#CCFest

[steddie-island]

A cut above

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest day 6: The cutting edge Rating: G | WC: 642 | Tags: Post- Vecna, Eddie Munson lives ao3 | Divider credit

The dark eyes in the mirror were the same, but everything else in Eddie's reflection had changed. A deep red scar ran along one side of his face in a way that pulled his mouth a little tighter. The hollows of his eyes were more purple, deeper and darker than they'd ever been before. His cheekbones were more angular— he chalked that up to hospital food and anxiety eating away at his appetite.

Eddie lifted a hand to his hair, his fingers tracing over the curls. He prayed once more that he would see them bounce back to life. They stayed there, limp and lifeless, as lifeless as he'd been before Steve had pulled him up and out of the Upside Down. Only Steve couldn't save his hair. He'd tried, had spent hours with conditioner and a comb, trying to spin silk from straw. Unlike Eddie, his hair was too far gone to save.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked as he met Eddie's gaze in the mirror. "We can keep trying, take you to a salon or something…"

"I'm sure." Eddie held onto the towel around his shoulders with a white-knuckle grip. "It'll be easier this way. It's a fresh start, right?"

"Right." Steve squeezed Eddie's shoulder and picked up the scissors.

The bathroom was silent as the first cut was made, then the second. Strands of hair cascaded from Eddie's shoulders to pile up at their feet. There wasn't as much pain as he'd expected at the sight of his curls falling to their death. Instead he became fixated on the fingers lifting different sections of his hair carefully, making sure to cut everything just so, to not nick Eddie when he came closer to Eddie's ears, his forehead, to any part of him. Steve could have just piled all of Eddie's hair on the top of his head and cut it from there, but he wasm't doing that.

Each cut was made with so much care and deliberation. If it'd been up to Eddie he would've used Wayne's clippers, gotten rid of everything and called it a day. Steve, though, seemed to be sorting out the good (which there wasn't much of) and the bad (of which there was plenty).

"How's that?"

Eddie wasn't sure how long he sat there, how long Steve's hands worked him over. He'd sort of zoned out and was brought back by the softness of Steve's voice beside his ear.

Most of his hair was gone. There was nothing to pull over his face and hide behind anymore. What remained were little curls that were cropped close to his head. Everything looked neat and even and not dead.

Eddie reached up with one hand to pluck at the longest curls Steve had left in the front. "I think… it'll be an adjustment. " The curl sprang back into place and Eddie met Steve's gaze in the mirror again. "I miss my long hair." He shook the towel off over his shoulders, sending more hair raining down to the ground.

"I also think that you were right. I would've regretted it if I'd just… cut everything off again." Eddie turned to face Steve, his expression soft and warm. "Thank you, Stevie."

Steve reached up to brush the curls off of Eddie's forehead. "I think we've gotten pretty good at making adjustments by now." His hand lingered there against the scarred side of Eddie's face.

"Yeah. I guess we have." Eddie took Steve's other hand and brought it to his lips. "Do you still love me with short hair?"

"Hmm… I might have to think about that," Steve teased. He smiled and leaned in to catch Eddie's lips in a tender kiss.

Scars, a new government paid for house, short hair.

A boyfriend.

Maybe learning to make adjustments wasn't such a bad thing, with Steve by his side.

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest Valentine's Day Pop-Up: It's Complicated

Summary: Jeff, Gareth, and Dave all confront their feelings on the 30th anniversary of Eddie's death.

Word Count: 2189

Rating: M

Warnings/Themes: Grief, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Time Skip, Older!Corroded Coffin, Canonically Dead Eddie, Mention/Implication of Kas!Eddie, Post-Season 5 World/Vecna Defeated

Notes: Thanks to @corrodedcoffinfest for this wonderful pop-up. Oh I've been contemplating what to write for this for a while.

Dedicating this to my beloved @dr-aculaaa who had an idea as we were chatting about art. Has had me noodling for weeks at this point, and although this is not necessarily in line with that idea, it's a spin on it.

This can be read on it's own...but I would like to think that it can also be read as a bit of an off-shoot of my fic, As Above, So Below. There are no real plot spoilers for AASB, I just think it could happen.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Hawkins, Indiana - March 2016

They didn't want to do it, but they knew that they had to.

They needed the closure, and 30 years was a long time to wait for it.

Because you don't stop thinking about the week your life changed forever.

The reunion almost didn't happen; they hadn't talked or seen one another in person in so long. It was the miracle, known as Facebook, that got them talking regularly again. Sending videos back and forth, commenting on each others throwback Thursday photos.

High school, then college, then jobs and families and vacations. Lives lived separate, when in another universe they might've stayed on the same trajectory together.

