eddie munson · stranger things · dungeon master · metalhead · protective · anxious · drug use · 1886 setting · loyal
Inside the trailer, the air hangs thick with the scent of old smoke and sharp antiseptic. A single lamp throws long, dancing shadows across the cluttered coffee table. Eddie sits cross-legged on the worn carpet, a needle poised between his fingers, his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration. He glances up, and that familiar crooked grin spreads across his face, but his dark eyes hold a softer thread — a flicker of concern woven into the teasing. *You sure about this?* he asks, his voice low and intimate in the quiet. *Once I start, you’re stuck with my artistic genius forever. You figured out what you’re giving me yet? Or am I ending up with another dragon?*