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eddies-munsonmoved · 2 years ago

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dealer’s choice pt. 2 /no! i just think i’m two steps nearer to my grave

pairing: eddie munson/oc (cynthia moose) fandom: stranger things wc: 3.3k note: this took for-fuckin-ever, im so sorry. here they are! warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of drugs and alcohol,

Hopper leaned down, taking his sunglasses off and asked, “where are you two coming from?"

Eddie got nervous, he wanted to say something but this wasn’t his situation and he didn’t want to get Moose in trouble for his weed run. But he was stunned even more by how she replied to the cop.

“Skull Rock.”

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February 1985, Cherry Lane

3:17 pm. The dungeons and dragons curse, she liked to call it. Whenever someone brought D&D up to her in any capacity, no matter if her sister was around or not, she would be roped into babysitting a bunch of smelly pre-teens. (This time it was an offhand comment made by Jeff in her sixth period science class)

“Cyn, please?” Bethany pleaded for the third time this hour. “Mike’s dad doesn’t want us over there for another session, and we have the only area big enough.”

“You mean we have less supervision here. Since mom went back to work.”

Bethany shrugged as her sister sighed and turned the tv off, “please?”

“It’s my only day off this week.” Cynthia muttered to herself. “Fine. But you have to clean whatever mess you guys make down there.”

Not even thirty minutes later, Cynthia’s car was filled by three boys, two girls and they had just finished descending their madness upon Bradley’s Big Buy to get snacks and pizza for the weekend. They were loud and caused a ruckus in the store and she was just glad to get out of there with her dignity.

After piling the kids into the car, she almost turned the wrong way and they all let her know about it, “We gotta get Will!”

As they pulled up to the Byers’ place, she put the car in park and looked at the kids in silence, no one was getting out. “Are you guys serious? Go get him.”

“You have to talk to Joyce.” Mike informed the older teen.

She grumbled as she got out of the car, and walked up to the front door. She put on a small smile as she knocked twice.

“Cynthia, hi.” Joyce greeted, opening the door.

“Hey, I came to get Will, if that’s alright.” She gestured to the car where the five kids could be seen arguing animatedly, “Beth is hosting for their session this weekend, something about Mr. Wheeler wanting them to get out of the house?”

Before Joyce could even respond, Will went zipping between them and jumped into the car, clearly an overfilled backpack swinging onto his back.

“That’s fine, is your mom home?”

“No,” Cynthia drew out. “But I don’t have to work until four tomorrow and if they run extra long, I’m sure Tim could watch them.”

“Okay, I’ll have Jonathan drop by after he gets off work to see if Will needs anything, is that alright?”

“Yeah, that’s cool. They probably wanna get outta here, I’ll see you around.”

Five hours later and they were starting to drive her crazy, they’ve gone through half their snacks and had three pizzas already. She heard another set of screams from the basement and she got up and padded to the kitchen landline and flipped open the phonebook.

Finding the number, she typed it in and held the phone to her ear, listening to the ring for a minute before a man’s voice came over the speaker, “Hello?”

“Hey, is this Eddie?”

“Yeah?” The other line sounded skeptical, “who’s this?”

“Cynthia.”

It was quiet for a moment. “Oh, Moose. What’s going on?”

“Okay,” she chuckled, “not to be a sob story but I’m fuckin stranded at my house with a gaggle of middle schoolers and I really need a smoke. If it’s not too inconvenient, could you run me a bag?”

“Sure, what did you want?”

“I got… ten bucks. So, what? A quarter?” She answered.

“Alright,” He answered, she heard keys shuffling on his end, “Cherry Lane, right?”

“Yeah, thanks, dude.”

“See you in a bit.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Cynthia replied, hanging up the phone before going back to her bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, Cynthia was in the middle of her Blondie cassette when she saw a pair of headlights flash through her window, signaling that someone just pulled into the driveway. She rolled out of bed and grabbed one of her dad’s sweaters and went out to the living room.

Expecting Eddie to be outside, she was surprised when she opened the door to see Jonathan Byers. “Hey, I forgot you were dropping by.”

“I was late.” He muttered.

She widened the door for him to come in and she spotted Nancy coming up the walkway with a smile.

“Hi, Cynthia.”

“Hey, Nance,” Shutting the door behind the couple, she continued, “the kids are in the basement. The last door on the right in the hall will have the stairs.”

✰✰✰

Eddie pulled up to the Moose’s house, Jeff in his passenger seat. They both spotted an extra car parked in front of the house. “Weird,” he shrugged to his friend and bandmate before trying to get out of the van.

Jeff laughed in response before stopping and grabbing the older boy’s arm, “I think she’s coming out.”

Settling back down, he watched Cynthia walk between the parked cars and approach the window he just rolled down.

Leaning against the van, she laid her forearms over the opening, “hey guys, thanks for comin’ out.” She quickly held out a bill between her fingers.

