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greatunironic · 3 months

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eddie wakes up in a strange room. this was not particularly unusual for him, historically: he’d spent most of his twenties waking up in new and interesting places (including a handful of jail cells). but after eddie, the label, and the los angeles superior court system decided it would be best if he stopped drinking and doing blow, it stopped being such a regular occurrence.

so it’s almost alarming to him, now, to be blinking up at an unfamiliar cement ceiling with the raging bitch of all headaches and generally feeling like he got hit by a truck, got whiplash in a crash with the way his neck aches. he’d think he was hungover like all those times before except for how sharp the pain is, bright.

he worries, briefly, he’s relapsed, or someone’s slipped him something. but he remembers what him and the boys had been up to, before this, and he thinks it’d’ve been a strange night indeed if someone roofied a c-list (b-list if he’s feeling charitable) musician at a fucking frozen four game.

because yeah, eddie remembers: they’d been third row, watching the wisconsin ladies clean up and cheering for jeff’s kid sister like she was about to get olympic gold. (she probably would, someday. her and that mayfield girl who played defense were looking down the barrel at a 2026 run apparently.

eddie’s been to a handful of games over the years, when touring and recording allows them to go. he’s resolutely never been a sports guy but he’ll admit, when pressed, that live hockey is pretty dope. to say nothing, of course, of how jeff would probably murder them all in their sleep if they didn’t rep the red and white for lottie.

(and also — and this is between eddie and his god alright — but lottie’s coach? standing back there in his suit, hair styled and dialed, snapping his gum, yelling at the refs? kind of doing it for him, okay. worth the price of admission, even if the tickets weren’t free.)

when he thinks harder — which hurts too — the last thing he clearly remembers was someone from the beavers scoring, bringing their lead to 5-1, and a slapshot from the other team getting out over the boards and nearly taking out some lady’s popcorn. someone behind them in the seats said, “jesus they’re getting desperate, eh?”

then shit goes dark on him, not even a fade to black, but a full on smash cut, roll credits black, and the post-credits scene is where ever the fuck eddie is at the moment. it smells like human and cold and icy hot, so obviously, he thinks, he died and went to hell like all the church ladies said he would back in hawkins, or probably just a locker room. what the fuck?

he blinks at the ceiling, at an interesting water stain on the cement texturing. he’s in the middle of wondering where the rest of his band has gone if he’s here alone, fucking abandoners, when a sweaty redhead with the bitchiest expression he’s maybe ever seen enters his field of vision.

“you’re alive,” she says.

eddie blinks again. “why do you sound so disappointed?”

“yo coach!” she shouts, already on the move away from him. “he’s alive!”

he tries to sit up, but that makes the pain in his head worse, and also draws attention to the fact that his back also hurts. he squeezes his eyes shut and makes a truly embarrassing noise of pain — if pressed, he’d call it a whimper — and a pair of big hands land on his shoulders.

“out, out ladies i got this! hey!, hey, man, don’t move just yet,” says big hands.

“yeah, no problem, i don’t want to anymore,” eddie says. he stirs up the will to open his eyes again and very nearly slams them back shut. because of course the person staring down at him is fucking coach hottie snackycakes himself. he’s even better looking in person, too, big droopy eyes, lips as pink as his bubblegum, and shiny, jesus christ. he’s still got eddie by the shoulders, hands warm through the thin cotton of his flannel and tee — because eddie’s always been more fashion than sense, wayne always said, and it’s even worse now that the paps are on him—

“oh, fuck this is gonna be all over tiktok later, isn’t it?” he moans.

“maybe not.”

“don’t lie.”

“listen, eddie — it is eddie, right?” asks coach hottie. “i’m steve. coach harrington. faughnsie — lottie, i mean — she said you’re eddie. her brother’s guitarist? what do you remember?”

“more like he’s my singer,” he says, “but sure. and not much.”

“well, you’re gonna be okay,” says coach hottie — steve. “it really wasn’t that bad, and it was probably too fast for anyone to get it, unless they already had a camera on you. you took a puck to the head when one popped up. i’d apologize but it wasn’t one of my girls who did it, so. anyway — you weren’t out for long, which robbie says is good — she’ll get a look at you in a second — but you got your bell rung pretty good. and you’re gonna have quite the shiner, trust me.”

