stranger things? no that’s the eddie munson show

hey! i’m joy, early 20s, lesbian, massive eddie munson enjoyer who likes to see him in a pit of despair. no minors please!!

incurable monoshipper obsessed with steddie, ronance, and lumax. also have the occasional byler or will x dustin moment. sometimes i get obsessed with a crackship for a couple days and everyone is forced to witness it

sometimes I write blurbs! they’re always free to a good home if the ideas reasonate with anyone and you want to expand on them! most should be under #steddie fic

genfic enjoyer—i’ve got tags for that! the most used ones are #eddie and max, #steve and dustin, #eddie and dustin, #steddie dads (yes i have major favorite character bias for max and dustin)

am i a d1 billy hater? absolutely. do i think making him steve’s shitty ex is an amazing whump tool? also yes. tag is #this fucking guy again for filtering

I write stuff but it’s mostly crack—wearfinethingsalltoowell on ao3. Also I have fic tags where I yap/give bonus content! Right now there’s #fic: turn back the clock, #fic: nothing like being in love and fic: not enough rain in indiana to wash the sins out of that house

(food, not Steve) I snorted. But that also begs the question of if he takes them off to finger Steve

Just a small whine against Eddie’s chest.

Then Stella shifted restlessly in her sleep, face pinching tight in discomfort.

Eddie frowned immediately.

“Hey, sweetheart…”

He touched the back of his hand to her forehead and his stomach dropped.

She was burning up.

Her soft skin damp and clammy beneath his hand.

“Oh, shit.”

Stella whimpered softly, curling tighter into him with a miserable little sound that made something protective and panicked flare alive in Eddie’s chest instantly.

“Okay, okay, hey, baby, I got you, I got you baby Bambi”

He sat up carefully, adjusting her against him as she squirmed weakly. Her curls were sticking to her forehead with sweat now.

Wayne looked up from his recliner immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s really hot.”

That was all Eddie said before he was already moving.

Wayne scooped her up and carried her down the narrow trailer hallway tucked securely against his chest, one hand supporting the back of her head automatically. Stella buried her face against his shoulder with another weak whine.

The bathroom light flicked on harsh and yellow.

Wayne winced on instinct for her.

“Sorry, little one, I know…”

He grabbed a washcloth from beside the sink, dampening it quickly under cool water before pressing it gently to her forehead.

Stella flinched at the temperature change, tiny fingers clutching weakly at his shirt.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Wayne whispered, heart twisting. “You feel awful.”

Her cheeks were flushed now. Eyes glassy and half-open.

Wayne hushed her, bouncing her softly, as he turned to Eddie. "Call Steve, see if he can get here earlier, I'll keep her calm"

“Stella! no! we don’t climb the- STELLA.”

Stella is gone. A blur. A giggle. A sticky handprint on the wall as she launches herself off the couch like it’s an Olympic event.

Steve pivots, already out of breath.

“Why are you so fast?! You’re three!”

From the hallway

“You're TOO SLOW DADDY”

She absolutely eats carpet, pops right back up, and keeps running.

Steve drags a hand down his face.

“Okay. Okay. That’s fine. That’s... we’re fine. Everyone’s fine.”

He turns the corner and nearly runs straight into Eddie.

Eddie, who has just walked out of the bedroom, fully intending to say something normal like hey, have you seen my-

He doesn’t finish the sentence.

Because Steve Harrington, shirtless, slightly sweaty, flushed, and glowing in the sunlight coming through the window, is standing there like some kind of domestic, chaotic Greek statue.

Carrying a half-melted juice pop. Panting.

“…hi,” Steve says, completely unaware, pointing behind him. “Tiny criminal on the loose.”

Eddie doesn’t respond.

Doesn’t blink.

Doesn’t breathe.

Steve squints. “…Ed?”

Nothing.

Not a single thought behind those eyes.

Stella zooms past them both and smacks straight into Eddie’s leg, hugging it.

“HI EDDIE”

Eddie still doesn’t move.

Steve waves a hand in front of his face.

“Okay, wow. He’s broken.”

Stella looks up, concerned.

“Did he die?”

Steve nods solemnly.

“Yeah. Heatstroke. Tragic. Gone too soon.”

A full five seconds later.

Eddie finally inhales like he’s been underwater.

“…you can’t just—” gestures vaguely at Steve “—be like that in the middle of the day.”

Steve blinks. “Be like what? Sweaty and suffering?”

“SHIRTLESS, STEVE.”

Steve looks down at himself like he’s just discovered this information.

“…it’s hot???”

Eddie turns away, pacing, hands in his hair.

“I had a thought. I was thinking something normal. Responsible. And now it’s gone. It’s just gone.”

Stella, still hugging his leg chimes “I had a juice.”

Eddie, pointing at her without looking:

“YOU. This is also your fault.”

Steve, already moving again as Stella suddenly bolts:

“GET BACK HERE-!”

Eddie watches him go.

Short-circuits again.

“…I’m not surviving this summer.”

Steve catches her purely by accident and reflex.

One second Stella is a blur of sticky toddler chaos headed for the kitchen. The next...

Steve scoops her up mid-flight, turns once to keep his balance, and just… holds her out in front of him like he’s presenting evidence in court.

“Got you,” he says, breathless and triumphant.

Stella immediately starts laughing like she’s won something.

“Nooo! I still fast!”

Steve squints at her. “You are absolutely not fast right now. You are airborne. That’s different.”

He shifts his grip so she’s safely under her arms, feet dangling, juice-pop crimes fully paused.

And then it happens.

The classic Harrington maneuver.

“Air jail,” Steve announces.

Stella gasps dramatically. “NOOOO I FREE!”

“You were free. You abused your freedom,” Steve says seriously, despite his fighting smile, walking in a slow circle like a very tired security guard. “This is the consequence system.”

She kicks her little legs, giggling uncontrollably. “I escape prison!”

“Not this one,” Steve says, completely deadpan. “This one has maximum security and no juice pops.”

From across the room, Eddie is leaning against the doorway, arms folded, watching like he’s witnessing a nature documentary.

“…you’re telling me,” Eddie says slowly, “that you invented mid-auid containment for toddlers.”

Steve doesn’t even look at him. “It works.”

Stella wiggles. “I like jail!”

Eddie snorts. “Of course you do. It’s basically a ride.”

Steve adjusts her slightly, already walking toward the couch like this is standard procedure. “It’s not a ride. It’s correctional custody.”

Eddie pushes off the wall, following them. “You are a mall cop with arms.”

Steve pauses. “Excuse me, I am a parent with arms.”

Stella leans her head back, delighted. “Daddy strong!”

Steve, instantly softer: “Yeah. I am.”

Eddie watches him for a second longer, then mutters, mostly to himself:

“…god I love that idiot.”

Eddie, smug and beaming:"I hid all his shirts and hoodies"

Dustin:" why would you do that?"

Eddie:"birthday treat for moi."

Max:"gross"