“It’s no big deal. Jeff needed a ride home anyways.” Eddie shrugged once again, passing a baggy into her hand that was still resting in the van. “Actually, Moose, I heard some shit about you today.”

“Oh shit.” She laughed, keeping one hand on the van as she leaned away and put her weed away. Fumbling with something else in her pocket, she tried to change the subject, “do you want some candy?”

“Don’t try to change the subject.” Eddie smiled at her as she leaned back against the van, defeated.

“Fuck,” she groaned. “First, what did you hear?”

“Apparently Hopper chased you down for being… ‘drunk and disorderly’ out on Kerley last night.” He explained as Jeff laughed in the other seat, the younger boy knew the actual story, hearing it from Cynthia in their shared class.

The girl hung her head in shame.

“It’s all good, Moose. It’s happened to the best of us.” That made Jeff laugh even more.

“Sucks you believe that, Munson.” She finally responded, “I wasn’t drunk and disorderly, alright? I was walking home, extremely sober, from the Wheelers’ after Nancy’s mom snitched on me.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, it was past curfew so he had to pick me up. That and I’ve been out of the house since Sunday.”

“You’re not home a whole lot, are you?” Eddie asked, slightly concerned.

Cynthia deflected with a laugh and a shrug, “do you want some candy? Last offer.”

“I’ll have some.” Jeff spoke up, holding his hand out.

Reaching over Eddie and handing their friend a small candy bar, Cynthia turned her attention back to the metalhead, “What about you, Eddie? Want some candy?”

“Yeah, of course. Got any chocolate?”

“You’re shit outta luck, dude, I got a sucker or sweethearts.” She laughed, fiddling around in her pocket once again.

Defeated, Eddie set out his hand, “I’ll take the sucker.”

“A sucker for a sucker.” Cynthia laughed, handing him a red, heart-shaped sucker. “See you guys around.”

They watched as she walked back up to the house before turning the van back on. “What’d you get?” Eddie asked his friend when he heard him eating the candy he just received.

“Laffy Taffy.”

Nodding, he didn’t believe his friend. “Sure. Taffy? Jeff, you have braces.”

“I can indulge.” He lied, trying to stop the older boy from wrestling his hand open to find the wrapper.

Eddie was victorious, “a snickers? Jeffrey, I think Moose is playing favorites.”

June 1985 Forest Hills Trailer Park

2:43 pm. Eddie trudged out to his van in the late June heat. He was currently thankful for his KISS shirt that he cropped so the edge of it sat right above the waistline of his jean shorts. After he got in, keeping the door open, he took some time to dig through his cassettes. Ultimately deciding on Blizzard of Ozz before sticking a cigarette between his lips and starting his van to limp to the more experienced mechanics.

Speeding up the road, he spotted a familiar station wagon turn onto the road. Slowing down to let the car pass on the narrow street, he was met with Moose. Wallace had told him the day before that she was asking about him. Eddie’s friend seemed exasperated about the topic.

Setting the cigarette down, he cranked his window open as the driver of the opposite car slowed down by him, “What’s up, Moose?” He leaned out of his van, disregarding the heat.

She seemed unprepared as she shuffled to mirror the older boy, “I heard from Wally that you were back in town and I was out today so I wanted to drop by to see if you had any?”

The boy laughed and ran a hand through his messy bangs, “yeah, I have to go see my guy and get some. Could you give me a ride?”

“Um, I— yeah, that’s cool.”

“You sure?” he asked, she nodded, “meet me at Bell’s Auto on Pine? I have to bring this beast in.” He patted the door for good measure.

“Sure thing.”

✰✰✰

Eddie slowly pulled into Bell’s right in front of the garage doors and was surprised to see Moose already there, moving bags from the front seat and setting them into the back. When did she pass him up?

He got out and watched as she pushed a cooler onto the back seat, “How’d you get here so fast?”

She jumped in surprise, somehow not noticing Eddie behind her, with a laugh she replied, “you took an odd turn, I just went up Main.”

“My way’s faster.” He defended his ‘odd’ turn. He felt a bloom in his chest as she laughed at what he said. It was then he noticed that their outfits were nearly similar.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Munson.”

The drive was nearly silent, only the wind and the occasional puff of a cigarette occupied the car.

Cynthia pulled her hand in from the outside and glanced at the boy next to her, “there’s a box under your seat, it has some of my tunes in it. Find something you like.”

“You gonna have anything my speed?” He half-joked. He grew hopeful when he looked over at her, a smile on her face and AC/DC on her tee.

“Don’t start, Eddie.”

It took him a couple minutes of picking up a case and looking to see what it was before he found one that was clearly made at home and the cover just said Summer ‘82 (KISS, Crüe, Blondie, Whitney). Popping it into the radio, he waited, listening, until the beginning notes of Sure Know Something started.