"Remember when we thought we were gonna hit it big?" Dave laughed sardonically after they'd greeted each other with handshakes and hugs and tears. They'd laughed and pointed out this beer gut and that thinning hairline. "Now I help people plan for retirement."

"Didn't think you were smart enough for that, Davey," Gareth chuckled, causing the older man to grab for him to try and put him in a headlock, just like he did when they were younger.

It was a beautiful day. Sun and fluffy cumulus clouds, unseasonably warm for March but none of them could complain about it.

"Leave it to us to not see each other in decades and we start off the conversation about the weather."

"You can take the boys out of the midwest but you can't take the midwest out of the boys."

They'd settled into lawn chairs, courtesy of Gareth, who hauled them all the way back to Indiana in his soccer-dad-minivan.

"Soccer, huh?" Jeff questioned mirthfully.

"Laugh it up," Gareth snorted. "I also have a kid that's an absolute menace. Couldn't be caught dead playing sportsball."

"Takes after Uncle Eddie, then, huh?"

They all went silent at that.

Because there were only three lawn chairs.

Three lawn chairs and a headstone.

They sat in front of it as though it was a television set, but there was only one thing on display.

Edward J. Munson Beloved Son, Nephew, and Friend.

The stone was chipped, weathered, covered in moss and other debris. There were also remnants of red paint clinging to the edges of the inscription.

People had gotten bored of defacing the grave a long time ago; no one cared about Hawkins anymore. No one cared about Eddie. The rest of the world had moved past the alleged murders and the earthquakes and all of the mysteries that had plagued the small town all that time ago.

Except the three of them.

That's why they were here.

"Do your kids...call him Uncle Eddie?" Gareth asked tentatively.

Jeff wasn't sure how to respond. How his old friends would react if he told them the truth.

"It's complicated."

There were a few beats of silence, before he spoke again.

"They do." Then he dove into an explanation. "They found a box of stuff at my mom's house a while back. Polaroids we'd taken at the trailer, at StarCourt, on Halloween. Copies of our fliers. Even my old Hellfire shirt. So I told them about Uncle Eddie, who taught me how not to be absolutely shit at guitar."

Gareth hummed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Come on," Dave lightly hit his arm with the back of his hand. "Don't act like you've never thought about him for the last 30 years."

"I've really tried not to."

"Then what are we doing here, Gare?" Jeff scoffed. "Why did I drive 10 hours to come and sit in front of his grave if you're gonna act like he wasn't our friend."

Gareth worried his bottom lip for a pensive minute, trying to keep his tears at bay.

"I was really angry for the longest time," he finally admitted. "My parents made us leave with that initial wave of evacuees...after the first quake. We only took what could fit in both of their cars. We left my drum kit behind. And I didn't...I didn't even know he was..." His breath hitched as he was unable to say the word; 30-year-old emotions kept it stuck in his throat. "...for a whole week."

He pulled it together, letting the necessity of stereotypical, stoic masculinity that he had to adapt over the years take over and lock away the 17-year old he used to be again. The one that had been allowed to be stupid and upset with his friends.

"Once I heard, I started to blame myself. Because if I hadn't told Jason Carver where he could've found Eddie...Eddie could've gotten out of Hawkins and he'd still be alive. And I know...I know...who could've guessed that Victor Creel's copycat killer would've been on the loose. Or that there'd be an earthquake. But he'd been running around...hiding because those assholes were looking for him."

On and on, he spouted off his theory about what that fateful week had looked like, the through line between the murders. How if Patrick McKinney hadn't been part of the group looking for Eddie, Eddie wouldn't have been anywhere near when Patrick was killed. And if that was the case, he wouldn't have died in the quake either.

Of course, Jeff and Dave still asked questions, trying to get some sense of logic out of everything that Gareth said, but he snapped at them.

"It's like Jeff said. It's complicated. I've had enough time to convince myself I'm wrong, and I still don't. That's why I don't talk about it; it's easier not to. I don't know what else to tell you."

A dog barked in the distance, a breeze blew through, and there was a flapping of wings.

"At least you believed that he was innocent," Dave piped up. "My mom and dad...god, they believed all of that insane devil worship stuff. You guys left Hawkins right away. We stayed...for almost a whole year before they decided enough was enough. They made me get rid of all my DnD books, all of my tapes. Anything that could be tied back to Eddie. I didn't even...I couldn't even say hi to Wayne if we saw him at Bradley's."

He gestured a few feet away, to another headstone with Wayne's epitaph carved into it. It hadn't been a shock to see that the old man had died. But only a year and a half after Eddie? That had been a surprising sting that they'd all felt.

"You don't know how bad it got," Dave concluded solemnly. "We might have made it out right before the second quake hit, but they never let up. Eddie Munson's name was not to be mentioned again in our house. So be lucky that you had the choice of whether or not to think about him. Because I certainly couldn't."

