#eddi circa

[archivodemargenes]

y-yisus

muchas canciones con relaciona yisus craist o la religion

[shushmal]

The latest Family Video customer is barely through the door before Eddie explodes, "Ugh, Tyler."

Beside him, Steve scoffs in agreement, nose wrinkled with distaste. He's so hot. "Yeah, exactly, uugh."

"That should be his middle name. Ugh," Robin chimes in. Eddie's so glad they're in agreement about the bleach-spiked punk guy that graduated three years ago but is still bumming around Hawkins. "Steve, I can't believe you dated that guy."

Seriously, Tyler is the worst— Wait, what—?

"Wait," Eddie says, gaping at Robin. "What?"

"You could barely call it dating," Steve huffs.

"You were together for a month and a half," Robin says. She's got this evil grin on her face and is pointedly not looking at Eddie who is very desperate for Robin to look at him right now, please. "You drove that bum to Indy every weekend. He broke up with you on Valentine's day."

Eddie's weak "Tyler? Tyler Teaks?" gets completely ignored.

"I—" Steve says with haughty emphasis. "—broke up with him on Valentine's day. Don't get it twisted, Buckley."

Robin snorts and finally glances at Eddie. "Steve only broke up with him because the guy blew him off. On Valentine's Day. Which is basically getting broken up with," she tells him, and ignores it when Eddie whimpers at her.

"Yeah, but I'm the one to ended it!" Steve insits.

Eddie, finally, finds his voice, and says, "Tyler Teaks?! Harrington!"

"Ugh," Steve says, slumping against the counter. "I know." He cuts a glare over at Eddie after a moment. "I blame you for this."

"Me?!" Eddie shrieks, incredulous. He's pretty sure he's stepped into another parallel world. Perpendicular world? A world where Steve apparently dates guys—and guys like Tyler Teaks, no less. Eddie's sure he's gone completely batshit insane. "What the hell did I do?!"

Steve stands, cocking his hip the side, and looks down his handsome nose at Eddie. "You wouldn't be my New Year's kiss at Tina's party," he says. "So I had to settle for Tyler Teaks instead."

"What the fuck?" Eddie says, completely lost. "What—? You—? Tina—? KISS—?!"

Beside them, Robin is grinning, laughing, eyes going back and forth between them, munching on a stolen back of skittles—her own personal dramedy on stage before her.

"Yep," Steve says, popping the P. He looks distinctly bitter. "Pulled my best moves on you, and you turned me down."

"Steve," Eddie breathes. He reaches out, places both hands on Steve's shoulders, intent. The eye contact he forces Steve into is desperate. "I don't even remember getting to Tina's New Year's Party." He takes a deep breath. "I woke up in her mom's pantry the next morning with no shoes and no memory of how I got there."

Finally, Steve cracks, a big smile stretching his face. Robin cackles. "Yeah, I kind of figured as much," Steve sighs, wistful now. "You told me, and I quote, 'Steve Harrington, you are very beautiful and I want to have a summer wedding because you'd look beautiful-er with sunflowers'—"

"Don't forget the 'you look so hot in that sweater' part."

"—'But actually, I am a very straight man. So very super straight.' And then you crouched down on the floor and crawled away." Steve is biting his lip now to keep from laughing. Robin is not so nice. "Like I couldn't see you, and the handkerchief flagging in your pocket."

"Oh my god."

"Don't worry, it was really cute," Steve says, grinning. "But, I still needed a New Year's kiss, and unfortunately for everyone involved, Tyler was my only willing choice."

"Oh my god."

"Totally duped me though, he was super sweet the entire night," Steve sighs. His mouth is twisted into genuine regret now. "Plus, the next week, you acted like you'd never spoken to me before, so—"

"OH MY GOD."

Steve and Robin give him twin grimaces. Robin's is a lot more sympathetic. Steve's is confused. "Listen, man," Steve tries to soothe. "I'm sure that's pretty embarrassing, but it was a cute story! No hard feelings, I promise."

Robin's sympathetic grimace deepens.

"No," Eddie says, standing up straight. "I refuse. There is no way I turned down Steve Harrington for a New Year's kiss. There is no way."

"Wait—"

"Eddie, where—"

Eddie marches for the door, digging his keys out of his pockets. "Good-bye friends, I must go see a supergirl about time travel."