“Where did you find that?”

He thought he did something wrong for a second before she turned up the music and started bobbing her head. “It was at the bottom of the box.”

“Good pick.” She complimented, taking a puff of the cigarette between her fingers.

Another 20 minutes down the road, Eddie instructed her to pull over to a small, shaded path, “wait here, I’ll walk the rest of the way and be back in a bit.”

“Okay,” she sighed, relenting. Cynthia wanted to just drive him up but he told her that his guy didn’t like people knowing where he lived. “See you in a bit.”

For the fifteen minutes that Eddie was gone, Cynthia mindlessly flipped through one of her sister’s old wrestling newsletters in between killing the odd mosquito that made its way into the warm car.

The current summer air reminded her of the days that her dad would take her and Beth to swim out at Jordan Lake in east Hawkins. She could feel the sadness building in her chest as she reminisced about days that were long gone; melting down onto the leather bench, she tried to breathe, pushing away tears that were about to spill out.

When she finally calmed herself down, she opened her eyes. They were blurry and when she looked up and out of the passenger window by her feet, she saw a blurry figure. She flinched hard, “son of a bitch.” She gasped as she wiped her eyes and saw Eddie, smiling with concern in his eyes.

Reaching forward, she pulled the lock up and let Eddie in, “scared the hell outta me, man.”

“I could tell.” He snickered, “takin’ a nap, Moose? Am I that boring?”

She laughed as she scooched back into the driver seat, “You’re thrilling, bud. I was resting my eyes.”

“Okay.” He relented, settling into the seat, he put a bag onto the floor by his feet as he watched the girl next to him lay her head on the steering wheel. “You alright?”

When she didn’t respond, Eddie hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder, “hey.”

She peered over at him from behind the hair that curtained her in like a shield, “I’m alright.”

Eddie pulled his hand away as she leaned back against the seat as she gathered her hair into her hands.

Giving a small smile, Cynthia actually looked over at him. “I’m good. Long day.” Tying her long, dark hair into a bun before she started the car, “let’s get outta here, yeah?”

On the way back, Eddie had pointed her to a left turn and continued in the winding woods, he insisted continuing around the lake would be quicker to get back into town.

“So what happened to your van?”

Eddie picked at his rings, “I just got back from Saginaw, fucked up my tires pretty bad on the way back. Also just general wear and tear.”

“You do drive like a mad-man.” Cynthia laughed.

“I’d call it efficient.”

“Whatever you say, Munson,” she playfully rolled her eyes. “What were you doing in Michigan, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He pulled his eyes from the road and watched as they sped through the trees, he rubbed at his slightly tanned arms nervously before he eventually answered, “I went to visit my mom.”

“Oh,” Cynthia readjusted her grip on the wheel and took a glimpse at the boy in her passenger seat, “how’d that go?”

“Alright.” Eddie shrugged, shrinking into himself. “Yeah, I had to break the news to her that I got held back. Again.”

“Shit, man. I’m sorry.” It was silent in the van for what seemed like forever, only the radio playing between them. She didn’t really know how to respond. “At least now you get to finish it out with Jeff and Wallace.” Maybe not the right thing to say but it could be comforting.

He gave a small laugh, “Yeah, stupid might cancel out somehow.”

She peeked at the boy to her right and gave him a nudge on the shoulder. “Trust me, it does. How do you think we got Tim outta there?”

“Oh, yeah. Henderson.”

“Yeah,” Cynthia was caught off guard by his response. “What happened with you guys? He says you were his first friend when he moved to town.”

“I guess. Then he went full dark side on us.”

Cynthia felt bad laughing, knowing it would egg Eddie on in his incoming rant. “Dark side? Wow.”

“Yeah! We were cool at first when school started then he just dropped us.” He started waving his hands as he talked. “Then he started sports and hanging around guys like Bull and Tommy B. We tried to be cool but—“

“How long has that truck been behind us?” She interrupted, looking in the rearview mirror.

“I don’t know, but it does look like a—” He tried to turn around to look properly before Cynthia laid a hand on his arm, making him sit forward.

“Oh fuck, it’s fucking Hopper. Oh shit.”

“Are you sure?” He leaned over, looking in the mirror on his side of the car while shuffling his bag further under the seat.

“Yes, I’m sure. The fuck is he doing out here?”

“He’s a cop, Moose, isn’t it kinda his job to be out here?”

Running a hand through her hair, she kept her speed moderate. “I guess. Shouldn’t he be dealing with shitbirds over at the mall?” She didn’t have another moment to chill out before the blue and red light started flashing on the truck behind them. “I can handle this, just sit there and look pretty,” she tried to crack a quick joke.

Eddie nodded with a quick laugh as they pulled into the dirt and waited for the cops to walk up the car.

