#older Chrissy

[xxautumnivyxx]

The contrast between these two sets was a lot of fun. Might explore other series “partner” sets in the future.

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Damn, Wish I Was Your Lover

Author: Deathinasmalltown

Rating/Warning: Explicit

Chapter Count: 1/1 (Part 2 of HellCheer Age AUs series)

Description:

“Eddie?! Eddie Munson?! Is that you?!”

He looks up from his umpteenth reading of The Hobbit as a sweet voice calls out to him while he’s sitting outside the Hawkins physical therapy office. Eddie blanches in shock as his wet dream comes to life right before his eyes. Chrissy Carver née Cunningham bounds toward him, and he’s transported to himself as a pre-teen. The reaction is immediate; his dick chubs, and he has to cross a calf over his thigh, and put his book over his lap to avoid suspicion.

“Uhm, yeah—yes,” he coughs, “th—that’s me.”

She squeals happily, “it’s me! Chrissy! Chrissy Cunningham! I used to babysit you, for your Uncle Wayne!”

“Right,” he swallows, “I remember.”

Tags: Alternate Universe- no vecna, Alternate Universe- modern au, Rockstar!Eddie, Mom!Chrissy, Married Chrissy, cheating, older Chrissy, younger Eddie, fluff, smut, hurt/comfort, body worship, absent Jason, (he cheating), Eddie POV, one-shot, part of a series, Status: Completed

[phantomrose96]

I bought Pikmin for the Switch since that's out now as promo for the Pikmin 4 release, and like no shade to my 4-year-old self who played the game when it came out but I'm literally torching her fucking record.

[stevesaxetogrind]

No fear, I have done the math for all of you Fanfic authors so we can stop with the confusion.

Eddie’s Third Try at Senior Year is ‘86

Second try was ‘85, originally supposed to graduate in ‘84

Steve Graduated on time in ‘85

Therefore Eddie is one school year above Steve.

Additionally- as far as I am aware, Middle School is 3 years maximum. So, because of context/middle school talent show:

When Chrissy was in 6th grade, Steve was in 7th, and Eddie was in 8th grade- carrying on until Senior Year kept him back.

So Eddie is two school years above Chrissy.

Ages get a little weirder because I don’t know the Hawkins enrolment cut off/school year start. Some places start in August, others September. Some use age at enrollment, others use birth years etc. but, you can use a general 17-18 for Chrissy/the other ‘86 seniors, 18-19 for Steve/‘85 seniors, and place Eddie 19-20. 21 is kind of pushing it unless you go with a mid-year Appalachian transfer fanon- but again it depends on the enrolment of Hawkins.

I know folks who started kindergarten at 3 because they were big & potty trained, but others were delayed until 5. But 4 is average, ergo, let’s go with averages.

Edit: kindergarten apparently isn’t relevant anyways so let’s be glad it was crossed out anyways.

[sofiiel]

At a charity event.

[decodedlvr]

the band-aid to my wounds

Older!Eddie Munson x naive!Fem!reader - eventual twins Steve Harrington x reader x Kurt Kunckle series| pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3.. TBC

Summary: After stumbling into an old barn after being stranded by your freshly new ex boyfriend, you wake up strangely in a room..that isn't yours..

warnings: talks of cheating, abuse, angst, slight stockholm syndrome at a glance, anxiety, childhood trauma, parent problems; daddy issues, eventual smut, cursing, drinking, smoking, perviness, slight dub-con, miscommunications, blood mention

word count: idk? 1.5k?

previously: 'your stomach knots when he calls you sweetheart.

okay maybe he harmless, just very kindly harmless?

"Here" he throws his arm out, "I'm Eddie, Eddie Munson."

You look down at his hands

rings.

Looking back up at him with a tight lipped smile, taking his hand to shake it aggressively, "y/n."

"Wow y/n, gotta grip there, im assuming somebody properly taught you to shake hands with a someone?"

what?

how did he know that

its probably a common thing to be taught

"Uh yeah thanks.. my dad actually taught me, said it would make me look knowledgeable at job interviews"

He chuckles throwing his head back slightly, "well i dont know about that but definitely does look impressive to some"

I nod not knowing what to say

my stomach growls loudly

he looks down with wide eyes

"Sheesh, are ya in the mood for some breakfast? We actually made quite a lot of and have left overs i can rewarm for ya--

"whos we?"

He smiles softly "Here" -he walks to the door frame turning back to say," ill introduce you to my farm workin family"

family? ok.. that makes me feel a little better to know im not alone

"Sure" i say walking out of the bedroom door with him

getting to the bottom of the stairs--

damn i was carried up these things?

Spotting a blond and a read head; why are they dressed the same?

probably like close or something, ive done that with my best friend

Eddies voice breaking you from your thoughts

"So.. y/n this is Chrissy and Sarah.”

"Hi.." I say quietly but still politely

"Wow! the blonde says getting up to touch my hair; I flinch slightly but let her continue."Your hair looks so soft.. its full too, Sarah come feel-

Now watching the red head scoot on over to me, also having a feel of my hair "oh yeah, your hair reminds me of my mamas, it was also so healthy like this-

"Oh, where is she ? you ask

"She left me."

I swallow automatically feeling horrible "o-oh, im sorry about that

"Eh, that's okay Sarah says surprisingly not sad, " I found a better family being here on the farm"

"wait what do you--

I get interrupted.

At the corner of your eyes, hearing a new male voice, spotting him

damn whos that?

ive never seen such hair on a dude that looks so.. healthy?

"Steve!!" Chrissy yells making you jump ,"come feel y/ns hair its just bout as soft as yours, if not softer"

you look at her with wide eyes saying "Oh thats ok"-

by the time you’ve finished your sentence Steves making it all the way over to you

"Ooh this is soft, very very soft actually."

you look up to him immediately taking in his features

moles, pretty eyes…wow his hair does look good.. i kinda wanna touch it--

NO! dumbass

snapping out of it, you hear steves voice again but his mouths not moving

am i having a stroke?

“Kurt, Kurtie come meet y/n”

who the hell is kur—

I look over seeing the same face as Steve’s

oh fuck theres another one?

“Hi y/n im Kurt, Steves twin brother”, he grabs your hand to shake and you’re just standing there with amazement not replying

he looks.. the exact same as Steve but something is different..

his hair.. a bit more flat..unwashed maybe?

damn he looks good though

feeling a hand graze your back, forgetting to breathe

“Miss y/n ya feelin alright?”

It’s Eddies voice, and hand that clears your head

“ Oh..uh yeah, sorry guess I was a bit stunned to see that uh Kurt? and Steve look exactly alike” I say slightly chuckling and finally turning around to look at Eddie

shit

its much brighter in here

Eddie. so this is what he looks like

his hair in a low ponytail, tanktop covefred by a flannel..tattoos? dirty overalls and are those buny slippers?

he catches your gaze to the floor and the confusion on you face

he laughs. “Oh these are Chrissy’s bedroom shoes, havent put my boots on yet and our dog chewed mine all to hell” he smiles widely

looking back at him, “Oh no it looks fine to me..”

you melt at the warmth of his smile

are those dimples. damnit thats my weakness

“ I got your food warmed up for you”

“oh cool, t-thank you” i say following him to the kitchen table, i turn back to give a slight wave to rest of the house then back to following Eddie

——————

“She seems nice, dosent she? Sarah says outloud

“Yeah and so pretty too, kinda jelous of her hair” Chrissy states

“Now dear—, Kurt starts “you know jelously is never good for the heart”

“ I know” Chrissy says “i dont mean it as a bad thing..its like i want her hair type of thing i promise and besides, Steve you felt her hair, its soft like yours wouldnt ya say?”

