#bye eddie

[redspacewriter]

the cracked case: it's eddie, i mean alex

so i accidentally fell onto something that i wish i could unsee. and like the good friend i am, i dragged everyone with me into this rabbit hole (@rebelrayne , @whatisreggieshortfor & @csmicletters ). and it would be a disservice if i didn't drag the fandom with us too.

so here's how i ended up finding out that stick or twist alex is in fact eddie. all the evidence is under the cut (read at your own risk).

the why i believe alex is eddie rebranded?

so this could be a long discourse, about how i got to this conclusion after playing around with my edits and the islander pics. but that would take too long and i'm an introvert at heart. so, i'll just cut it short and present to you all the evidence.

exhibit a - as many of you pointed out, alex seems to have a different art style. well if you look at his art and at eddie’s art...what do you see? me, well i see a slight change but it's there. it eddie.

exhibit b - now i'm not that handy with the whole piecing together a new islander from existing parts. but remove alex's hair and put eddie's (the eyebrows, eyes and chin) match up. who do you get...eddie.

exhibit c - you know how we get that sneak peek of alex. well, one of his lines says that he'd like to bring his girl back to the farm. you know who also says that, eddie. seriously, go play season 5 and you'll see.

i think fusebox saw that we weren't good with having eddie return and they just said, change the hair and give him a semi-new backstory. we'll call him alex. you know fusebox, they’ll take the feedback and do the bare minimum.

so now that you can't unsee, feel free to do with this what you will. or however, that saying goes. and before i get the whole ‘but this is alex’— i like alex and hope that fusebox didn’t do him dirty.

[arcanespillo]

also please tag the person you're thinking about while voting this? it's not useful to the poll i just wanna know.

[jay-wasstuff]

The way Mrs Chen and Venom dancing was the last time Mrs Chen ever sees them is...

[eddiesghxst]

thinking about the way eddie coos when he sinks his cock into you for what feels like the millionth time in one night just to hear how wet you are, you’re whining in embarrassment bc you can hear the loud squelching noises of arousal and air pushing its way out of you but eddie just pushes your thighs out wider and hums, “hear that, baby? listen to your sweet little pussy talking to me— fuck— give me one more, come on.”

[tripleaxeldiaz]

you’re laughing. marisol didn’t get a kitchen convo or a phone call or an actual break up, she just disappeared, and you’re laughing. i am also laughing. because i thought about it again and it’s fucking hilarious

[ikarakie]

steve, flirting: so… would you like to go to dinner with me? maybe we could skip town… go somewhere in indy?

eddie, jokingly: haha careful king steve it sounds like you’re asking me out on a date

steve: well yes!

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[butchdiaz]

DID IT TO MYSELF ‼️

commissioned by @skyesweetcherry thank u so much !!!!

tags! @goldenbcnes @chronicowboy @diazisms @poughkeepsies @ilostyou

@911onabc @faethfigueroth @try-set-me-on-fire @jeeyuns @youreonyourownkid

@userautumn @eddiebabygirldiaz @leothil @mustachediaz @jjudaslips

@exhuastedpigeon @shitouttabuck @bvckandeddie @wearherlikeanecklace @oneawkwardcookie

@diazly @smallandalmosthonest @canonfageddie @freakazoidfag @heterosexistly

@sibylsleaves @loserlesbianbf @cranberrymoons @fruitydiaz @hunybody

@roy-kents @henswilsons @dadbodbuck @wellcollapse @spoilerspawn

@spacediscos @daughter-of-winterfell @gayedmundo @watchyourbuck @maddiebuckettebuckley

@buckgettingstruck @evcn @iinryer

[ohsleepie]

Silly little Harringroveson doodles ☆

[patheticgirlsteve]

This is easily the most inconvenient moment possible for Eddie to have a hard-on and yet, here he is, standing in the remains of what used to be the Hawkins Public Library with his dick hard as a rock in his pants.

Eddie had heard tell of a nailbat, rumors of Steve Harrington’s weapon of choice in dealing with matters related to the Upside Down, but it had seemed mythical to him. The way the boys talked about Steve wielding it made him sound like a hero from some ancient mythology.