“What’s goin’ on, rat-stache?” Cynthia nodded at Callahan as he appeared at her passenger window.

“Really?” We pulled you over and you’re gonna under—” The younger cop was cut off.

“Cynthia Moose.” Hopper greeted, setting his hat on the top of her car. “And,” he leaned down, getting a better glimpse at the guest in her car, “Eddie Munson, didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Yeah, just last night.”

Hopper scanned the odd pair and waited for a smart remark from the Moose girl akin to the one Callahan received. When she didn’t speak up, he said, “Your mom called the station today. Wanna tell me why?”

“I don’t know, man.” Cynthia was genuinely taken aback. “She knows I have the car, I have work tonight.”

“I need something better than that, last time we got a call like this, we found you out by the Pinelli’s up in Merrick Park after six days.” He was losing his patience with the girl.

“Dude, I—“ She was getting frustrated, there was really no reason for this. “I don’t know. I brought Beth to her softball game at noon and that’s it.”

“That’s it?” Hopper leaned down, taking his sunglasses off and asked, “where are you two coming from?”

“Can we keep this between us? She’s not gonna be happy with me,” Cynthia rambled on, “I just got my shit together, my mom can’t know about this. Please, Hopper?”

Jim Hopper sighed and, with a stern nod, told Callahan to go back to the truck.

Eddie got nervous, he wanted to say something but this wasn’t really his situation and he didn’t want to get Moose in trouble for his weed run. But he was stunned even more by how she replied to the cop.

“Skull Rock.”

The cop was taken aback, repeating, “Skull Rock?” to the teens in the car incredulously.

“Yeah, man,” Cynthia replied, becoming more confident in her lie, “why do you think we got a cooler and blankets back there? We had a picnic and.. Hung out.”

“Okay.” Hopper nodded; not really believing the pair but knowing Cynthia’s past boyfriend, he took it into consideration as he peeked behind them into the back of the wagon. “This true, Munson?”

Eddie looked beyond Moose’s dark, pleading eyes and straight at the Chief, “Yes.”

He didn’t want to deal with this, but he found that it was better to deal with Elaine Moose’s calls regarding her oldest sooner rather than later. Sighing, wiping sweat from his brow, “Get back to town, go see your mother. I won’t mention this.”

Cynthia let out a deep breath, “holy shit, thank you.”

“Yeah,” Hopper grabbed his hat and stepped away from the car, “get outta here.”

Eddie also let out a breath as he heard the engine turn over and they started rolling.

“Holy shit, holy shit.” The girl basically chanted as they picked up speed, heading back to town.

“Hey, Moose?” It was his turn to interrupt as he leaned his head back against the car. “If it’s alright, I’m never riding with you anywhere ever again.”

Letting out a quick laugh before she pushed a cassette into the radio, she replied, “Understandable.”

#ocapp #strangerthingsocs #allaboutocs #fd: stranger things #c: cynthia moose #w: running town #eddie munson x oc #k writes #oc tag #eddie munson #stranger things

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dancingsunflowers-ocs · 1 year ago

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If Annette had to organise a day out with Steve and Robin.. the agenda would include; watching a movie at the movie theater, a look around an art gallery, followed with a trip to Scoops Ahoy.

Thank you so much for the question @foxesandmagic and thank you so much to whoever nominated me!! 💕

Steve Harrington and Annette Buckley AND Robin Buckley and Annett [Stranger Things] nominated as part of my Creativity Exchange July 2023 for @dancingsunflowers-ocs

Question: If Annette had to organise a day out with Steve and Robin (individual days, or together) what would go on the agenda?

#oc: annette buckley #fd: stranger things

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streamafterlaughter · 4 months ago

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Fundamental Differing

Chapter XXV: Just Once, He Talked Back

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev

tags: this fic is rated 18+ MDNI | eddie x gn!reader, slight angst, time jump, slight rpf (nothing explicit or weird just for backstory reasons<3) slow burn, fluff (finally?!)

a/n: this is a shorter chapter!! a lil angsty a lil cutesy. a lotta lore! maybe i’m drawing this out bc i’m not entirely ready to say goodbye to fd yet. idk. don’t look at me!

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

—

Your POV

You throw your phone to the floor, effectively disconnecting your line. Before long, though, you hear it downstairs. “Honey, the phone’s for you! Can you pick it up there?” Your mom calls for you again, and you groan.

“I’m not here!”

“It’s Eddie!” Your mom really isn’t getting it. You reach for your phone, begrudgingly plugging it back into the wall. It starts ringing immediately.

“What could you possibly have to say right now?”

His voice cracks over the receiver. “Baby, please. That picture was taken forever ago. I promise-“

You sigh. “When.”

“What?”

“When was the picture taken, Eddie?”

Pause. Silence. You chew on your bottom lip, regretting your question.

“February.”

“Of this year?!”