“Yes, its real soft honey” he replies licking his lips as he looks in your direction from the livingroom. “..real soft he mumbles to himself heading to the sink

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After sitting down to with Eddie looking down at my plate theres a biscuit, eggs, bacon and fresh cut fruit

“Looks good” i say glacing at him with a small smile

“Thanks” he grins, watching you eat lookin around to see if anyones around

“Now i wont push, but do you wanna tell me why and how i found you in my barn asleep?”

I swallow hard on my strawbeery a bit too harshly coughing, grabbig the water that was also placed on the table, sipping it

clearing your throat looking nervously. he notices.

“Its okay, i wont tell the others if you would like this to be private.. but it is my farm and i just need to know whata young lady like you was cuddling up in my barn

nodding understaningly “yeah no, i totally understand, a few miles after walking”—

—“you walked here?” he asks worried

“Yeah, it was fine ive walked in the dark plenty of times. It doesn’t scare me” he nods for you to continue. “Me and my probably now ex boyfried got into a big fight, found out he cheated he called me crazy when the proof was physically all over his neck,—“ you dont notice you’re just rambiling now—

—and he wanted to be a dick and leave me on the street and just.. left! can you belive that shit..asshole”

—oh shit sorry” i cover my mouth

“Thats okat sweetheart i cuss all the time”

theres that gut wrenching twist from that name again.

“Uh, may i ask, you said "probably" broke up? are you not certain?”

“Oh no i am, i dont stay with cheaters no matter how long we’ve been together”

“ And how long is that?”

“6 years..”

his eyes widen and shakes his head dissaprovingly, “Thats alot time hun, I am sorry about that”

“Eh, his actions over the years start to make sense to me now.. its honestly not surprising he did cheat..makes me wonder how many times he truly has..” you say pushing your food around shrugging

“Eddie reaches over placing his hand over yours soothingly, catching your line

I get chills from the warmth and rough feeling of his hand, finally looking at his face in full—

how did i not see those before? asking myself

his..his eyes their so beauifu—

“Hey yn/!”

both Eddie and you separate hands, jumping back at Chrissy’s sudden surpise

“Y-yes?” you say slighlty annoyed

i kinda miss the warmth of his hand

bitch, calm down you have a boyfeind

no the fuck i dont

“What can i do for you Chrissy?”

“..well, i wanted to ask if you could braid?” she say sitting down at the table beside you

“Yeah, i can why do you ask?”

she sighs, “nobody in the house knows how to braid but Eddie, and his dry hands yank my baby hairs too much”—

“Hey! its not my fault” Eddie interjects

“ I gave you lotion for it ya know”

“Yeah you did, and i keep forgetting to use it” you chuckle causing them both to smile at each other and then at you

“was wondering when you’re done and if you wouldn’t mind..if you could braid my hair?”

i mean.. shes harmless its just hair

“Yes, I was just finsihing up anyways”

“Chris? what do we say when we ask for somethig?” Eddie arches his brow at her

“Sorry.. please?”

your eyes slighly scrunch, “thats okay I was going to anyways” i say back to Eddie

“ I know hun, just know its good to have manners is all” I nod at is reply turning to braid the back of her hair, seeing Eddie at the corner of your eye, to take your cleared plate. you stop him

“Oh i could have taken that for you “ saying looking up at him walk to the kicten

“Thats alright, i was headed this way anyway” he says winking at you before clearing the room

----------

Walking back to the sink Eddie spots the twins, emptying your plate turning to make conversation. “So what do you think Ed?” Steve asks “Yeah, whats your thoughs on y/n?” Kurt adds—“she looks nice,—and very sweet too” Steve says looking at Eddie, then all 3 of them look back at you, admirng you braid Chrissy’s hair

“Yeah, she is a sweet one isn’t she?” real..sweet thinks Eddie snapping out of stare

“Hey, aren’t yall suppsoed to be rollin them hay bells we got extra from Rick yesterday, its gonna storm I’m pretty sure, and i dont need them gettin all soggy”

Both Kurt and Steve groan, nodding heading out the door grabbing their hats on their way out.

After finishing Chrissy’s hair and her thankinng you with a hug, skipping out, I make my way over to the kitchen spotting a phone, then Eddie beside it,

“Can i use your phone?, I think it was about time i get out of your hair and find a way home”

“Sure darlin, but it may not work, the service out here is very poor”

you nod and he moves letting you continue with your task

dialing the only person you can think to call.

fuck.

Ashton.

1 dial, 2 dial, 3 times trying his phone you exhale agitated

maybe he can take me home?

“Mr. Eddie?”

going to find where he went seeing him standing and turning up the weather channel hearing:

Today the forcast shows severe thunderstorms and hail later today at 2pm–

I glance at the clock on the wall reading 1:55pm

shit

-and 2 tornado watches. There hasn’t been a tornado in Hawkins in 6 years, the dry weather must be causing this it. the woman jokes on the televishon, while you trun around to go look outside at the clouds.

Eddie watches and follows along, trying not to scare you, walking out of the backdoor also

“By the looks on your face im assuming nobody answered huh?”

“hm? looking back from the sky to him, —“oh no.. he didn’t of course he didn’t, prick i utter.

“ I’m assuming your ex boyfriend?”

“Ashton yeah, called 3 times probably out fucking another whore” you say spit vomiting cuss words

“Gosh, sorry! I know i have anasty mouth”

his cheeks flush at your statement, “no, its quite alright sweetheart , im not judging you”

you nod giving a tight lipped smile, looking at the ground not knowing what do now—

“ I can try and take ya home? you have anyone else who can”—

interrupting him, knowing hes probably talking about your parents

—“my parents? yeah no thats a joke..”

He comes up closer with a hand on your shoudler, which you eye subtlely “May i ask what happend with them? if you dont mind?”

“Its fine, my dads an abusive drunk and my step mom.. shes every bad word I could think of right now”—

“Wheres your real mom?”

damn so may questions

you shift your eyes uncomfortably he notices hes gone too far

“ I-im sorry, I keep just a nit picking arent i..?”

“No, its a funny story..shes actually married to my boyfriends father”

“Oh” he says in actual shock

“ I know right” reading his face. “ it’s a crazy story, maybe another time”—

so you want another time too? He thinks

—“and by looks at the sky”—

both jumping at the sound of rumbled thunder and instant rain and hail falling out if th sky

“Jesus Christ!”

I hear from afar turing to see both Steve and Kurt holing ass back to the house with soaked shirts

oh god

making way for them to get inside along with Eddie and you—

“Well.. sorry miss y/n i dont think its too safe to attempt to drive you home right now”

my heart pangs with a odd feeling. “Thats alright its safer to wait, right?”

“..Right, welp, just you make yourself at home until then and let me know if you need anything okay sweetheart?”

