#(eddie won) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr is available in 18 languages.

watchyourbuck · 26 days

Text

The gentleness with which ABC is going about bisexual Buck makes me extremely emotional. We know they’re not gonna backtrack it, we know they’re not gonna make it a phase, plus they’ve given Oliver freedom to actually say that he believes that Buck is the most comfortable with the term “bi.” We actually won.

3K notes · View notes

hairmetal666 · 3 months

Text

They start kissing on stage as a joke.

The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."

Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."

"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.

"I don't know, other bands do it!"

Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.

Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.

They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.

Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.

The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.

He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.

But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.

They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.

The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.

He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.

They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.

They don't talk about it.

Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.

A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.

Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.

"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.

He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"

His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.

"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"

"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"

Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."

Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.

"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."

And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--

"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.

Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."

He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."

Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"

"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.

"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."

Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."

Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.

It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.

Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."

Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"

"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.

"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."

Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #bandmates steve and eddie #musician au #fluff #angst #eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington #oblivious steve harrington #eventual mutual pining #kissing on stage #it's a joke. until it isn't #this is because boygenius won a bunch of grammys #all award shows are fake and the grammys are the most fake of all but still #if the tour bus is rockin' etc etc etc #grey goose got your girl feeling loose

2K notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 1 month

Text

Eddie loved flying. When the sun was out and he could watch the cars and houses get smaller while they reached altitude. When everything felt a bit lighter and his stress was under the clouds.

He did not love flying when the weather was bad.

In fact, he’d joked with the flight attendant that maybe they should delay the flight until the wind and dark clouds passed, but she just laughed and said the pilots were used to it.

Good for them. Eddie wasn’t.

He always sat in the window seat in first class, usually had some old businessman on his way to close a very important deal next to him. That wasn’t an option for this last minute flight though, so he was in the last row of the plane, leg bouncing nervously as people continued to board.

“As a courtesy to those around you, please stow your personal items under the seat in front of you as soon as you are in your seat. This allows a faster boarding process for all of us. Thank you!”

The announcement was a reminder that Eddie was flying without his usual carry-on items. His tour manager had packed him a checked bag and sent him on his way.

So he had his phone and his wallet, and eyes looking out the window next to him watching rain start to hit the tarmac below.

“Excuse me, I think that’s my seat,” a man’s voice said from the aisle.

Eddie looked over and saw a long line of men roughly his age in matching track suits, backpacks over their shoulders, and the Notre Dame logo on their jackets.

They were all tall. Well, all except the guy talking to him now. He was pretty average size.

“Uh. I don’t think so man. I’m 36F,” Eddie answered as kindly as his nerves would allow.

The guy checked his phone, brows creasing together.

“I’m 36F.”

No fucking way was Eddie giving up his window seat.

“Is there a problem?” A flight attendant asked from behind them.

“We’re both supposed to be in 36F?” The guy held his phone towards the attendant.

“May I see your boarding pass, sir?” The attendant asked Eddie.

Eddie pulled his own phone out, holding out the mobile boarding pass for her to see it.

“Sorry sir, it looks like you should be in 36E.”

Oh no.

Oh god no.

A middle seat?

There was no fucking way.

“I’m sorry, would it be at all possible for me to be in a window seat?” Eddie didn’t want to cause problems, but his chest was starting to clench and his breaths were coming in short pants.

“Unfortunately, this is a sold out flight. We wouldn’t have any available for you.”

He could feel eyes on him, quite a few of them, but none as obvious as the guy who actually belonged in 36F.

“We can just switch, man. No big deal.”

Eddie sighed with relief.

“Thank you, yeah. That’d be great.”

The attendant nodded and gestured for the guy to sit down.

Someone behind him sat on his other side and they immediately started talking as if nothing had happened.

See? Eddie had actually done them a favor! Now he could talk to his teammate for whatever sport he played and Eddie could watch their impending demise through the window.

The plane was rocking back and forth from the force of the wind blowing outside and the sky continued to grow darker despite the early afternoon hour. Eddie was considering sending a goodbye text to his band when he felt a hand on his arm.

“Hey, you okay?”

Eddie’s eyes widened as he turned to look at the guy next to him.

“Do you normally get nervous when you fly? Or is this your first time?” He continued. “Sometimes it helps to just close your eyes during takeoff.”

It was kind of him to try this, truly, but Eddie knew kindness wouldn’t save them if lightning hit them.

“I’m just not a fan of storms.”

The guy was watching him while his teammate on the other side of him talked to the guys across the aisle. Eddie was surrounded by this entire team. The irony was not lost on him that he spent so much of his youth expressing disdain for sports ball and might die among a group of sports ball players.

“Steve.” The guy nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s instead of offering his hand, an odd thing to do but the contact was grounding.

“Eddie.”

“You wanna hold my hand?”

Did they already die during takeoff? Did Eddie somehow end up in heaven?

This very attractive man, who definitely didn’t even know who Eddie was, was offering comfort in these trying times. Offering to hold his hand!

“Uh.”

Steve smiled. “It’s okay if not, but I figured it might help you focus on something else.”

“Sure.”

Steve held his hand out, palm up, and Eddie laced their fingers together.

“So, Eddie. Tell me where you’re off to.”

Eddie breathed in, breathed out. “My Uncle. He’s getting his appendix out so I’m trying to get there before he wakes up.”

“Oh. I had mine out when I was 10! Is he okay?” Steve seemed genuinely concerned and Eddie felt his stomach swoop.

“Yeah! Yeah, they caught it before it ruptured. But because of his age, they said his recovery might be a little rough so I’m gonna stay with him for a week to make sure he doesn’t overdo it. He’s a stubborn old man who’d probably be pulling weeds from his garden within hours if I wasn’t going so.” Eddie looked back out the window. Fingers reached under his chin, turning him away from the window.