“speaking from experience?”

“oh, yeah. closer and faster too.” he gently raps his head with his knuckles. “too many concussions too early ended my nhl days, in fact.”

“oh. oh shit, sorry, i—“

“don’t worry about it, man, it happens,” he says. “and if it hadn’t, i wouldn’t be here.”

“at the frozen four.”

“yeah, sure, that too.”

“what?”

“what?” steve waves him off. “anyway, i’m just glad to see you up, ish, and talking. looked pretty scary, from the bench.”

“i really don’t remember,” says eddie. “but i’m sure i’ll see it on tiktok later, like i said — at least, my unconscious, bleeding form.”

“i got up there pretty fast, so i doubt it,” says steve.

eddie blinks, twice. “you—?”

“you were behind my bench, and you. well,” he says with a shrug, but he’s clearly a little embarrassed, finally putting those hands away — weapons of eddie destruction, he thinks — and shoving them into his pockets of his tight slacks. “i should be getting back out there.”

“do you? you’re murdering them pretty good, unless i black out and missed them getting four more goals,” eddie says.

the corners of steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. eddie thinks he might just pass out again. “no, we’re still gonna cinch it, i think. looks bad, though — first time coach missing the final period so’s he can hit on the cute musician who got his clock cleaned by the biscuit.”

“oh,” he says. swallows. “uh.”

steve’s crinkly, smiley eyes go wide. “unless—“

“no less!” eddie shouts and then immediately winces. at a better, less damaging to his more than slightly concussed noggin, volume, he says, “more, actually. because pretty sure i shouldn’t be left unsupervised, and i’ve clearly been abandoned by the band, so—“

“so,” says steve.

“coach, two minutes!” someone calls.

“so, i was hoping maybe i could keep hitting on the hot hockey coach back at his?”

“i’m at the ramada inn,” he says, “and i got tape to watch for the finals.”

“i live for room service,” eddie tells him seriously. “and i’m suddenly very into wisconsin sports teams.”

“coach! go time!”

“yeah?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“COACH!”

he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “i gotta — but, uh, later?”

“pick me up in twenty?”

“probably more like half an hour, with stoppage,” he says.

someone bangs on the door. “COACH!! let’s boogie!!”

with one last look, wide eyed and smiling, steve leaves. eddie watches him go. he’d heard hockey players were caked up but lord — eddie is about to convert to a new religion, or maybe found one, over the stretch of those slacks.

“damn,” he says quietly.

“gross,” a woman says. eddie startles and looks to the side, where a lanky brunette with a bob and an undercut is staring at him, unimpressed. she’s in some get up that screams athletic trainer, and there’s a white board in her hand.

“how long have you been there?” he asks.

she raises an eyebrow. “long enough, and honestly, i don’t know if that counts as a you rule for him, or a you suck for you,” she says and does not elaborate when he asks. “also don’t look at him like that. it’s steve. he’s basically my sister.”

“yeah? any tips then?” asks eddie. “i promise i’ll only use them for good. well. mostly.”

“god,” she says with an expansive eye roll. “you’re gonna be a nightmare, aren’t you?”

a cheer goes up outside the room as the teams, presumably, take the ice again. eddie, head throbbing, concussed, embarrassed, grins. “sure hope so,” he says.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #rockstar au #hockey au #two great tastes that taste great together tbh #cross posted on twitter #might clean this up later + pop it on ao3

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 2 months

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Summer breeze

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Eddie haven't been around each other in a long time since he's been on tour. When he gets back, he decides to take you on vacation.

Warnings: smut, slight angst, hurt/comfort. Established relationships, unprotected sex, and use of safe word. Mild choking. Aftercare. Eddie is a sweet boy in this. No use of y/n, nicknames used (baby, sweetheart, and good girl)

Word count:3.1k

A/n: Not proofread. Please ignore any mistakes. Divider by me. Please comment and reblog to show support. I'm reposting because some parts were missing.