“Y-yes, I will thank you mr Eddie”

“Just Eddie” he smiles at the name walking off, leaving you here standing by yourself, taking in a real look at the house, spotting the girls, choosing to go take a seat with them on the couch

what the hell am i supposed to do!?

arguing with myself glancing to the right, spotting the twins with Eddie working on some door frame; catching him smile deeply at you

I gulp giving him a quick smile then turning my attention back to whatever’s on the tv screen, in silence.

Reblogs appreciated :>

[glitterslag]

aight, not sure if that has been done before...... stranger things characters as pornhub comments let's get it

[rose-n-gunses]

Thinking about Chrissy who finally gets out of her parents' house and goes off to college but didn't realize how much she would miss her brother when she did.

He's the only other person who knows what it's like to be in that house and he's always been her ride or die. They played together when they were little and he stuck by her when she broke up with Jason and lost all of her "friends" and always wanted to hang out with her when nobody else would. He always looked up to her and made sure she knew she was worth it and loved and as he got bigger he'd stand up for her to anyone who gave her trouble.

She lets him come stay with her at school sometimes and she drives him around the city and they hang out like they used to because even though she's got good friends now he's still her baby brother and her best friend and she loves him

[findafight]

Eddie's never met a Jedi. Of course he hasn't. But he's seen a Jedi, way back during the clone wars, when a battalion had helped after seppies had targeted civilian supply lines.

Eddie's pretty sure they were Kel Dor, what with the breathing apparatus. They'd worn tan and woody robes, long and elegant and flowing as they'd weaved between people, helping them stand or tending to wounds.

What had stood out to Eddie, watching this being that was supposedly a fierce warrior of light, was that they...were normal. They laughed and shrugged and cooed at babies, just like anyone else.

That was until the Jedi had raised their hands and lifted a two-tonne shipping crate into the air without so much as touching it. It frightened Eddie, then. Barely twenty and in the middle of a war his planet didn't want a part of. Beings that could lift and toss objects too heavy to move without machinery like they were playthings are not to be unwary of.

Of course. Eddie had spent a lot of the redistribution of rations effort around clones. They'd seemed...fine? While he is no stranger to speaking his mind he had thought well enough ahead that he probably shouldnt ask if they'd wanted to be there. Figured that might get him kicked off the project and he needed the money.

He listened instead. How they called each other things like Spoon and Duck and Trinity and Loopback as though they were names. Maybe they were. Eddie didn't know and didn't want to ask at the time.

But the Clones had been friendly, if formal. They spoke of their general with fondness and respect and a tinge of awe that felt appropriate to seeing what a Jedi was capable of frequently.

Eddie had liked them.

And then Empire Day came, and the Jedi were declared traitors and the galaxy as he knew it fell apart.

It never made much sense, from what Eddie had seen, for the Clones to kill the Jedi. But nobody asked Eddie, so Eddie didn't say. He did get sucked into the Rebellion though, and heard rumours about mind control and sith and a dozen other things.

So no. Eddie had never met a Jedi. But he'd seen one.

Chrissy had spoken about the rumoured Jedi (or-- not-jedi? She said they often refused the title) that stayed in the small Rebel enclave they've been helping. There were two, apparently. She'd met them, even, during a debrief where she'd been discussing how to better use their resources to help her contacts on the Freedom Trail. They'd barrelled in and spoken in such a way that Chrissy would have swore they were of the same mind, had they not been on opposite ends of the room.

"they were polite." Chrissy said, headtail twitching. "For people who interrupted an important meeting." Eddie'd laughed. "One, the Balosar man, he was very insistent that we delay our plans. The other, I think she was human? It's hard to tell, said the force was calling to them and very insistent about it during meditation."

"seriously? And the generals did it?"

"oh no. They argued for another twenty minutes before the not-Jedi threw up their arms and said, in unison Eddie!, 'The shipment will be lost if you go ahead with it. Better late than never, pricks.' and walked out."

So. On an abstract level, Eddie knew that whenever he entered the hangar bay to run maintenance or completely rebuild a ship, there was a chance for him to meet a former? Jedi.

He'd gotten well acquainted with a group of teenagers there, ones who were friends with the younger brother of the heir apparent to the region they were in and liked the make-believe games he ran in his off hours. But he never really thought about the Jedi that supposedly haunted the base until a woman shouted for Dustin, a rodian who was part of his little sheepies and had literal stars in his eyes when Eddie spoke, to come over. Dustin, the betrayer, jumped up and dashed off without even a word of goodbye.

"okay, so the head mechanic needs this-" she gestures to a small smuggling freighter that had seen far better days "hunk of junk out of the way so they can start work on a couple of x-wings. Steve and I figured we could help her out and get you to work on control of larger objects."

Eddie meandered casually over. Just to watch. Just to...see.

Dustin bounced on his feet. "Really? Woah! Where are we putting it?"

She pointed up, to the open vertical entry doors that created the roof of the hanger. "Steve's up there, he'll make sure if your control slips we don't crush the ship or anyone on the floor once you get it high, and he'll get it out and place it where it's supposed to go. I'll be here with you so you don't hurt yourself."

"I'm not gonna hurt myself."

She patted his head "yeah. Cuz I'm right here making sure."

"uhg. Almost wish I never learned you guys used to be Jedi."

"and who would train you then? No one. You and El would be sad little tooka kits all on your lonesome." She raised her voice to yell at the roof, "you ready Stevie?" and it should not have been loud enough to carry, the tone of an after thought, as though she already knew the answer and the question was just for the spectators, but the figure silhouetted waved.

Then, Dustin took a steadying breath, raised his arms, and closed his eyes. Slowly, the ship in front of him groaned and rose up. A crowd had formed, watching a magic thought extinct.

The woman's eyes darted between Dustin and the freighter, one hand loosely outstretched. It occurred to Eddie that neither wore the tunics and robes of Jedi. Dustin ran around in the mismatched pants and shirts of the Rebels' donations, while the woman wore deep greens. There were no dramatic sleeves that swished when they moved, just slightly loose fabric fastened by a belt and holster. He wonders if she ever wore them.

Dustin struggled for a moment, the ship quivering ten feet up, and the woman tensed slightly before he loosened. Eyes open, she deftly moved her arms up with the ship following, an ease in her movements that Dustin lacked. When she dropped her arms as well, the freighter stayed moving upwards, the other not-Jedi, Steve, likely taking over.

"good work for your first go." She said, draping an arm casually over Dustin's shoulders.

"I barely got it off the ground! Don't patronize me, Robin."

Eddie stepped in "considering I wouldn't even be able to move it sideways an inch, I'd say you did pretty well, Dustin."

The kid spun, just as the light comes shining back through as Steve maneuvered the ship out of the hangar. "Eddie! You saw?"

He scoffed "uh. Yes? Why didn't you tell me this is what you did when Im not around"

The woman-Robin, Eddie supposed, tensed. "It's not particularly safe to boast about it. Especially when it's not clear if you're alone."

Ah. Yeah. That did make sense. "Then why practice in a hangar with two dozen people around?"

She shrugged, and looked up. Eddie followed her sightlines and "wait is he gonna-" just as the figure that must be Steve launched himself off the edge of the open roof and towards them. He landed, he's leather jacket flapping behind him, and stood straight, grinning.