“Eyes on me.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Eddie nodded and squeezed Steve’s hand.

“Good.”

Fuck.

“So, you’re close with your uncle?” Steve asked, as if he hadn’t just turned Eddie’s entire world upside down.

“Mhm. He basically raised me. More like a dad,” Eddie whispered out.

The pilot was making an announcement, but you couldn’t pay Eddie to tell you what it was for. He barely even noticed that they were backing away from the boarding zone.

“Do you visit him often?”

“As often as I can. My job keeps me busy,” Eddie shrugged, not really wanting to give it away, didn’t wanna give Steve a reason to look at him differently.

Eddie was gonna soak up this attention as long as he could.

It was actually helping distract him.

“I get that. I mean, I play basketball for Notre Dame and it basically is a full time job. We travel so much, most of my classes are online. I hardly ever get back home to visit my family,” Steve admitted with a sad smile. “Luckily, they come see me at my home games when they can. Does your uncle get to visit you sometimes?”

Just as Eddie went to answer, he caught lightning out of the corner of his eye and his entire body tensed.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice was firm, drawing his attention away from the window quickly. “Keep your eyes on me. We’re fine. Just you and me talking right now.”

They were nearly at the runway for takeoff and it was getting harder to focus on Steve’s words, the warmth of his hand in his, the fact that if it were truly dangerous, they wouldn’t even be cleared for takeoff.

As the plane sped up, Eddie whimpered.

He’d be embarrassed later if he survived.

Steve’s hand pulled from his and wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him against his side while his other hand cupped the back of his head and kept his face against his chest.

“Just breathe. I’ve got ya.”

And really, if the plane went down in flames, no one could save them. But hearing it did help, especially with arms holding him so tightly, he almost didn’t even remember he was on a plane.

But not quite.

The wind was strong enough to make the takeoff rough, shaking the plane more than usual as it left the ground.

Eddie’s hand gripped Steve’s shirt so tight, he would probably cause a tear if his nails weren’t so dull.

He stayed like that while they continued to climb above the clouds, the air pockets making the flight a bit more turbulent than Eddie was okay with.

He felt the vibrations of Steve talking, but didn’t hear him, didn’t even know if he was talking to him or the guy next to him who probably thought Eddie was an idiot.

The pilot made an announcement he didn’t hear, but he figured if he was gonna die, he could die against the chest of a nice, hot guy.

“Worst of it’s almost done, babe,” Steve said, lips against the top of Eddie’s head.

Gareth would never stop teasing him about this if he ever found out.

Being consoled by a sports ball guy during a flight he’s taken at least 30 times in the last two years.

New low? Maybe new high if he managed to get his number.

Steve’s fingers played with his hair, and he slowly felt his body relax.

His last thought before drifting asleep was how nice it was to be held like this.

***

“I think he’s probably a cookie guy.”

Eddie’s eyes blinked open to Steve’s voice quietly rumbling in his ear.

He’d been adjusted at some point so his head rested on Steve’s shoulder, one hand against his chest.

He couldn’t remember the last time he fell asleep on a flight. Maybe the last time they flew to London from LA right after a show?

And those had been perfect flying conditions.

He lifted his head as he rubbed at his eyes and tried not to let the butterflies take over when Steve’s hand squeezed his hip.

“Hey sleepyhead. You want cookies or pretzels?”

“Cookies always. Please.” Eddie yawned.

As he took the package of Biscoff cookies, he noticed how smooth the flight was and the sun shining through the window.

Steve’s arm stayed around him.

The entire flight.

Even after he’d gotten up to use the restroom.

Even when there was no real reason to offer him comfort anymore.

Even when they landed on the runway in Indianapolis and the seatbelt light turned off.

Even while they talked to each other the entire flight, sharing the smallest details about themselves as if it was a first date.

“Would it be okay if I get your number? I’d like to check on your uncle later if that’s okay,” Steve asked, suddenly seeming more nervous than he had the entire flight.

I’m “Yes! Yeah, please,” he quickly typed it into Steve’s phone, putting his name as Eddie M 🛫. “Uh, thanks for, ya know, helping. Kind of embarrassing.”

“No reason to be embarrassed. It was scary.”

“Yeah. I just figured I fly so much, I should be used to it.”

“You never told me what your job was,” Steve nudged him as he pocketed his phone.

“I didn’t.” Eddie almost didn’t wanna ruin this. But he’d figure it out or find out and then it’d be worse. “I’m the lead singer for Corroded Coffin.”

“Is that…a famous band?”

The guy on the other side of Steve smacked his shoulder. “Dude, one of their songs is on our locker room hype playlist. Dustin’s obsessed.”

“Shut up, Lucas. You know I have my own playlist!” Steve turned back to Eddie and rolled his eyes. “Sorry. So you’re like famous.”

“You could say that,” Eddie hated saying it though, at least in these situations. “You really didn’t know?”

“Nah. I’m more of a pop and 80s kinda guy.”

“Maybe you could send me a playlist? Ya know, when you check on my uncle later,” Eddie suggested.

“Sure. I’ve got a two and a half hour bus ride back to campus to work on one.” Steve smirked. “You gonna be alright now?”

“Yeah. Thanks again. For taking care of me.”

“Anytime. Anything you need.”

And Eddie was pretty sure he meant it.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #drabble #headcanon #somewhat based on real events #university of Utah lacrosse team I hope you won whatever games you flew here to play on Easter weekend

1K notes · View notes

incorrect911argoship · 2 months

Text

*Buck taking charge during a call*

Buck: We're a team, alright? Ride or die.

Eddie: I'd totally ride you.

Buck: What?

Ravi: He said that he'd totally ride you.