[pencilscratchins]

i think nancy brining eddie to prom to piss of her father is actually very funny. (twitter) [ID IN ALT]

[moonylouwho]

Buck, Eddie, and Christopher… ✨Bluey Edition✨

[ebongawk]

did u guys know that Eddie Munson actually stole my tattoo

[1980ssunflower]

love being the one dude who never gets new f/o's LMAO

[aiiaiiiyo]

[basicbutpsycho]

[archivodemargenes]

u-unión

colectivos lgbt y uniones de gente queer <3 a juntarse chiques

[yovrnewromantic]

WORTH IT

ex!husband eddie munson x reader

based on the hc! by me that eddie kidnaps your kids, charging kisses for ransom wc: 1.2K

“You know you can’t keep doing this.”

Eddie can hardly hold back a pout. He knows you’ll criticize him if he lets it slip, reminding him that ‘he’s a grown man for goodness’ sake’ even though his puppy eyes never fail to succeed against you. Except once. Only once, when you filed for divorce circa 12 years ago.

Filed into the back of the van, your children are pressing their faces up against the glass windows. Their eyes are wide, noses are upturned, fogging up the glass with each breath— looking like the myth of pig-men came to life and are giddy to draw smiley faces and ‘hi mom’s into the steamed up glass. Unlike you, they enjoy when their dad kidnaps them, waving their teachers off with forged letters so they can hobble into his car and fiddle with the stereo as he stops at the florist, and biting their lips to stop their excitement when they see your old camaro pull up.

Forget-Me-Nots lay half-forgotten at Eddie’s side as he ruffles his already messy curls, mesmerized as you step out the car, mom jeans and rock shirt hanging loose. You look as beautiful as the day he met you. Some days, he feels like it is the first time he met you, his heart paralyzed by a certain type of warmth at the sight of your face. It’s like everything around you disappears and he recognizes his purpose. You. You make him feel like a teenager in love.

“Eventually I’m just gonna call the cops on your ass.”

Angry is not how you would describe yourself in the moment. The first time it happened, hell, you were pissed. Smoke practically blew out your ears when he first called, interrupting himself with giggles while he announced “The prince and princess of, phh, Munsonville have been exiled along with the King. Haha, oh um— If you wish to see them ever again, you must pay the price!” After the second, third, fourth, and tenth time, it’s only become a nuance.

“Hi, Mom!” your daughter calls out, voice muffled. Her hands are sprawled against the window, the hair that was once well-kept into two braids is now fuzzy and tangled. Her brown doe eyes peering at you, standing on her tippy toes to see. Looking like the splitting image of her father. Behind her, your son is playing with Eddie’s electric-blue guitar, strumming the string so harshly that you cringe, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’s still staring at you.

Dumbly, Eddie just sticks the bouquet in your face, his fist inches from your face. “M’lady.” Through the thin stems of your favorite flower, you can see his lopsided smile.

Rather delicately, you take the flowers from his grasp, looking at them for a second too long to keep up your uneffected act. These must’ve been on sale, you assure yourself. He doesn’t remember the flowers you walked up the isle with, he couldn’t have. When you can finally drag your eyes away, your brows are furrowed. Something fluttering in your stomach as Eddie tilts his head, usual shit-eating grin strangely sweet. Small indigo petals flutter to the ground as they’re knocked off their branches from impact of hitting Eddie square in chest.

“Ow!” He lifts his arms up in defense. The purple-blue veins that flex on his bicep matching the shade of the dwindling flowers. “Y/N!”

Finally, easing your attack, your chest rises and falls as you point a finger at his chest. “Give my kids, Munson!”

“Mrs. Munson!” Again, you raise the flowers to wack him over the head, but Eddie’s hand grips your wrist, holding it in place and smiling innocently at you. “You know the drill by now.”

Groaning, you hide your face in what’s left of your flowers, a red hue rising on your cheeks. It’s embarrassing— giving in this easy to your ex husband’s demands, but there’s a special spot in your heart for Eddie that just. won’t. go. away. No matter how many dates you went on, no one could replace him.

Eddie’s hands are gentle as they pry your hands, and flowers, away from your face. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath. Harshly sighing through your nose, and trying to convincingly eye roll, you choke out, “What do I owe this time?”

“Well, seeing as it took you ten extra minutes to get here from the estimated time…”

You shake your head. “I was busy explaining why the teachers didn’t need to issue an amber alert, dipshi—.”

“Ten kisses.” He’s too happy with himself, rocking back and forth on his heels as he watched the disbelief transform your pretty face.

“Ten?”