Robin laughed. "You'll give someone a heart attack one of these days, Steve."

"eh. No one's died so far."

Dustin smiled too "I'm getting pretty good at my controlled falls too! Oh, Steve, this is Eddie!"

And then Steve turned his gaze on Eddie, and his brain may have melted.

Steve looked like a spacer, windswept from the fall and leather jacket snug around his shoulders, two different holsters visible, his pants deliciously tight. He ran a hand through his hair, his antennapalps bobbing, and stuck it out for a shake.

"so, you're the great Eddie Munson Dustin hasn't shut up about? Good to meet you."

"mmhmm!" He forced his hand out to jerkily shake Steve's. Jeez. It was as though he'd never seen anyone beautiful before. His best friend was a Twilek dancer (and spy) for star's sake. He needed to get it together. Jedi didn't date, Eddie was pretty sure. Something about the force or power or devotion or something. He wasn't sure. He wasn't a Jedi. He wasn't a not-Jedi either.

Steve only smiled and turned back to Dustin. "So. Next time you need to let the Force flow. You're still trying to shove it, which never works. You direct it, like changing the course of a river."

"but not," Robin added seamlessly, and oh, wow, that was weird than you Chrissy "like a dam. Trying to block it won't give you strength. You're more..."

"using a log to ensure the water finds a different path."

"to go where you want it to go, do what you want it to do, without preventing it's natural flow."

"you guys are so annoying." Dustin huffed. "You know that? You can claim it's your Concordance of Fealty all you want but I know your freaky thing is not normal for it." He groaned. "But sometimes I feel when you guys, like, shape it. Change it. What the kark is that about? If I'm not supposed to dam it, how do I change it and use it like you do?"

Both grinned "We're older. Master the basics, we must, before attempting the advanced, young one." The voice Steve used was croaky, an impression.

Dustin pulled a face. "Don't quote Grandmaster Yoda at me!"

Robin and Steve laughed, leaning on each other. Suddenly, Eddie felt as though he was intruding. Though they hadn't told him to leave, they were sharing about...about a relative, Eddie guessed. Someone near to them and their almost-dead culture.

"I can quote him all I want, I drank enough of his atrocious tea to deserve it!"

"he's dead. You're going to sit here and insult your dead great-grandmaster, the last Grandmaster of the Order?"

Steve got Dustin in a headlock "while we mourn their loss, and acknowledge the pain of their untimely and unjust passing, we celebrate their memory. Yoda, the old frog, is one with the Force, and while I can wish for his guidance, I can also make fun of his vile cookies I had to eat at lineage dinners all I want."

"pretty sure they were barely considered edible for near-humans" Robin adds. She caught Eddie's eye, and winked. "Who's up for actually edible tea? Dustin can practice his fine control and pour for us.

Both Dustin and Steve groaned. "The kid is gonna spill all over us for fun, Bobbin."

Concept post Dustin discovers they're jedi

[itzchrissydoesstuff]

WEEEEEE my birthday is tomorrow!! I’m not ready AAAAHHHHH

[abellmunsonmovie]

_________________₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Writings₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊_______________ Eddie Munson┊₊✩

"What a day..." EddiexReader (fluff) “Sweeter Than Whiskey” EddiexReader (fluff/comfort kinda) "Eating Me Away" EddiexReader (comfort, fluff, angst) "Say Yes to Me" EddiexReader (fluff) "I Wouldn't Ever Hurt You" Ghostface!EddiexReader (Angst/Fluff) "Always take care of you" Dadsfriend!Older!EddiexF!Reader (Angst/Comfort/Fluff) "Self Care" EddiexF!Reader (Fluff/Comfort) "Tears and Pancakes" EddiexReader (Comfort/Angst?/Fluff) "You'll always be my girl" EddiexF!Reader (Comfort/Fluff/Hurt) "Sweetheart" Older!Dad!EddiexReader (Fluff pure fluff)

ships┊₊✩ "Our piece of heaven" BuckinghamxReader (Pure fluff)

[asbealthgn]

okay i'm making you choose!

i realize this is probably gonna be skewed bc i'm a steddie blog but i still wanna see! (and bc even though i'm a steddie blog i still voted robin)

[rogueddie]

When I say this, know that I feel very werid about all the older teens ages whenever I think about it, even though;

In my mind, Chrissy is freshly 18. Like, birthday in mid / late Feb or at the very beginning of March. I know a lot of people seem convinced that she must be younger, and I get where you're coming from, but I truly believe that she's 18.

It's why I don't feel werid at all in shipping her with Steve- who, as I've said before, I think would have recently turned 19 (by s4). They're not far off in age, barely a year apart, and both consenting adults*.

*And this is why I feel weird about it when I think about it because even 19 feels like baby years to me now. Like, I hear people say that Eddie is probably 20 and I'm like "oh my god, a baby".

[phantomrose96]

I've played like at least 12 hours of pikmin on the switch over the last week, which definitely surpasses the previous total cumulative amount of time I'd spent playing my switch ever since I got it in November 2018.

[foundtherightwords]

Same Streets, New Memories

Pairing: Eddie x Chrissy (No Vecna/No Upside Down AU)

Summary: Sixteen years after he got his diploma and ran like hell out of Hawkins, Eddie is forced to return home. Disappointed and disillusioned, he broods over his past failures, until a chance meeting with a certain former Queen of Hawkins High puts things into perspective for him.

A/N: This is mostly inspired by the song I Finally Love This Town by Tired Pony. Also, I've seen a lot of "rock star Eddie" fics, so I wanted to explore the opposite of that - what if he never made it big at all?

Warnings: angst (quarter-life crisis stuff - they're all in their mid-30s though, is that too late for a quarter-life crisis?), mentions of drug dealing, drug use, and drinking, some violence

Word count: 6.5k

"Hawkins!" the driver called out amidst the hissing of the brakes, jolting Eddie from the stupor he'd sank into since the Greyhound left Indianapolis. He sat up in his seat and rubbed his aching neck, trying to suppress a groan. Sometimes he'd forgotten he could no longer fall asleep in any position and wake up just fine. For one thing, he wasn't nineteen anymore; for another, all those years spent pretzeled up into all sorts of shapes in the van, on the floor, or on the couch of anyone kind enough to let him crash at their place, were catching up with him.

The bus door clunked open, and Eddie stepped off, blinking in the watery spring sun. It took him a while to recognize that Hawkins' Greyhound station was still in the same place—the parking lot of Palace Arcade and Family Video—because Family Video had been taken over by a Blockbuster, while a Starbucks had replaced the Palace.

It had been sixteen years since he left, and he wasn't prepared for the changes. They say you can never go home again. But what if the place had never felt like home in the first place?

He was one of the few that got off the bus. There were no familiar faces among the passengers or those that came to pick them up. All the better. He didn't want to see anyone he knew.

Hoisting his bag over his shoulder and picking up his guitar case, Eddie trudged toward Forest Hills Trailer Park. It was early March, yet the air was already muggy, even more uncomfortably so after the cool dryness of Los Angeles, and he ran an irritable hand through his fizzy hair, again regretting his decision to come home. Well, what were his options? Stay in LA and work some shitty job with shitty pay that couldn't even afford him a shitty apartment, or return to Hawkins and work some shitty job with shitty pay, but at least he could stay with Wayne in their shitty trailer so he could save money on rent? The second one was an obvious choice, even if it made his insides shrivel up in shame every time he paused long enough to think about it. The prodigal freak of Hawkins, slinking home with his tail between his legs... It'll be OK, he told himself without conviction. Humiliation rarely causes death.

