21 - 29 of 29 Works in Stranger Things Book: Flight of Icarus
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“I just need a safe place to get my head on straight. I have to start over and figure it out. Wayne—he—he’s always been good to me—even when I didn’t deserve it.” Eddie can feel the weight on his shoulders disappear at the thought of going back to his uncle’s place. Who would have thought that the familiarity of Hawkins could bring him any kind of comfort. “I’m gonna take my fifty bucks and get a bus ride home.”
“Hawkins, here he comes.” Ronnie says wistfully.
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Eddie’s dream of being a big rockstar is a bust. He goes back to what he knows, and he sees a familiar face in the most unexpected of places…
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Almost two years after getting out of the mental hospital, Vinny is still struggling and learning how to piece her life together. Her mind riddled with anxiety and the remnants of her depression, she finds comfort in the new Cali kid in town.
With these newfound emotions and some faked confidence, she forms a relationship that will change her life for good.
1984-1985
Series
- Part 2 of Hellhole
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,962
- Chapters:
- 1/?
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 165
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Hawkin's PD? I need to report a theft - one heart - stolen brazenly in broad daylight by BriarberyHartfield
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
23 Feb 2024
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The perks of your new job were these:
Cart blanche to decorate the window or endcaps with bands you liked.
Ability to read whenever the store was dead.
Never having to come in before 9AM.
Walking distance to your Aunt's house where you were currently living.Also - you find out that the Sacri-licious (sic) Eddie Munson shops there.
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Eddie told himself he wasn’t gonna worry about girls, or dating, or even sex - this year. This year was about graduating and getting the hell out of Hawkins.
Girls only approached him for weed anyway.
There was a note shoved into his locker saying he had something you needed, and could he meet you after school??
"Here we go again." Eddie said through gritted teeth.
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I don’t want to fade into the darkness. I want to rise into the sun just to touch it and to see it for all its glory. Shine upon me, great light, give me your spotlight. I’ll make it in this world, I swear. My wings won’t turn to ashes, my eyes are ablaze. With the iron wind on my face…
I’ll fly.
Up. Up. Up…
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For those who didn't get the opportunity to buy it or didn't like the original, here's my version of the Stranger Things novel following Eddie Munson: "Flight of Icarus"
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Christmas is not Eddie's favourite time of year. Enforced joy and harmony, the trailer’s always cold, his business drops away. What's to like? And Christmas 1985 might just turn out to be the worst ever when Higgins pulls him out of detention and delivers him, gift-wrapped, to the music teacher. A handy tame guitar player for the annual Hawkins High carol concert. Can he stick it out for the extra credit? And will he discover his Christmas spirit against all odds?
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Oh man, Eddie actually feels sorry for her.
Not in a pitying way, but in a way that has him wanting to try and make her feel better; the kind of sorry that would have him falling backwards just to see her smile…
Color him surprised because Eddie was almost positive that he didn’t really care about the likes of Chrissy Cunningham.
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My first HellCheer fic set in the Flight of Icarus-verse. AKA the picnic table meet up if it took place in the book.
Mild *spoilers* if you haven’t read it.Series
- Part 1 of I’ll find you in every lifetime…
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Fly, fly, fly by Infernalheather
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016), Stranger Things - Fandom
22 Nov 2023
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Paige returns to Hawkins with secrets hanging over her head.
She visits Eddie's grave only to find some one waiting. -
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Steve steels himself, grips his bat tight, and whips open the door.
Instead of the kids, or Wayne, or any of the remaining basketball meatheads that have made Eddie’s life a living hell since the spring, a girl is standing on the stoop.
She looks about Steve’s age, maybe a couple of years older. She’s short. Petite. She has freckles all over her round face, kind of like Robin does, with the same hair length, although hers is dark and straight with a chic cut to it. She’s wearing all black, ripped jeans and big heeled boots and an oversized denim jacket. Her dark eyes are ringed with smudged eyeliner and look wide, almost frantic; her hand is poised just above the door, and the dozens of thin silver rings on her fingers glint in the early morning sunlight.
“Oh,” she says, her voice all airy like she’d run out of breath. “Oh, sorry. I… I must have the wrong place.”