“You should have seen him, Eddie,” Dustin would grip Eddie’s arm with a grasp that hurt as he regaled Eddie with the tale of Steve in the Junkyard Fighting the Demodogs once more. “He was such a badass, like, so insanely cool!”

Eddie is deeply glad that he was not present at that battle, but there is a part of him that wishes he could have seen it. That he could have seen Steve wield the suburban equivalent of a mace while trying to defend his brood of strange children.

Not that Eddie would ever admit that, of course. He and Steve are tentative friends, and Eddie is not going to risk what progress he and Steve have made in maintaining a civil relationship just because he thinks the guy is hot. Of course he thinks Steve is hot, so does every other breathing human in Hawkins, Indiana.

So, yeah, Eddie is keeping that piece of information to himself. Taking it to his grave. Besides, they’re in the middle of an apocalypse and now is hardly the time for getting horny over Steve Harrington proving competence with a blunt instrument.

But apparently Eddie’s dick never got that memo. Because he’s standing here watching Steve knock those goddamn fucking demobats out of the spore infested Hawkins sky with his infamous bat, dripping with blood and snarling at the monsters. He swings with a terrifying rage in his eyes, laser focused on removing each and every single bat from the sky with a sort of feral grace that shouldn’t be possible.

Eddie watches, pants uncomfortably tight, as Steve makes one final swing at the last bat standing (flying?) with a flourish of his wrist, giving the nailbat a little twirl before using it to strike the last creature down.

Steve Harrington is absolutely unreal.

He turns around to face Eddie and Eddie is reminded that, oh yeah, they’re in the middle of a massive battle right now and he had maybe let himself get a little distracted and wow, the blood dripping through Steve’s chest hair as he tosses the nailbat onto his shoulder with practiceed ease is really doing it for Eddie, which would be fine (well, not fine, but at least somewhat manageable) if it were literally any other moment in time.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks Eddie, voice hoarse and raspy in a way that really shouldn’t be sexy because it’s probably caused by Steve breathing spores and demobat guts or something else equally horrifying, but it is hot and there is something deeply wrong with Eddie.

And maybe there is some single solitary shred of mercy left remaining in the universe, because Steve is seemingly too focused on the war waging around them to clock the bulge in Eddie’s pants.

“Yup!” Eddie nods, feeling like a bobble head in his enthusiasm. “Great! Feeling great! Never better!”

Steve gives him an odd look, considering, but seems to accept Eddie’s assertion that he’s unharmed. He probably just attributes the strange behavior to Eddie’s general weirdness, which is perfectly fine with Eddie.

“Good,” Steve’s eyes drift to the steadily growing dark cloud that obscures much of the red sky. “Let’s get moving then.”

He stomps past Eddie, clapping him on the shoulder as he passes. Eddie closes his eyes and scrapes the corners of his mind for the least sexy thoughts he can summon to will his boner away.

“You coming?” Steve calls back from a few yards behind Eddie.

“Right behind you, big boy,” Eddie says. He takes a deep breath in and out before turning to follow Steve back into the fray.

[strawberryspence]

Steve is 19 when Eddie first says it. It's the night Eddie comes home from the hospital, body all bandaged up to help him heal. Steve picks him up, drops him off the brand new trailer and has to say his goodbyes. He's the one who's been staying with Max at the hospital since Lucas started going to school again. Eddie watches, seated on the door, shoulders leaning against the frame.

Eddie waves at him, hand still wrapped protectively on his middle. There's a tired smile on his face, "See you tomorrow, Steve." It's the first time Eddie ever calls him by his first name.

Steve is 20 and Eddie Munson has been saying, "See you tomorrow!" as his goodbye to him since that night. Robin thinks it's for him and for him only. Steve watches Eddie, something he does a lot these days. He watches as he says his goodbye to the kids, says goodbye to Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Argyle. Eddie never once says the words, "See you tomorrow!"

Steve waits for everyone to be gone, hitching rides from the other older kids. Eddie turns to him when everyone has finally left, "Are you staying, Stevie?"

"No. I am leaving too."

Eddie smiles at him, cheeky and dimpled, brown eyes shimmering like a fucking gem against the cheap yellow fluorescent light, "Well then, see you tomorrow, sweetheart."