There was a somber tone in the graveyard for a moment as they all reflected on their years spent apart.

Because, though the subject mainly rested on Eddie...there was also the unspoken accusation that they'd all also conscientiously needed to give each other up too.

30 years was a long time to grieve over a dead friend. But had they ever grieved the loss of one another?

It had been easy to reconnect, as though they'd never been apart. They'd been excited, eager to chat online. None of them had hesitated when the possibility of this pilgrimage arose, to see each other. Now, though? It was clear to see how far the trajectories of their lives had gone from one another.

Always the one to resolve conflicts between them, Jeff suggested that they move on to another topic of conversation: lunch.

Dave ran to get the cooler from the back of his truck. It was packed with sandwiches and beers and all manner of snacks.

All Eddie's favorites.

They set an old bandana onto the ground and piled it high with a ham and cheese sandwich and raspberry zingers and all sorts of little bites that they'd left behind in their youths once their metabolisms caught up to them.

"I don't think I've had a Mountain Dew in years," Dave stated after the most refreshing, crisp first sip of the bright green soda.

"Remember when you used to be able to burp the alphabet," Jeff chuckled.

"Remember when you used to have the most toxic dorito farts?" Gareth laughed at him. "Eddie almost kicked you out of the van that one time because you just ripped ass on the coldest day of the year and his windows were iced shut."

"Remember when he kicked you out of the van for..."

On and on they went then, reminiscing. Back to old times together, rather than lamenting over times apart. The topic, invariably, strayed back to Eddie.

"Did you guys ever..." Jeff trailed off, then shook his head. "Nevermind."

"What is it?" Dave asked.

"Nah, it's stupid."

"Come on, Davey and I almost fucking cried, full snot and all, in front of you. Don't get shy now," Gareth insisted.

Jeff sighed and settled into his lawn chair as he contemplated speaking his mind.

It was silly, foolish. The first time the thought had crossed his mind, he'd been young and stupid, and he'd missed his best friend. He'd even had a dream, once, and he'd woken up crying. After that, he'd decided that he needed to move on.

But here they were now, and there was no better time than to bring it up.

"Have you guys ever wondered...if he didn't actually die?" Jeff finally asked.

The other two men's heads snapped towards him and they gave him looks that definitely made him feel like he was insane.

So, he elaborated, "I mean, you've heard of witness protection and what not. This place was swimming with the feds. They never caught the copycat killer, right? Or so we know? What if Eddie was the next victim on the list? Or he saw who the real killer was? And so they hid him away."

Jeff tapped his fingers against the sides of his soda can nervously.

"What if he did exactly what all of us did? He left Hawkins and he never looked back," he concluded.

Dave and Gareth let out sighs of relief.

"Well, we know he never became a heavy metal star if that was the case," Gareth offered. "Could you imagine if he had? Lucky bastard, I would've had to kill him myself."

"Where do you guys think some alternate identity would've taken him?" Dave wondered. "Someplace cool, do you think?"

"They probably shipped him off to Alaska or something," Jeff scoffed.

"Oh he would've hated that," Dave laughed. "Do you remember when he'd need to go out for a cigarette in the winter? Almost lit his mittens on fire?"

Jeff got out of his lawn chair and hopped around like Eddie had on the porch of the trailer, trying to keep warm because he'd never bundled up properly.

"He'd hate to live someplace warm just as much," Gareth pointed out. "Remember how insufferable he'd be in the summer?"

"Wayne would tell him to get a hair cut so he wouldn't overheat?"

They all did silly impressions of him this time, laughing all the while.

They all fell back into their seats with a sigh.

"I...It's stupid," Jeff muttered. "I wouldn't give up my life...my family for anything. But there are just some days where I wish that he would've gotten to grow up with us too. He was my best friend, and I loved him so much. And I know you guys did too. I...he...he didn't deserve this." He gestured to the headstone. "So I hope that...that my silly thought is really what happened."

The other two muttered their agreements, and they knocked cans together in a salute to the missing piece of their puzzle.

There was a beat of silence before Dave piped up again.

"You know, that's not as crazy as what I thought you meant," he chuckled.

Jeff eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Dave lifted his soda to his lips. "Nah, it's...I thought you were gonna ask if we thought he'd actually made a deal with the devil or something."

"See, this is what we get for hanging out together after a thousand years, I was thinking the same thing," Gareth agreed. "That Jeff was about to say that he was some kind of vampire or demon."

"Oh shit, or a necromancer. Actually that could've been cool!"

"Only Eddie could've thought about a vampiric, demonic necromancer," Jeff laughed along with them. "His own homespun version of Kas the Bloody Handed."

