Laura. 35. I like naps, coffee, and writing about unattainable fictional men.
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thinking 'bout how, in season 1 i believe [might've been the beginning of s2] when Scott was dealing with his werewolf transformation and all the jazz that came with it
Stiles carried around his inhaler for him and probably still does -> even when he knew Scott had super-healing, even though he knew Scott hadn't had an asthma attack in weeks//months and probably wouldn't ever again as long as he was a werewolf, and even when Scott had attacked him multiple times
and how he immediately ran after him when he recognized the signs of a panic attack, despite knowing that- in that state- Scott was more than likely to attack him again
tldr: Stiles' is a great fucking friend and i love him so much 😭
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Because apparently I’m writing again to distract me from myself…here’s my to-write list.
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• Follow up to
• Fix-it fic I’ve been writing for close to two years 😬
• Some Bob Floyd goodness.
• Maybe some other things I’ve been thinking about.
Stay tuned!! (
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Having watched gladiator two last night, Joseph deserves every role he’s EVER gotten! He and Fred fucking killed it (so did everyone) but they were my favorite part! I loved it so much and I’m planning on seeing it again tomorrow! Can’t wait to see what else Joseph does in the future (impatiently waiting for fantastic four as I’m writing this) ❤️❤️
side note- Ridley Scott is a brilliant man.
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Right on Time. | e.m.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x (f)reader.
Summary: Eddie's best friend comes to the rescue when a certain 'fan' of his band just won't quit.
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Rushing through the doors of The Hideout, you're greeted first by the familiar rush of smokey air, and then the gruff smile of Nick the bouncer. Squeezing his arm as you walked past, something near the stage caught your eye.
Gareth had spotted you the moment you walked in, and was now waving frantically. Subtlety had never been his strong point, and today was no different. As each step took you closer to him, his eyes darted between you, and the side of the stage.
"Where's the fire, G?"
Following his gaze, it took only seconds to zero in on the source of his panic.
Eddie was kneeling at the edge of the stage, tonight's setlist clutched tightly in his ringed fingers like a lifeline. Leaning dangerously close to him was the She-Devil, dressed in her usual skin-tight clothing. Her real name was Tiffany, and she'd graduated from Hawkins High a few years earlier. She had a thing for guys in bands, and apparently, Eddie was really doing it for her these days.
Tiffany had been to the last four Corroded Coffin shows, each time doing more and more to get Eddie's attention. To her, this seemed to mean wearing less clothing, and invading Eddie's personal space more. You'd been a little surprised when Eddie had brushed her off the first week, but it was clear that he wasn't interested, something she wasn't, or didn't care to understand.
The first time she'd shown up to one of their shows with a few friends, it had earned Jeff a punch to the chest while the boys were packing up. He'd joked that you had competition for the title of their number one fan. You'd not so politely reminded him that you were their first, number one, and sometimes only fan, and that if he ever disrespected you like that again, you might slip and tell Ms. Dunne the math teacher about the dream of his she'd starred in.
Looking back at Gareth, he gestured wildly.
"You have to do something!" He went as far as to grab you by the shoulders and shake. "You have to save him."
"First of all, you've been reading too many fantasy novels, Gar. You need to take a breath."
It made you laugh a little as you watched your friend visibly inhale, as if it was the first time in a while that he'd done so.
Looking back over your shoulder, you took a breath of your own, trying to come up with an idea. Though you weren't above violence, The Hideout wasn't the place for it. You didn't want Nick to have to get involved, and it'd be a pain in the ass for the boys to have to find a new place to play for five drunks each week.
If you were being honest, you didn't want to get involved either, but Eddie looked like a drowning man, and as his best friend, you were almost legally obligated to help him in this situation. He winced as Tiffany ran a blood red nail down his arm, and that was the final hit of courage you needed. You just hoped what you were about to do wasn't going to blow up in your face.
Steeling yourself with a few deep breaths, you gave Gareth's arm a final squeeze and turned to where Eddie was in She-Devil's clutches.
"Hey, handsome!" Eddie's head whipped towards you at the sound of your voice, his eyes wide.
Before you could second guess your actions, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes, and grabbed Eddie's collar, pulling him close enough to press your lips to his own.
The kiss was quick, over before it had really begun, but Eddie's hand came up to circle your wrist, his rings cool against your heated skin. When his eyes opened, you widened your own, pleading silently with him to play along.
A scoff came from behind you, and you called on everything you'd learned in tenth grade drama class as you turned to face the She-Devil herself.
"Oh, hi! I hope I'm not interrupting. It's just so hard to keep my hands off this guy when he's in the same room." Before she could say anything, you looked back over your shoulder to Eddie, who was trying his hardest not to laugh. "Sorry I'm late, baby. Heather just kept talking about her boyfriend instead of helping me close up, when all I wanted to do was get here to see mine."
