#lorraine eddy
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Charlie Chaplin, Gloria Swanson (left) and Marion Davies (right) at a party held at the Ambassador's French Room on October 31, 1928, to celebrate Marion's return from a three-month tour.
Second photo - Marion Davies with Buster Keaton.
In the third photo - Gloria Swanson, Charlie Chaplin, Marion Davies and Harry Crocker.
In the group photo, guests, probably not all, who attended the party - standing, from left to right: Lorraine Eddy, Matt Moore, Aileen Pringle, Louis B. Mayer, Gloria Swanson, Harry D'Arrast, Miss Davies, Louella O. Parsons, Ricardo Cortez, Charlie Chaplin, Norma Shearer, Irving G. Thalberg, Harold Lloyd and Robert Z. Leonard. Seated in the foreground are Harry Crocker, left, and William Haines.
The Ambassador's French Room was transformed into a Parisian café for a surprise party for Miss Davies on 31 October 1928.
On this occasion, heartfelt thanks to the friends of the "Charlie Chaplin for the Ages" group on the Facebook community site, for providing some photos for this post.
#charlie chaplin#lorraine eddy#matt moore#aileen pringle#louis b. mayer#gloria swanson#harry d'arrast#marion davies#louella parsons#ricardo cortez#charles chaplin#norma shearer#irving thalberg#harold lloyd#robert z. leonard#harry crocker#william haines#buster keaton#1928#marion davies' party
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I found this 8 minute documentary that Dance Theatre of Harlem put together about the creation of Creole Giselle.
https://fb.watch/rIsmkx_R7w/?mibextid=w8EBqM
#found that clip of virginia johnson in my drafts and dove down a rabbit hole#dance theater of harlem#creole giselle#giselle#arthur mitchell#virginia johnson#theara ward#augustus van heerden#lorraine graves#eddie shellman#frederic franklin#ballet#dancers#dance#dance videos
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1941 (1979) Steven Spielberg
May 20th 2023
#1941#1979#steven spielberg#dan aykroyd#ned beatty#john belushi#lorraine gary#murray hamilton#christopher lee#tim matheson#toshiro mifune#warren oates#robert stack#treat williams#nancy allen#john candy#elisha cook jr.#eddie deezen#bobby di cicco#dianne kay#perry lang#slim pickens#wendie jo sperber#lionel stander#samuel fuller#mickey rourke#james caan#the night the japs attacked
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Ride the Lightning
Chapter Five: School Daze
Read on AO3!
01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character
Summary: Eddie's begun to notice... something in Veronica that he's never felt before - what will he do?
Word Count: 4.4K
Content Warnings: [N/A]
Author's Note: yes🦇for🦇characters🦇realizing🦇their🦇feelings🦇i🦇live🦇for🦇oblivious🦇to🦇not🦇oblivious🦇romance
otherworldly thank you to @rollforhellfire for reading this -- your comments literally keep me going <333
The heels of Veronica’s patent-leather Mary Janes echoed through the halls of Hawkins High, the droves of students seeming to part way as she moved about them with purpose - she clearly had somewhere to be, someone to speak to. Brushing back one of her braids, she rounded a corner, descended a flight of stairs, her pace quickening as the double-doors of the lunchroom fell within sight. And, tugging at the strap of her bag, she pushed her way inside.
The lunchroom was bustling, as it always was at that time of day, tens upon dozens of students all eager to find something edible among the lunch slop. Looking across the room, she spotted her target - the raucous Hellfire table.
“You can’t cast fireball for every move, dude.” Lucas said, stuffing a forkful of lettuce into his mouth, pointing the plastic thing at Dustin, who was cautiously flipping open what he’d been told was a turkey burger. “Think of something else.”
Dustin scoffed at him, setting his lunch aside in lieu of a carton of chocolate milk. “What, like you have a better idea on how to beat the Drolem?” Looking beside him, he turned to Will for confirmation, and the boy nodded, midway through chewing his tuna sandwich. “See? Fireball’s our best option here.”
“Might I suggest you rethink your strategy, my little sheep?” Eddie’s voice, clear and carrying across the table, silenced the chatter of the youngest among them, and his smile sent a chill coursing through their spines. “Need I remind you that the Drolem is part-dragon?”
“Damn!” Dustin huffed, head falling into his upturned palms. “How could I forget?”
“Told you.” Lucas said with a scoff, shoving a straw into his juice cup. “What we need to do is… uh…” His voice trailed off, eyes widening as he caught sight of a vision of… pink? He nudged Jeff at his side, who was equally - if not more - surprised to see Veronica Windsor at their table, arms crossed over her chest; she gave them all a little wave, her smile shy as she turned to face Eddie.
��Lost your voice, Sinclair?” Eddie asked, his words trailing off into a chuckle as he shoved a handful of pretzels into his mouth, unaware of the table staring behind him. “Pity. You were getting so close-”
“Munson.”