Somtime early morning in Palm Springs.

You awoke to a nice summer breeze on your skin, and your boyfriends arm slumped over your waist. His mouth slightly opened as he whistled a small snore in your ear. You smile to yourself as you watch the sunrise through the sheer white curtains of your hotel room.

Eddie had just gotten back from a very extended tour with Corroded Coffin. This was the first time both of you were away from each other for months and months on end. Most of the time, he'd fly you out to visit him. Since you started up your own business, that wasn't possible this time round.

The two of you agreed that once the extensive tour was over, you would take time off from your work and go on a little vacation together. A much needed break for the both of you. Eddie made sure you knew how much he missed you. Almost every night for over half a year, he'd call you before bed. Sometimes, you would fall asleep with each other on the other line.

Now, here you finally were snuggled up with him as you watched the sunrise. You wanted to wake him up so bad and begin your day sightseeing or lounging by the pool. You glance over your shoulder at him while he sleeps. His hair is wildly spread across the pillow as his various chains around his neck were all tangled up. He looked so peaceful that you couldn't wake him just yet. This was probably the first time he actually slept through the night since leaving on tour.

Carefully removing his arm from your waist and easing yourself out of bed. Tip toeing to the bathroom as you did but not before almost tripping on his discarded jeans next to the bed. Quickly looking up at him, you curse quietly to yourself. He's still sprawled out on the bed, snoring away, or so you thought.

"Hey, where are you going?" His low raspy voice calls out for you. You giggled at his sleepy voice that he hates so much.

His eyes are still heavy from sleep, and his hair is even wilder than you thought. He lets out a low groan as he stretches. His joints popping loudly

"I'm just going to get ready." Shaking his had he pulls the covers back slapping the mattress.

"Nuh uh c'mere." He motioned for you to get back in bed. a boyish grin spreading across his face. You can't even see his eyes from the mess of his bangs hanging lower than last time you saw him.

You thought about it for a moment and decided to rejoin him in bed. You ran and jumped back under the covers, laughing while he wrapped his arms around your body.

The pair of you missed being cuddled up in eachothers arms. This vacation is going to be two weeks long, and there is plenty of time to explore your surroundings. Staying in bed for a few more hours wouldn't kill you.

Around 1 p.m., your alarm rang.

You woke up again to the cool breeze on your skin. Only this time, you were alone, no sight of Eddie anywhere. Frowning, you remembered he did have a few meetings he had to do on your first couple of days here. Not knowing how long they would be. You gaze at his pillow, seeing a tiny daisy left there for you with a little note.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there to see you wake up. I have some business to take care of. then after I'm all yours. - Eddie."

You smiled, reading the note and smelling the flower he left for you. You hurriedly got out of bed. you decided maybe visiting the hotel pool would be a nice way to relax until he got back. You ran and put on your bikini, packing your tote back with the essentials you'll need.

Spending the next couple of hours down by the pool lounging got boring after a while. You tried reading and listening to your Walkman. Nothing seemed to help cure it. The only thing on your mind was Eddie.

How you missed the way he would hold you. His dumb jokes he'd wake you up in the middle of the night to tell you. You missed his smell and how soft his lips were against your skin. How he carefully took his time with you. The way he'd make you cum over and over again. You needed him. That longing feeling taking over you has become too overwhelming. Nearly to the point you're on the verge of tears.

You just want him. All of him.

Jumping up from the beach chair, you hurriedly make your way back to the hotel room. You practically run through the lobby to the elevator, hoping he's there by now. Much to your surprise, he is, and a sigh escapes your mouth when you see him. He's standing by the couch in the living area, taking a puff of his cigarette. He notices you staring at him and smirks before looking you up and down.

Licking his lips, "Hey baby, what you been up to?" His voice low and sultry.

"Just waiting for you to get back, so I decided to go to the pool." You pointed over your shoulder.

He hums as he takes another drag of his cigarette. There is so much sexual tension growing thicker between you two. The way he keeps looking you up and down while he smokes, practically eye fucking you. You try to make small talk with him, but he just keeps staring you down. Almost like a predator hunting for its prey. The thought sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"C'mere baby." He motions for over for you to come closer.