They all complained about the last campaign they'd played with Hellfire Club, Eddie's Cult of Vecna, and then agreed that they'd plan a night where they'd play some kind of RPG-type game over Skype, in his honor.

They stayed in the graveyard until the sky turned shades of pinks and yellows, and then they parted ways with more hugs and tears and promises not to wait another 30 years before they got together again. Then they drove off into the sunset, the perfect end to their perfect day.

A day that Eddie had blessed them with, as he looked upon them and wished that he could join them too...but...that, too, was complicated.

[mrsjellymunson]

Oh I gotta go with 🍆

I am SO curious hehehehe

And it is SO perfect that you chose this one! I think you’re gonna like it… 😉

💜🍆💜

Clouds of smoke hang heavy in their shared hotel room. Eddie muses on the colours it makes. Swirling circles, in places white, grey, mauve, even… purple. He takes it all back, the Californian stuff really is the shit…

Gareth chuckles beside him, eyes as lidded as Eddie’s but with his trademark mischievousness behind them.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Eds? You seein’ god again?”

Eddie ugly-snorts, remembering that night when there was definitely something more than weed in the smoke. But yes, tonight’s weed, it pervades everything now. He doesn’t (can’t?) look at his friend as he languidly swirls his hand in front of him, creating eddies in the smoky fog.

“Nah, man. It’s this… purple haze. It’s all in my brain, dude.”

[shelleyminx]

This was written for @corrodedcoffinfest Media Mania

You Sexy Thing

Prompt Day 13: 8 Seconds | Word Count: 983 | Rating: G | CW: language | POV: Eddie | Pairing(s): Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington | Tags: Pre-Season/Series 02, Bodyguard Steve, Steve Harrington is Eddie's queer awakening, both Eddie and Gareth have a crush on Chrissy but it's only briefly mentioned, Jeff tries to help and then bodyguard Steve happens

Summary:

Where’s the lifeguard that looks like a fish? He’s sure that Harrington wasn't there when they arrived. And to be honest, Eddie only knows who the guy is because of rumors, girls whispering through the halls and goddamn Tommy Hagan and his personal vendetta against Hellfire.

Or: it's the summer of 1984 and the Corroded Coffin boys go to the community pool while Steve is a bodyguard.

Summer, 1984.

The community pool was not a good idea. For starters, they’re not summer kids. Their thing is practicing, playing D&D, sneaking out to watch the movies Jeff's dad rents that are not for “kids their age”. The regular, fun, safe things. Running into their school peers at a pool, of all places, is not fun, much less safe. It's a nightmare.

It was Gareth's mom's suggestion, since she and his dad were going to clean the garage and she thought it would be “good for them to do something different”. It was so insufferably hot that it seemed like a good idea, so they gathered towels and sunscreen and hopped into Eddie's van. Now that the four of them were there, it felt awful. The pool was too full and the only place that could accommodate the four of them was packed with kids. At least their chairs would be partly hidden by the lifeguard chair, which would prevent them from being noticed by the dickheads their age.

“What are we supposed to do here?” Doug looks around as if they were on another planet.

“Look at girl's bikinis?” Gareth tries, lazily spreading sunscreen on his own face and checking the perimeter just like Doug did. “Fuck!”

“What? People fuck here?” Eddie's voice comes out a lot louder than he expected. His hair and Gareth's are basically the same size at this point and they could be mistaken as brothers if it wasn't for the difference in the color of their curls.

“God, no! Eddie, shut up!” Gareth practically throws himself behind Doug and the other three turn to see what he is looking at. Or who, more specifically. Chrissy Cunningham, of all people, is at the other side of the pool with two friends, wearing a pink bikini bottom with a tank top just as pink, unaware of their presence, unlike a bunch of moms who are shooting ugly stares because of Eddie's words. Eddie himself is debating whether to drown or run for his life. Of course his best friend had to develop a crush on the same girl he had been secretly crushing since middle school.

“Let's play chicken fight. My brother says girls think that's cool.” Jeff suggests, getting three pairs of incredulous eyes back at him “What? She will notice you, man!”

Except she doesn't. Because while, yes, they try to play chicken, with Gareth on a reluctant Doug's shoulder and Jeff on Eddie's, the game goes on for exactly 8 seconds, counted on Eddie's precious waterproof watch. No girl have the time to even bat an eye at them. 8 seconds until Jeff throws a clumsy Gareth in the water.

“Let's put the two uncoordinated bitches on top.” Jeff sighs, watching his friend get out of the pool angrily, saying something about needing to take his shirt off because it got in the way. He had no idea why Gareth got into the pool with it anyway.