As he walked through Hawkins, Eddie noticed all the changes in the landscape and the people, some subtle, some obvious, but changes nonetheless. Compared to the constant flux of LA, Hawkins seemed older, more tired, the people wearing a harsher look on their faces. He wondered how much of the changes came from himself.

At the turnoff, he almost collided with some spotty-faced kids rolling past on their skateboards. "Watch it, old man!" one of them yelled. The word stung. Eddie thought about giving them a piece of his mind, but thought better of it once he got a closer look at them. Jesus, did he ever look that young? He must have. And thirty-six is not old. Yet, watching those kids, with their frosted tips and the hems of their jeans dragging in the dust, he felt ancient, like Rip Van Winkle returning from his twenty-year-long sleep in the mountains.

But that feeling waned, the closer he got to the trailer. In fact, by the time he pushed open the door, it was as if no time had passed at all, and he was ten years old, getting dropped off by Hopper after Al got arrested yet again. By that point, Eddie had gotten used to staying with Wayne whenever his old man got into trouble, and neither of them had noticed when that particular stay had extended from days into weeks into months and finally years.

The trailer was a time capsule. There was the prehistoric TV by the door, the old faded rug on the floor, the cramped, messy kitchen. All the mugs and hats he'd given Wayne for Christmases and birthdays still lined the walls. It had started sort of as a joke one Christmas, when Eddie first started living with Wayne and couldn't think of a present for him. He had found a Garfield mug and bought it with the little money he had. Wayne had laughed upon opening it and given it the place of honor on the shelf over the TV. And so for Wayne's birthday next year, Eddie had bought him another mug, and another for Christmas, occasionally throwing in a hat just to keep Wayne on his toes, until it had become a tradition and Wayne had to put up new shelves around the living room for the mugs.

Eddie still remembered the Christmas he'd given Wayne a "World's Best Dad" mug.

"I'm sorry, they didn't have a 'World's Best Uncle' one," he'd mumbled apologetically. Wayne had said nothing, only clearing his throat and giving Eddie a tight hug.

And there was Wayne himself. Eddie looked at his uncle with sadness. When had Wayne become so worn out? Ever since Eddie knew him, he had seemed to have been born old, always of some undetermined age between forty-five and sixty, yet full of a quiet energy that never went out. Now, slumped in the rocking chair in front of the droning TV, he looked shrunk, a tired old man. Guilt pricked at Eddie's insides. He'd promised himself the first thing he'd do when Corroded Coffin got big was to get Wayne out of the trailer park and into a decent house, and not only had he failed, but he also had to ask Wayne to take him back.

Eddie sighed and gave Wayne's shoulder a gentle shake. The old man opened his eyes, blinking at his nephew.

"You're home," he said, as if Eddie had just left the previous day.

Eddie wondered if he'd ever really felt at home anywhere. Here, in this rundown trailer, with his gruff but kind uncle, was probably the closest he'd ever gotten. "Yeah," he said simply. "I'm home."

***

Eddie got a job as a bartender at the Hideout.

He suspected that Lenny, the owner, gave him the job for old times' sake more than anything, but it suited him just fine. It meant he got to go to work when most of the townspeople were already on their way home, so fewer chances of running into people he knew. Besides, those that knew him and might mock him didn't usually frequent the Hideout.

It didn't pay that well, and Eddie wondered if the idea of raising enough money to self-produce and release the next Corroded Coffin album was even plausible. He briefly considered dealing again. But even back in high school, he had never made much money from it, mostly just enough to buy a new record now and then. And he couldn't risk getting arrested. Plus, even if he wanted to, he wouldn't even know where to begin now.

"I had to get out, man," said Reefer Rick, when Eddie dropped by his house on Lover's Lake one afternoon. "Kids these days, they're so much tougher. Cannier. And they deal with the hard stuff. I couldn't keep up. I had this place. I had a nice bit of money put away. So I got out while I could." Rick was well on his way to middle age now, spending most of the time sitting on the porch drinking or even fishing on the lake, like those bozos they used to make fun of back in the day, and, oddly enough, he seemed content. Eddie envied him that.

Rick was one of the few old friends that Eddie saw. Eddie found his initial fear about running into people he knew laughable now, because there was almost no one left. All his friends from high school had moved away. His bandmates, Jeff and Grant, had gone to LA with him after graduation, but Gareth, who'd graduated a year later, never made it. "Sorry, man, my mom wants me to stay close," he'd said. They had found a replacement for him, but it was never quite the same.

One Sunday, Eddie ran into Gareth at the store. Gareth recognized him first, and no wonder—Gareth's hair was now cropped short, making his cherubic face look tired and much older than his thirty-three years.

"Holy shit, man, when did you get back?" he asked, giving Eddie a bear hug.

"Gareth, language!" hissed the woman holding a baby, standing just behind them at the check-out line.

"Sorry, hun," Gareth muttered and gave Eddie an embarrassed grin.

They caught up at the Hideout that night. Eddie was relieved to be able to unload to Gareth all about the band's struggle, as he knew no one else would understand. Gareth was understanding, but Eddie couldn't help feeling that his old friend was congratulating himself for not following them to LA and subjecting himself to such hardship. A boring life with a boring job and a boring wife in boring Hawkins was preferable to that. And then Gareth's pager beeped and he excused himself to get home because his wife needed help with the baby, and that was that.

The rest of Eddie's Hellfire buddies, all those lost sheep he'd taken under his wings, were gone too. Henderson was in MIT, working on his PhD. He still sent Eddie a Christmas card every year. Byers, the only one who could rival Eddie as a DM, was in California after Mrs. Byers and Hopper got married and moved the whole clan there, but they were in San Bernardino or somewhere, and Eddie never ran into them in LA. Wheeler had also gone to school there—he was dating Hopper's daughter at the time, if Eddie remembered correctly—and stayed. Sinclair, who had turned out better than Eddie had expected, given his association with the jocks, was working in Indianapolis. They had all done well for themselves.

So perhaps it was a good thing that they weren't here to see their fallen leader.

***

But not everyone left Hawkins. Some stayed. And sometimes, those who stayed were the fucking worst.

It was a usual night at the Hideout, with the regular crowd of five drunks. Nobody paid attention to the band, some lame punk cover act. Eddie wanted to feel bad for the band, remembering that Corroded Coffin had once been in their shoes, but he couldn't muster up the sympathy. Looking at their carefully ripped clothes and perfectly coifed hair, he knew this was just a hobby for them, a pastime to make themselves look cool, and could be easily left behind when they went back to the safety of their parents' houses and their cushy little lives. Then he caught himself and shook his head. Jesus, when did he become so bitter?

A group of men burst through the door, their raucous shouts and laughter putting an end to his dark thoughts. Eddie barely glanced at them. He'd seen enough of those, both in the few weeks he'd been working at the bar and back when he was playing here with Corroded Coffin. Suburban dads, most of them, out on their allotted once-per-week guys' night. Bored with the usual, they decided to check out the Hideout as the most underground place Hawkins had to offer. Ha. They wouldn't know underground even if they woke up buried in a six-foot grave.