It clicks. It's not a goodbye, It's a promise. Eddie will see Steve tomorrow, come hell or high water. A promise made for him, and him only.

Steve pulls Eddie by the lapels of his ridiculously shiny jacket and kisses him straight in the mouth.

Steve is 23 when Eddie and him move in to their first apartment together. It's dingy, kind of old, but hey, it's freaking cheap. They unpack boxes of things that was given by Joyce, Karen, Hop, Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair. It's not much but it makes their bare home more livable.

They sleep on the floor with Steve's old mattress laid in the middle of the room, unopened boxes and furniture scattered surrounding them.

It's the first night they sleep together in their first home.

"See you tomorrow, sunshine." Eddie kisses his forehead, his nose and then his lips.

Eddie never says goodnight, just see you tomorrow.

Steve is 25 and it's the first time Eddie won't see him tomorrow. Eddie has to go to New York because Corroded Coffin just got discovered by an agent who wants to sign them.

It's okay. Eddie still calls every night, thank God the time differences of Chicago and New York isn't that big. Steve makes sure Robin isn't using the phone, so Eddie could call and tell him about his day with producers and songwriters and music and Steve can tell him about school essays and presentations for his Education class.

And always, always, just like every night since he was 19, Eddie ends the call with, "See you tomorrow." With whatever name he feels like that day. Sometimes it's sunshine, sometimes it's Stevie, sometimes it's love or baby or sweetheart. It doesn't really matter because it's all Steve.

Sometimes it's not true. Steve doesn't see Eddie the next day. Sometimes it goes on weeks and months on ends before the greeting finally means they get to see each other again.

That's okay. Steve's okay with it because if not tomorrow, he knows he'll still see Eddie again.

Steve is 34 when he hears Eddie say the greeting to someone else for the first time. Adoption is exhausting and repetitive and long and grueling but in the end— with a tiny little baby, cradled right against your arm— it's perfect.

Kids are always a mess. Steve knows because he has seven of them already, all grown up, all spread out in the country, all doing things on their own. And it's exhausting and takes out so much energy from you and your partner.

But with Eddie, all the weariness in his bones dissipate at the image of him, rocking their child on a rocking chair, humming a soft song as he finally tells them, "See you tomorrow, peanut."

Steve is 47 when Eddie and him finally get married. Joyce and Robin plan the wedding and as ridiculous as it sounds, they separate the two of them the night before. Steve rolls his eyes, kisses his groom on the cheek and waits for Eddie to say the four magic words.

"See you tomorrow, fiancé." Eddie whispers against his lips.

They get married the next day, under the bright beaming sun, spring flowers surrounding them as their daughter reluctantly spreads flowers for them.

Steve thinks he's heard so many variations of the greeting, but, "See you tomorrow, husband." might be his favorite from all of them.

Steve is 54 and it's the first time Eddie doesn't say it to him before going to bed. They both silently slip into the bed together, hands intertwined together like the other will float away if they let go.

Apparently being tortured and experimented with half of your childhood has some bad outcomes. It's the day they find out that El has a brain tumor.

Steve is 56 and the Party sleeps beside him and Eddie, tucked into each other like they're 15 again. The last time the Party had a sleepover was in 2000. They still all have sleepovers, don't get him wrong. What Steve means is the sleepover where they're all squished together on the floor, clinging onto each other as they sleep soundly, knowing they're safe and sound with their friends.

They have a sleep over just like that one last time.

"See you tomorrow. I love you." Eddie whispers, just as he falls asleep.

The expired eggos in their fridge gets thrown out six months later.

Steve is 65 when he gets to meet their first grandchild. Eddie is adamant that he is not crying, but his glasses make his tears more visible, making them look like actual diamonds coming out of his eyes.

Their daughter laughs, and lets them hold him for the first time. Steve is a blabbering mess of tears, holding the baby close to his chest. They stay the whole night, to help take care of the baby and their daughter.

And there's nothing more beautiful than the moment the nurse has to take their grandchild away from their daughter and she whispers, as gentle as a feather, "See you tomorrow, Ellie."