You do as you're told and go to him. He bites his lower lip and puts out the rest of his cigarette. He pulls you in even closer to him and wraps his arms around your middle. Bringing his hands down to your ass, squeezing softly, giving it a light few taps.

"When did you get this little thing?" He took one of his hands away from your ass to tug at your bikini top.

You look down, "I've always had it."

"Hmm, have you?" Eddie eyebrows raised in amusement. His playful tapping turning into a harsher grip.

All you could do was nod, feeling the wetness pooling between your legs.

Eddie leans down closer to your ear.You bite your lower lip and gasp when you feel him grip your ass painfully tighter. You grasp onto his shoulders for leverage, trying not to stumble as you're practically on your tip toes now. You let out a small whimper, and he loosens his grip on you. Eddie hooks a finger under your chin, making you look up at him. His eyes blown out with lust.

"Lets go to bed." His voice is deep and husky by your ear.

Nodding your head again slowly as your mind struggles to form any words.

You swallow dryly. "Okay."

Eddie takes you by the hand and leads you to the bedroom. The sun is setting now, giving it a nice orange glow. You stand before him as he gazes down at you. You look up at him, waiting for his next move.

He reaches behind you and pulls the strings to your bikini top slowly, letting it fall to the floor. Your nipples harden instantly as the cool air hits them. You move your arms to cover yourself, but he stops you.

"Don't hide from me." Eddie gently commanded.

You listen, moving your arms back down. He goes to undo your bikini bottoms, letting them fall to the floor with your top.

He mumbled rubbing his hard cock over his jeans, "You're so goddamm sexy."

Eddie sits back on the bed, bringing you to straddle him. Your lips instantly attacking his in a feverish kiss. He tastes like cigarettes and mint. you can almost cry at how much you've missed his taste. You begin grinding against him, your clit rubbing on his prominent buldge straining in his jeans. Rubbing yourself on him back and forth, a moan escapes your lips. You've been waiting so long to have him, and now he's here. Removing his mouth from yours, he kisses down your jaw and neck.

"I need you, now." Your voice is coming out much needier than you expected.

"Lay back for me, sweetheart." His husky voice mumbled against your throat. "Be a good girl."

You look at him, licking your lips."I'm always your good girl."

"You sure are, baby." He chuckled at your response, knowing how much you loved it when he called you that."You suuuuure are." He drawls.

Eddie didn't hesitate after that. Hearing you beg for him made his cock rock hard. he couldn't wait to bury it deep inside you. He quickly strips himself of every piece of clothing he had on. His cock springing free when yanks down his boxers. You move up closer to the headboard, laying back against the soft pillows. He makes his way up the bed, crawling his way to you.

He settles himself in between your legs, and you spread them open wider for him. He strokes his cock up and down a few times, pumping it lazily. Your breathing becomes heavy with anticipation. His cock has always been intimidatingly big. Eddie always made sure to get you nice and warmed up before taking him. This time, though, he didn't do much of that. There was no foreplay. you didn't mind it at first. Since you were both so desperate to have one another. Your lust and desires clouding your judgments.

"Eddie, please, I need you inside me." You kept begging him.

He bit his lip, muttering something under his breath. "Fuck, I really have missed you baby."

He looks up at you through his lashes and without warning he's lines his cock at your entrance thrusting all the way inside you. You let high-pitched moan and squeeze your eyes shut tight. Eddie doesn't stay still for long he grabs your hips harshly and begins pulling almost all the way out and slamming back into you.

Your mind going foggy as Eddie's cock splits you open. He's thrusting into you harder and faster. His hips slapping into yours roughly. You grip his biceps, digging your nails into his skin. Your pussy is making a loud squelching noise as he pumped his harder cock in and out of you. Your slicks dripping down your ass and soaking his length.

"S-so fu-cking tight," He grunted, throwing his head back as he plunged his cock harder in your pussy.

"... And wet–Jesus christ, you're making a mess on me."

Your back arches up "Mmmfph – eddie," you moan. "Don't stop."