#incorrect 911 quotes #incorrect buddie #buddie #911 #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ravi panikkar #hen wilson #bobby nash #chimney han #bottom!eddie #top!buck #the intrusive thoughts won

845 notes · View notes

morganbritton132 · 9 months

Text

In the early days of Eddie’s internet career when he was doing absolutely anything to starve off boredom during covid lockdown, he joins this virtual D&D campaign with some other celebrities. It’s live-streamed to raise money for covid relief.

He’s in the middle of the campaign when he hears a very, very flirty, “Wow, is that rockstar, Eddie Munson? I’m your number one fan.”

Eddie’s eyes flicker to someone off camera and then he says with so much regret, “Babe, I’m working.”

You can hear Steve sigh off-screen and the sound of him leaving the room. Then you can hear someone laugh on screen and Eddie mumbles, “Shut up, Jeff.”

#Eddie having to choose between his two loves: D&D and Steve when he’s in the mood #D&D won because when is he going to get another chance to have Tom Morello as his DM?#plus they’re in lockdown. the only thing to do is fool around #eddie munson tiktok saga #eddie munson #steve harrington

1K notes · View notes

metalhoops · 1 year

Text

The place was Chicago. The year was 1990.

It was early enough into the year that the term ‘1990′ still sounded space aged. It’d been the 80s for as long as Eddie cared to remember. It was late enough in the year that everyone kept telling him winter was over. Nevertheless, he wore the leather jacket he’d ‘borrowed’ from his ex-boyfriend. Spring in Chicago was worse than a million L.A. winters.

Eddie hated California on principle, but his record label was in Burbank. Despite the band being one of the biggest rising stars in the metal scene, he didn’t have room to get cocky. He’d spent the break between tours last year with his aforementioned ex-boyfriend in his New York apartment.

The place had been small enough that smoking with the windows open felt like a hotbox session. There was one window in the apartment. It was in the bathroom and only opened an inch if you could get it to open at all. It wasn’t the rockstar life he’d fantasised about back in high school, but he was getting by.

So how the hell did he end up in Chicago? He was getting there.

As the filmmaker he’d slept with in Toronto had told him, opening in media res was the best way to hold an audience's attention. Was that what Eddie was doing? Trying to retell the shitshow of his life back to himself? Trying to make sense of it all, make it climax to something meaningful? Maybe.

Eddie had gotten into the habit of keeping a journal, mostly for lyrics. The band was meant to be recording their third full-length studio album in a matter of months and Eddie only had three songs that were worth anything. To make matters worse, the other two had been concept albums.

Corroded Coffin’s first and sophomore albums had been different enough that the band hadn’t been boxed into anything. Yes, they were a metal band, but they got their fair share of punks, goths and even a handful of yuppies that’d shown up to their gigs in the past. Hell, their opening act had been a grunge band. It sounded pretentious as fuck, but Eddie wasn’t afraid to transcend genres. The metal scene was changing. They had to learn to change with it.

The nail in his goddamn Corroded Coffin was that the band were known for their concept albums. Their first album Knightmare was a D&D-inspired thrash, metal album. Think Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow, with a few more homoerotic undertones. Their next album, Dream Dimension was more sci-fi leaning. It told the story of an unnamed group of kids who’d stumbled into another dimension. It was a little more glam metal. Some of the B-sides like ‘My Year’ and ‘Lakeside Interlude’ had been downright shoegaze. One magazine had likened the story to Dream Warriors, which Eddie thought was fitting.

It wasn’t like Eddie didn’t have ideas for the next album. That was the problem. Eddie did have an idea. He just couldn’t write the damn thing. It was meant to be his magnum opus, the third album that’d stand on its own but also interconnect with the other two.

He’d call it Daydream. It followed the story of a white-collar guy living the perfect nuclear family life, complete with a white picket fence and a Malibu Barbie, dream house. The thing was, the dude was miserable. He’d spend all his free time daydreaming about adventure and forgotten realms.

The kicker was halfway through the album the listener would realise the guy was the titular knight from Knightmare. His perfect suburban life was turned upside down when his kid disappeared à la portal to another dimension. It’d be perfect. All Eddie had to do is write it, and that was the damn thing. He couldn’t.

All his albums were about something. There was always a meaning beneath the meaning. Knightmare? Easy, that was about escapism. Dream Dimension? It was about growing up too fast. Daydream? That was more complicated.

Daydream was why Eddie needed to write in his journal. It was why he needed to remember that the year was 1990 and that he was in Chicago.

The thing was, Eddie didn’t remember writing Dream Dimension. There was a 1988 sized hole in his memory between their first and second US tours. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what caused it. In their early days, they were practically paid in 8 Balls and party favours. Eddie always had an addictive personality and getting into anything stronger than weed had been a bad idea.

It wasn’t until his bandmates had an intervention that he’d been able to see the forest through the trees. Realising there was a whole chunk of his life he’d missed out on was petrifying. So, Eddie kept a journal.

He’d been sober for almost a year. He was practically fucking straight-edge without all the pretentiousness that came with it, but he knew one slip-up was enough to send him spiralling. That was how he ended up in Chicago.

It was the last show of their Dream Dimension tour, and they were in Chicago. Eddie was always lively on stage. Gareth had abandoned one of his drumsticks during a solo only for Eddie to run across the stage, slip and bite the dust with his ankle going one way and the rest of him going another.

He’d woken up in a hospital with a lump on his ankle the size of a baseball and the uncomfortably familiar feeling of being high off his face on painkillers.

To answer the question, Daydream was about getting older. It was about being okay with getting older. It was about doing it your own way. Back in the thick of it all, it’d looked like Eddie wasn’t going to make it to thirty. He was trying to be okay with the idea that he might.

