#fd:: stranger things

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XXV: Just Once, He Talked Back

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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!

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—

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!

[dancingsunflowers-ocs]

𝙊𝘾 𝙃𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙊𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙉 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙂𝙀 2023: 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘛𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘕𝘪𝘯𝘦: 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘉𝘦 𝘜𝘴

Love isn’t in the air but maybe it’s in the fabric of costumes! It’s time for couples costumes!

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝘼𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚 𝘽𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙮 ✸ 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘑𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘹 𝘋𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘯𝘦 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘬𝘦

✨ Taglist: @carmens-garden@eddysocs@faerieroyal@daughter-of-melpomene@megandaisy99@misshiraethsworld @arrthurpendragon ✨

[lordgreenslimemold]

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

[arrthurpendragon]

OC Halloween Couples Aesthetic Giveaway (4/15) - @buckleysbitch

[oneirataxia-girl]

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS: DREAMMYRTLE & BUCKLAN

aphrodite of the olympians/morpheus of the endless = myrtles, roses, poppies & forget-me-nots -- morpheus was the first to call aphrodite myrtle (albeit as an insult), rose for symbol for love of the olympians, poppy was what aphrodite called him in return due to its association with sleep and imagination, and forget-me-not being the flower aphrodite gave morpheus the first time she gifted flowers to the seven endless (and the last for a long time)

robin buckley/wren bulan = sweet peas, tulips, camellias & carnations -- sweet pea as the flowers robin laid on wren's memorial, a tulip the way robin confessed to wren, camellia the flowers wren brings robin on their first actual date because those were the only ones in her garden, and carnation for the flowers wren's mother (and by extension wren) liked most

part of the 2023 oc valentines challenge: day 6

the enabler's call: @arrthurpendragon@misshiraeth98@carmens-garden@nightmaresart- want to be added? shoot me an ask!

coloring: here!

[purpleyearning]

Jonathan and Nancy would never last if it weren’t for Upside Down things happening at least once a year and the show has consistently proved that.

[enchanted--roses]

Gift exchange for @carmens-garden

Oc: Carmen Bauman

Hope you like it! 

Forever Tag: 💠@fiercefray​ 💠 @foxesandmagic 💠 @valdrinors​ 💠@ochub​ 💠@ocappreciationtag​   💠 @fanficanatic-tw​ 💠@robertdowneyhiddlesbatch   💠 @chickensarentcheap ​ (wanna be on any of my taglist? ask me!)

[eddies-munsonmoved]

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.”

PREV: here

READ ON: ao3 ✰   wattpad  ✰   ff.net ✰   quotev

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.”

[eddies-munson]

do you think you’re better everyday? / dealer’s choice pt. 1

pairing: eddie munson/oc (cynthia moose) fandom: stranger things wc: 2.8k note: this is me missing them and providing context/backstory to their relationship (i just love them)

"There's always Eddie Munson, Tommy buys from him." Steve shrugged, taking a glance at the clock.

A confused look washed over the girl's face, "Eddie? Like, the D&D guy? He sells drugs?"

or 5 times Eddie and Cynthia got to know each other in the gloomy town of Hawkins

READ ON: ao3 ✰   wattpad  ✰   ff.net ✰   quotev

February 1984, Hawkins High School

Cynthia pushed in the doors of Hawkins High with more of a kick in her step than she’d had in the last three months, but the almost elated feeling she had left her as she got nearer to her group of friends. Friends she had almost neglected since her dad went missing back in November. They tried to stay around in the midst of the girl's grief but they could only do so much, they were just kids.

The conversation almost seemed to die as she gathered herself into the circle, “Hey guys.”

“Hi, Cynthia.” Nancy greeted, a kind smile as she was the only one to say hi.

Carol was the next one to greet her, pulling her into a tight hug, arms hanging over the taller girls' shoulders as she squeezed her, “Good to see you, Cyn.”

Cynthia gave a tired smile, Carol’s sweet perfume overloaded her senses, “you too, Care.”

The redhead pulled back, and took Cynthia’s chin in her well manicured hand, “we gotta get some make-up on you. You’re looking gloomy.”

“I got second period free.” She responded, forcing a laugh.

Carol let go with a pat to the cheek, “holding you to that.”

Nodding, she changed the subject, not liking everyone’s eyes on her, waiting for her to say something sad or start crying. “Steve, can I talk to you real quick?”

Steve looked shocked, running a hand through his hair, “sure.”

She nodded to the vacated classroom next to them. Ms. O’Donnell didn’t have a class first period and left her door unlocked.

“How’ve you been? Tim said you got picked up by Hopper.” Steve asked as he flicked on the lights and leaned back against the wall, mirroring Cynthia as she leaned against the empty chalkboard.

“Doing better,” she laughed, “I took off from home for a couple days and my mom didn’t like that. It’s whatever.”

He nodded, not really knowing how to respond to that. “So what’s going on?”

“Do you know where I could get some weed?”

“I buy from Pinelli, I could put a word in for you.”

"Steve, look me in the eyes and tell me one good reason that I wouldn't want to buy from Bull Pinelli." Cynthia rolled her eyes at the mention of her ex and Steve remembered as soon as she spoke.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I forgot you guys used to--"

"Yeah. Wish I could." She laughed dryly.

"There's always Eddie Munson, Tommy buys from him." Steve shrugged, taking a glance at the clock.