The tip of his cock rubbing against your g spot the deeper he pushes inside you. You were moaning and writhing underneath him. Calling out his name every time slammed back into you. Every plunge of his cock felt like he was going in deeper. Your bodies slapping together

After a while, your pleasure was starting to feel more like pain. His movements were only getting rougher, and he didn't seem to be slowing down anytime soon. There was a slight stinging sensation between your legs, which was becoming more prominent.

Your breathing became heavier as anxiety started taking over. Eddie, without thinking, put his hand to your throat squeezingly only lightly to your pressure points. Tears prickled your eyes as you tried your best to ignore the growing pain between your legs.

You didn't want to use your safe word, but in this situation, it just wasn't feeling good anymore. You've never used it before and were scared to it, even though Eddie has always encouraged you to if it became too much. The bed rocking against the wall harder made you aware of how fast he was really going, — you wouldn't be surprised if there was damage done or if the bed broke. Looking up at him, he doesn't really seem to be focusing on much of anything else, but how good you feel. His eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth hanging open. His cheeks flushed pink. His hips slammed into yours at a bruising pace.

You felt guilty for doing this, but you have no other choice. His thrusts are becoming too overwhelming for your liking, and his hand on your throat is now squeezing just a tad bit harder. Your moans were now chokes and quiet sobs. He didn't even notice. Eddie was too caught up in how good your walls felt clenching around him.

"Eddie." You whimpered quiely, but he didn't hear you.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna cum." He managed to groan out.

"r-red," you quiely choked out, but he kept pumping into you. His hips smacking into yours as he only sped up even more. Chasing his own high, assuming you were getting close too. You started to panic, and the pain was getting worse now. Your anxiety kicking into overdrive.

"RED!!!" Your voice manged to scream out, and Eddie haulted his movements instantly. His face falls. His eyes are full of worry as he removes his hand from your throat immediately. Carefully and gently, he pulls out, causing you to hiss at the sting. He winced seeing the pain on your face.

"Baby, what's wrong?"— "Are you okay?"Talk to me, please."He was pleading with you to just talk to him. Tell him anything at this point. There was so much concern in his tone.

All he cared about was knowing if you were alright.

Eddie voice rang in your ears over and over again. Finally, you let out a sob covering your face with your hands. You felt embarrassed and ashamed. Eddie, on the other hand, was trying his best to soothe you. He goes to move your hands from your face, but you slap them away. You refuse to look at him, turning your body from him. Your reactions to his care were purely instinctual. You know he'd never go out of his way to cause you pain like this on purpose.

He just sits there desperately wanting to tend to you but also terrified to touch you. You laid there crying, trying to calm down and get your breathing under control. You take a deep breath and sit up, bringing the blanket to cover yourself.

"What's wrong? You gotta tell me!" Eddie urged with so much panic in his voice. He was trying to keep it together, knowing you needed him more right now.

"It hurt....i-it was too much." You stammered, swallowing the lump in your throat. You turned on your back keeping yourself under the blankets.

Eddie hesitantly goes to wipe away the tears from your face. You don't flinch or smack his hands away this time. He let out a shakey breath before speaking again. He couldn't believe he didn't notice you weren't enjoying yourself. Your small whimpers of pain replay in his head now, making him feel like such a bad boyfriend. How could he possibly not have noticed his girl was in pain? The thought has him wanting to be sick.

"I'm so so sorry I didn't mean to you hurt you." His voice cracks as he fights back tears of his own. "What do you need from me, baby?"

"It's okay. I'm okay." You reassured him, but he shakes his head.

"No you're not...I'm so fucking horrible." He said running a hand down his face and through his hair.

"You're not horrible, Eddie. we both just got too caught up."

"I'm so sorry." He repeated again, bringing your hands to his mouth as he kissed them.

"Please forgive me sweetheart you know I'd never harm you in this or any way ever."

"I know it's okay. We should just take it slow like we usually do." Your hand goes up to caress his face. A small smile slowly appeared on his lips. He took your palm, giving it a gentle kiss of reassurance.