Steve is 73 when Eddie first forgets to say goodnight. It's Alzheimer's, it's—

It's not okay. It's never going to be okay. But Steve has to be okay, has to carry on for the love of his life. He takes care of Eddie, because he vowed to do so the day they got married, because he loves this man and he will do anything for him.

Steve tucks Eddie at night, after fits of confusion as to where he is, as to who he is, and kisses his forehead, soft and gentle, and says, "See you tomorrow, Eds."

Steve is 82 when he hears it for the last time.

Eddie's health has been declining. Nine years after his first prognosis, Steve takes it as a win, nine years and his love still battles it everyday.

They've been living in a nursing home, Steve is also getting too old to take care of Eddie. His bones are weary in ways that never goes away, his sight and hearing has always been bad but time has made it worst.

There's something called terminal lucidity. The doctors explain to Steve, in the most gentle way he's ever heard, "You're husband will probably, theoretically, have a moment of clarity where he remembers everything and it will seem like you have him back, but for us it is the sign of his health declining further. I am sorry, Mr. Munson."

Eddie gets it a few days later, and they talk nonstop. They talk about the kids, their grandchildren, about their friends, about how they've lived their lives. They open up photo albums, and point and laugh and smile and cry. Steve excuses himself to go to the bathroom, but only so he can call the others, so they could say their goodbyes. The kids fly in, from all around the country, to say goodbye.

Eddie goes a few hours later, warm and comfortable in his bed, cuddled next to Steve with a big dopey smile on his face, "See you tomorrow, Steve."

Steve smiles back, as Eddie closes his eyes. He stops fighting the ache in his bones, the never-ending beat in his scars.

"See you tomorrow, Eddie."

Steve doesn't see Eddie the next day, not the next, not the next, not the nex—

Until, he finally sees Eddie again.

[tommykinard6]

Should I be eating and resting? Yes. Am I? No, so come join me for a dissertation on Tommy Kinard being lonely.

Edit to add a note since I saw a reblog about it: Tommy has no canonical age right now and Lou is 39, 40 later this year, so that is my basis for saying he’s 39.

Now when I say lonely, I don’t mean that he has no one whatsoever. I can picture him going for drinks with his team or having some Muay Thai buddies that he could call up if he really was inclined. Maybe an old army buddy or two.

But there’s something about Tommy that’s just achingly lonely, both when he was at the 118 and now at Harbor.

Tommy had a broken home, or some other kind of unstable childhood. Maybe his parents split, maybe he was mistreated, maybe he was in the system or was passed around family members. Maybe he was isolated as a child because he was a little overweight (I think Lou said something along those lines) and was bullied. I think Tommy didn’t really have any friends until high school, when puberty hit and maybe he started working out and probably joined the football team. I don’t know if anyone remembers what teenage boys are like, but I can imagine they were the same as they are today back in the 90s/early 00’s. Because around this time, Tommy might’ve started to realize that something was very different about him.

Now this isn’t a meta about how I think Tommy dealt with his sexuality (maybe I’ll do one of those later) but I think he never would’ve risked his football friends knowing even if he himself could acknowledge it, which I doubt. So he messed around, got in trouble with these guys, hung out with the bros, and pretended to be interested in girl talk.

Of course, eventually, his buddies all got girlfriends and he was always the odd one out again.

He didn’t do college. The army was his next step. And I feel like this might have been the first time in his life he wasn’t lonely. He’d learned to blend in by this point and he worked with some great people. But as he started making real friends for the first time, he also started losing them as the war tore them away.

Tommy left the army and joined the fire department. There was an aching hole where the camaraderie of the army had filled previously and with no education beyond a high school diploma, Tommy thought the fire department would replicate that. Not the police though. He’d had enough of guns.

(And ohhhh now so many ideas on his thoughts during the sniper)

But he ended up at the 118 and quickly realized that his team had maybe more of a DADT stance than the army. He realized that he had to put on an elaborate act to fool his fellow firefighters, who had more time on their hands and more prejudice they were willing to wield to pick apart his life. Tommy, who maybe had only just started to acknowledge he felt differently about guys with less panic than before, had no choice but to backslide. He acted and acted and crafted a person he wasn’t until the day that maybe he was. Sal was his closest buddy at the 118 and Tommy had no doubt that Sal would be one of the first to make his life hell. Gerrard seemed to look at Tommy as some sort of mentee. Boxed in by two notorious bigots, Tommy had never felt more claustrophobically alone.