Silently, he filled their orders and gave them to Trish, the server. She was one of the new hires—just out of school, barely old enough to be working at a bar—so Eddie made it a point to watch out for her when he could. "You'll be OK with those?" he asked, indicating the men sitting in their booth.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," she replied, though her face was grim.

The group stayed for a long time. As the night went on, they became louder, more obnoxious, and the grim set of Trish's mouth started to waver. She tried to act tough, but she was just a kid, really, and she was no match for those men.

After Trish brought the men their third rounds of tequila shots, Eddie heard a yell coming from the booth. "Get your hand off me!" It was Trish. She was grappling with one of the men, who was holding her by the waist, trying to pull her into the booth with him.

Eddie looked around. The band was gone, having finished their sets more than half an hour ago. Lenny wasn't even in. With a sigh, Eddie left the bar and approached the booth.

"Do we have a problem here?" he said.

"Damn right we do," said the man holding Trish. "You'd better teach your staff to be friendlier to the customers!"

"They are friendly. To those who can keep their hands to themselves," Eddie said, taking Trish's hand and pulling her up. She gave him a grateful look and scurried to the back.

The man got unsteadily to his feet. "Watch your fucking mouth," he snarled, giving Eddie a shove.

Eddie seized the man's wrist. "What did I say about keeping your hands to yourself?"

The man winced, and his friends glanced at each other, worried. "Fuck," the man said. Then he took a closer look at Eddie, and his eyes popped. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Munson? Eddie 'The Freak' Munson?"

Eddie's stomach dropped, and his grip on the man's wrist loosened. He stared back at the man. Square jaws, a low forehead, and small, arrogant eyes. Loathing stirred his memories. His mind's eye added a letterman jacket and a baseball hat, and the man's features solidified. One of Jason Carver's cronies from the basketball team. What was his name?

The man's mouth lifted in a mocking smile. "Well, well, well. What happened to 'fuck this town', Munson?"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Eddie said, ignoring the question.

"What are you going to do, kick me out?"

"Yes."

The others exchanged glances again, and Eddie was aware of how he looked in their eyes—a tall, intimidating guy in a leather jacket. Someone you don't want to mess with. One of them put his hand on the square-jawed man's shoulder. "Come on, Andy." Andy. That was it.

Andy jerked his shoulder away. "Don't let this freak scare you. All bark and no bite, aren't you, Munson?" he said, grinning at Eddie. "Just like in high school."

Eddie tried to swallow the hot gust of anger rising to his throat. "My bark is actually worse," he said evenly. "If you refuse to leave, I'm going to call the police."

Andy's friends had had enough. "Let's go, man. It's getting late anyway."

They filed out of the booth, throwing down money as they went. Andy still stared at Eddie, his already small eyes narrowed into angry slits, while his friends dragged him away.

***

After the bar closed, Eddie made sure that Trish was picked up by her boyfriend. It was four in the morning by the time he finished cleaning up and locking the door. As he walked through the parking lot that was still steeped in darkness, a voice called out, "Munson!"

Eddie turned around. It was Andy, standing by a car. What the hell?

"You really humiliated me tonight, you know that?" Andy said. By the slurring of his voice, his drinking hadn't stopped after he left the Hideout.

"You must have a really fragile ego, if that was enough to humiliate you," Eddie said, continuing to walk.

"Don't act all high and mighty with me, freak," Andy growled. "You were nothing in high school, and you're nothing now."

A haze of red came over Eddie's eyes, but he tried to keep it in check as he turned around.

"Hey man, I don't know what your problem is—" he began, but before he could finish, a fist landed on his cheek. Since said fist belonged to a guy who wasn't even standing straight, it didn't hurt much, but the surprise threw Eddie off his balance. Andy used the momentum to grab Eddie's shoulder and yank him down. Eddie's face collided with the car's side-view mirror.

Dazed, Eddie sat on the ground and touched his cheek. It stung where the mirror cut him, and his fingers came away wet with blood.

The haze of red slammed over his eyes again.

He jumped up and lunged at Andy.

What followed was a blur of punches, some connecting, either with flesh or metal, but most didn't. The more he missed, the angrier Eddie got. As if this bastard hadn't made his life miserable enough back in high school, he had to come to his work and attacked him as well. And for what? For ruining his night out with his buddies? As far as Eddie could see, Andy was doing a pretty good job of that himself.

Finally, Eddie had Andy by his neck against the car.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" he roared.

"Fuck you, fucking freak!" Andy spat out.

Suddenly the fight went out of Eddie. What the hell were they doing, two grown men having a pathetic drunken brawl over some imagined animosity nearly twenty years ago? He let go. Andy sank to the ground, and Eddie staggered away.

***

His cheek throbbing, Eddie found his way into the woods surrounding Hawkins. He couldn't let Wayne see him in this state. Better to walk off some steam and come up with some excuse before facing his uncle.

At this hour, the sun was not up yet, but it was no longer pitch dark. The woods lay silent under a cold gray half-light that sapped everything of color and life. The only sound was the squishing of the wet, dead leaves of many winters under his feet, and the only movement, other than his own, was the drip-drip-drip of water, either rain or dew, from the new buds onto his head. Irritated, he reached up to rub the wetness out of his scalp, and winced as he accidentally touched the cut on his face.

He shouldn't have let Andy get to him. The encounter left a sour taste in his mouth and a heavy weight, like a lead ball, in his guts. It wasn't simply anger or shame, or rather, it wasn't his usual shame of being a failure. It was the shame of feeling like he and Andy were similar. He hated the idea that he could have something in common with that jerk, but there it was. It was like they were still teenagers, ready to use their fists at the merest hint of an offense, always trying to prove themselves, trying to be cooler than this or that person. Eddie thought he'd grown out of that high school mentality, but apparently not. It only took coming back to Hawkins, being amongst these people, to bring out that aggressive side of him.

Perhaps coming home was a mistake.

A rustling made him look up. It was light enough now for him to glimpse, through the trees, a figure in a tracksuit, a jogger, a woman, blond hair bobbing along with her steps, running toward him. Shit. He didn't want to run into anyone, especially not right now, skulking through the woods with dry blood down his face and caked on his knuckles. They'd think he was a serial killer or something.

Eddie whirled around, trying to blend into the trees before he and the jogger crossed paths. A branch smacked him in the face, blinding him, making him lose his footing. He took a stumbling step back. The embankment he was standing on, already weak from the endless rain of the past week, gave way, and before he knew it, Eddie was plummeting down a slope, dead branches and rocks scratching at his face and arms as he went.

For a moment, he lay sprawled at the bottom of the slope, blinking up at the green dome above him, too stunned to move.

Then a face appeared in his view. A woman's face, full of concern.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Then the concern on her face slowly dissipated, replaced by surprise and recognition.

"Eddie Munson, as I live and breathe," she said. "I almost didn't recognize you with that beard." When Eddie didn't answer, she gave him a teasing smile. "Don't you remember me?" She extended a hand to help him up.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could sink into the earth and disappear right there and then. But when the trees remained above him, and the musty earth remained underneath him, he had no choice but to accept the helping hand and get to his feet.