"I should have taken my time with you, baby." Eddie sighed deeply, still riddled with guilt.

You wiped away the last remaining tears from your eyes. "I just– I need that warm-up, you know?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. He understands where you're coming from. Eddie was selfish earlier, and for that, you paid the price.

God, he still can't get your voice yelling your safe word from his mind. He wanted to break down and bawl his eyes out. He wanted to wait on your hand and foot until he was for sure you were completely fine.

There was a long calming silence in the room now. Eddie was trying to figure out what to do next. He, let's go of your hands and brought you in for a hug. He lets out a breath of relief that you're not pulling away from him.

"Wanna cuddle?" He pulled back to look at you and examine your neck where his hand used to be. You reached up, brushing back his bangs.

"Can we?" Your face lighting up.

"I'll do whatever you want me to." He moves to curl up next to you and shuts off one of the lamps on the table. He wraps you up nice and tight in your blanket. "Did you want to order room service and watch something funny?"

You wiggled around in his hold, getting yourself comfortable. "Only if you order me the biggest burger on the menu."

"Ahh, a giant burger it is, and maybe something sweet too?" Eddie leaned over to kiss your temple.

"Definitely want that too...and I want to watch something spooky not funny." You grinned over your shoulder at him.

He shook his head. "Alright, alright, ginormous burger, ice cream, and a horror movie." Eddie pauses for a second, rubbing your side in a soothing way, "anything else you might want?"

"Nope, that's all." You teased, reaching around to pinch his side. He laughed and jerked away.

"Wait! and cuddles." You added lastly.

The sun has finally set, and the room is now covered in darkness except for the TV playing a scary movie of your choosing. Your food is sitting on a tray across your laps. Every other second, he stopped eating to ask if you're really okay. To which you reminded him you're fine and you were just overwhelmed earlier.

Eventually, he stopped asking and opted to cuddle you close to him. He didn't ever want you to feel unsafe with him. The nice summer breeze blows on your skin as Eddie holds you tight against him. Your vacation may have started off on a bad foot, but Eddie was determined to make it up to you.

"I love you, sweetheart." He whispered in your ear, giving your cheek a loving kiss. "You're always safe with me."

"I love you too."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #scheduled post

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miguxadraws · 5 days

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Ragatha as Arthur Morgan

That's will be 🔥

this is the best request i've ever gotten in the history of this blog and i was more than happy to draw it

#red dead redemption is so cool #rockstar games' titles have a place in my heart #my favorite one is definitely Bully #that game is awesome #also outlaw ragatha is....#woah #my art #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc fanart #tadc ragatha #ragatha #ragatha fanart #ragatha tadc #never thought i'd tag red dead redemption in a tadc post but #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rockstar games

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findafight · 2 years

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Rockstar Eddie au in the 90's and there's rumours he is ~homosexual~ right. So the whole band is in an interview, and the journalist asks

"so, Eddie, what do you have to say about those rumours ?"

"what rumours" (he knows exactly what rumours)

"the rumours about you having slept with a number of men. About being, ah, gay? Seeing as you've never had a public relationship with a woman, and some of the songs you've written could be seen as, ah, insinuating things."

(at this point Jeff and Gareth make Significant Eye Contact. They know what's about to happen.)

Eddie nods. "Ahhh. THOSE rumours. Well, gotta say, don't believe everything you hear!" He pauses just enough for the interviewer to open their mouth and interrupts. "I mean," he leans forward with a wide grin, "obviously I am a flaming queer. We know this. [Insert song title here] is clearly about gay sex, duh, I'm not exactly a subtle man. It's the sleeping around stuff that's just plain rumour. I've been happily in a committed monogamous relationship since '86!"

this is obviously not how the interviewer thought any of this would go. They are scrambling. "O-oh? Would you like to... Elaborate on that?"

Gareth speaks under his breath "oh no, now he's not gonna stop" as he looks to the ceiling. Jeff's face is valiantly trying to not smile.

Eddie is vibrating. "Oh absolutely! Okay, so we're from this Podunk Indiana town in buttfuck nowhere, right? Steve and I met when-"

"Eddie please, man. I can't believe you held out this long but we have an album to promote and if you start gushing about Steve we'll be here forever. Please, Eddie." Says Jeff, smiling.