A confused look washed over the girl's face, "Eddie? Like, the D&D guy? He sells drugs?"

"I guess. Talk to Tommy."

“Okay,” Cynthia sighed, opening the door, “thanks anyways, Steve.”

The taller boy pushed past her, giving her a nod and comforting pat on the shoulder as he walked out, bell ringing as he did so.

✰ ✰ ✰

Carol’s hand was once again on Cynthia’s chin as she held her still while spreading eye shadow across her lid.

“Yo, Tommy, if I gave you some money could you do me a solid?” Cynthia asked, glancing over at the boy who wasn’t interested at all in what the pair of girls were doing but wanted to skip class.

“Depends, what do you want?” He reached forward into the pile of Juicy Fruit next to his girlfriend.

Carol sat back with a hum, finishing up with the pink shadow as Cynthia shrugged, “you get bags from Eddie Munson, don’t you?”

“The freak?” Tommy popped the gum into his mouth and rolled the wrapper up before throwing it at his girlfriend. “Yeah, you know I don’t fuck with Pinelli.”

“Yeah. Could you get me one? I’ve been smoking with Tim but he’s quitting because of wrestling or whatever. I have twenty bucks.”

✰ ✰ ✰

Tommy Hagan started regretting telling Cynthia yes as he pulled into the Palace Arcade parking lot, spotting Eddie’s shitty van. “Fuck it.” He sighed, turning his car off and walking inside the building, sneering at the younger kids that ran past him as he looked around for the drug dealer.

He finally spotted him with his nerd friends at the furthest corner, huddled around a couple of pinball machines, “Hey, Munson.” He called out, approaching the group of four.

Eddie turned his attention to the boy calling his name, “Hagan. You’re too slow, I closed up shop ‘bout an hour ago.” He already knew what the freckled boy wanted, it was the only reason he associated with him. It was kind of fun to watch him squirm in a ‘nerd’ environment.

“C’mon man, it’s Friday.”

Nodding his head towards the back exit of the building, Eddie grabbed his tin box from the floor and followed the jock outside.

“How much? The usual?”

Tommy slid his hands into his jacket pocket, fiddling with the extra twenty in his hand, “Two.”

Eddie paused, giving a confused look to the boy next to him, “Who you buyin’ for?”

“A friend of mine.” Tommy straightened up, hoping that puffing his chest a little bit would make him not question him more.

“Which friend?” He closed his box back up as a threat.

He debated with himself on whether or not to tell Eddie that he was buying for Cynthia. Tommy didn’t know how his drug dealer was with girls and if he had any weirdo vibes, he didn’t want to send it Cynthia’s way.

“Moose.” He replied with a shrug, hoping to leave it at that.

“Alright. Forty bucks.” Eddie backed down, messing with the black box once again.

March 1984, Hawkins High School

This went on for almost two months. Every other week Cynthia would waltz up to Tommy, and hand him twenty bucks with a smile and he would come back to school the next day and slip a baggie into her backpack at the end of their shared class, seventh period Algebra. Until Eddie told him this last time that he wanted to meet Moose with an almost uncharacteristic seriousness to him.

Tommy slid onto the seat next to his girlfriend and slid the bill into Cynthia’s open hand as she was gesturing while in conversation with Carol. “Bad news,” he greeted.

“What?” Cynthia replied, slipping the money into her flannel's chest pocket, displeasure washing over her face.

“Munson wants to meet you, said he’s ‘over the middle-man shit.’”

“Can’t blame him.” Carol chimed in, slapping Tommy’s hand away from her lunch tray. “He probably thinks you’re up-charging some poor freshman.”

“Fuck.” She groaned, rubbing a hand over her face, “What did you tell him?”

“I said yes, obviously.”

"Shit, alright.

✰ ✰ ✰

Three hours later, right after the last bell rang, Cynthia made her way past the old soccer field, a trail to an old picnic clearing that hadn’t been used by students regularly since before she got to the high school.

“You two really gonna wait for me or ditch as soon as I get in those woods?” She turned to Carol and Tommy sitting on the old bleachers.

“We’re waiting, scout’s honor.” Tommy waved her off.

Rolling her eyes, “‘Cause that means so much coming from you.”

“I can leave.” He wouldn't actually leave, he doesn't trust Munson.

“Please don’t,” she surrendered. “I’m sorry.”

Before she could turn around and finally go to the clearing, Carol spoke up, “Cyn? Try not to charm the pants off this one. You’re oh and one.”

“What the fuck, dude?”

“Just saying.” She shrugged, pushing a piece of gum into her mouth.

✰ ✰ ✰

Eddie came out not too long after, box in hand as he parted ways with his bandmates. Spotting Tommy Hagan with his girlfriend, he got nervous, what if this was some kind of set-up. Keeping a brave face, he nodded at the pair and continued his walk to the clearing.

He spotted a girl with long, dark brown almost black hair sitting on the table with her back to him and he started to feel even more suspicious.

Hearing footsteps on the leaves behind her, Cynthia turned around and spotted Eddie Munson, “Hey, what’s up?”

Eddie walked closer, slowly, before asking “You Moose?”

She replied with a laugh, “That’s what Tommy’s callin’ me? Damn. Yeah.”

He lightened up and sat down on the same side of the table as her feet were. He felt kind of dumb now, he completely expected Moose to be some big ass jock, not her.