“You're the uncoordinated bit–” Eddie is cut when 1999 by Prince starts on the speakers and Chrissy's friends scream collectively, excitedly pulling her to dance while she shyly relucts before accepting and starting to dance with them. “Yeah, I'm winning this crap.” Eddie proclaims.

“Your ass!” Gareth answers, hopping on Doug's shoulders again.

This time, their fight becomes feral. Or at least as feral as a chicken pool fight between four unathletic teen boys can be. They aren't supposed to use violence, but they do it anyway. Gareth pushes Eddie's shoulder with all his strength, and Eddie decides to use the advantage of having abnormal long arms to… Go straight to Gareth's neck. Which is immediately noticed by the lifeguard.

The whistle comes from their right and the four boys look at its direction at the same time.

“Dude, can you… Not kill him on my watch?” Steve Harrington, in all his glory, says, apparently holding a laughter.

Eddie gets red. So red. Almost as red as this guy's shorts.

Eddie lets go of Gareth's neck. Chrissy looks at them from a distance, just like pretty much everyone aside from the small kids. Prince keeps singing. Steve keeps looking. Gareth pushes Eddie, who falls like a piano in a cartoon, splashing water everywhere, including the girls. He gets back to the surface, coughing water and thinking of ways to make D&D impossible for Gareth forever, then he sees a hand. Steve Harrington is offering him a hand to help him get out because his friends are busy cracking their asses at his expense. Eddie is mortified.

“I'm fine.” He murmurs, but his voice barely comes out and he kinda sounds like a goat.

Where’s the lifeguard that looks like a fish? He’s sure that Harrington wasn't there when they arrived. And to be honest, he only knows who the guy is because of rumors, girls whispering through the halls and goddamn Tommy Hagan and his personal vendetta against Hellfire.

“Ok. Take care, dude.” Steve offers a smile before leaving. Eddie's eyes linger on his naked back, on his strong legs flexing when he gets down to help a kid get out of the water. On how the sun makes his hair look like a million shades of browns and goldens.

“Why are you shits laughing?” Eddie asks harshly, getting to his chair and picking up his towel. “Isn't this King Prick?”

“It was funny, Eds! C’mon!” Doug pats his shoulder.

“You bigots! Trading me for the monarchy!” Eddie looks back at Steve, supposedly shooting him an ugly stare. But Steve is climbing to his chair and his legs are really something else and his skin glows with the sun and Eddie kinda wants to die because his stomach is doing something strange and his face gets redder when Steve shoots a quick look in his direction.

He definitely stares at Steve for more than 8 seconds.

[dreamwatch]

There Goes My Hero

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #12 - Prompt: Ow! | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: language, canon typical violence, fat shaming, mention of blood, injuries, mention of past bullying | POV: Matt | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, violence, fighting,

This was the very first thing I wrote for CCFest back in April!

****

Matt’s not a fighter. He’s not brave. 

He spent years skulking around the halls of Hawkins High, desperately trying to make himself smaller, to make himself invisible. Until Eddie came along and told them it was all bullshit anyway. Until Eddie came along, bigger and bolder than everyone else, a huge willow tree for them all to take shelter under.

Fighting to him, to all of them he thinks, is learning to take a slap and then walking it off. Saying ’it’s fine, it doesn’t even hurt’ as you wipe the blood from under your nose. Not biting back when they call you a fat fuck.

Fighting to him is just taking it.

And that’s mortifying, honestly, fucking pathetic, but he just wanted to keep his head down, play his music and DnD, and be left alone.

So he doesn’t know where it came from, so suddenly, although maybe that’s a lie. Like saying it doesn’t hurt when your face stings, and you’re standing in the hallway, humiliated. If he digs deep, really thinks hard about it, then it’s probably years of pent-up anger. Of having his shit stolen from his locker, of seeing his friends getting picked on and not having the guts to do a fucking thing about it other than watch and hope you’re not next. So yeah, blind, impotent rage, right? The kind that makes good people go off in the world and do bad things. 

This was his bad thing.

He hopes the other guy is okay, mostly because he doesn’t want to go to jail. He hasn’t seen Eddie since they got brought in to the ER, and he really hopes he’s okay. His face looked a mess. 

This was the eighth show on their little midwestern tour. They put it together themselves, all piled into the van, and Jeff’s station wagon (they’d laughed when he bought it, but it was a genius idea in retrospect), and just took off for a few shows over the summer. Nothing big. No real agenda other than to play and get the fuck out of Hawkins.

It would be understating it to say that Hawkins had done a number on Eddie. They still have no idea what happened. Eddie told them he got bit by dogs which just made them angry, honestly, because the stench coming off that bullshit was stifling. What they do know for sure is that he nearly died. That whatever happened left him hollowed out, physically and mentally. That it broke something in their friend, which broke something in them.