Last year, Jeff got married to a nice girl who’d been their costume designer for their first music video. It’d shaken him in a way he didn’t know how to explain. He was in his mid-twenties, yet suddenly he felt old. Wayne had retired and with Eddie’s help brought a Winnebago. He was probably fishing in Nebraska right now.

See, the thing about the titular character in Daydream, was that he’d conformed to what life was supposed to be. By the end of the album, he’d have left that life behind for another, one of action and adventure, because Eddie could never understand why Dorothy wanted to leave Oz for fucking Kansas. Fuck Kansas, on principal.

Something about the album wasn’t clicking. Knightmare was leaving his boring life but ultimately, he was alone. Was that what getting older was all about? Being okay with being alone? When you were gay in 1990, it might be.

After the tour ended he hadn’t wanted to go back to his apartment in Burbank. He hated it there. He’d entertained the idea of heading back to New York but it was depressing. It reminded him of Jack, and how so many of their friends weren’t around anymore.

When all was said and done, he and Gareth decided to stay in Chicago. He never said it out loud, but Eddie was sure his friend had stuck around to keep an eye on him.

Sometimes, Eddie just wanted someone to come home to. Maybe that was why he’d had a string of shit boyfriends. If you weren’t picky, people would walk all over you.

Jack had been the one that’d made Eddie swear off dating. It wasn’t worth the trouble. He’d rather die alone. His name wasn’t even Jack, it was Corey, but everyone called him Jack. Short for Jacket. Eddie wished he was joking. That should’ve been the first red flag.

The thing about Corey was he always wore the same goddamn custom-made, leather jacket, all year round. He’d liked having sex in front of his full-length mirror with Eddie always on his knees, which should’ve been at least a yellow flag. He never liked anything gentle. Corey liked the idea of having a rockstar boyfriend more than he actually liked Eddie or monogamy. That was why when Eddie left, he took his jacket.

He didn’t know why he was still wearing it, but he was. He pulled it on as he hobbled in his moon boot across the street from his and Gareth’s rented apartment to the record store. He hadn’t gone outside in a week, and he was about to start climbing up the goddamn walls. He just needed to go somewhere, and Eddie loved record stores, especially little indie ones.

Once inside, Eddie noticed the place was practically empty save for the guy behind the counter. They had an eclectic mix of records and zines lining the shelves. Eddie was glad the place was quiet. He didn’t have to worry about being spotted. It wasn’t like they were The Beatles. They could go places but in a big enough crowd, he was sure to turn a few heads. Some days, Eddie just wanted to disappear.

They had Corroded Coffin records on the display shelf and a couple of magazines with his band's name on the cover, which made pride swell in Eddie’s chest, but he wasn’t here for stroking his ego. He wanted to know what other people were doing and get back in touch with the scene.

He was busy sifting through the bargain bin when he felt someone slide in beside him. He cringed, almost expecting it to be some over-enthused metal head with a pen and a Corroded Coffin tee shirt, but it was just the dude behind the counter.

“Sorry, can I squeeze past?” the guy mumbled, a crate of records awkwardly tucked beneath his shoulder.

Eddie did his best to make himself small, his dumbass ankle making a simple task seem like an effort. He didn’t miss the way the man’s free hand brushed over his side as he passed, as though trying to assure Eddie stayed stable.

“Place sure is quiet,” Eddie observed glancing over at the man.

His jeans were fitted, tight in all the right places. He’d rolled up the cuffs of his shirt to reveal more of his bicep than Eddie deemed necessary and god his hair. There was something about his hair. Something about him seemed familiar. Eddie really hoped they hadn’t hooked up once. That’d be awkward as hell.

“Yeah, we usually close around five,” The man replied putting an album on the shelf.

It was almost six. Shit.

Eddie hated when people did that. They treated him differently because his name was in the papers. Everyone wanted something from him, and they thought doing favours was a good way to win him over. It wasn’t. The guy could clearly see something shift in Eddie.

“It’s no big deal. I have to stay an hour late to replace the stock, plus my roommate has a girl over, so I’d rather be here,” The boy laughed, shooting a look at Eddie over his shoulder, a stray strand of his perfect goddamn hair falling in his face.

The boy paused, teeth worrying away at his lower lip, his hand falling to his hip as his eyes searched Eddie's face.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked.��

And there it was. Sometimes people did that. They played dumb about who he was before making a big goddamn deal out of it. Eddie suddenly wanted to crawl back to his apartment and spend another month in isolation.

The boy snapped his fingers in triumph.

“Munson,” He practically shouted and holy fucking shit, that wasn’t what Eddie expected.

No one knew his last name, not his real one. Everyone changed their names when they got famous. He’d gone for something simple, Eddie Emerson, it had some alliteration, just like Corroded Coffin. It wasn’t too far from his real name but not even the die-hards knew him as Munson.

Then Eddie remembered.

This guy was Steve goddamn Harrington. He didn’t remember many people from high school, but he remembered Steve.

“Harrington,” Eddie breathed in disbelief. To his surprise, Steve screwed up his nose.

“Unfortunately,” He admitted and stuck out a hand expectantly. Eddie leaned down and clasped Steve’s hand. From what he remembered of Steve, the guy had never been this friendly.

“Nice to re-meet you I guess. I’d like to think I’ve changed a little in over five years.” He had, Eddie didn’t know how to explain how he knew, he just did. It was something about the way the boy held himself.

“What brings you to Chicago?” He asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact that one of Eddie’s records was sitting on the shelf beside him. Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air to find someone who didn’t know who he was. He could keep the charade up a little bit longer.

“Oh you know, work stuff,” Eddie answered vaguely, toying with his hair.

That was something he did when he was flirting and holy shit, he needed to squash that right goddamn now. He wasn’t looking to date anybody, and he remembered Steve being very straight in high school. He needed to save himself from another heartbreak.

“You live in Chicago now?” Eddie asked. The‘ because you didn’t seem like the type to ever leave’ was implied.