“So, why?” He asked, folding his hands on the table, but not meeting her gaze.

“Why what?” She asked jokingly as she scooched down onto the seat next to him. She shrugged, “I don’t know, it was easier. I haven’t exactly been in the right headspace to deal with new people and it’s easy enough to have Tommy do things.”

Eddie hummed, accepting the answer. He could feel her start getting anxious as he kept quiet. Now that he knew Moose wasn’t some nickname for a dude on the football or wrestling team, he started piecing together how he knew her name. “Is your dad Lionel Moose? The cop?”

Cynthia drew lines in the dirt as she kicked her leg back and forth, “Yeah, he retired a year, year and a half ago.” Her mouth went dry as she started waiting for the inevitable next question.

“Oh.” Eddie nodded, tapping the black box on his side, “and how is he doing?”

“Um,” Cynthia swallowed, trying to keep her composure in front of the drug dealer, “he, uh–.” She wiped a hand over her face, trying to keep hair out of her eyes, “he’s presumably retired. From, from life.”

“Shit.” He mumbled to himself, instantly regretting the small talk, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

Sniffling out a response, “you’re good. It’s fine. I’m mostly normal about it now.”

“No, man. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Eddie responded, pulling his box onto the table and opening it. “How about this: I cut you a deal this time. Fifteen bucks for your half.”

Cynthia chuckled, “Is it that easy to get a discount? I just gotta put on the waterworks for ya?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, meeting her gaze with a smirk, “Just this once, Moose.”

“Sure.” She responded, digging in her pocket and handing him her twenty.

August 1984, Bradley’s Big Buy

Cynthia didn’t want to admit to herself that she was avoiding Eddie Munson, she also refused to admit that she may have had a crush on the guy.

Not like it was embarrassing to have a crush, he was cute and nice to her which she felt that’s just how he was. But she definitely thought it would’ve gone away when she left Hawkins for just over a month to go to camp. It didn’t. Now she was avoiding the guy.

She told her friends that she wanted to finish out the summer sober (a minute lie). Ready to get back on the cheer team, the coach was going to let her back on despite being held back as long as she didn’t get into more trouble.

But here she was, working at the grocery store, stocking shelves, actively avoiding Eddie Munson since he was at the store with a couple of his friends. It looked like they were gearing up for a party, but Cameron, a close friend and co-worker, informed her it was likely they were getting ready for a D&D campaign.

“Holy shit. Moose, is that you?” Fuck. There he was.

Cam snickered and told her to go talk to him and Cynthia obliged with a quick huff.

“Hey, man, what’s goin on?” She approached him with a friendly smile.

“Not much,” He laid his hands in the pockets of his jean shorts. “Are you ignoring me?”

“I was out of town.” She informed, mirroring his current mannerisms. “Took my sister to camp.”

“Okay, because a little birdie told me you were avoiding me.”

Cynthia shook her head, feeling heat coming up her neck, “That birdie wouldn’t happen to be standing right behind me?”

Eddie laughed, eyes darting to Cameron, pretending to stock shelves as she kept a close eye on the pair. “The birdie is actually at the front, he’s ringing up Jeff.”

She took the opportunity to change the subject, “I thought you and Tim hated each other.”

“Yeah?” He shrugged, it was mildly true. “I know he’s one of your buddies, so I asked.”

“About me?” Cynthia turned the smug mood around on him, “did you miss me, Munson?”

The taller boy didn’t have a response for that, he just shook his head with a smile, “I gotta go, see you around.”

October 1984, Mevald’s General Store

Cynthia looked up from her position at the register and saw Eddie outside, he gave her a wave and she nodded back and pointed to the back door, hoping he’d get the hint and meet her in the alley. As soon as he gave a thumbs up, she called out, “Hey, Joyce? I’m gonna take my break real quick.”

“Okay, go ahead.” Joyce responded from the store room, where she disappeared with Bob Newby just five minutes ago..

She exited the building into the alleyway and leaned against the bricks, waiting for Eddie as she patted her pockets down, looking for her cigarettes.

Eddie walked up to her quietly, “Hey, Moose.”

“Hi. You got a light?” There was a stick hanging between her lips and she couldn’t find her lighter, probably left it in her car.

“Yeah.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a plain white BIC, before lighting her cigarette

“Those new?” She was taken aback, changing the subject, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush on her cheeks.

“What?” He lit his own cigarette, putting the lighter back in his pocket.

“The bats.” She gestured to his right arm.

“Oh. Yeah, got ‘em done about a week ago.”

“Sick.”

“You got any?”

She shook her head, taking a drag, “Want one, don’t know what.”

Eddie got a playfully evil grin on his face, “I could give you one.”

Cynthia laughed, smoke coming out of her nose. “I think you’re cool as fuck, Munson. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you near me with a tattoo gun.”

He gave her what could’ve been puppy dogs eyes, “I can do stink-n-poke.”

“That’s so much worse.”

Laughing, it was his turn to change the subject, “So what’d you want?”

“An ounce.” Moose muttered, tapping the ashes off the cigarette between her fingers.

“Damn, Cheech, big occasion?”

She laughed at the reference, “Um, kinda, I’m heading to a party tonight and Cam tasked me with bringing the weed, so.”

“Who’s party?”

“Tina’s.” She replied.

Eddie mostly zoned out as Cynthia continued talking, trying to remember who Tina was. When he looked back down at the shorter girl, she was looking at him expectantly. “What?”