Watching Eddie recover was hard. They were all sure the band was over but in some fucked up, twisted, alternate-dimension weirdness, Steve Harrington got Eddie to play again. 

Steve. 

Harrington. 

What the fuck?

And fuck knows what he did, or said, or bribed Eddie with, but it worked. He picked up the guitar again, trading lead for rhythm with Jeff while he built up his strength and coordination, but for all that he was frustrated the light came back on. Eddie was back.

Matt wasn’t letting anyone take him away again.

It only took one show at The Hideout to know they were never going to play there again. Eddie was a curiosity now, something to be gawped at. Someone thought it would be hilarious to throw a cheerleader’s pom pom onto the stage, and it sent Eddie into a spiral. He holed up in the bathroom and wouldn’t let anyone in until Steve showed up and alikazam! the door opens. They were in there for an hour. Eddie was red-eyed and a little dazed afterwards and that was the last night they ever played in Hawkins. 

They’re in Des Moines when it happens. The show was great, objectively fucking awesome. There must have been a couple of hundred people in there, and the manager wanted them back, people asked for tapes. It couldn’t have gone any better.

So of course it went to shit.

They’d barely opened the back of the van to load up before some six-foot giant grabbed Eddie by the collar and punched him so hard in the face that blood sprayed from his nose, landing on Gareth beside him. There was a moment of complete silence, where it felt like the world just stopped or his vision had just whited out. And then—

He’s never punched anyone before, is the thing. He didn’t know there were ways you’re supposed to hold your hand, your thumb, and even if he did he’s not sure he would have done it anyway. What he does know, now at least, is that he has a mean fucking right hook. Jeff was trying to push the giant off Eddie, and Gareth was standing there with Eddie’s blood on the side of his face, shocked to shit to be fair to him, so the asshole didn’t get a second to register Matt approaching, hitting him square in the jaw and onto his ass.

And he doesn’t know what happened after that really, just that he was kicking him, boot slamming into the soft side of the man on the floor, over and over until it was Eddie, face like an abattoir floor, that pulled him off.

He mulls it over while he waits for an X-Ray. There’s definitely something broken, he can feel the grinding when he moves his hand and it hurts like a motherfucker. They still had a few shows to go. He ruined the tour with one punch. 

Jeff opens the curtain and sits next to him on the bed.

“How’s the hand?”

“Fucked. How’s Eddie’s nose?”

“Fucked.”

They sit in silence, shoulder-to-shoulder, self-declared best friends forever. 

“I can’t believe someone recognised him out here,” Jeff mutters, maybe to himself, Matt can’t be sure.

They don’t say it, but they’re both thinking it; Hawkins is going to follow Eddie everwhere. Follow them everywhere. And they can’t keep fighting their way out of things every time it catches up with them.

[punkrockmlchael]

I have a post for all four of the corroded coffin boys lined up for CCFest Spring Break!

All are slightly spicy (some more spicy than others)

Eddie's is fanboy!Eddie and popstar!reader -> this universe

Gareth's is plus size bestfriend!fem reader smut

Jeff's is a plus size!fem reader smut

Freak (Grant's) will be plus size!fem reader maybe some smut

so uh, my question is does anyone want a tag in any of these when they're posted? comment and let me know which boy(s) or all of them if you do? I have a tag list for Eddie and Gareth but not the others so let me knowww

love you thank you all for the kind words and for supporting me and this hobby; the last week has been rough but all of my wonderful friends from here have made it so worth it and I love you all for that <3

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

A Very Corroded Black Friday by Jo-Harrington

@jo-harrington

A Very Corroded Black Friday AKA Extended Holiday Hours CCFest x SMVerse Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader

CCFest Black Friday Prompt: One Day Only

Summary: In an unprecedented turn for 1986, StarCourt Mall announces that it's staying open for 24 Hours on Black Friday. Eddie barely survived a regular shift last year; what will happen when he and his friends embark on an adventure during the dreaded Extended Holiday Hours? It's one day only. How bad could it be?

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: No Upside Down AU, Friendship, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Character Growth, established relationship between Eddie and the Claire's Store Manager (reader), references to media and pop culture, retail and food service themes

This rec is a part of Writer Highlights. Our featured artist this week is Jo-Harrington.

Know a stranger things artist that deserves some love? Submit through our asks

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

AAAHHHHH I love this so much 🥰🥰🥰 there can never be enough Corroded Coffin artwork!!!

Thanks so much to @macau1ay for bringing our boys to life in such a fun, energetic, and adorable way!

(Edited to add: big big thank you to @thisapplepielife for organizing @corrodedcoffinfest 😘 and shoutout to my fave ccfest authors @the-unforgivenn and @jo-harrington 😍)

really really fun commission for @1lostsoul0fishbowl 🩷🩷❤️‍🔥 thank you for commissioning me!!!