“Yeah. Rob, my roommate, she practically dragged me here. We’ve been attached at the hip since I graduated. It wasn’t like there was anywhere else I wanted to be,” Steve answered.

A little detail about the statement screamed for Eddie’s attention.

“The same roommate that has a girl over?” He pressed and watch Steve fold his arms over his chest, all huffy indignation locked and loaded, begging for Eddie to choose his next words wisely.

“The same,” he confirmed. Now that Eddie knew, he noticed they were selling a couple of queer zines. It didn’t necessarily mean anything. Steve might just be progressive.

“I thought you were meant to be the lady's man, Steve,” Eddie tried hoping that was enough to make Steve’s defences fall. To his surprise, Steve snorted and shook his head.

“Like I said, lots changed since high school. My luck in the dating department couldn’t be worse,” he admitted as he returned to stacking the shelves.

Eddie watched the planes of his back move beneath his shirt, wanting to push himself against him, to feel what it was like for Steve to move beneath him.

He really needed to get a hold of himself.

“Couldn’t be worse than my luck,” Eddie rebutted offhandedly.

Steve shook his head and shot Eddie another glance over his shoulder. He inhaled deeply as though preparing to tell a long story. Eddie leaned against the shelf to show Steve he was all ears.

“Last month, I went on a date with a girl and she asked me if she could call me by her ex-boyfriend’s name,” Steve began.

Eddie screwed up his nose in response.

“Worse still, I was so shocked she’d asked, I just agreed to it.” It was Eddie’s turn to snort.

“Stevie, you didn’t.”

Stevie. Goddamn Stevie. Don’t do this to yourself, Munson. Pet names are one step away from a full-blown crush.

“I did. Do I look like a ‘Juan’ to you?” Steve asked honestly. The question had Eddie doubled over in stitches.

“Alright, alright. That’s pretty bad, but that’s one bad date,” Eddie reasoned.

“Dude, I wasn’t finished. The girl before that realised she was a lesbian, while on a date with me. Which is like... the third time that’s happened,” Steve admitted.

Eddie’s hand had betrayed him and returned to toy with a strand of his hair. He hid behind it as he tried to mask a laugh. This guy did have shit luck.

“You’re a lesbian magnet,” Eddie reasoned watching as Steve hid behind his hands.

“And the time before that, I thought I was getting somewhere with a guy. We’d been on three dates before he told me he had a wife.”

Steve made the next confession a little quieter than the others, a little more reserved. Eddie felt the hairs on his arm stand on end. Steve had changed since high school.

“Once I hooked up with a guy who’d only give me head if I sang to him while he did it,” Eddie admitted, feeling the need to get Steve off the defensive and add to the pity party. He watched the boy’s features shift.

“Oh wow, that’s bad. You should’ve pretended to be tone-deaf,” Steve reasoned, once more proving he had no idea what Eddie did for a living.

“See I was torn between that and singing La Cucaracha at the top of my lungs.” Steve snorted, honest to god snorted.

The two lapsed into silence but it was a comfortable one. Steve smoothed down his hair five times within the space of a minute before taking a deep breath.

Eddie knew what was coming. He wasn’t dumb, but a part of him would always be trapped back in high school. It kept screaming there was no way a popular kid like Steve would talk to a loser like him. He thought he’d buried that part of himself, yet here it was, rising from the dead.

“Do you want to get a drink?”

And there it was. Eddie didn’t mean to cringe, but Steve caught it, his hands stuffed themselves into the too-tight back pockets of his jeans.

“Or not,” He muttered averting his gaze.

“No. It’s not that. I... I don’t drink.”

There you go Gareth. He was responsible enough to look after himself.

“I could do dinner though,” Eddie tried to throw Steve a bone.

Eddie waited for Steve to throw up one of the red flags he’d gotten used to seeing with all the men he’d dated or hooked up with. Eddie would say he didn’t drink, and they’d give him a funny look or mutter something about him being a killjoy.

“There’s a place that does a wicked deep-dish pizza not far from here. You said you weren’t from Chicago, right? You’ve gotta have the pizza, it’s a rite of passage,” Steve ploughed on.

“Sure,” He muttered trying not to look as surprised as he felt.

He watched Steve buzz around the record store, shutting up shop and then extending a hand shyly to Eddie. Right, his stupid goddamn leg. At least it gave him an excuse to get up close and personal with Steve in the street and not draw too much attention.

The two made the short walk to the pizzeria at a plodding pace, talking about nothing in particular.

“What happened to your leg?” Steve asked as they slid into the booth.

“Slid on a drumstick and took a nosedive off a stage,” Eddie admitted. He wasn’t going to outright lie to Steve.

“Ouch,” Steve mumbled, passing the menu over to Eddie.

“So, you still do band stuff? I remember that high school talent show,” Steve noted, and Eddie cringed, letting his head drop to the table.

“I really wish you didn’t,” He chuckled before confirming,

“Yeah, I still do band stuff,” as he raised his head and chanced a glance at Steve.

“Cool,” was all he said before they shifted the subject.

They were swapping stories about best friends, roommates, shared high-school trauma and generally flirting when a figure approached their booth. It was a kid, who couldn’t be older than fifteen with a shaved head and a battle jacket. He reminded Eddie of himself at that age. He knew what was coming.

“You’re Eddie Emerson, right? From Corroded Coffin,” the kid asked, his hands shaking. He watched as a furrow appeared on Steve’s brow before his jaw dropped. So Steve wasn’t totally clueless.

“One and only. You want me to sign something for you?” Eddie asked, having gone through this song and dance a million times before. He tried to be nice, after all, it was a kid, but sometimes he got tired of always having to be on.