He raises his brows, playfully puckering. “Lay ‘em on me, honey.”

It’s never not awkward, begrudgingly (not really) approaching your ex husband with slow, torturous movements. Fingers finding his tattooed skin— which you used to color before you became adults and life went to shit, tracing up the expense of his arms until your hands connect around the back of his neck. He’s nibbling his lip as you inch forward, impatient. When your lips are close enough to touch, your breaths sync and your eyes meet. Heart racing, your eyes flutter shut. Lightly, the plush of your lips meet his— always surprising— soft lips. One.

Again. Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Eddie can’t help himself. His hands fly to your waist, squeezing the flesh he can reach and pulling your closer, shoving his tongue in your mouth when your hands tug on his hair. He tastes just as you remember, like tobacco and cheerios. As his tongue explores your mouth, you moan into his. Betrayed by your own body, dammit. His lips twitch against yours. When his teeth start to clash against yours, that’s when you pull away, a thick string of saliva connecting you. Nine.

Your eyes are hazy, a dumbstruck, lightheaded feeling coming over your body as you lean forward again. Foreheads connecting. Your noses nudging. Panting into each other’s mouth. Far too sensual for a divorced couple. Eddie finishes the last kiss for you, pecking your lips. Your breath hitches when he drags his teeth against the bottom. Ten.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he chuckles, panting. His large palm finds the bottom of your ass.

“Go to hell,” you whisper against his lips. “Kids!”

“Already in the car, Mom!” Tucked in the back of the car, seat belts buckled, your children look unimpressed. Your cheeks go bright red as you adjust yourself, trying hard not to stomp to the car as you avoid contact with Eddie, who walks slowly, cockily, behind you.

“I’ll call you later, sweetheart!”

You shove your hand out your unrolled window, middle finger up. Eddie’s laugh makes your chest tighten, but you won’t let it show, flipping on your sunglasses and pulling the fuck away from him. Eddie smiles as his kids wave through the window, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans with a knowing look on his face.

He’ll win you back eventually.

—

p.s. 💋

“Mommy, are you and daddy getting back together?”

With your grip tightening on the steering wheel, knuckles turning your white, you meet your five year old son’s clueless eyes in the review mirror— the product of the last time you got back together with his father. “Not a chance.”

not edited or read over 😔

[doomsdaybby]

OMGOMGOMG I saw a video of a girl talking about the blood vial d20 her boyfriend gifted her, and now I can't get eddie and reader out of my head!! Imagine giving eddie a set of dice for him to find out it's filled with your blood😵‍💫😵‍💫 help me I'm spiralling.

HELP WHERE IS THAT VIDEO?! also sorry if this took a hot second i've been busy in my irl job 🤢 and this initially ended up being a little longer than I had planned so I had to cut and edit lmao. but anyways, enjoy!!

eddie munson x fem!reader. (small cw for sexual suggestion, a teeny weeny bit hot n' heavy at the end, but this is mainly just some cute silly fluff!)

"Why do I need to close my eyes, babe?" Eddie's giggling something pretty, and you're right there with him, a pitched girly lilt that has Eddie's already beaming smile spreading impossibly wider across his pink cheeks.

You're sitting crossed legged propped up by the pillows on Eddie's bed, the worn mattress actually covered with a freshly washed sheet which was a rare occasion. Though, to be fair to him, it was your one year anniversary.

Eddie hadn't shut up about it the whole month prior. Grinning from ear to ear and tucking you close to his side whenever he mentioned it. The Hellfire boys had depleted into eye-rolls and groaned 'oh yeah's and 'how could we forget's. Not to be malicious, they were very pleased for the both of you, though the consistency with no room for anything else in conversation did, eventually, get just slightly irritating.

Though neither of you cared, you were completely and utterly smitten with one another.

He had also meticulously marked it down to the day on his shabby swimsuit model calendar circa 1985, the one that displayed pride of place amongst arrays of polaroids that captured the two of you in eternal besotted stills.

His smile lines captivate his beautiful face, the mattress dipping as you sit beside him. His knees knock with yours as you shuffle across the bed, mirroring his position directly across from him.

"Just.. sit still," the breath of your laugh sweeps over his face, closer than he had initially thought you were. He scrunches his brows in question, guarding himself with his shoulder in a small startle when you lean forward to bestow just one gentle kiss on his exposed skin, right below the curve of his jaw.