Chim was the first one to reach out a hand of friendship, or at least the first one that didn’t come with caution tape, but he was also an “other” and Tommy, who was confused and afraid and had just had his captain call his bluff on his fake girlfriend, lashed out. Then he allowed Chim in and Chim wasn’t interested in being besties but he was a great drinking buddy and movie buddy and Tommy felt safest around him.

Then Hen came and Tommy watched her get the same treatment he was afraid of. Not that he had to worry about the racism, and he was aware of the privilege, but Hen didn’t exactly hide herself and he watched them bully his lesbian coworker. He let himself get pulled into it all and hated himself for it, but was too cowardly to break away from it. He wasn’t sure why Hen had forgiven him, but she became the only other person on shift he felt even a little safe around other than Howie. But then Chimney and Hen became best friends and Tommy fell to the wayside. They still included him, sure, but they were always a pair and there was something there that Tommy didn’t know but longed for. A closeness he’d never felt.

A best friend. A juvenile idea to him, but one he’d never truly had.

Then Gerrard was gone and Sal got transferred and the 118 moved forward under Captain Nash, but Tommy felt left behind, even in what was the most united A shift team yet. Because he was over 30 and was starting to be unable to ignore everything that he’d had to hide under Gerrard, as he no longer had a distraction from it.

He’d been a pilot in the army, so he transferred to Harbor. And Harbor was great. He wasn’t best buds with anyone (he was starting to think that was never in the cards for him) but his team didn’t carry the same baggage that the 118 had.

So Tommy started to come to terms with himself. He started to date for the first time and came out to his team. And he had several boyfriends, but most couldn’t handle the job or his baggage or the desperate need he had to be wanted. His most long term partner cheated and the one he fell hardest for couldn’t deal when Tommy was injured on the job. Even within his own relationships, he felt like he was destined to stand alone.

Tommy was 39 years old and alone, as always, when Chimney walked back into his life, dragging an adorable and also extremely hot blonde and a stoic brunette that radiated ex military in a way only ex military could know. And then Hen was there and they were trying to rescue their captain and his wife and they clearly loved each other fiercely and like family.

And as Tommy listened, flying through the remnants of a cat 5 hurricane, he thought to himself that he should’ve never left. Simply just never found himself if only that meant being part of the family the 118 was now. However, he knew deep down that he still would’ve been alone and on the outside.

And they rescued the survivors and Tommy thought that was it but then Eddie wanted to hang out. And they liked the same things and had similar experiences and Tommy couldn’t help the hope. Because the loneliness had grown stifling and now he could breathe a little. And then Evan, the cute blonde, wanted a tour of the hanger and he thought that maybe he was being hit on.

And then at the end of it all, Tommy was left realizing that he’d wedged himself between two best friends and that was what happened when he allowed himself to hope. So he went to Evan to apologize. He would get Evan and Eddie to talk to each other and then would fade into the background.

But then Evan was sweet and apologetic and told him that he was part of the 118 family simply by helping them. Tommy couldn’t help it. Here he was, at 39, with a little boy still waiting inside of him to be soothed. And Evan was hot and sweet and Tommy couldn’t help himself.

And he really liked Evan. Evan was adorable. But their first date didn’t go as planned and Tommy knew he was already whipped. So he removed himself before someone could get hurt. Evan deserved better and so did he, even if the loneliness was stifling again.

But then Evan texted him and looked at him with sparkling blue eyes over too sweet coffee and wanted him. Him. He wanted Tommy and to have something with Tommy and he wanted him to come to his sister’s wedding with him.

And Tommy looked at him and saw someone who could finally fill the ache he’d felt his whole life. He saw a man who he knew he wanted to take a chance with. All he had to do was jump.

And he did.