She laughed, before taking another drag and asked, “Do you want to come get sheet-faced tonight? More the merrier.”

He almost obliged as he looked at her, her eyes almost sparkling as she asked the question. “I don’t think so, Moose. Not my crowd.”

 “Okay.” She almost seemed disappointed? “Well, I get out of here at five, so could you meet me at my place on Cherry Lane later?”

✰ ✰ ✰

7:28pm. Eddie rolled up to Cynthia’s house, a big brown house with a blue wagon out front. Walking up to the front door, he kept his black tin box in his left hand as knocked with his right.

“Come in.” A woman’s voice called out from behind the door.

He entered the home and saw a bowl of Halloween candy sitting on the ledge next to the door, he started looking through, wanting to take one.

“Oh, it’s you.” Cynthia peeked around the corner, a smile on her face, it looked like she was dressed up for the holiday. “Gimme a sec.”

Finally picking out a couple of candies, Three Musketeers and a Snickers, he watched as she came back into the main room, “nice dress.”

She was wearing a lacy button up shirt and a long, almost bubblegum pink skirt, “thanks,” she responded with a smile before holding out a bill for him.

“I didn’t bring any change.” Eddie said as he watched her walk into the living room to turn off the television, checking out the fifty dollar bill between his fingers.

“Keep the change,” she waved him off while approaching him at the entranceway of the house. “I know it’s a hell of a drive from Forest Hills, especially with all the Trick-or-Treaters.”

“Shit, alright. Thanks.” He reached into the box and pulled out a larger baggie and handed it to the girl, “It’s two different kinds, I have to make a run soon.”

“Cool.” She slid the bag into her purse that matched the skirt almost exactly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

PART TWO

[ocappreciation]

ocappreciation + 2022 oc gift exchange ☃

↳ to: @connietheecunning → from: @waterloou

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

prev chapter | masterlist | playlist | pinboard

Chapter XXIII: I Just Might Give My Heart

a/n: thank u for ur patience as i overcome the dreaded plague to continue writing this godforsaken fic. The first leg is officially OVER. so much has happened, and so much time has passed between chapters i could barely recap what’s gone on. thank you for sticking it out with me, we’re almost at the end now. kinda. who knows what that means when it’s me talking, i clearly can’t keep my word on anything.

tags/cw: angst per us, fluff, eddie x gn!afab!reader, pining, tears, idiots in love, soulmates, blah blah blah we love a happy chapter! swearing, bff!steve, bff!robin, these two can’t do shit on their own apparently. use of y/n but you know that by now.

—-

August 1990

Eddie’s POV

He slams the third bottle down on the counter, over which Steve is leaning, a disappointed glare directed at Eddie. “It’s been a month. Go fix it. Or don’t, but you gotta quit doing whatever this is.” Eddie doesn’t answer, only rolls his eyes as he wordlessly beckons for another beer.

“There’s nothing to fix, Steve. It’s over. For real this time, I swear.”

“And that’s what you want?”

Of course it’s not. He’s never wanted this, to watch as if from outside his body as he breaks your heart, leaving you alone and sobbing as he drunkenly drives away from everything you’d built together. But that’s what he’d chosen to do. He chose the life of a washed up rockstar over being with the one person he could trust with his life. Now he’s stuck obeying his label, his rabid fans, letting them drain his energy from his skin while you’re out there, gluing yourself back together when he should be the one picking up the pieces. He fucked up, bad, and there’s no way he’ll ever earn that second chance with you now. All he can do is drink to numb that pain, to maybe forget that realization that you’re gone. That he’ll never get to call you his again.

___

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

”Casanova!” Eddie rolls his eyes at the sound of Robin’s voice, “Wait up, dweeb!” She jogs to catch up to where he loads the trailer with his amps, pretending fruitlessly that he is deaf, ignoring her calls completely. She refuses to play along, though, still yapping into his already ringing ears. “Listen. I know we haven’t been, like, on the best terms. I’m sure you can understand why. But we’re all gonna go to the beach tonight. Hit the arcades, grab some food. I hope you come- ah,” She bites her lip, trying not to snicker at her choice of words. “I hope you decide to hang. Both of you.”

Eddie nods curtly, lips pressed tightly together. He can barely look at her, your best friend, that he pretty much made an unwilling third party only hours ago.

“I’ll do my best.”

She rolls her eyes, making no effort to hide her annoyance. “C’mon! It’ll be fun! It’ll be like we’re back-“

”Back what, Robin? Back in Hawkins?” He doesn’t mean to spit so much venom with his response, but in his defense, she of all people should be able to understand his reluctance.

“No, stupid. Back to normal. Being friends, no worries about fame, that shit. No need to be a dick about it.” Her lighthearted tone carries a slight edge, slicing Eddie with her words. “I’m sure Y/n would appreciate a semblance of normal.”

He rolls his eyes again, irritated at her use of you to convince him, knowing it will work. He will bend at every whim for you. Every time he blinks, he gets a flash of this morning. The sweat on your skin, your whimpers in his ear.

“Dingus!” Robin snaps him back to the present. “Good god, could you be any more pathetic?”

Luckily, he is saved from answering that question. “Munson!” Jeff calls from the steps of the bus. “Cmon, man! Those waves aren’t gonna surf themselves!”