You smile against the column of his throat, cheap cologne and long-since smoked cigarettes lingering on his Iron Maiden t-shirt. You could bask in him all day. Eyes still closed, just as you'd asked, you take Eddie's hand with a gentle squeeze. You turn his palm over lovingly in yours, placing the gift in the centre. "Okay, pretty boy," the way you say it has Eddie's heart skipping a beat, coaxing him back to the curve of your lips like a sailor to a siren call. "Open".

Cushioned in his hand sat a custom made D20 dice; a deep ruby red swirls inside in a lava-lamp fashion, the numbers a stunning glittered gold. And to top it off, your initials engraved just above the number 20.

"Babe, I fucking love it!" Eddie's eyes fucking glitter when they open, as rich as hot cocoa, and he's grabbing your face and kissing your nose, lips, forehead and each cheek for good measure. Your eyes are glinting along with him, shimmering with a enamoured warmth and your chest feels full to the brim with swarming butterflies.

"The resin looks so cool" he's rolling the dice in his fingers, swooning and admiring the way the liquid inside shifts in large globules. A kid in a candy store. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but the way to your man's heart is through DnD.

"What kind of resin is this? It's really dark" Eddie's holding the dice up to the light, and his confusion makes you melt, in a funny sort of way. The scrunch of his nose, the knitting of his brows, the pout of his bottom lip the cherry on top amongst the curiosity.

"It's not resin, Eds..." you're shy then. Overcome with a gnawing shred of unease, just a taste.

"What the hell is it then?" he's eyeing you strangely, smirk still pride of place, eyes creasing at the corners when they narrow in your direction. "Is it cursed?" he shoves it away from him to hold it at arms length, a mess of feigned theatrics, and you're suddenly laughing again, the same sugary sweet giggle that makes his teeth hurt.

"It's my blood" you're still laughing with him, the lack of sincerity to your tone has Eddie believing you're joking, especially by the way he's now cracking up more than you.

"Okay, but really, what is it?". "My blood," you reiterate, more deadpan and as serious as you can be in the moment. He's rotating it around in his fingers again with much more intent, with what you can only described as almost childlike wonder.

His eyes inspect each side, right from number 1 through 20, delicately swinging his thumb over where your initials are engraved. "You serious?" he asks quieter, head a little dizzy and a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, somewhat shocked disbelief coating his words.

He's quiet when you nod, your heart beginning to beat a little faster. He hates it. He hates you. You've scared him off. This is too much for him. Wait, too much for EDDIE? I'm gonna be sick.

It's when he shifts uncomfortably on the mattress that those fleeting thoughts silence for a moment, and you watch with a hard undisguised stare as he adjusts the front of his sweatpants to lay his forearm there.

"Do you have a boner right now?" you scoff at him after a couple of quiet moments, not to be mean, your tongue feels too big for your mouth and your heart is pumping too loud in your ears with adrenaline. He doesn't answer the question, you already know that he does. Then, without another word, Eddie is swallowing your face in his palms, caging you in as his lips meld to yours. It's fervent, carnal, the way he kisses you. Then comes a delicate brush of fingertips along the column of your throat, pushing away the strands of hair there, and you're hooking your nails into the frizzy curls at the back of his head.

It's quick, crude, and leaves you a little breathless. All tongues and teeth, Eddie's way of saying 'thank you' and 'I love you' without the words coming to any fruition.

He draws back first with a pant, savouring the way your lips chase his. Your head is dizzy, drunk off of him. And you wouldn't dare to waste a moment more once his next words exit.

"Take your clothes off, right now".

[2jihiir0]

circa 1996, somewhere in Chicago 🖤

Eddie just got out of prison and Steve hasn’t heard about him since the events of 86 ..

[paintedpatroclus]

eddie and winnie circa 1990

(steddie kid steddie kid steddie kid!)

[strawberryspence]

Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.

Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.

They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.

Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.

And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.

Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.

There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.

They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.

The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.

It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”

The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”

Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”

It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.

Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

time travel au that has everyone circa season 1 travelling like ten years into the future and s1 steve and robin, who do not know each other in any way, have to come to terms with the fact that in ten years they'll apparently be married?????

and also eddie munson apparently lives with them which is definitely super weird but steve's too worried about his apparent fall in standards and robins too worried that she's like. failed as a lesbian and caved to be in a loveless heterosexual marriage to notice that older steve and robin are clearly close, yeah, but they never kiss or do anything explicitly romantic, and older eddie munson is literally hanging off older steve looking like he's gonna die of laughter any time s1 steve asks if older him and robin are trying for kids