[chrishoggephotography]

Kirsteen Harvey supporting Native Harrow. Hug and Pint. Glasgow.

[sualee]

Thank you @brucemacgregor for an epic night of fabulous tunes! And to @celtic_connections for making it happen… Felt so lucky to be amongst such incredible musicians… Special thanks to @annamassie for getting us shipshape! The new album Road to Tyranny is a wonderful thing! Go get it folks! #newalbum #newmusic #celticconnections #ccfest #ccfest2022 #craic #bandcraic #roadtotyranny @blazinbruce_ @alilevack @anguslyonmusic @iainsloan @sualeecello @duncanlyall @edeytime @peeriehoose @annamassie @jennareidmusic @edeytime (at Celtic Connections) https://www.instagram.com/p/CZOzY85ACuC/?utm_medium=tumblr

[karenblumberg]

Gathering my tweets and pics from today's awesome #CCFestNYC hosted at @ITP_NYU. Thank you for organizing another inspiring event, @ed_saber!

Gathering my tweets and pics from today’s awesome #CCFestNYC hosted at @ITP_NYU. Thank you for organizing another inspiring event, @ed_saber!

Yay for another #CCFest today at ⁦@ITP_NYU⁩! Here are slides from the event: https://t.co/wKw5amQGZ8#CCfest12 #STEMed #CSforAll #CSforAllNYC https://t.co/XtsyVxKEbU

— Karen Blumberg (@KarenBlumberg) December 8, 2019

  Excited for @aankit’s opening keynote at #CCfestNYC today! Thanks for hosting, @ITP_NYU! #csforall #csforallnyc pic.twitter.com/kj1GIDduhB

— Karen Blumberg (@KarenBlumberg) Decem…

[mrsjellymunson]

🌟🌟WIP Weekend!✍️✍️

Thanks for the tag Annie @the-unforgivenn , I had another one somewhere from a few weekends ago but I lost it and my brain won’t let me remember who it was from, so if it was you thank you and I’m sorry I’m so rubbish 🙈

Okay, down to business. Send me an ask with an emoji or fic title and I’ll share a line or two from these:

For CCFest’s Somewhere Over The Rainbow event:

💛 Yellow 1

🌙 Yellow 2

🟦 Blue

🍆 Purple

Others:

👙 Good Things 3: Pool Party

💙 Knock At The Cabin: Part 3 (finale)

🎲 D&D 3: (Be My) Dungeon Master

IDK who’s already been tagged, so I shall add a few in case (with no pressure) but absolutely anyone can join in!! @mediocredreams @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @losingmygrasponreality @punkrockmlchael @rebelfell @wonderlanddreamer @somnambulic-thing @indulgence-be-thy-name @justmeinadaze @sidereustales

[shelleyminx]

This time we're through

written for @corrodedcoffinfest MEDIA MANIA

Prompt Day 12: Desperation | Word Count: 971 | Rating: G | CW: Grief, Funeral, Heart Attack | POV: Eddie | Pairing(s): Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson & Gareth | Tags: Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Good uncle Wayne Munson, Grief/Mourning, Bittersweet ending, Wayne loves Abba

Summary:

“Stairway To Heaven” Eddie stared at the empty coffin in front of him like it was the filthiest thing he had ever seen.

“What?” Steve said, a little confused.

“The only Led Zeppelin song I ever got Wayne to love.” he answered. They stayed silent, not knowing what to do with the sinking feeling of desperation that clouded the last fifteen hours of their lives.

“Years of trying to get some Ozzy through him...” Gareth whispered, his eyes watering a little.

“Well, he loves Abba.” Steve shrugged. True. He was, in fact, the happiest when Steve came along and finally he had someone willing to listen to his records with him. Taking the three of them by surprise, Eddie laughed loud and hard, a hand sliding through the white fabric that covered the inside of the coffin.

“Yeah.” he sighed sadly “So… Stairway to Heaven and… What's the name of that one he liked to sing the backing vocals to?”

Nobody prepares you for the first funeral you have to plan and Eddie learns it the hard way.

read it on ao3

“Stairway To Heaven” Eddie stared at the empty coffin in front of him like it was the filthiest thing he had ever seen.

“What?” Steve said, a little confused.

“The only Led Zeppelin song I ever got Wayne to love.” he answered. They stayed silent, not knowing what to do with the sinking feeling of desperation that clouded the last fifteen hours of their lives.

“Years of trying to get some Ozzy through him...” Gareth whispered, his eyes watering a little.

“Well, he loves Abba.” Steve shrugged. True. He was, in fact, the happiest when Steve came along and finally he had someone willing to listen to his records with him. Taking the three of them by surprise, Eddie laughed loud and hard, a hand sliding through the white fabric that covered the inside of the coffin.