It’s Eddie’s turn to yell. “Why does it matter? We hadn’t talked for so long, she’s a friend-“

“There is no fucking way you’re just friends with Kathleen fuckin’ Hanna, Eddie! Did you sleep with her?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me!”

Eddie’s POV

There is no right answer to this question, he knows that. The truth is yeah, he did. Of course he did! He was high, and very drunk, and she was so beautiful, so nice to him. And he was so, so lonely. If he recalls correctly, though, he thought about you the whole time. Not that that information would help his case.

He doesn’t want to tell you, but he’s decided against lying to you ever again.

“Yeah, I did.” The line goes dead, dial tone buzzing in his ears. “Fuck!” He slams the phone back into its cradle. “I’m Sorry Wayne, I gotta go.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stick around, let ‘em cool off?” Wayne calls to Eddie from the kitchen table.

“No.” He surprises himself with how easily it comes out. “I can’t lose ‘em again. I’ll come back, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves dismissively at his nephew. “Go fix it. And quit doin’ stupid shit, would ya?”

Eddie chuckles despite himself. “Yessir.”

The flight to Boston only takes three hours, but they’re the longest of Eddie’s life, and he’s gone through alcohol withdrawal. Logan airport bustles with tourists and townies. “Whe’d we pahk the cah?” A dad turns to his flustered wife, who’s got one kid on her hip, another yanking on her hand.

Eddie hails a cab outside before remembering he doesn’t know your address. “Shit.” He mumbles, crawling back out of the taxi and jogging to the pay phone outside.

The operator connects him to Steve. “Hello?”

“Steve, man, hey. Where does Y/n live?”

“In Boston, dude. You know that.”

“No! Their address, I need their address.”

“Why would you need their address? Wouldn’t they tell you- Oh no. The magazine?”

“Yeah, the fuckin’ magazine, man! Now please, where do they live?” Steve recites an address for Eddie to scribble on his forearm. “Thank you. Lifesaver, seriously.”

“Yeah, a few times now.” Eddie laughs with him before hanging up.

Your POV

“Coming, jeez!” You wrap your blanket around your shoulders before answering the door, the figure before you ripping every thought from your head. Eddie stands there in a too big sweatshirt and gym shorts, a duffle bag on his arm. Your parents are out to dinner but you were too sad to go, so you’re in your pajamas with a burrito and your second drink of the evening. “What the fuck?”

“Can I explain? Please?”

“Eddie, what—“

He pushes past you into the hallway, closing the door behind him. “Please.” Is all he says, and you resign, nodding as you crawl back into your spot on the couch. He sits at the other end, too much space between you for your liking. No. Stay mad. But how can you, when he’s here? When he came here, supposedly, to make things right?

Eddie huffs a breath, and you focus your attention. “Okay. Explain.”

—

February 1992

Eddie’s POV

Seattle makes him sad now. Last time he was here, it was with you, and you were still his. The Limelight bar is dim tonight, a few locals nestled into corner booths. Eddie sits in one with colleagues, not friends. He’s not sure he has friends anymore, but these people are important, financially. According to Steve, at least.

He takes another swig of his drink, a double jack and coke, hold the coke. It’s been a dark day, still reeling from the news this morning.

As if to torture him, the screen of the tiny bar TV seems to glow, summoning him to watch. MTV returns to the air, the perky host droning on. Until he’s not, when he starts in on “The underground riotgrrl movement.” He growls the word like a confused dog, but then adds. “We have a new single from Death Dance Approximately. This is Choke On It!”

The MTV logo flickers, and then you’re on the screen, right in front of him. You and your band are dressed in suits, spread out behind a pulpit in front of pews full of stuffy adults. The camera closes up on you, in dark eyeshadow and blood red lipstick, glaring into the lense as you sing.

Left for dead to save yourself / Asked for help but got drowned out. / That fire still lives inside of me, / I just hope one day I’ll get to see…” The scene changes, and Eddie sits up straighter. The video portrays a flashback, where the character you’re playing is wearing much brighter clothing, and holding hands with a handsome actor Eddie’s probably met eight different times without realizing it. He’s got an average face, nothing remarkable about him. That is until he turns around, and his cheap costume vest has the words Corrupted Cadaver painted across the back. The logo is eerily similar to the old Corroded Coffin scrawl, from way before the band got big. It isn’t meant to let everyone know, only him. And it hits exactly where he’s sure you meant it, chest stinging from the realization.

The scene changes again, portraying the couple fighting angrily, Mr. Every Man pointing and exclaiming at your character while you cry and scream back. At some point, you throw a plate, and Eddie less than fondly recalls the time you’d almost knocked him out with a coffee mug.

“Drinkin’ alone?” A voice behind him snaps Eddie from his pity party, and he feels its owner take a seat on the booth. He didn’t think so, but when he looks around the booth he realizes all of his company has disappeared into the dark of the bar.