At the insinuation that Eddie was your boyfriend, two things happened. Eddie's arm snaked around your shoulders from behind, and Tiffany huffed loudly, before turning to stomp away towards the bar. Once she was out of earshot, you turned to face him, raising an eyebrow.
"Mission accomplished?"
Instead of saying anything, Eddie slid himself off the edge of the stage, coming to rest directly in front of you.
"You-you kissed me."
"I know, Eds. I was there. I'm sorry. I just couldn't think of anything else, and you looked like you needed help, and-"
"You wanna do it again?"
It was pointless to try stopping the blush that spread across your cheeks, so you buried your face into Eddie's chest, feeling the rumble of his laughter. Folding you into his arms, a calloused hand found a home on the sliver of skin at the base of your spine, making it very hard for you to think.
"My hero," he whispered into the crown of your head.
"Sorry I was late,"
Pulling back a little, he shook his head.
"Nah, you were right on time."
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson x OC#Eddie Munson x reader#fic#this was self indulgent#and I regret nothing#my writing#mine#Stranger Things#ST#ST4#I haven't written anything in a long time but here we go
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(This nonsense is fully brought to you by I Was a Teenage Werewolf playing on Spotify, a red light, and my overactive imagination)
This is also the rambling version of a story I'll probably sit down and write eventually.
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"Dungeons and Dragons...at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned."
You're quietly, secretly enthralled by everything Eddie Munson does, especially his lunchroom escapades, because anyone who doodles dragons and the Loch Ness monster in their English notebook instead of the Macbeth notes he's supposed to be taking is 100% not a devil worshipper. It also doesn't hurt that he's got one of the cutest smiles you've ever seen.
It's during one of his table rants, after reading a Newsweek article about the dangers of D&D that you're admiring (read: staring) at him from your space at the table next to Hellfire's that you lock eyes with Dustin, a wide, goofy smile spreading across his face. He's beaming at the fact that someone other than the club's members appreciate Eddie, but also because he locks into the Iron Maiden t-shirt under your flannel, and Eddie definitely needs a girlfriend...
If anyone asks, you walk very calmly out of the cafeteria, only relaxing when you're sure there's no one following you. Opening your locker, you shove your head in, taking a shaky breath to calm yourself.
Foolishly, you let yourself think you're in the clear, until you're at your locker at the end of the day, and close the door the find a gappy smile on the other side, slamming a hand to your chest as Dustin beams at you, apologizing before cheerfully inviting you to join their next Hellfire meeting. It's okay that you don't know how to play, he promises Eddie will teach you. The younger boy even winks before walking away, leaving you as red as your flannel, wondering how you're going to get yourself out of this situation.
#Eddie Munson x reader#this might turn into an actual fic eventually#right now it's just a fever dream#Eddie Munson#ST#ST4#Stranger Things#Stranger Things 4#mine#my writing
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eddie munson has never dated before. he’s the school freak, the leader of hellfire, an outcast. he’s not the boy girls fawn over. so when he finds you, who looks at him like he’s hung the stars in the sky, he’s sure as hell not letting you go. he’s a purely devoted first—time boyfriend, going above and beyond in every little thing he does. movie night? he’s redecorating the trailer with candles and fairy lights just to set the scene. the school ride? he’s at your door on time every morning, bringing you snacks to eat in the van and burning off a cd of your favourite songs to listen to on the way. you need a sweater? take them all, his wardrobe is yours now. he’s never got to be a boyfriend before, to do the things boyfriends do. and you deserve it more than anyone he’s ever met, so he’s going to be the damn best boyfriend you’ve ever had.
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Eddie who proposes to you so casually, “Hey, I don’t really like your last name. How about you take mine instead?”
You obviously say yes <3
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Bob Floyd is 1000% the type to volunteer his arm to help an elderly woman cross the street, and come back blushing, because they told him the two of you were a cute couple, and when he denied it and said you were just friends, he was then told to get it together and snatch you up.
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Writing is hard. It stretches your creativity until you see holes in it, or worse, your plot. It can be lonely. It can be tiring. It can hurt your brain, and your pride, and your heart. It can feel like the worst thing you've ever done.
But it's worth it.
You're worth it.
So take care of yourself, okay? Take breaks, drink fluids, do whatever self-care you can do, no matter how small. Remember, there are people who care, and there are readers who need you - your story, your perspective, your impact.
And if you don't hear this from anyone else today, I'm so proud of you.
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i love u unconventional ways of showing affection
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I just feel like modern-day Eddie Munson would love getting high and watching reruns of Jackass, and then you'd have to convince him that 'no, Eddie, you definitely would not be able to do that' over and over.
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ANGEL BOYS
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