And it wasn’t solved, not immediately and never fully. Too many wounds were left gaping for too long to ever heal. But for the first time in his life, at 39, with the 118 surrounding him and Buck as the sunshine at his side, Tommy finally felt at peace.

[ahellalottafandoms]

So... have we replaced the couch theory with a lasagna theory?

Lasagna not working out 3 times - Abby, Ali and Taylor

The one time it's perfect - with Eddie and Chris

The one time it's burnt and a new recipe - Newly Bi Buck & Tommy

THE ONLY TIME IT'S PERFECT IS WITH EDDIE AND CHRIS!!

[keeksandgigz]

good morning i’ve had this stuck in my head the whole week (this is uh… a true story) buttttt!!!

fucknasty spicy under the cut !!

eddie sending you home after a rough scene— hair all mussed up, faint traces of rope dug into your wrists, makeup smudged under your water line— just overall a mess.

you spend the car ride home in silence just in utter shock about what happened and you can’t stop thinking about his little teasing laugh as he looks at your dilated pupils while he tortures and torments you and a smile slicing his face “You’re loving this shit, aren’t you?” and he’s so mean and domineering your brain just short circuited itself into next year.

the memory of his strong hands gripping your cheeks and squeezing your face to look at him, pulling at the makeshift collar he made with his belt as he keeps pulling and your vision gets blurry enough that you might just pass out, and then he releases his grip, repeating his actions while he gets you closer and closer to the edge.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

4x8 | 7x10

[runningupthatvecna]

this is for all the touch deprived plus size girlies that are very much (still) in love with eddie munson

18+ minors dni

-----

In fact, Eddie loves you.

He loves your plush hips. The valleys and hills of you, soft expanses of extensive skin for him (and him only) to touch.

He loves your cheeks. Perfect for nuzzling his nose into until his lips make contact with your jaw, inhaling your very scent until his lungs burn.

He loves the roundness of your boobs, especially when your hardened nipples perk up, begging for his touch. The squish.

He loves the roundness of your belly, how soft it always presents itself beneath his head and tickling curls of his, a perfect pillow whenever you let him rest on you. The way it separates into parts, valleys between them, a welcome dip for his fingers.

He loves your soft hair and those big arms that offer the best, sincerest, warmest, hugs Eddie has ever known. They are his absolute favourite.

He loves your thighs, my god does he love them, when they jiggle with every step you take, wherever you go, a constant reminder how good they feel around his head. How good they feel beneath his eager fingertips when he runs them up and down and up again.

He loves how wet you always get between them, how the juices are already dripping from your outer lips, telling him that if there's a patch on your panties, a dead giveaway of the effect his very actions have on you. Through the thickness, it just spreads so easily. He loves placing both his thumbs on each of your lips, he loves how he has to spread them apart, he even loves that he has to spread them apart for him to be able to even see you. See your love for him dripping out of you, see all of you, spread open and vulnerable for him. It makes his heart nearly combust in his ribcage.

And god, does he love devouring you whole, slurping it all into his mouth, sucking and licking and sucking some more, knowing how to drive you mad, your soft whimpers and pretty noises meant for his ears only. He loves the way he can bury the entire lower half of his face in your heat, all while your moans and sweet little whimpers are the only thing he wants to hear. Along with the squelch of his fingers of course, knuckles deep inside your cunt.

What he loves most though is when you stare back into his own darkened eyes half-lidded when he stretches you open, the way your sopping heat embraces his cock so easily, how warm you feel, how tight you are, how you're so goddamn fucking needy for him. The noises you make and the way tears form in your eyes because his dick is so bomb and no one has ever been willingly touching you this way.

He loves how incredibly needed you make him feel, how adamantly you're prioritizing him over other people in your life. No one's ever done that for him. Not in this way. Never.

It's a welcome symbiosis.

Eddie loves caressing every inch of you, making so damn sure you know, are aware of, and feel the way you're making him feel. Working so damn hard you'll eventually see just how fucking hot you are to him. He wants to make you forget about all the days and weeks and months and years of being on your own. Make you forget about the shitty things you've been told about yourself. Even if it means he has to pound you silly every night and every morning after and every minute inbetween. Even if it means he has to write you love notes and letters every goddamn day. Cause he would do that. For you.