows the librarian has it out for Hellfire.
“Harrington,” Eddie hushed.
“Steve?” Jeff asked surprised. The librarian shushed in their direction. Jeff lowered his voice. “That Harrington?”
“Yes,” Eddie stressed. “I — uh —“ he physically lowered himself towards the table as he lowered his voice. “Hooked up with him this weekend and now he won’t leave me alone.”
“Hold up,” Jeff wrinkled his brow. “You’re telling me golden boy king Steve — with you? And now he’s following you around?”
“Like a puppy,” Eddie whined. “The only thing that’s keeping him from here right now is wood shop.”
“Okay, I’m still wrapping my head around this,” Jeff said. “What do you mean you bagged — that and now he won’t leave you alone?”
“Yeah!” Eddie said throwing his hands in the air. “Exactly. I don’t get it either!”
“Boys!” The librarian hushed.
“Was he high?” Jeff whispered.
“I mean we smoked,” Eddie whispered. “But it was barely a buzz. It wouldn’t have affected Gareth and he’s a lightweight.”
“So what are you going to do?” Jeff asked.
“I don’t know,” Eddie groaned. “I’ve tried shaking him but he keeps finding me.”
“Does he got something against you?” Jeff asked. “Is he like — blackmailing you?”
“Jeff —“ Eddie looked around before lowering down on the table and voice so quiet yet high pitched panic. “He sucked my dick. I got more blackmail on him.”
“What?”
“Boys!” The librarian snapped. “One more interruption and you can leave —“
The two looked at each other before breaking out into shit-eating grins.
“Balls!” “Cock!”
“Get out!”
Eddie and Jeff scrambled to pick up their items before dashing out of the library laughing, forgetting the reason that they were kicked out in the first place.
———
Hawkins High was no exception to cliques, each table was practically assigned to a group. The jocks, band geeks, the popular kids, and Hellfire Club. There’s hardly any deviation. Except —
“Eddie!”
Eddie snapped his head up, watching Steve pass by his friends’ table to set his lunch tray next to Eddie’s.
“Missed you in English today,” Steve said, as if they normally interacted in their English class. Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder to Tommy Hagan, who looked like he was about to explode.
“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Got kicked out of study hall. Took a little adventure into town.”
“You should’ve told me,” Steve pouted. Honest to god pouted. “I would’ve went with you.”
“Jeff went with me,” Eddie said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder to Jeff sitting beside him. He quickly glanced, catching Jeff’s wide eyes. The little shit didn’t believe him. “He’s my best friend since middle school.”
“Steve,” Steve said, introducing himself.
“Yeah,” Jeff nodded. “We — uh — share home ec together.”
“Right,” Steve said. “You made those killer brownies last month.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said. “There — uh — a special recipe of mine.”
“Did you make weed brownies in class?” Eddie asked.
“No,” Jeff grinned. “I made weed brownies without weed in them.”
“So not special special brownies,” Eddie joked.
Steve snorted his drink. It wasn’t even that funny of a joke.
“Hey.”
The table turned to Gareth’s big ass frown and Freak, standing at the edge of the table.
“What’s he doing here?”
“He’s Eddie’s new friend,” Jeff said. Eddie shot Jeff a glare. “He’s having lunch with us today.”
“Steve,” Steve introduced himself again.
Gareth sat down with a huff.
“Freak,” Freak kindly introduced himself. Steve glanced at Eddie wide-eyed.
“Frank is his government name,” Eddie explained. “Some dick in his freshman English class read his name wrong and it stuck.”
“A badge of pride,” Freak grinned.
“Nice to meet you guys,” Steve said.
“Thanks for letting me sit with you for lunch.”
“You can’t sit with your own friends?” Gareth sneered. Eddie guessed if anyone was going to ask Steve the obvious questions no one wanted to ask, it would be Gareth.
“I mean I can,” Steve shrugged. “Just wanted to spend time with Eddie.”
Eddie took another glance towards Tommy Hagan and his table. Eddie knew Tommy and Steve had a falling out and that Tommy seemed to follow Hargrove around, but after winter break the two seemed to be at least on talking terms when Hargrove wasn’t around.
Eddie felt a hand squeeze on his knee.
He jerked up, barely avoiding smashing Steve’s hand into the table.
Steve pulled his hand back.
Eddie kind of missed the touch.
“Sorry,” they said simultaneously.
“Okay,” Jeff interrupted, seeing the need to pull the attention away from Steve. “We need to figure out a set list for tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?” Steve asked.
“Our first gig,” Freak grinned.
“Gig?” Steve asked. Gareth groaned.
“We have a band,” Eddie explained. “Metal — like heavy rock. We got hired to play at the Hideout. If all goes good, it’s gonna be a regular thing for actual money.”
Steve’s face brightened up. “Can I come?”
“Uh — sure,” Eddie said, his brow furrowed for a brief moment. “It gets loud.”
“I’ll find earplugs,” Steve said. The first bell rang. “Shit. I got a test coming up I need to study for. I gotta go. I’ll catch you later?”
“Sure?” Eddie said unsurely.
“Great,” Steve squeezed Eddie’s shoulder as he stood up. “Nice to meet you all. Can’t wait to see you play tomorrow.”
Steve grabbed his lunch tray and left, the boys all watching him as he took his tray to the return spot and leave the cafeteria.
“What the hell was that?” Gareth asked sharply. “Who does he think he is?”
“I don’t know,” Eddie admitted honestly. “This all started this morning. He’s following me around —“
“Like a love sick puppy,” Jeff said slowly. “Congrats Eddie. That’s your new boyfriend.”
femme steve can be something so personal @fairysteve - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