Eddie choked on his pretzels, swallowing what he could, the rest sticking to the inside of his mouth as he all but coughed up his lungs, Gareth slamming his fist against his back to keep him breathing. Face aflame - and only partially so from nearly having lost his life to the snack - Eddie twisted around in his chair, eyes narrowed at Veronica, face set in a scowl.
“Can I help you, Windsor?” he croaked, voice rough as he blinked away the tears blurring his vision. She reached for the back of his chair, pulling it out with more force than he’d expected.
“Get up.” she said, emerald eyes sparkling as they bore into his, making him much too uncomfortable in front of his many admirers. “We need to talk.”
Without another word, Eddie followed Veronica away from the chaos, the mass of students gathered outside having already dissipated, leaving them alone in the hallway. Eddie waited for her to speak, his hands shoved into his pockets for lack of a better place, and he rocked back and forth on his heels as he watched her dig through her bag.
“So… uh… What’d you want to talk about?” he finally asked, trying to peek at what she was looking for, surprised when she pulled out a… a packet? And a heavy-looking one at that, he noted, confused when she handed it to him.
“Midterms are in two weeks.” she began, voice clear. “And you will be passing all of them.”
“O… kay?” He turned over the weighty packet in his hand, flipping through its pages. “And this is supposed to help me?”
“This is all of the material that’ll be covered on the tests.” she explained, poking a finger at one of the pages. “I spent the week putting it together, so that we know what to focus on.”
“Hold on, you… you made this?” Flipping through the packet again, he suddenly realized that all of the pages were handwritten, her penmanship impeccable, all of the problems clearly explained in the way she’d since learned he’d understand best. “Windsor, I-”
She didn’t let him finish. “Until midterms start, we’ll need to spend our lunches going over this.”
And he gaped at her, unsure he’d heard her correctly. “We need to eat… together?” he asked, brows furrowing together as she nodded, braids swaying with the movement. “Really?”
“You want to get through that thing by yourself?” she asked, her voice as flat as it was blunt, and she bit back a smile as Eddie conceded with a drop of his shoulders.
“Right.” His words trailed out on a sigh, and he rubbed at his forehead, willing away the headache he could feel brewing behind his eyes. “You’re… You’re right, as always.”
“Look, Munson,” Veronica said, her voice soft. “You can do this, okay? This is all stuff you already know. We’re just… reinforcing it.” Her hand moved, hovered over his arm as if to give him a comforting pat, but it fell back to her side, the movement somewhat awkward. “Meet me at the library starting tomorrow.” she added, and gave him a smile as she walked back toward the lunchroom. “And don’t be late! The more time we get with this, the better!”
Eddie gave her a weak excuse of a wave; after she’d crossed the double-doors, he fell back against the wall, hands dragging over his face, cheeks burning as he tried to collect himself enough to return to his table.
If any of them noticed how utterly red Eddie was, they were wise enough not to mention it.
“Christ, Windsor, can we take a break?” Eddie groaned, head falling to the wooden library table, his hair fluttering around him as it settled about his shoulders. “My brain’s melting out my eyeballs.”
They’d been at it a week, their extra studying sessions. Everyday, they’d meet in the library to pour over the material, working through each of the questions several times over in order to ensure that he’d retain the information - and all of this on top of his daily tutoring. He doesn't understand why she’s putting in the extra effort, but he appreciates it nonetheless; he tries not to read too closely into the way her voice gentles when she’s explaining something to him, or how she’d take the time to go over a particular problem ad infinitum whenever he’d get confused. He tries to stay focused - Lord knows he does - but somewhere between Calculus and U.S. History II, his mind began to wander.
Seated as close as they were, Eddie leaned his arm against the tabletop, head resting on his hand, eyes scanning the page Veronica was reviewing with him. He followed the path of her manicured finger along the lines of text, enthralled by how the light caught on the pastel yellow polish. Her hands, so small compared to his, were bare; he wondered absentmindedly if he should get her a ring, just to fill the empty spaces, the implications of such a gift lost on him. He tried to focus on the material, but how could he, when her voice sounded so sweet? So honeyed? Had it always sounded like that? Eddie shook his head, biting the inside of his mouth, forcing his thoughts back to the topic at hand.
As she continued onto some Godforsaken equation, Eddie’s gaze moved to her head, trailing over her inky hair; she’d only braided a single today, just like she’d done on Halloween, the thing as glossy as it was thick, hanging over her shoulder and tied at the end with a ribbon in a color matching her blouse. How would it feel between his fingers, he wondered? Would she let him touch it, if he asked? Hell, he’d let her touch his hair any day-
“Munson?” Veronica asked, her voice breaking through the pleasant haze of his thoughts. “Are you listening?”
Obviously not, his mind blared. “Sorry, I… I think I zoned out for a second.” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck, a chuckle bubbling up from his chest as she shook her head, flipping back to the start of the section they’d been reviewing, beginning again in the same mellow tone of voice that had him bewitched; she’d only gotten through the first few sentences before she leaned back in her chair with a sigh, flipping the packet shut.