Eddie proceeds to pout as his bandmates ignore his grumbling about never getting to talk about Steve and Jeff and Gareth are like Eddie you waxed poetic about his chest hair in song literally five minutes before this interview. PLEASE let us talk about music I'm sure people will clamour to get an interview exclusively about Steve. You'll have time to talk about him to the press just let us have One Last Interview that isn't just Eddie Talking About Steve Time. Please.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #corroded coffin #and then he shows the Suburban Dad photo of steve lmao #finda's rambles #idk if i should put a readmore on this but i will if its too long? gonna post first and then see :)#stranger things #finda writes stuff #rockstar Eddie munson

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flowerflowerflo · 2 months

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cuppajj · 2 months

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i have a song stuck in my head

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dark-twist-fairytales · 6 months

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Okay... Okay, but:

A story about Minecraft mobs. Their origins. How they formed and where they came from.

Who built the mine shafts? What were they afraid of?

Who built the Bastions? Who destroyed them?

Who built the end cities? Why are they long since abandoned?

Where did the Mooshrooms come from? The glow squids?

When did the rift between worlds break? Why is interdimensional so easy to achieve?

What happened that drove those who found answers away?

#minecraft #so if you're wondering whats gong through my mind: ITS THIS #BECAUSE SO BADLY I WANT TO WRITE THIS. I WANT TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS IN MY OWN WAY #but i also want to see what other people think #and i want to use darius and ezekiel for something again. theyre ocs i created that sort of.. stuck with me. i love them.#rockstars posts #*tapes note to wall*

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unknownn-girl · 2 months

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let me play with your new shotgun

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loveeeeeeeeeeeere · 26 days

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Rockstar girlfriend

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

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Eddie Munson does do the whole rock star thing, but it doesn't quite go the way it did in the daydreams of a sixteen-year-old kid trying to stay awake in school.

He leaves Hawkins after the world doesn't end, gets himself out there, takes all the hurt and fear and fucked up shit and puts it into a handful of good enough songs to get himself signed.

It's not quite the genre he grew up with, not quite something any of his idols might have played, but only because it is so entirely Eddie, so influenced by where he's been and what he's seen that it kind of doesn't fit one specific influence.

It's new and it's good, is the point. Really good. And he skyrockets fast enough to give himself the spins.

He's recognizable and then he's famous and then he's too famous and too young to know what to do with it and too far from home and everyone he loves to really cope with it and it's just.

Eddie isn't built for it. Eddie hasn't even processed the fact that he was maybe supposed to die in that place, or the fact that he did watch people better than him actually die, but he's out here shooting to the top of the charts and being called the next big thing and it's too much.

It's just enough, at the end of it all, for him to self-sabotage his way out of being more than a one-hit wonder.

One big hit, a contract broken by the guys at the top with the fancy lawyers because Eddie has become the too much thing, just like always, and it's over as quick as it started.

He disappears, becomes one of those whatever happened to him? he was supposed to be the next big thing? stories that travel by word of mouth and then fade with the shift in conversation.

So what does happen to Eddie Munson?

He falls hard, he hits rock bottom, he crawls his way home to an uncle who deserved for Eddie to really make it, make him proud, have him financially set for life and get him into a real house with two stories and a garage to park the truck in, maybe even a yard for a dog.

He spirals and isolates and falls apart and stops letting himself make music at all and makes some personal choices that will probably have lasting effects on him for the rest of his life and then somewhere along the line a girl with hair like tangerines and terrible aim manages to smack him with her cane and says if I learned to walk again, so can you, asshole.

There are people in his life again after that, a reason to get out of bed and realize that he can make Wayne proud in more ways than the one he'd already fucked straight to hell.

Eddie watches a bunch of kids graduate high school and then he packs up and chases down some people who pulled him out of hell once before up in Chicago, crashes on Steve and Robin's couch until he gets himself a job painting houses and they can afford three bedrooms instead of just the two.