—

Your POV

“Were you, um-“ Steve hesitates, evading your eyes as he saunters forward, head hanging like a shy child.

“Steve,” You start, prepared to ramble a pathetic excuse for why you can’t talk about it.

“Never mind, never mind. Just, y’know,”

“Yeah,” you scoff, shoving yourself into the booth as the driver pulls away from another hotel parking lot. “You worry, I get it.” You pick at your nails, the skin around your cuticles fraying like an old sweater.

“Only because you keep giving me reasons to.” There’s a softness in his scolding, the ghost of a smirk on his sweet face. Poor, sweet Steve. Your best friend, after everything. And you’ve been sending him into cardiac arrest these last six weeks. “I’m sorry, I know you want your privacy from everything. You can trust me. I have no reason to share any of it with the label. I just wanna make sure you’re both alright.”

You nod, shaking your head frantically, trying to shake away the panic. “I told him I love him. I also might have told him about playing Lolla, but I don’t really remember.” You wince, awaiting his reaction, but it doesn’t come. He blinks, face blank, like you’ve only just told him about a book you’ve read. “I give you permission to freak out now.”

He does the last thing you expect from him. Steve bursts into laughter. It’s a bark, a sudden crack in the sound barrier that startles you before you mirror his sounds. Quickly, though, Steve takes a breath to compose himself, ridding the giggles from his belly more quietly, as not to draw attention from the other, crankier passengers. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I promise. It’s just,” He looks for his words on the table before him. “It’s about fuckin’ time, y’know?” His laughter takes over again, and you wipe a tear from your own giggle fit away as you catch your breath. Your cheeks are flushed, heart erratic as you gossip with your friend. That’s all he is right now. Not your manager, not your babysitter. He’s just Steve, and you’re so excited to divulge everything with him.

“How’d it go down? If you wanna tell me, obviously you don’t have t-“

“Of course I want to tell you, dummy. You just have to promise you don’t tell Robin. I don’t care that she knows, but she can’t know I told you all about it before her.” Steve nods in agreement, and you’re off to the races. You tell him how you’d knocked on his door the night before, drunk off your ass. You’d only wanted to tell him about Lollapalooza, you swear. You recall the way he’d looked at you, like he was drinking in your presence, as if you’d been a blessing then, and you let out the one thing you’d wanted to hold onto, at least for a while. You feel yourself blush as you recount the morning after, the way you’d given yourself to Eddie entirely, the relief you’d felt during, and the deep seated worry you feel now. You tell Steve everything, after keeping him in the dark for so long. All the while, he listens as the bus jostles you around, his hand a comforting one in your own. When you finish, you’re breathless, like you’ve just relived the whole thing. Steve only blinks, seemingly digesting it all before he can form a thought.

Finally though, he speaks. “And you expect me not to let any of this slip to Robin?”

You send a half assed slap to his shoulder. “Just for the day, until I get the energy to tell her.” The both of you descend into laughter again.

—

The sun is at its highest point in the sky when you reach the beach. You have no idea what town, what state you’ve all landed in, but the sand is hot and soft under your toes, and the water is a crisp blue to match the cloudless sky. You slide your sunglasses down your nose, and make your way to the dunes.

Behind you, the guys lug the coolers and umbrellas while you and your friends take care of the towels and beach chairs. Eddie is somewhere in the back of your rather large crowd, a boombox on his shoulder. You’re able to find a spot to hold your party further down the beach, and the crew begins to set up the spot like they do the stages every night, in sync with each other without speaking a word. Once they’ve snapped out of laser focus, you spread out your towel near one of the umbrellas, straight across from where Eddie has plopped down his beach chair. You use your sunglasses to your advantage, shamelessly checking out the sight before you. Eddie’s gotten slightly tanner as the summer’s gone on, his shoulders dusted with freckles that remind you of stars, ones you’ve spent hours tracing imaginary constellations on. He shines with sweat in the heavy sun, his shorts riding up on his sticky lotion legs. He’s tied his hair back in a bun to keep it off his neck, and he’s wearing sunglasses that surely must be an homage to Ozzy. Ink litters his arms and torso, pretty pictures you want to ask him about, want to trace with your tongue and lips and teeth.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His voice shatters your inspection, your face blistering and not because of the weather. You compose quickly, though, remembering your camera stuffed inside your tote bag.

“Sure thing!” You chirp, holding the viewfinder to your face. “Say cheese!”

Eddie flips off the camera, a wry smile on his face and you can’t help laughing. “Aw, that wasn’t very nice!”

“I have an image to uphold, doll.” The nickname brings a silence to your group, a quick one, barely noticeable to anyone else. But you sense it. The beat of confusion no ones sure they can ask about.

Gareth comes to the rescue. “Uh, anyone down to surf? Waves look pretty good!”

—

Eddie’s POV

“So,” Jeff paddles his board up to Eddie’s, where he’s straddled as the current bobs him around. “How was your night?” The teasing is palpable.

Eddie speaks through gritted teeth, biting back the biggest smile. “Word travels fast around here, huh?”

“Only when the word is that you two finally got together again!” This time it’s Gareth who speaks, causing Eddie to throw his head back and groan. “Hey, man, we’re happy for ya! Can’t blame us for being excited when we’ve watched you mope about them for a month.” Jeff snorts at the drummer’s comment, and Eddie sends a frustrated splash towards him.

“I hate you both.” He mumbles, absolutely defeated.

