#whyyy do i feel guilty writing steddie as being saaaad 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shares-a-vest · 1 year

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had to write a Steve-centric Mother's Day thingy too. this one is sad like my Eddie one yesterday, but at least my boys are smiling by the end???

Mother's Day, 1998

Eddie tries not to watch from his prime position on the couch as Steve paces back and forward in the kitchen. He stops every now and then to linger by the phone mounted on the wall near the table.

Okay so maybe Eddie peers above his notebook once or twice and follows swiftly by looking down at Joanie, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of crayons as she colours at the coffee table. Steve sighs loud enough that the sound travels into the living room. Eddie listens as he punches in a number and walks off, presumably stretching the cord as far from earshot as possible.

"Shit," he curses.

"You swore," Joanie chimes, not looking up from her colouring book.

"I expect a freebie today, munchkin," he peeks out from his notebook to find Joanie glaring.

"...Fine," she agrees after a long pause.

He grumbles and scribbles out the most recent lines of his poem, the rhyming couplet suddenly feeling too saccharine for the general mood of today.

He should have known better, considering Steve emerged from the bedroom relatively late (for him) cradling his favourite sickly little furball Meatloaf like a baby - which he continued to do all morning. The poor thing is now teetering on the kitchen island, abandoned and desperate to get down.

Eddie hops up, rushing to the cat before he can get into too much trouble. Meatloaf whimpers, his meow more like a cry, regardless of whether his keeper has left him on his lonesome or not. He cringes at the sound. It's just so goddamn sad and certainly, a noise he could do without today especially.

He releases Meatloaf, now free to roam the apartment. But the scamp follows the phone cord stretching to the bedroom, his wobbly back legs catching and slipping every few steps as he hurries along, presumably on his way to get stuck under a piece of furniture.

Eddie makes a beeline back to the couch, not wanting to eavesdrop on Steve's phone call. He can hear murmuring, which he convinces himself is a good sign. At least Steve's mother actually picked up the phone this time.

Eddie tosses his notebook to the side, now uninterested in his tradition of writing a Mother's Day poem for his own mother. He chews at his nails, a fidgeting tactic to stop himself from twirling his hair. At least if he chews his nails, the worrying technique will be lost on Steve who won't be able to fixate on Eddie's feelings to distract himself.

"What going on?" Joanie wonders suspiciously, craning her neck to look down the hall.

"Uh…" he hums.

He really doesn't know how to answer. Mrs Harrington isn't exactly a frequent topic of conversation - if at all, for that matter.

"Is Dad calling Ganma?" Joanie's eyes light up at the enquiry.

If Eddie was feeling mean enough, he'd blame all of this on Dustin and Suzie. Traditionally they all spend Mother's Day doting over Claudia, aka, Joanie's precious Ganma (a toddler mispronunciation turned official familial title). But this year Dustin was far too busy with work to take time off, let alone a weekend plus a few days, so Claudia took it upon herself to travel to them. And, with Nancy and Robin back in Hawkins visiting Karen Wheeler, Eddie was left with Steve and Joanie in the city for Mother's Day weekend.

In hindsight, he should have called up Wayne to come for a fun-filled Pa-centric weekend instead.

Joanie walks over to the couch expecting an answer.

"Oh, uh. No, honey," he splutters, "Dad is calling his mom."

His daughter frowns, "Oh."

Yeah, kid. 'Oh' is an understatement.

Eddie pats the empty space next to him and Joanie reaches up with grabby hands, wanting uppies. He obliges.

Joanie fiddles with the buttons on the front of her unicorn-patterned onesie, lost in thought for a long while before cutting the silence with a heartbreaking, "He'll be happier when we call Ganma."

Eddie reaches for his notebook, deciding on writing his mom a verse about this blessing of a kid.

Steve soon comes back, hanging up the phone without a word and sets about making lunch. Eddie quickly scoops up Joanie and plops her on the floor to resume her colouring.

"Steve?" he asks tentatively as he practically tiptoes to the kitchen.

"What?" Steve snaps, tone biting.

He fusses with the twist tie at the top of their loaf of bread, not really committing to any of the sandwich-making efficiency he typically possesses.

"We could go out for lunch?" Eddie suggests, immediately regretting it.

"What, so we can see everyone celebrating Mother's Day? Even though my mom hates me? I shouldn't have done that... Idiot... Stupid."

Steve shakes his head.

"Sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice throaty and strained, "Today is worse for you. I just set myself up to be upset."

He looks up, teary-eyed.

Eddie chops his hand through the air between them, insistent, "Completely difference circumstances, Stevie," he takes his hand and tugs, "Come sit down, I'll make us some lunch in a bit, yeah?"

They turn to exit the kitchen and are faced with Joanie, clutching her colouring book to her chest while Blondie and a surprisingly not lost Meatloaf circle her feet.

"Can we call Ganma now?"

Okay, so this kid is absolutely a precious little bean, a blessing who is the light of Eddie and Steve's lives in ways they can barely articulate sometimes.

But she often lacks the ability to read the room as she escorts her battalion of cats around the apartment.

Eddie could blame the sheer amount of time Joanie spends with Robin 'I Don't Have A Strong Grasp of Social Cues' Buckley, but he knows he is the exact goddamn same.

Steve pinches his nose before removing his glasses to rub at his eyes, "Yeah, baby, we can call Ganma."

He recovers enough to check his watch, needing to extend his arm almost fully to see it. Meanwhile, Eddie quickly shoos Joanie back to the living room as he picks up the phone.

They let Joanie take the reins, watching on from the couch as she excitedly recounts her week at preschool to Claudia (and she spoils the gift they had bought that is currently in transit while she's at it).

Eddie feels Steve sinks down in his seat and lean into his side.

"You wanna talk about it?" Eddie asks, trying to remain casual by doodling in the margins of his now-finished poem.

"Maybe later," Steve breathes heavily.

"We aren't doing this again, staying here. We'll at least see Wayne for the weekend."

Before Steve can argue, Joanie is waving the phone in Steve's face. He takes it and sniffles.

"Happy Mother's Day, Claudia," he says, clearing his throat, "I love you."

Whatever Claudia says in return, it's enough to make Steve smile.

more of this informal au HERE

#i'll get back to some nonsense soon i promise (and shorter stuff wtf is with my excessive word count atm)#whyyy do i feel guilty writing steddie as being saaaad 😭#steddie as girl-dads #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #trans eddie munson #steve harrington's parents #claudia henderson #claudia henderson 🐈

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