“Yeah.” he sighed sadly “So… Stairway to Heaven and… What's the name of that one he liked to sing the backing vocals to?”

“Knowing Me, Knowing You.” Steve answered, opening a small smile for the first time that day.

"Abba, then Zeppelin." he tried to smile, turning his attention to the attendant who took notes while nodding. “It will be this one, with the yellow flowers.” His shrug looked nonchalant, but it was noticeable that his shoulders were shaking.

“You guys are gonna be fine?” Gareth asked when they got out of the funeral home, the morning sunlight irritating his blue eyes a little.

“Yeah. Thanks for being here, Gar.” Eddie answered and they traded smiles. “See ya soon.”

Eddie went straight to the passenger seat of his van and Steve drove them to the new trailer they got from the government in 86. While the streets of Hawkins passed by the windows, the adrenaline of the night before settled and Eddie finally cried. At age 23, he thought he had seen and lived through everything– after all, he was only 20 when he discovered the Upside Down and nearly died there. 21 when he realized he was in love with Steve, 22 when their friendship became a steady relationship. He went through a complicated childhood, a difficult family, grief, starting again, being scared. But through all that, he was never alone. There was always Wayne.

Today was the first day that the sun rose on an earth in which Wayne Munson wasn't alive. It was terrifying and unfair.

Wayne died of a heart attack the night before at age 54. He wasn't feeling well and went to bed early; Steve heard a noise coming from his room and Eddie rushed to see if he was okay, but it was too late. His uncle died right in front of him while Steve desperately called 911 and tried to perform first aid like the operator told him to. After rushing to the hospital in an ambulance, holding the man's hand and praying “please come back please come back” under his breath, Eddie knew it was over.

Nearly dying was, of course, desperating. Sometimes he could still remember the pain of the bat bites on his stomach, his vision going black. He had nightmares about it frequently. Now, it was like dying again; a part of him trapped inside that morgue, soon to be put to the ground on the coffin he just chose.

There were so many papers to sign, things to think about, money to pay. He felt like a child. What was he supposed to do without being able to seek for his uncle's, his father by heart, advice? Nobody prepares you for the first funeral you have to plan. But he was an adult, he was the adult of his life now, so he signed what needed to be signed, talked to doctors, went to the funeral home as soon as the day came so he could choose the details. He didn't want to be alone, terrified that it would feel like dying again, so he called Gareth and asked him to keep him company while Steve went back to the trailer to pick Wayne's favorite suit, the brown one he wore at Eddie's graduation ceremony with the light yellow shirt he bought for Joyce and Hopper's wedding party, which was hosted at Steve's garden (his gift to the bride and groom, he said).

At home, Eddie put on his own best suit, all black with a red tie. He finally went to his uncle's room and looked around, absorbing his creamy-ish colored walls, his still undone bed, his alarm clock. He stared at the dirty laundry and silently cried. But their living room was the hardest, with the small television, the shelf filled with his collection of mugs and different caps. His fishing equipment in a corner, his favorite brown coat hanging by the door.

Steve put a hand on Eddie's shoulder and only hugged him after Eddie pulled him closer, giving him a silent permission. The three of them had become a family over the years. When Steve playfully (but kinda seriously) popped the “will you marry me?” question, they both agreed that Wayne and Robin would be their witnesses once same sex marriage became legal. Wayne put up the biggest fight to clear Eddie's name back in 86 and confronted Dick Harrington face to face when the man tried to keep Steve away from Eddie. The boys took care of his health, took him on trips and to concerts, helped him get a daytime job.

Now, they would see him one last time.

The thought of being a family of two again made Eddie's throat close. He would do it, he had to do it, but he just wished he could go back to the day before and relive it over and over again. Just so he would never know the sheer desperation of not having Wayne Munson around.

[dreamwatch]

I'm alone, playing some creepy soundtrack playlist on Spotify to get in the mood for my last CCFest fic... mistakes have been made. Not helped by my speaker just cutting the music and doing her 'PLEASE CHARGE' eery AI shit to me.

Oh great, the theme from Halloween just came on...

[punkrockmlchael]

to the couple matchmaker requests in my inbox: I see you, I hear you and I will get those done asap!

Yesterday was my birthday (thank you for all of the lovely birthday messages) and Wednesday was my bfs birthday so I spent the last couple days relaxing and enjoying myself with family.

Also, I run an ice cream shop that opens next week so I’ve been working on that too; getting that ready and prepped! But I hope to have those matches done soon (as well as my CCFest Spring Break fics bc I still need to finish 2…)

Anyways, thank you again! smooches!

[002700]

the way i’ve woken up at 4 am for ccfest 😫