“Cmon, man. Give us something!” Gareth is pleading now, pathetically. “At least tell us how it happened!”

Eddie has no choice but to relent. He recounts a summary of the past day and a half, leaving out some minor details to spare his own dignity. By the time he’s finished, his bandmates gawk at him, mouths agape and eyes wide.

“Wait,” Jeff finally says, “So you guys still aren’t together?!” Gareth groans, long and loud, before dramatically falling back on his board, into the water. “You’re a moron!” He exclaims when he comes to the surface, hurling water at Eddie.

“Thanks, man.” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’re happy for you, really, but-“ He stops himself, choosing his next words carefully. “I don't think we can watch this happen again, I know I can’t.” His tone is suddenly somber, gentle. “You either have to commit, or you have to let them go. I’m begging you not to put them— or you— through that again.”

Eddie is caught off guard by his buddy’s sensitivity. Gareth and Jeff aren’t touchy-feely, not the way Steve is, not the way you are. They’re usually rather stoic.

“I didn’t intend to go through it the first time.” He’s chosen defensiveness, ready to board up the door to his feelings for the sake of keeping the peace.

“No one intends to go through that, obviously. But, Ed, seriously. Think about it. You’re working the program, you’re doing really well too. Don’t let this be a reason you throw it all away. If you love them, if you really, really mean it this time, fine. But if I have to watch you break their heart again, I’m leaving the band.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Gareth shakes his head. “Don’t try to find out.”

They stare each other down, both convinced they have all the answers, until Jeff breaks the tension. “That’s the one! That’s the best one all day!” And he’s off, paddling towards the growing waves and leaving his friends to stir.

—

It’s almost sunset when they leave the ocean, retreating to the rest of the group still bathing in the golden hue of the sun. Everyone’s there, talking and drinking, laughing and singing along to Celine Dion’s If You Asked Me To. He snickers at the sight, his mismatched group of friends, people he’d never have expected to ever have a bond with, enjoying their well earned rest. Finally, his eyes land on you. Immersed in your book, a well loved copy of Play It As It Lays, you sit stretched out in your beach chair, skin shiny with sweat and sunscreen, a red bathing suit leaving nothing to the imagination. Your feet are buried beneath the soft sand, and Eddie can see that you’re wiggling your toes. Your sunglasses sit on the bridge of your nose, perched like reading glasses as your eyes scan the page.

He feels a presence next to him before he can see it. “You really shouldn’t stare at people like that. It’s creepy.” Robin has planted herself next to him, speaking low enough so you can’t hear her.

“I wasn’t-“ There’s no point. He’d be lying, anyway. “Ugh, whatever.”

She snorts, returning to her less stealthy self. “Uh huh, exactly. Anyway, what’s your plan, Romeo?”

“My plan?”

She nods. “For your month off. Where in the world will Eddie Munson go next?” He can’t answer, and Robin definitely feels him tense at her question. “Me and Lilith are going to Vermont, I think. They have uh, great syrup there I’ve heard.” She’s steamrolling herself, and it brings the beginning of a smile to Eddie’s face. “You ever been? To Vermont?”

Eddie shrugs. “Can’t say I have.”

“Me either. Me… either.” She looks down at her hands, letting the silence fester until it’s unbearable.

“I might go back home.” He says it quietly, not yet sure if the word fits in his mouth anymore. Home.

“Where’s home?”

At that, he glances up at you. You’ve put your book aside to lounge further, the chair further back, legs outstretched in front of you as your eyes flutter closed. Right there. “Well, not home I guess. To Wayne’s. Spend some time with the old man.”

Robin nods, lips slightly pursed as if she’s questioning his response. She can see right through him.

Luckily, though, he’s saved from explaining anything further. “Who’s up for some arcade games? Boardwalk’s only a ten minute walk from here!” Sylvie shakes their bag of quarters, an attempt at enticing the tired group into physical activity.

It seems to rouse you from your catnap. “I’m in. You, me,” you’re pointing at Eddie. “Air hockey. Loser buys the ice cream.”

“What are we, in high school?” Robin snorts, but her eyes widen when she realizes what she’s said. “I am so sorry.”

You giggle, and Eddie feels his cheeks burn. “No, Buckley, it’s cool, you can play Eddie when he LOSES.” You launch yourself from the beach chair and offer your hands out, one crossed over the other. “You on?”

Eddie and Robin each take one of your hands to shake. It’s a deal.

—

Your POV

The boardwalk was once filled with life, you can see that, but has since been discarded like a candy wrapper. Several bulbs on the overhead signs are out, making it spell out A C A D rather than ARCADE. Despite its exterior, the place is bustling with activity. Unsupervised children and bored teens on vacation bounce from machine to machine, yelling to be heard over the cartoonish sounds of claw machines. Further in, you spot the air hockey table in a corner, unoccupied.

“You ready to get your ass kicked, Munson?” You tease, nudging his side with your elbow before taking a spot at one end of the table.

”I think you mean kissed, L/n.” Eddie winks, slotting a quarter into the machine, triggering the bright lights to flash, the canned sound of the game announcer.