To make matters worse it happened in front of Steve. Something about people coming up to him always sat wrong with other guys he’d been with. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or ego that did it, but he knew if he ran into a fan on a date, the rest of the night typically went sideways.

He signed the back of a napkin as he listened to the kid rattle off praise for their music. He talked about his favourite songs and lyrics. Eddie wished he knew what to say, wished he knew how to take a compliment but he didn’t. To his surprise, he heard Steve speak.

“Hey, did you make this?” Steve asked indicating the kid's battle jacket, forcing him to come up for air.

“Yeah, all on my own.”

The kid blinked and ran his hand over a couple of the hand-sewn patches. Steve obviously knew nothing about the scene because if you didn’t make your own jacket people would call you a poser. It was a nice shout though because he watched the kid light up.

“Even the safety pins?” Steve asked curiously.

Eddie watched as the kid launched into a story of every little pin and stitch in the jacket, turning his attention away from Eddie, and giving him space to catch his breath. It was nice. He felt like Steve had seen him.

After another few minutes, the kid’s dad came to collect him and Eddie felt his body sag against the diner booth.

“You get that all the time?” Steve asked, his foot nudging Eddie’s under the table.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” He grumbled scrubbing his face. Steve nudged his foot again, giving him a goofy grin.

“At least he liked your stuff,” He proposed.

“I’m guessing it’s not your thing,” Eddie reasoned. He wasn’t one for stereotypes, but he really didn’t look like the typical Corroded Coffin fan.

“I’m not too picky when it comes to music. I just listen to top forty stuff.” Eddie shot him a disbelieving look.

“Dude you work in a record store,” he laughed and Steve shrugged.

“Among other things. I just got the job to hang out with Robin. She works there too. She only took the job to try and peddle her girlfriend Nancy’s zines. Sometimes I write the sports section because Nancy, Robin and Jonathan don’t know anything about sports.” Eddie rested his head in the palm of his hand, listening attentively.

“Wait, is that the same Nancy that you dated back in high school?” He asked, trying to sound scandalised, glad to have a break from the rock star bullshit.

“Like you said, lesbian magnet,” Steve grumbled, mirroring Eddie’s gesture, resting his head in his hand.

“What are you actually doing in town?” Steve asked, more curious than nosy.

“Trying to run away from writing our third album,” Eddie spoke.

It’d been the first time he admitted it out loud. He didn’t talk about his music until he thought it was worth something, but Steve was a good listener. To Eddie’s surprise, he found himself spilling his guts to Steve. He told him all about the third album, about the goddamn symbolism, and the way things just weren’t clicking.

“Why don’t you give him a reason to stay?” Steve asked when Eddie finished his monologue, as though it was the simplest solution in the world.

“I mean, Dorothy doesn’t go back to Kansas because she doesn’t like Oz, she misses home. She misses her family. You want your knight guy to stay in fantasy land? Give him someone to stay for,” Steve proposed, and it was like the final puzzle piece sliding into place. It was brilliant.

“Stevie, I could kiss you,” Eddie spoke.

“Is that a promise?” Steve asked with a cheeky grin.

“Let’s get out of here and find out.”

1K notes · View notes

bloodwrittenballad · 2 years

Text

fucking joseph quinn and his pretty fucking doe eyes and his cute little fucking smile and precious little laugh and fucking cute accent like what the fuck

#the cute aggression won #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #i love him your honor #and his doe eyes

7K notes · View notes

munsonfamilyband · 5 months

Text

Just had the most ooey gooey platonic stobin thought (featuring, as always, steddie)

Just, years after everyone has left Hawkins. The kids all graduated and have gone on to college. Nancy has her degree and is working her way very quickly up the ranks of the paper she works at. Jonathan got a job with Nat Geo somehow (though no one is surprised). Robin is working at some kind of archive, sorting and translating and transcribing and she loves every second of it.

Eddie and Steve live in the apartment right next to hers. At first it was awful, both because she hated having a wall between her and Steve, even with the balconies that they managed to connect somehow, and because their bedroom shared a wall with hers and they were so LOUD. Over time it got easier, her and Steve still were weirdly connected and Eddie woke up with a surprise third person in their bed multiple times a week but he knew she was a bonus when he asked Steve out.

Eddie got a job working as a tattoo artist (he convinced Steve to get one, but he only agreed to any tattoos that had a pair on someone else so he and Robin have matching anchors and ice cream scoops and he and Eddie have a little bat wearing a crown).

Steve struggled his way through school and got a job as an elementary school teacher. He comes home covered in glue and paint and glitter multiple times a week and has complained about ruining so many sweaters but he adores his kids and his job.

The night they get engaged Steve had just come home from the first parent-teacher conferences of the new year and he was barely standing up. He was carrying the italian Eddie had told him he ordered on his way home and when he got inside their apartment he was almost too tired to notice all the lights being off and all of their candles lit.

Almost.

Steve froze and then kept putting his stuff away, calling out for Eddie. He finally found him in their bedroom (that no longer shared a wall with Robin’s), where Eddie was bouncing on his toes and twirling a small box in his hands.

Robin didn’t know what was going on when she heard Steve scream… something, she couldn’t really tell because it almost sounded like he was crying. Her Bestie Alarms immediately went off at the sound of Steve Tears but as she opened her balcony door to go check on him, he was already there. Tears still falling, hand shoved into her face, and the biggest smile she had ever seen him make.

It took less than 5 seconds for her to recognize the new ring on Steve’s hand and then they were both screaming and crying and hugging each other. (They were also ignoring Eddie yelling from their balcony to give his fiance back).

A few months passed and Steve and Eddie had started planning their wedding. Robin was nervous, she was waiting for Steve to ask her to be his maid of honor or something and she wanted to, she did. But she was also terrible at planning big events and she didn’t think she could handle all the pressure of having to plan showers and parties and getting things organized the day of. She wanted to be in Steve’s wedding more than anything, but she did NOT want to be in his wedding party and she was terrified of telling him that.