“Yeah, guess I am.”

“Why is that?” She leans in, resting her cheek in her hand as she stares dreamily into his eyes. He’s trying to focus on her face, her voice, the woman in front of him, but he keeps glancing at the television over her shoulder. She takes notice, and follows his eyes to the screen, where you’re burning a pile of what he can assume is your ex’s belongings, makeup bleeding down your cheeks, far more exaggerated than he’d seen on your face before, but not entirely unlikely.

“You like ‘em?”

“What?” His eyes snap back to where Kathleen observed him.

“Death Dance? You like ‘em?” He doesn’t have an answer to that. “I think they’re cool,” she muses. “Y/n is a rockstar.”

He scoffs despite himself. “Yeah, you could say that.”

She cocks an eyebrow at him. “What’s that mean?”

“Nothin’, long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

present day

He stops, finally looking to where you sit to find you’ve stood up. You stare over him, arms crossed over your chest. “What did you tell her?” You sound almost nervous.

“I told her about us. I don’t know why she listened, or why she agreed to leave with me. She let me talk the whole time, and I don’t know if she cared or if she just pitied me, but it was nice. It felt good to talk. I hadn’t talked to anyone about it in so long.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “This is so fucking stupid.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I had no-“

“No, stop. I’m not mad at you. Most of those pictures are me anyway, Eddie. These assholes can’t just mind their own business.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to be quizzical. “What do you suppose we do about that, then?”

Your POV

You bite your bottom lip in thought. “We could, I dunno, ignore it?”

Eddie snorts, but his smile fades when he sees you’re serious. “Baby, I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t even remember them taking that picture.”

“That doesn’t really mean much, Eds. You were wasted.”

“Touché.” He grumbles. “But still, I think we should just. Ugh,” He doesn’t want to tell you what he’s thinking, but you wait. You have an idea of what he’s going to suggest. “I think we should embrace it. We’re together, right? In any other scenario, I’d be showin’ you off to anyone that would let me. Why should it be any different now?”

You look at him, study his expression with an unwavering stare. There is no hint of ulterior motive, no desperate urge to make you uncomfortable. He’s the Eddie you’d met six years ago, the one you’d fallen head over heels in love with instantly; just a nerdy metalhead with a huge heart. You can feel your guard crumbling, brick walls demolished, and Eddie’s swinging the wrecking ball. “If you want, of course. We can think of something else, though.” He adds, waving his hands anxiously.

“I want to. I’m so tired of this shit, letting these fuckers harass us. I want to be able to exist without feeling like I’m being watched.”

Eddie’s deep in thought, face scrunched, lips pressed together. “Okay,” He says finally, the pieces connecting in his head. “I have an idea.”

Eddie’s POV

“You think this is gonna work?” You lean against the bedroom door frame as Eddie dawns one of your father’s old baseball caps.

He grins, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Are you doubting my ability to play tricks?”

You giggle, and Eddie feels his face ache from smiling. “Of course not! But these leeches twist everything to fit a made up narrative that people eat up without question!”

“Which is exactly why we’ll give them something so cliche they won’t be able to help themselves.” He’s comparing different pairs of your sunglasses next to his face. “And then, they’ll get bored and move on.”

“I dunno, that last part seems unlikely.”

Eddie frowns, turning to face you. “We don’t have to do this, y’know.”

You sigh, pushing off the doorframe to approach him. You smell like lemon and lavender, and Eddie wants to bury his face in your neck. He resists, though, clearing his throat

“No, I want to. They won’t leave us alone either way. Might as well have some fun with it.” You hand Eddie the sunglasses with rounder frames. “These ones. They look like Ozzy’s.”

“God, I love you.”

—

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @potatobeanpie @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc @veemoon | send a message to be added taglist for this fic is closed!

#st #fics #munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #gnc!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #angst #slow burn #fluff #stranger things #fd #new kid fic #90s au #fanfic

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lordgreenslimemold · 6 months ago

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my idea of a saturday night is popping an eddie after work and working on my harry dubois minecraft mural while watching fd signifier's new 3 1/2 hour hip hop video essay

#i think i have a parasocial relationship with this dude that stems from having an autistic father #looking back on memories one of the ways we'd show love is by just fuckin infodumping to each other #and listening to each other talk about a thing we're not much into ourselves but we like to learn about different things #and i've dipped my toes into hip hop behavior im no stranger to the genre especially because of my personal interest in spoken word poetry #but its never been a huge interest of mine #especially outside of the music/in the culture #so listening to fd signifier basically be nerdy about it for 3.5 hours is like shortcut to dopamine because #those neural pathways were carved a longtime ago with my very own memories #i am so very high #highposting #f.d. signifier #hdb

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artonice · 7 months ago

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Am I delulu?