You scoff. “Whatever.” You hand the puck to Robin, who’s standing far too still between the two of you, as if she’s decided to referee. Robin drops the puck in the middle, and it starts slowly gliding off to the side while you and Eddie swing your discs wildly. You gain the upper hand, whacking the puck at Eddie’s goal, missing by inches. You groan when it hits the side, now fully in Eddie’s court. He chuckles, swinging hard to send the puck flying toward you, straight into the thin slot. GOAL! The fuzzy speakers blare with exclamation. You take the puck out, placing it in front of you, waiting for Eddie to stop taunting you.

”C’mon, you have to admit that was pretty sick!” Eddie whines, trying to get a rise out of you.

”Are you done?”

”Oh, not even close, sweetheart.”

You bite back a smile, the tips of your ears burning, and hit the puck on a zigzag, gleefully watching as Eddie’s eyes try to keep up. It goes back and forth for a while before you tie it up, hurling trash talk at each other with no malice. A small crowd has even gathered around the table to watch, and you’re not sure if it’s because they’re fans of yours and Eddie’s, or just really invested in the competition.

Finally, you send the puck flying into the opposite goal one more time, winning the game. You celebrate with a cheer, and jokingly chest bump Robin who rolls her eyes when you clench your tit in your hand, cackling.

—

Eddie’s POV

“I’d like a mint chocolate chip shake, extra thick.” You wink, making sure to swing your hips as you walk away from the table with Steve. You’re barely out of earshot when Robin starts flapping her gums. “What the fuck was that?!”

“What was what?”

She flails, gesturing wildly to Eddie, the direction you’ve walked in, the air hockey table. “All that- that flirting. You think I’m stupid?”

Eddie only scoffs, whacking the puck towards her. This game has far less enthusiasm to it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on! You attracted a crowd with how obnoxious you two were being! What happened this morning?”

Eddie stops the puck under his handle. “That’s none of your business!”

“Please, I can get those gory details from Y/n. I’m talking about the important part, the conversation.”

“There wasn’t a conversation! Just having some fun.”

It’s Robin’s turn to freeze, straightening her posture as if it would convince Eddie to take her seriously. “Don’t you dare start this shit again. You need to get your act together. Today. I swear to God if you break their heart again—“

“Robin, what the fuck are you—“

“Let me finish. Please, for the love of all that is holy, unholy, whatever, talk to them. For real. Before we leave. Or I’ll beat your ass myself. They love you so, so much it’s borderline unhealthy. I can’t watch them fall to pieces again because you can’t grow the balls to tell them what you want.”

“Shouldn’t they also be getting this lecture?”

“No! Because they’re letting you set the pace, asshole! You owe it to them, they shouldn’t have to guess what you want. I promise, if you’re honest, they’ll be more than willing to listen to you. Please, Eddie.” Her eyes are soft, and he melts at her pleas.

“Okay. I will.”

“You better.”

“I promise!”

—

Your POV

“So… what the fuck was that?” Steve inserts a quarter into the skeeball machine, the balls clacking together as they roll down.

“What?” You feign ignorance, rolling a ball down the lane. 20 points. You were never great at skeeball. “Do not play stupid with me, L/n! That man loves you.”

“That doesn’t mean he wants more than what we have.” The humor is gone from your tone, and you can feel your throat catch ever so slightly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, Steve, that love isn’t the only factor in a relationship. There are so many things we’re still missing. The trust, the balance. All that stupid bullshit we can’t seem to figure out.” Steve doesn’t respond, he only watches as you half heartedly toss another ball down the lane. “I don’t know if we’d work together anymore. After everything,” You pause, looking for the right words. Of course you want to try, you’d give it all up to try again. He claims he would, too. But there’s a huge, unspecified roadblock preventing both of you from taking that leap. Like a blocked artery, a wedge that won’t budge no matter how hard you both push.

“You’re a chicken shit.” Steve finally deadpans, causing you to whip around to look at him. There’s no hint of joking in his tone, not the tiniest glimmer of it in his eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a goddamn coward! You both are! Constantly making excuses for not even attempting the real thing. You’ll kiss, hold hands, even sleep together before admitting a goddamn thing to yourselves. I can’t believe neither of you have collapsed from exhaustion.” He rolls a ball, sinking it into the top left hole of the lane. Show off

“Maybe it’s not enough. But what’s stopping you from doing what is? From having that uncomfortable discussion?”

You bite your lip, knowing exactly the thing stopping both of you from having that conversation. Steve’s right, you’re fucking cowards. You’re afraid of fucking it up again, of watching him leave, of losing him the same way you did the first time. You have to wonder if it’s worth it, having bits and pieces of him to avoid losing the whole thing.

Steve checks his watch and huffs. “Well, you better figure it out soon, we leave for the airport in an hour.”

—

Eddie’s POV

“Mint chocolate chip, extra thick.” Eddie hands you the styrofoam cup as he sits next to you on the bench, green ice cream already stuck in the straw.

“Did you have some?” You hold the cup out, straw pointed at him.

“I had to make sure they did it right!”

You snort, taking a sip before resting your head on his shoulder. He rests his own on top of your head, closing his eyes when he hears you sigh through your giggles. As much as he knows how right Robin is, he’d still be okay staying like this forever.

“We should probably talk. Y’know, about this morning.” His voice is low, even though there’s no one around to eavesdrop. You lift your head to look at him, and Eddie swears his heart stops at the sight.

“Probably, yeah.” He nods slowly, praying to whoever will listen that he doesn’t fuck this up.

“I meant it. I wanna make that clear. I love you. I never stopped, I don’t think I ever will.” His voice is even, stern.