When Steve and her were at lunch one day and he said he had something to ask, she started panicking. She had barely been listening but she did catch a word she wasn’t expecting.

Officiate.

Steve told her that he wanted her to officiate his wedding. He said that he knew she would have hated being best man (the way he didn’t said maid of honor didn’t make her love him more, it didn’t) because of all the planning but he needed her to be part of his wedding. She was great at giving speeches, rambling included, and he couldn’t think of anyone he would rather have perform his wedding.

They both cried and then got kicked out of the chinese restaurant.

When the time came, Robin stood at the “altar” that the kids had helped make. It was covered in flowers and twinkling lights and it looked beautiful.

That day, being able to be the one to help her best friend get married, was the best day of her life.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #robin buckley #period hormones got me fucked up thinking about robin officiating steves wedding #eddie and steve had to do a coin toss for who got dustin #(eddie won)#(steve was okay with this because then he got to ask max)

337 notes · View notes

idkwhatimdoing1981 · 2 years

Text

On pride month eve steddie nation has won! Like the offical stranger things twitter account didnt even deny it.

#steveddie #steddie #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #we won #omggg

6K notes · View notes

tennant-the-tigger · 1 year

Text

AU Work placement: Local Daycare - Never Fear!

Steve was struggling to connect with the kids at the daycare, Robin tells him to just act himself and have fun because no one here would judge him. While Eddie just snorts and tells him to step off his throne and just act like a kid. Desperate for change, Steve does just that. And when they were tasked to put on a performance for the kids, He actively volunteers to be the knight and put on one hell of a performance. Eddie was baffled, he never thought he would see the day that, the almightly jock, the 'Hair' Harrington, King Steve himself would volunteer to dress up and play pretend in front of kids. But here Eddie was, wearing a princess crown while watching the sun shine.

My Stranger Things Art | Steve’s Mcnuggets | Part 1

838 notes · View notes

fearbehere · 25 days

Text

i know misha collins is ripping out his hair somewhere right now

#911 girlies i am so happy for you #you guys won #i should’ve watched your show instead #supernatural #911 show #911 abc #buck x eddie #feariginals #evan buckley #911 fox

84 notes · View notes

incorrect911argoship · 1 month

Text

Hen, looking at Buck’s clipboard: Why is Eddie on your to-do list?

Buck: Oh, I forgot, that’s already done. *adds a check mark next to it*

Eddie, walking funny past them: Hey guys, what are you doing?

Hen: ...

Chim, in the background: Vindication!

#incorrect 911 quotes #incorrect buddie #buddie #911 #911 abc #hen wilson #evan buckley #eddie diaz #chimney han #ravi panikkar #bobby nash #chim won the bet

231 notes · View notes

shares-a-vest · 1 year

Text

This post isn't me stopping myself from screaming Beyonce was robbed.

also inspired by THIS post that got me thinking about Steddie at the Grammys.

AU where Steve Harrington is at the Grammys, just a smaller indie artist who finds himself nominated for Best Rock Album. He's in the same category as Corroded Coffin, a metal band who similarly, aren't expected to win. The favourite is some younger group who are basically just pop with a bit of an edge. Plus they've all been shoved at tables that certainly aren't the main attraction, away from centre stage and constant camera pans.

Steve's "date" is his best friend Robin, and every question (okay, the few questions he got) on the red carpet were about her. And they just laughed and fumbled their way through answers that never technically answered if they are dating or not.

There's a commercial break in the ceremony, so a lot of people are mingling. It's pretty crowded and loud and Steve is starting to feel overwhelmed... And his category is up soon. Oh god, what if he wins...

"Great album, man," someone says as a hand claps on his shoulder.

Robin makes some kind of excited squee noise and Steve feels her fumble around at her feet.

"I'm going for more drinks!" she practically shouts in his ear, leaving it ringing.

Before Steve can turn around she disappears.

"Your girlfriend knows it's table service, right?" the voice offers.

Steve finally turns around to find the lead singer of Corroded Coffin saying before him, smiling. He's dressed in leather pants with a sheer black top under his jacket, exposing a chest tattoo. He looks completely different to the wild performance he gave about half an hour ago, screaming and trashing about on stage and not sending Steve's heart racing.

He must be staring because the Hot Lead Singer of Corroded Coffin furrows his brow.

"Oh, um," Steve stutters, clutching his place card in his hands once again. It's completely tattered now from fiddling with it most of the night.

"First time here?" the man asks, quickly moving behind him to sit in Robin's vacated seat.

"Yeah," Steve replies. "It's a lot."

The man laughs, fluttering his eyelashes as he props an arm on the table, exposing ring-adorned fingers. Gosh, he's pretty.

"It makes for a pretty cool date night."

"Oh, Rob - Robin!" Steve chokes and awkwardly thumbs behind him. "She's not my girlfriend."

The man nods, looking him over. Steve blushes and scrambles to add, "Your performance was great."

"Felt like we were asked to perform to appease rock fans, really," he shrugs. "It's all overproduced garbage now. Not you though!"

He places a hand on Steve's knee at that last point.

"Thanks," Steve huffs, bashful as he ignores the panic reaching every inch of his being.

"Name's Eddie," Eddie clarifies.

"Steve!" he... announces?

What was that? Can he actually be not this, right now...

He's saved by the bell as the event announcer informs the audience of the return from the commercial break and begins listing the next categories. Eddie squeezes Steve's thigh.

"Talk later," he smiles, before darting back to his table.

Neither Steve nor Corroded Coffin win. As predicted, it's the pop/not-really-rock group. Steve nods his way through condolences at his table, including his manager and Robin who had far too higher expectations.

