Acatcalledmalice
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Eddie really can not stand Stevethecatguy. Ever since he started posting on Instagram about his little trash goblin- found in the middle of the road-cat on the platform, Stevethecatguy has been offering him advice and questioning his every move.
Eddie hates him.
Why the heck does the man have to be so damn hot while he's being as infuriating as hell? -
Service Disruptions by Acatcalledmalice for KayleeofCamelot
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
15 Jan 2026
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A snowstorm, a broken van, and having to go into the office three times a week via public transit were going to drive Eddie to an early grave or locked up for his own sanity. But at least the bus got him from A to B, and as long as he had his headphones and Old Flo and her cat stories to keep him going, he could hold out until the part for his van got fixed.
Only fate really hates Eddie Munson.
Or at least bus strikes do.
Public transit in general isn't his biggest fan, to be fair.
But maybe it's not all bad, after all, he would never have met the stranger in the yellow scarf if he had kept on riding the bus. -
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That's the problem with Santa Cruz, all the damn Vampires.
When Steve and Robin move to the coast to help renovate the hotel Argyle inherited from his Grandfather, Steve gets more than he bargained for. The line between reality and dreams is blurring. In his dreams, Eddie Munson is alive and well.
Something is living in the woods. Something that has a taste for blood. Something that the locals, hot off the buzz from Lost Boys being filmed there, are quick to blame on the supernatural.
If only they knew how right they were. -
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Undertaker wasn't a life that Eddie had ever pictured for himself, but it was where he ended up. Still single, perpetually lonely, never having quite gotten over the fact that when he tried to escape Hawkins to make a life for himself away from the curse of the Upside Down, Steve hadn't followed when he asked.
It’s been ten years since Eddie last saw Steve.
He hadn’t expected the next time he saw him again to be back in Hawkins, let alone in a body bag. -
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“I'm not. I'm just saying, Al Munson doesn't get to decide if I talk to him or not. That's on me. And right now I can't deal with his over-inflated half-truths and fabricated, happy family bullshit.”
Max nodded like she understood. Maybe she did. Her and her mom didn’t exactly have the white picket fence life that America would make you believe was everyone's God-given right.
“You gotta face him some time.”
“Yeah well, maybe, but right now I’m happy to just not,” Eddie grumbled, turning his attention back to the stove where he was busy trying to remember how to put together the ingredients to his mom’s pot pie. “It’s been me and Wayne since I was little. I’m happy just the way things are.”
Three years after the end of the world, Eddie’s dad is up for parole, and Eddie's past is quickly becoming his future.
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mortgage off your soul to buy your dream by parishilton
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
14 Jan 2025
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“I have a California King.”
Eddie’s eyes snap back open. “My favorite words after ‘all-inclusive.’”
“Breakfast will be served promptly at ten.”
Eddie squints. “Is there, like, a live-in butler I missed, or something?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “No, I can cook. I’m good in the kitchen.”
“My second favorite room a guy can tell me he’s ‘good in.’” Eddie sends a wink Steve’s way for good measure.
Bookmarked by Acatcalledmalice
07 Apr 2026
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“Steve,” Eddie repeats softly. Steve’s eyes look into his, shining like he’s already there, like he’s already floating. “If you want something, you gotta ask for it.”
Steve’s eyes flutter, and he looks like he wants to let out a whine, glancing across Eddie’s face again like he’s forgotten where they are.
“Fuck me,” he says weakly, and the words crawl under Eddie’s skin like they belong there. “Please. Will you please fuck me?”
//
or; Steve and Eddie start hooking up and it makes them both happier than it should.
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Bookmarked by Acatcalledmalice
09 Feb 2026
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“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe you, Harrington. Straight boys don’t get off thinking about dick. That’s an indisputable fact of the universe, and a key point in my own personal doctrine.”
And maybe Steve should laugh, shrug, call it a night. He should do that, re-examine all of this when he’s sober.
He doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Try me.”
Eddie lifts himself up on an elbow, turning to his side so that he’s looming over Steve when he says, “Just to confirm…”
Steve nods encouragingly, bolstered by the absence of a dismissive laugh, an awkward change of topic.
“You’re saying that you want me,” Eddie continues, eyes darting between Steve’s, “to talk about fucking a dude. To see if you get hard.”
—
Or; Steve’s pretty sure he could get hard while thinking about gay sex, even though he’s straight. Eddie’s just along for the ride.
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Bookmarked by Acatcalledmalice
19 Jan 2026
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'What the hell is Eddie Munson doing here?
Probably for the same reason Steve is.
"—how many times I've said that I will not be conforming to society's bullshit expectations of—oh." Eddie cuts himself off when he notices Steve sitting criss-cross by the pool.
He eyes Steve carefully before moving closer, head tilted and dark eyes narrowed. Eddie is apparently notorious for being hot-headed, a complete maniac, a freak. Steve isn't sure how any interaction between the two of them will go, what with them being complete polar opposites.
"What is a pretty boy like you doing out here all alone?" Eddie asks.
Steve finds himself flushing at the comment. Eddie is closer now, still looking at him intently, and Steve pulls his eyes away, staring at the water rippling underneath his palm.
"Party blows."'
~Rising NBA star Steve Harrington lives for parties, booze, and casual sex...until he meets Eddie Munson, magnetic frontman of 1989’s hottest metal band, Corroded Coffin. Their secret nights blur friendship and something more, but fame, drugs, and Eddie’s refusal to believe in love threaten to divide them. Can they survive the chaos, or will love be the song Eddie never writes?
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Bookmarked by Acatcalledmalice
23 Nov 2025
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Steve Harrington didn’t know what love was. He thought he did, a few times. He thought he loved his nanny the way his mother didn’t love him. He thought he loved Nancy the way he hadn’t loved someone else before her. He was wrong about that though, so how would he really know? He didn’t think he’d know what love was if it shoved itself in his face, called him an idiot, and bit him. He knew what love wasn’t, and that didn’t seem good enough. But when he was surrounded by club lights and the alcohol swam through his head, he felt like maybe he could learn, or least pretend for the night until he didn’t feel alone anymore; until he drove himself home in the early morning and felt the ache in his bones that said someone had been there with him, if only for a moment.
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Bookmarked by Acatcalledmalice
03 Sep 2025