“So did I.”

He nods. “I know. But-“

“It’s not enough.” You nod, and he feels his heart stutter and crack before you can let him finish. He knew this was coming.

You shake your head, your short hair swinging as you do. “No. It’s not. That doesn’t mean it can’t be the beginning of something, though?” Your voice raises at the end, like you’re asking him the question. He has to stop himself from jumping from his seat. There’s hope in what you’ve said, even if it’s barely a spark. “If you want to try, I guess. If you want to see where it goes.”

Eddie can’t stop himself, he sets his own milkshake aside to cup your warm face in his cold hands, steadying your head. “I will do whatever it takes to try this again, sweetheart. You are still the best thing that’s ever happened to me, the only person I could ever ask for. If you’re willing, if you’re able to try again, to trust that I won’t let you down again, then who am I to refuse that second chance? Who would I be to give that up a second time? I know I should’ve said something sooner, I know I’ve been awful during this whole thing…” He trails off as your smile widens under his palms, and your eyes grow wet with what he hopes are happy tears. “I couldn’t ask for anything more, Y/n. I know I don’t deserve it-“

You shake your head again, despite his grip. “Stop it. Stop saying you don’t deserve another chance, Eddie. I wouldn’t be willing to try again if you hadn’t shown me you’ve changed. I never stopped loving you, I was waiting for the day we could try this again. More than anything, you are all I’ve wanted. Please, be kinder to yourself.” You say it all through squished cheeks, and he feels them warm under his hands. “I didn’t want to ask, because I couldn’t tell if that’s what you wanted. You’re a huge rockstar now, with plenty of bullshit to deal with. This is gonna be hard, I need to know it’ll be a priority.”

“You are my only priority. You are the only thing that matters to me this much. It took me years being a fucking moron to figure that out, but I got there.” His heart is practically breaking his ribcage with how hard it’s pounding. He can barely believe you’re willing to try again, willing to give such a broken man a second chance at true love. It all feels way too good to be true, but he can’t be bothered enough to shut it down. There will be no other shoe this time.

“In that case, Munson, would you do me the honor of being my love again? Strings attached?”

He doesn’t hesitate, even though he’s fucking terrified. “I never stopped.” He moves his hands back to your face, cupping your cheeks gently as he moves closer to you. Your hands mirror his, holding his face in them as his eyes begin to water. Your smile grows as his tears fall, both of you laughing through them like deranged children.

“Then kiss me like you mean it.” And he does, tugging you forward until his lips meet yours, tears commingling as you wrap your arms around his neck, and his move to wrap around your waist. “I love you”s are mumbled between kisses, never fully letting go of each other regardless of how uncomfortable the bench has become.

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.”

—

next chapter

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @potatobeanpies @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc @veemoon | send a message to be added🫶

[dancingsunflowers-ocs]

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

↳ h͏a͏s͏ a͏ c͏r͏u͏s͏h͏ o͏n͏ M͏i͏c͏h͏a͏e͏l͏ J͏. F͏o͏x͏

↳ c͏h͏e͏r͏r͏y͏ c͏o͏l͏a͏

↳ c͏i͏g͏a͏r͏e͏t͏t͏e͏s͏

↳ a͏r͏t͏ a͏n͏d͏ a͏r͏t͏ c͏l͏a͏s͏s͏e͏s͏

D͏I͏S͏L͏I͏K͏E͏S͏:

↳ p͏e͏o͏p͏l͏e͏ t͏h͏r͏o͏w͏i͏n͏g͏ u͏p͏

↳ h͏e͏a͏v͏y͏ m͏e͏t͏a͏l͏ m͏u͏s͏i͏c͏ (a͏s͏ m͏u͏c͏h͏ t͏o͏ E͏d͏d͏i͏e͏ M͏u͏n͏s͏o͏n͏’s͏ a͏n͏n͏o͏y͏a͏n͏c͏e͏)

↳ s͏h͏a͏r͏k͏s͏ a͏n͏d͏ r͏a͏t͏s͏

↳ s͏n͏o͏b͏s͏

↳ b͏e͏i͏n͏g͏ c͏a͏l͏l͏e͏d͏ c͏h͏i͏c͏k͏

↳ m͏a͏t͏h͏ c͏l͏a͏s͏s͏e͏s͏

↳ c͏o͏r͏n͏y͏ j͏o͏k͏e͏s͏

↳ s͏u͏s͏h͏i͏

✨ Taglist: @eddysocs @megandaisy9 @carmens-garden @arrthurpendragon @misshiraeth98 @daughter-of-melpomene @starlit-epiphany ✨

[dancingsunflowers-ocs]

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?

[arrthurpendragon]

For @foxesandmagic exchange

[oneirataxia-girl]

THE SEVEN TYPES OF LOVE: JIN "EYRE" RAON

EROS = jason carver

PHILIA = jonathan byers

AGAPE = the world

STORGE = eleven hopper + will byers

LUDUS = billy hargrove

PRAGMA = steve harrington + eddie munson

PHILAUTIA = jin "eyre" raon

part of the 2023 oc valentines challenge: day 1

the enabler's call: @arrthurpendragon @misshiraeth98 @carmens-garden - want to be added? shoot me an ask!

coloring: here!

[purpleyearning]

The fundamental truth of Steve Harrington is that he wants to be a housewife more than anything.