"Hi, Chrissy," he said.

***

Chrissy Cunningham. The last person he'd want to run into, especially in his current state.

Though her hair was shorter and held back with a headband instead of pulled into a ponytail, she still looked exactly as he remembered, as she had in high school, those wide blue eyes, that bright smile showing a hint of her crooked front teeth. Next to her, Eddie felt like a tramp. Probably looked like a tramp too.

"You OK?" she asked, taking in his bedraggled and bloodied appearance.

"Uh, yeah."

"That's a nasty cut right there," she said, pointing to his elbow. It was only then that Eddie felt the searing pain. He must've snatched it on a rock or a broken branch. "You should get that cleaned up, or it'll get infected." Without waiting for an answer, she took his other elbow and guided him up the other side of the slope. "Let me go grab a first-aid kit from school, and I can take care of that for you."

"What school?"

Chrissy stared at him. "Hawkins High, of course."

"Are we that close?"

"Don't you recognize this part of the woods?"

They were up on the opposite side of the slope now, and Eddie saw an old picnic table and bench set, all rusty and weather-beaten, by a tree stump that stood like a sentinel over the place. He immediately recognized it. He must've been too pissed off about his encounter with Andy to realize where he was walking.

"Wait here," Chrissy said. "I'll be back in a minute."

As she jogged off, Eddie thought about running away himself. But that would be ridiculous. She'd already seen him. How embarrassing would it be if she came back and found out he'd ran away like some coward? Besides, the fall had left him too sore to move. He gingerly sat down on one of the benches, afraid it would collapse from his weight, and cast a look around. Back in his schooldays, this had been the hangout for the stoners and the burnouts, and there had always been some empty beer cans and cigarette stubs scattered about. Now add to that some old needles, and he could've sworn he saw a used condom too. Jesus. Even this place had gone to the dogs.

What twist of fate had sent him here, and into the path of Chrissy Cunningham, of all people?

Of all the drug spots in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...

Before he could contemplate that, Chrissy was back, bringing with her a first-aid kit. "So when did you get back?" she asked, lifting Eddie's elbow and cleaning the wound with practiced hands.

"A few weeks ago," Eddie replied, trying not to hiss at the sting of the rubbing alcohol.

"Are you just visiting? You're some big rock star out on the West Coast now, aren't you?"

Eddie was glad that her face was bent over his elbow, so she couldn't see the half-downcast, half-furtive look on his face. But his honesty won out. "Hardly," he mumbled. "Our albums sold like twenty copies each, and I think Jeff's mom—you know Jeff, right?—I think his mom bought most of them." He chuckled to show that he was joking, and Chrissy smiled back.

"I'd love to have a listen," she said. He knew she was just saying that to be polite, but it didn't stop butterflies from fluttering in his stomach. "I know it's not the same as seeing you guys live..." She lifted her eyes briefly to his face, before looking down again. "I always regret not making it to one of your shows at the Hideout, you know."

Eddie stared at her bent head, not knowing what to say. Being here with her and talking about Corroded Coffin and the Hideout brought back memories of another day in March, sixteen years ago. Back then, he'd felt, if not on top of the world, then at least pretty near it.

And that night... if he hadn't felt on top of the world that afternoon when he made Chrissy Cunningham laugh, then he'd certainly felt it that night.

It felt just like yesterday, the two of them driving back to his trailer after the successful conclusion of his Cult of Vecna campaign, trying the Special K, and then just staying up and talking. He couldn't remember what they'd talked about. All he remembered was a sense of... not happiness, exactly, but contentment, and it wasn't because of the Special K. No, it was because Chrissy had been there and she'd felt safe with him, and he with her.

He had never asked why she'd wanted to try the Special K. Later, as he drove her home, she'd asked him to drop her off a little further away so she could walk to her front door, and he'd guessed the reason, but hadn't pressed her about it.

"Sure, no problem," he'd only said, watching the way she twisted her fingers in her lap and fighting the urge to reach out, to put his hand over hers, and tell her everything would be alright. "I'll stay here and keep watch until you're inside."

She'd said thank and leaned over, perhaps to plant a kiss on his cheek, but at the same time, he'd turned his head to tell her "You're welcome", and the kiss had landed on his mouth instead. They'd both jolted back, embarrassed, only to be drawn back toward each other, inexorably, irresistibly, until her lips had found his again, deliberately this time. He still remembered the softness of her mouth, the taste of her lip gloss, the way she'd melted into his arms as he pulled her close...

He should've known it was too good to be true.

Queens of Hawkins High don't go around kissing freaks.

Chrissy had pulled away from him abruptly, ran out of his van, and disappeared into the night. When they got back to school after spring break, she'd actively avoided him.

Looking back, he realized that had been the first in the long string of disappointments that was to be his life for the following sixteen years.

And now here she was, talking as if nothing had happened.

It still stung, but he tried not to let it show.

"I didn't know you were in town," he said, changing the subject.

"Oh, I moved back a couple of years ago."

That surprised him. After leaving Hawkins, he'd tried hard not to think about Chrissy, but when he did, usually after some heavy drinking or after a late gig, when he felt particularly lonely, he'd imagined that she was leading a perfect life somewhere. Moving back to this shithole didn't seem that perfect.

And if she was here and Jason wasn't, that meant...

Eddie found himself glancing at her hand. No ring.

"My dad's passed, and my mom's had a stroke, so I moved back to help out," she explained. Eddie could feel all the years apart stretching out between them like a gulf. Their lives were so separate, so different.

"Shit. That's rough. I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "Moving back was a relief. I wasn't doing great in Chicago anyway. Divorced, working a dead-end job..."

"Oh. Sorry." Then, because he couldn't help himself: "Jason?"

She actually laughed, but there was no bitterness in it. "No. We broke up right after graduation. Just a few days after you left, in fact. He's married with a couple of kids now, living in Bloomington, I think."

She remembered when he left? Nah, don't be stupid. She only remembered 'cause that was when she broke up with that prick...

"What about you?" Chrissy asked.

"Me?"

"You married?" Was it his imagination, or did her nonchalance seem a little forced?

Eddie smiled ruefully. "Almost did, once."

"What happened?"

"She wised up." After that, it was just a string of fleeting relationships and meaningless hook-ups. More disappointments.

They talked about their classmates for a while—Nancy, Wheeler's sister, Miss Valedictorian, now a journalist in New York, Robin Buckley and Vickie Ryan, who shocked Hawkins when they started dating after graduation and then moved away together, and Billy Hargrove, the bad boy of their class, who was killed in a car accident in '92.

"Shit. Sounds like everybody left Hawkins," he said.

"Some stay. Some even came back," she said, gesturing to him and herself.

"That's only because they have no choice."

"No, I think it's nice to come back to a familiar place. You always know where you are. And if the place's changed... well, you've changed too, so that's even."

He hadn't thought of it like that. Suddenly the whole moving back home thing didn't seem so bad after all.

"You should be a motivational speaker, Cunningham," he said, trying to sound dry. "Have you considered that as a career?"

"I already kind of am, with the cheer squad."

"You're still cheering?"

"No, coaching." She perked up. "Didn't I tell you? I'm the cheer coach at Hawkins High now. Hard to believe, right?"