As soon as the winners leave the stage, the overhead announcer informs of yet another commercial break. And before Steve knows it, Eddie is back, crouching down beside him and placing his hand over his.

"Tough luck, Steve," he says, although he doesn't look at least a bit disappointed. "Wanna go to the afterparty with me?"

Steve looks to Robin for approval.

"Yes," she says through gritted teeth, kicking him hard under the table.

He closes his eyes and winces at the pain. Does she really need to be this kind of a wingman at the goddamn Grammys?

"Sure," he says to Eddie, wincing again because he's sounding way too casual (and he might also be bracing himself for another kick).

"Great!" Eddie beams and leans in, close enough to whisper. "We're gonna have some fun."

#i didnt just come home from a swim to find out harry won album of the year #im being so fiiine about it #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie au #steddie headcanon #corroded coffin #steddie ficlet #lilys ficlets

829 notes · View notes

morganbritton132 · 1 year

Note

I love the idea that while eddie is away the 'kids' take up the tik toking mantle. For 2 express purposes, firstly to reassure eddie that Steve is fine. But secondly, and most importantly, to bully Steve (affectionately).

Also I love this series!! I spend far too much time at work checking ur page to see if you've thought of something new:DD I always find myself smiling when I'm reading it, and I haven't even watched stranger things lol!

I love this idea so much! It’s cute and entirely on brand. They make it a competition on who can distract Steve the best (because the only thing worse than Eddie and Steve being lovey together is how mopey they get when they’re apart). Steve kind of knows that they’re distracting him (or worse, babysitting him) but now that everybody is grown up, it’s hard to see each other as often so he’s fine with it.

Dustin posts the first Tiktok of the competition. He actually posts multiple videos. The first one, he picks Steve up from work and bullies him into letting Dustin stay at his house.

The second one, they’re in Steve’s favorite rinky-dink pizza shop. They’re arguing about if Steve’s phone is working or not because Eddie hasn’t called, and then Dustin steals his phone and says he won’t give it back until Steve beats him at ski-ball. The third one is after Dustin helps Steve set up for his zoom study session because his students really do have a test this week.

The fourth video is Dustin locking downs his win and calling Eddie so him and Steve can FaceTime. They fall asleep on the phone together. It’s disgustingly cute.

Lucas posts the next one. Him and Steve are playing a round of Whores (It’s Horse but Eddie misheard the name once and no one has called it horse since) in the drive way since Steve installed a barely used basketball hoop. Lucas argues that this places him above Dustin because Steve wasn’t checking his phone.

Max and El take Steve and Robin out for drinks and karaoke that same night and Lucas accepts his loss. Steve and Robin give a tipsy but surprisingly good rendition of Somebody That I Used To Know. Eddie stitches this and rants about how he’s been trying to get Steve to sing on one of his songs for years and he refuses.

Will takes Steve out for lunch. It’s not going to win him the competition just it’s a nice afternoon.

Mike destroys everybody in the competition with very little effort. He gives Steve the keys to his car and takes him to do donuts in an empty parking lot. Eddie stitches this one and tells Mike to count his days. Mike replies in the comments a series of middle finger emojis.

Mike thinks he’s got the win in the bag but Robin - who is not even in the competition- destroys all of them by getting Steve what he actually wants… a plane ticket to Vegas for Friday night and a backstage pass to Eddie’s show.

<- Last Post | Next Post ->

#Erica is too busy dealing with the shit in DC to compete but otherwise she would have won #Ozzy the entire time Steve is spinning this around a parking lot: sir. you are no supposed to do this.#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson tiktok saga

921 notes · View notes

indecisive-dizzy · 2 months

Text

I've been thinking about Frank again and it lead me to remember how Bad he is at chess. So here are my Neighborhood Chess headcanons! 🏠♟️

Frank - Horrible at chess, takes forever to make a move, constantly overthinking, but can recite the textbook rules word for word.

Julie - God at chess. The Chess Master, Undefeated Champion (Chesspion?). She's only ever lost One game and it was against Jonesy back in the cave. They don't talk about it.

Barnaby - Knows how to play chess but would rather mess with the other player (Frank) and use slight of hand to steal/replace pieces on the board. Good at chess while cheating, decent without.

Howdy - Knows how to play chess but always tries to make trades/offers to the other player to swindle a win. "My pawn for your knight! What do ya say?" Is decent at chess but impatient and breaks the rules.

Eddie - Forgot how to play chess, completely wings it. The first time he played with Frank he felt bad when he won. He had literally just copied Frank's moves for half the game because he didn't know what he was doing. Still feels bad when he wins against Frank. Bad at chess but only because he doesn't remember how to play. Would be decent if he remembered.

Wally - Julie taught him how to play chess. Takes a while to move but unlike Frank there's a benefit. Is very quiet when playing. Says "That's the Most!" everytime he wins. Good at chess.

Poppy - Very anxious when playing. Has trouble moving the pieces but makes her moves as fast as possible to get the game over with. Gets overwhelmed, is bad at chess.

Sally - Pretends to be Very good at chess, the best even, practically invented it! Is actually mediocre. She turns the game into a dramatic tale everytime. Monologues over every piece she loses and makes up a piece of story with every move. No one wants to play chess with her except Wally and Julie. Frank only does so because he is determined to win One game of chess and Sally is second worst. She lost to Eddie once and never played chess with him again.

Home - Can't play without assistance. What do you expect he's a house? Houses don't have hands, silly! If someone (Wally) helps move the pieces he's good at chess. No one knows where Home learned how to play chess. Somehow still beats Frank even if no one helps.

54 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

anime-gamer-92

Anime-TV-Fan

spudbud

spuds

journalistreport

Journalist Report

siksoksilin

İsimsiz

italprv

Glory2Epstein