Anyways... seriously y'all. I started publicly sharing B/V stuff in March. I'm just a girly from Boston who is obsessed with ice dance and the athletic, emotional moments it creates. I also enjoy its connection to art. Their 2023 FD reminds me so much of the above painting. I like to post comparisons and Kiki with the girls. Ice dance slays so hard bc I've never seen anything like it before! I really earnestly just enjoy all of the mechanics.

The dedication, the performance. Y'all caught me vicariously living, babes! We all wish we could've been something like a ballerina or an ice skater. Seeing Bella skate, inspires me to do the things that little me dreamed of. Still! Which I enjoy just as equally. Because everyone seems so grumpy all the time and I love having something to cheer for and believe in. I've competed for 2 bike races since following Bella. Because I'm rooting for someone who does cool stuff and think, wait I can do cool stuff too. And the duo for sure inspires me to paint and write and listen to good music and all that other important stuff. Like a good tv show or my favorite book would.

But this is my crutch, y'all. These are very real people. Celebrity and influencer culture makes us depersonalize the figures sharing their lives. I can def see how I get lost in the delulu of their skating story, and Bella's underdog lore (which is mainly why I'm here y'all). I know it's still a risk that skaters can see this post, but I just wanna yap to no one about how weird the modern world is. And I think Tumblr is probably the most private place out of all socials to yap anyways.

So, my point. I feel weird! I feel so weird making edits and talking about how inspired I am by these strangers, especially when the inspiring strangers can see😭. Bella follows my insta account (as well as a bunch of others) bc she's a cool and connective girl broooo like Bella pls don't unfollow girly I'm just saying I don't wanna freak anyone out 😭🫶. Cause I couldn't imagine all these people being so focused on my life and what I do, it might stress me out bad yall.

I know I'm delulu, but more so I'm sensitive. That's why I like this sport. And I like to chit chat!!! Combined with this hyper digital, often fantasy focused world we live in (movies, tv, sports, books) I don't want to be confused with some crazy person who can't decipher boundaries bc I run an active stan account. And no hate to my fellow Stan accounts, this scenario feels unique bc ice skating fan accounts have audiences that often include people in the skater's communities or families, if not the skater themselves. It's not like I'm posting about Taylor Swift who won't see it. Girl, my T-swift is 5'ft tall and can jump 6ft high in the air. Her Eras Tour starts in Lake Placid this July😭. And you bet your ass I need to talk about it!

But I also gotta remind myself that this isn't my favorite TV show but people's real lives. Like fr. Sometimes the competition is so good you'd think it was scripted, y'all. God, like let me keep yapping forever huh?

Anyways, I am so glad I get to connect with my favorite athlete, as I'm sure her other fans appreciate it too. She's honest and open to chat for a reason, it keeps us feeling like we are on the road to the Olympics with her. I'm gunna keep posting cause I love the idea of turning all of booktok on her lore and getting a million people to root for them so I can see them at freaking SKAM 🤨. The conversation between influencer and audience is just hella interesting. And I hope I'm towing the line okay!

#influencer #phylosophy #I #just like seeing my team win

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dancingsunflowers-ocs · 2 years ago

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𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙊𝘾 ✸ 𝘈𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦 𝘉𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘺

Annette is Robin's older sister, making her one year older than Steve "The Hair" Harrington. She thought he was cute in school, and despite her usual confidence around the people that she liked, she never did anything about her little crush because he was younger than her. Annette is kind and talkative like her sister but not as awkward or clumsy. She is sure of herself and who she is, and she is trying to help Robin feel the same way. So when she comes back from her first year of college she decides to get a job working at Scoops Ahoy! with her sister.....and Steve Harrington.

G͏E͏N͏E͏R͏A͏L͏ I͏N͏F͏O͏R͏M͏A͏T͏I͏O͏N͏:

F͏u͏l͏l͏ N͏a͏m͏e͏: A͏n͏n͏e͏t͏t͏e͏ L͏o͏r͏r͏a͏i͏n͏e͏ B͏u͏c͏k͏l͏e͏y͏

A͏l͏i͏a͏s͏: A͏n͏n͏e͏, A͏n͏n͏i͏e͏, N͏e͏t͏t͏i͏

S͏e͏r͏i͏e͏s͏: C͏h͏e͏r͏r͏y͏ B͏o͏m͏b͏

L͏o͏v͏e͏ i͏n͏t͏e͏r͏e͏s͏t͏: S͏t͏e͏v͏e͏ H͏a͏r͏r͏i͏n͏g͏t͏o͏n͏

A͏g͏e͏: 20

S͏e͏x͏u͏a͏l͏i͏t͏y͏: B͏i͏c͏u͏r͏i͏o͏u͏s͏, G͏r͏e͏y͏s͏e͏x͏u͏a͏l͏

P͏r͏o͏n͏o͏u͏n͏s͏: S͏h͏e͏/h͏e͏r͏

O͏c͏c͏u͏p͏a͏t͏i͏o͏n͏: S͏c͏o͏o͏p͏s͏ A͏h͏o͏y͏ e͏m͏p͏l͏o͏y͏e͏e͏

F͏a͏m͏i͏l͏y͏: M͏i͏n͏e͏r͏v͏a͏ (g͏r͏a͏n͏d͏m͏o͏t͏h͏e͏r͏), R͏i͏c͏h͏a͏r͏d͏ B͏u͏c͏k͏l͏e͏y͏ (f͏a͏t͏h͏e͏r͏), M͏e͏l͏i͏s͏s͏a͏ B͏u͏c͏k͏l͏e͏y͏ (m͏o͏t͏h͏e͏r͏), R͏o͏b͏i͏n͏ B͏u͏c͏k͏l͏e͏y͏ (y͏o͏u͏n͏g͏e͏r͏ s͏i͏s͏t͏e͏r͏)

A͏P͏P͏E͏A͏R͏A͏N͏C͏E͏:

E͏t͏h͏n͏i͏c͏i͏t͏y͏: W͏h͏i͏t͏e͏

N͏a͏t͏i͏o͏n͏a͏l͏i͏t͏y͏: A͏m͏e͏r͏i͏c͏a͏n͏

S͏p͏e͏c͏i͏e͏s͏: H͏u͏m͏a͏n͏

F͏a͏c͏e͏c͏l͏a͏i͏m͏: L͏i͏a͏n͏a͏ L͏i͏b͏e͏r͏a͏t͏o͏

H͏a͏i͏r͏ C͏o͏l͏o͏u͏r͏: L͏i͏g͏h͏t͏ B͏r͏o͏w͏n͏

E͏y͏e͏ C͏o͏l͏o͏u͏r͏: B͏l͏u͏e͏

P͏E͏R͏S͏O͏N͏A͏L͏I͏T͏Y͏:

Q͏u͏a͏l͏i͏t͏i͏e͏s͏: I͏n͏d͏e͏p͏e͏n͏d͏e͏n͏t͏. T͏a͏l͏k͏a͏t͏i͏v͏e͏. K͏i͏n͏d͏. F͏r͏i͏e͏n͏d͏l͏y͏. C͏o͏n͏f͏i͏d͏a͏n͏t͏. P͏i͏g͏-H͏e͏a͏d͏e͏d͏. N͏e͏r͏d͏y͏. W͏i͏t͏t͏y͏. S͏m͏a͏r͏t͏.

M͏o͏r͏a͏l͏ A͏l͏i͏g͏n͏m͏e͏n͏t͏: L͏a͏w͏f͏u͏l͏ G͏o͏o͏d͏

M͏y͏e͏r͏s͏ B͏r͏i͏g͏g͏s͏ T͏y͏p͏e͏: ESTP

H͏o͏g͏w͏a͏r͏t͏s͏ H͏o͏u͏s͏e͏: G͏r͏y͏f͏f͏i͏n͏d͏o͏r͏

L͏I͏K͏E͏S͏:

↳ r͏e͏a͏d͏i͏n͏g͏ m͏u͏r͏d͏e͏r͏ m͏y͏s͏t͏e͏r͏y͏ n͏o͏v͏e͏l͏s͏ (e͏s͏p͏e͏c͏i͏a͏l͏l͏y͏ A͏g͏a͏t͏h͏a͏ C͏h͏r͏i͏s͏t͏i͏e͏)

↳ p͏o͏p͏ a͏n͏d͏ r͏o͏c͏k͏ m͏u͏s͏i͏c͏ (e͏s͏p͏e͏c͏i͏a͏l͏l͏y͏ D͏u͏r͏a͏n͏ D͏u͏r͏a͏n͏, F͏l͏e͏e͏t͏w͏o͏o͏d͏ M͏a͏c͏ & T͏h͏e͏ B͏e͏a͏t͏l͏e͏s͏)

↳ l͏o͏v͏e͏s͏ p͏i͏g͏s͏ a͏n͏d͏ e͏l͏e͏p͏h͏a͏n͏t͏s͏

↳ m͏u͏s͏e͏u͏m͏s͏

↳ w͏r͏i͏t͏i͏n͏g͏ m͏y͏s͏t͏e͏r͏y͏ s͏t͏o͏r͏i͏e͏s͏

↳ b͏l͏u͏e͏b͏e͏r͏r͏y͏ p͏a͏n͏c͏a͏k͏e͏s͏

↳ f͏i͏l͏m͏s͏ a͏n͏d͏ m͏o͏v͏i͏e͏s͏

↳ p͏i͏n͏e͏a͏p͏p͏l͏e͏ o͏n͏ h͏e͏r͏ p͏i͏z͏z͏a͏