He cuts his hair, not short but shorter, and he gets more tattoos and itches for the guitar that sits in a case under his bed, ignores it. Itches for the pen in his hand, ignores that too.

He's still barely past his mid-20s and he still has some fucking around left to get out of his system, some finding out to accomplish doubly so, but he learns as he goes no matter whether it's forwards or backwards.

He falls in love and falls out of it, gets fired from jobs and tracks down new ones, gets into fights with his friends because they're all a little fucked up and codependent and weird but makes up with them for the same reasons.

The thing with Steve happens slowly, going from tolerating each other for the sake of knowing they'll always be on the same team to genuinely liking each other to discovering a care between the two of them that's a bit too strong to be normal about even if it still takes them a half-dozen so-called turning points to really name it and take it and keep it.

Eddie's 33 when they buy a condo together on the outskirts of Chicago two weeks after they fall into bed with each other for the first time, and he's over a decade on from being a kid who rose to the top too fast but it doesn't feel dissimilar, that sensation of a too-good thing that's bound to go wrong.

Only this time he doesn't try to sabotage it, tries the opposite, tries to hold it tightly in ways that would probably be too tight for anyone other than Steve Harrington with all his deeply intense feelings and inability to love at anything other than an eleven.

It's in the move that Steve finds a box of notebooks, snoops because it's who he is, and finds years worth of words that never made it past the tip of a pen but did, eventually, make it that far.

And it's not an easy thing, convincing Eddie that they're words worth sharing, because Eddie doesn't want it to be an easy thing. He can't let kind words shoved into his orbit by a beautiful man be enough to make it feel worth it, can't see a world where sharing his art doesn't end in another great big self-induced mess that he can't let happen when he's finally found something good.

He doesn't want to go on tour and get screamed at on stage and, besides, he's pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't want to scream for him anymore either, but then Steve has to go and remind him--

"You don't have to be the face of it. You can just be the words; you are so fucking good at being the words, Ed."

Which still isn't quite enough to be convincing, but it's a start in a solid six months of the words coming easier now that he has someone to share them with, someone to listen as Eddie plucks away at a guitar that sits out in the open now, free of dust.

It stops feeling like something shameful to hide, his music, and the thing is? It doesn't feel how it did back then either.

It's not an escape or a purge of violent energy or a distraction from everything he didn't know how to think about. Sure, it takes all of that into consideration because it takes the whole of Eddie into consideration, but more than anything it's just fun.

Like he's thirteen and still learning how to play the guitar, like it's just a hobby that never has to go anywhere, like it's just art that maybe deserves to be heard.

Everyone pitches in on ideas when they find out he's trying to come up with a pseudonym, and it's goofy and supportive and kind of the final straw in reaching out to old, burned bridges to see about any new artists looking for equally new tunes.

The first time Eddie and Steve catch familiar lyrics being sung by a new hotshot band on the radio, Eddie cries not because he's jealous or disappointed, but because it feels right.

He doesn't like being up in front of the crowds, had only ever walked across tables and made himself big and scary and loud out of self preservation, would always rather his biggest performances be for the people he knows really care.. Besides, after everything he's survived he's learned, albeit slowly, that he really likes the freedom of the quiet.

This way he still gets to say what he has to say, gets to throw his hat into the ring of an artform that he loves without selling his soul to a machine that tried to eat him alive (trust him. he knows what that feels like.)

Of course, someone is going to put 2 and 2 together eventually, the industry isn't as big as it looks and pseudonyms only pull so much weight when you went out in such a spectacularly messy and memorable fashion, but Eddie's got his condo in Chicago.

He's got the guy he shares it with in his bed.

He's got two cats and a windowsill full of plants he's going to keep alive this time, Steve, just you watch.

He's got his uncle settled in Indy these days, a small place with a small yard.

He's got music, too. Turns out even his own tendency to self-destruct couldn't take that away, huh?

It's what got him out of hell alive, after all.

#dot post #dot fic #eddie munson #steddie #one hit wonder eddie has lived rent free in my head for too long you guys have to join me in this before I lose my mind to it #rockstar!eddie #writer!eddie

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