"No, not at all. You were always good at that." He remembered Chrissy in middle school, how young they'd been, how enthusiastic—how long ago was that, over twenty years? Jesus. No wonder he felt old.

"The only thing I'm good at, you mean."

"No, no," Eddie quickly said. "Well, you're good at this too," he added lamely, indicating the first-aid kit.

"I did study to be an RN." She finished bandaging up the large wound on his elbow and moved on to his other cuts and scrapes.

"So why—"

"Dropped out my third year." There was an awkward silence, but Chrissy didn't seem embarrassed. "I just couldn't cope with the stress, and there was no one to sell me half an ounce of weed at a discount," she said, twinkling at him, and he couldn't help smiling back at her.

That smile disappeared when Chrissy asked, "So, any exciting new project with Corroded Coffin coming soon?" Seeing Eddie's face fall, she sobered up. "I'm sorry, was that—"

"No, it's OK."

Eddie felt like opening up to her. Perhaps they weren't so different after all. Perhaps she'd understand.

"Well"—here Eddie took a deep breath, and the truth he'd been hiding came out in a rush—"there won't be any new stuff. Not for a while anyway. We got dropped by the label. The last album didn't sell that well, so they dropped us."

And there it was. The reason why he had to come home, the reason he felt like a failure. It had taken them years to get signed, and when it was only to an indie label, he and the guys had told themselves it was for the best, it would give them more independence. As it turned out, an indie label was less likely to interfere with their creative process, it was true, but it didn't interfere much with anything else either. They were left floundering, having to do almost everything themselves. Ten years of that would put a strain on anyone.

Without Gareth, they went through a string of replacement drummers, none lasting more than a few years, since they had never been part of Hellfire and didn't share their camaraderie. Then, when the label dropped them, it had been the last straw. They had held on for as long as they could, but eventually, when Grant and Jeff quit, Eddie had no choice but to quit as well. Grant had gone back to Hawkins for a while, then left again, having found a job in Detroit. Jeff, the rock of their group, was the only one who stayed in LA, working as a session musician. He had tried to convince Eddie to stay as well, but Eddie couldn't stand watching some other bands hit it big while he was forced to play someone else's music. To him, it would be a special form of Hell. So he'd gone home, feeling like he'd failed his bandmates, his uncle, and himself.

Chrissy listened to all that in sympathetic silence. No judging, no mocking, no clichéd advice or words of encouragement, just a softening of her eyes and a gentle squeeze of her hand on his arms as she placed Band-Aids on his cuts.

"Do you ever feel like you're a failure?" he asked, by way of a conclusion.

She peered at him for a moment before answering. "Oh just... you know, on a daily basis."

Those words rang a bell in Eddie's mind. He looked up to see Chrissy grinning crookedly at him, but there was some self-deprecation in that grin that made him realize how tactless his question had been.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean—"

"No, it's OK." Her smile got a little brighter. "I don't mind being a failure. Takes a lot of pressure off." When he raised a questioning eyebrow at that, she continued, "When you're already a failure, people don't expect much from you. You're free to live your life how you want, no need to live up to anyone's bullshit standard."

Eddie tilted his head to look at Chrissy more closely and realized his first impression of her had been wrong. She had changed. He could hardly recognize her from the nervous girl who jumped at the mere cracking of a branch when they met at this very bench sixteen years ago. She seemed... not exactly more confident, but rather, she no longer cared what others thought of her. Still, even back then, there had been a wild streak in her, a devil-may-care attitude that had driven her to buy drugs from him and agreed to come back to his trailer with him. Time and experiences had mellowed it, but it was still there. The same wild streak that had drawn him to her in the first place.

Chrissy finished with his arms and stood up so she could clean the cuts on his face.

"Do you remember that night before spring break, back in '86?" she said.

Their eyes met, and he held his breath. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I ran off like that. I'm sorry I ignored you in school afterward. It was—stupid of me. I cared too much about what other people thought."

So she remembered. And understood.

Eddie let out a breath, not just the one he'd been holding, but also the one that had his chest in a tight grip ever since he moved back home. With that breath, he also let go of all the heartache, guilt, and shame of the past. None of it mattered anymore. If he kept clinging to them, he would be no better than Andy.

He reached for Chrissy's hand, which was resting on his cheek. "You're not the only one," he said.

As she looked into his eyes, he would've given anything to be able to stay like that forever, with Chrissy standing over him, her face bent toward his, their hands intertwined, and the sun shining softly through the trees behind her, turning her gold hair into a perfect halo.

A branch snapped somewhere in the woods, breaking the spell.

Eddie cursed under his breath. His only consolation was that Chrissy was looking slightly flustered and disappointed, while she packed up the first-aid kit.

As she turned to leave, Chrissy blurted out, "Why don't you come to the game this Friday night? It'll be a walk down memory lane—oh, sorry." She winced. "I forgot that you don't care about—what did you call it? A game where you—"

"—where you toss balls into laundry baskets," Eddie said with a rueful smile. "I did say a lot of stupid shit back then. No, you don't have to apologize. It's just that—I have to work Friday night."

"Oh."

"But you're welcome at the Hideout anytime," he said, emboldened by her crestfallen look. "Drinks are on me."

Her face brightened. "I'll hold you to that."

"So... guess I'll see you around then?" he asked.

"Looks like it." She flashed him another crooked smile and walked off, while Eddie remained at the bench, feeling like he was fourteen again.

***

Wayne came out of the bedroom to find his nephew sitting on the fold-out bed. When Eddie first came home, Wayne had tried to give the bedroom back, saying the fold-out had served him well for ten years and would serve him well again, but Eddie had vehemently refused. His reason was that he was the one working nights now, and he didn't want to wake Wayne up when he came home early in the morning. In the end, Wayne had relented. He knew Eddie's guilt about having to move back in with him; no need to make the boy feel worse than he already did.

Eddie's face was bruised and bandaged, but he was looking more content than Wayne had ever seen him since he came home. And he had taken his guitar out of its case and was strumming a soft melody, occasionally stopping to jot something down in a battered old notebook in front of him. Wayne took that as a good sign.

"Mornin'," he said, shuffling toward the kitchen, making no comment on Eddie's late return or injuries. "You want some breakfast?"

"Hmm," Eddie replied distractedly, his attention still on the notebook.

It was his first attempt at writing a song in about eight months. He was a little rusty, but it felt good to pick up the guitar.

They say you can never go home again. But what if you can make the place feel like home? By peopling it with those that you know and love, and those that know you and, perhaps, if not love, then at least like you back?

She'd asked him to a game.

She'd said she'd see him around.

Maybe he could get someone to cover his shift...

"Hey Wayne," Eddie said, looking up from his guitar. "You ever watch a basketball game at Hawkins High?"

Wayne turned away from the pan of sizzling bacon to eye Eddie suspiciously. "Since when did you become interested in high school basketball?"

"Since today."

"Why?"

"No reason." Eddie shrugged, then he grinned, that familiar ear-to-ear grin that Wayne hadn't seen in a long, long time. "Just wondering if I could suffer through it this Friday night."

A/N: OK, I meant for this to be a one-shot, but my brain kept screaming at me to add more, so maybe I will expand on it later… not as a full multi-chaptered fic, but as a series of interconnected one-shots. We'll see.