“You’re not paying attention.” Fearing he’d upset her, he reached for the thing, flipping through it, searching for the page they’d been working from.
“No, I-I am, I promise-”
She’d reached for his hand, her touch warm against the chill of his rings, and Eddie had to suppress the shudder radiating at the base of his spine from the sudden contact. “We’ve covered enough for today - just finish your lunch, alright?” She smiled at him, soft and inviting, and he finally relaxed into his seat, prying open his metal lunch box and pulling out his usual baggie of pretzels.
“Want some?” he offered, holding out the plastic thing toward her, biting back his grin as she took a few, popping them into her mouth, offering him bits of her own lunch in exchange - and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a… memorable day at school, sharing a meal with her, the conversation between them easy, their shoulders all but touching as they whispered to each other to keep from being shushed by the librarian.
They’d been going through it for hours, sitting on Eddie’s bed, pouring over what they had left of the packet, reviewing the material they’d already gone through. It was the night before the first of many midterms, and Eddie’s panic was palpable, with Veronica left to try and keep him calm enough to remember how hard he’d been working, reassuring him that he was more than prepared to take the test - Calculus, for Monday.
Outside, they could hear Wayne shuffling about, mindful of how loud he’d set the television as not to interrupt their studying; when Veronica had first appeared at their door, he’d been surprised, sympathetic to his nephew’s academic situation, even a bit confused as to why she had agreed to take him on - from Eddie's grumblings, he'd been well aware of who she was. Now, he considered her as much a part of his family as his own flesh and blood. Hell, he’d even gotten her a mug to use whenever she was over. Setting a tray of pizza rolls into the oven, he sank back onto the couch, beer in hand as he watched the week’s baseball game, the soft echo of Eddie’s music fading into the background.
“Did you remember to follow the order of operations?” Veronica asked, passing back Eddie’s scribble-heavy notebook, moving closer beside him to point out the equation he’d been trying to solve. “Here, you left out the exponent. Do that first, then solve the rest.” Taking it back, he wracked his mind for an answer, used his fingers to count, scratched what was left of his eraser over the page, not realizing his tongue had been poking out from between pressed lips all the while.
“Like this?” he asked, voice hesitant as he passed the notebook back to her, tapping his pencil against his knee as she checked over his work, and his shoulders fell in relief at her smile.
“Good job, Munson.” The look on her face, warm and gentle and proud, nearly turned his stomach to mush. “See? You got this.”
He dragged a hand through his hair, cheeks flushed at her praise. “I just hope you’re right, sweetheart-”
“Ed!” Wayne shouted from the living room. “Oven’s goin’ off!”
"Be right back…!" Eddie jumped off the bed, shuffling down the hall toward the kitchen, and dug through the cabinets in search of mitts.
“Everything alright in there?” Wayne called out from the couch, turning to look at his nephew over the back of the couch. “Brain’s not melted yet, is it?”
“Everything’s hunky-dory, Dad.” he replied, pulling the tray out of the oven; his body halted mid-motion, steaming rolls in hand as he shook his head - he couldn’t help but smile at the thought that Veronica’s… unusual language was finally rubbing off on him. “We should be done soon, anyway.”
“Y’ain’t lettin’ her take that bicycle home, are you?”
Eddie let out an exaggerated gasp, mitted hands slamming against his chest. “And leave the delicate princess alone in the dead of night? How could I ever?”
“Delicate, my ass.” Wayne mumbled to himself, satisfied with his nephew’s answer, taking another sip of his beer as he turned back toward the game.
Setting the rolls onto a plate, Eddie made his way back to his bedroom, pushing open the door with his foot, not wanting to drop anything - but as he laid eyes on the bed, he paused, frozen under the open doorway.
Veronica had fallen asleep.
He set the plate atop his desk, his footsteps silent as he approached the bed, not wanting to wake her. She grumbled something, glasses digging into her skin as she pressed her face into his pillow, her body curled up, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. Without a second thought, he reached for his blanket, tugging it over her, ignoring the fuzziness settling in his chest at the sight of her snuggling so tightly to it, nearly disappearing beneath it. Carefully, slowly, he pulled off her glasses, frowning at the red marks they’d left behind, stopping only for a moment when she’d made a groan of protest before drifting away. He stepped back from the bed, unsure of what to do next; taking the pizza rolls with him, he left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.
“Somethin’ wrong with the rolls?” Wayne asked, catching Eddie sneaking the plate back into the kitchen, the food obviously untouched.
Eddie shook his head, more than a bit dazed and confused. “No… uh… They’re fine, I think.”
“You think?” Wayne lowered the sound on the television, turning to give his nephew his full attention, his eyebrow raised in question. “You didn’t try ‘em?”
Again, Eddie shook his head, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Veronica’s not hungry.” he replied, his answer striking Wayne as uncharacteristic of her.
“She alright?” asked the older man, shutting off the game altogether, rising from his spot on the couch.
“S-She’s fine…!” Eddie stammered; Wayne didn’t believe him, doubly so when he’d tried walking down the hallway and was pulled back by the arm. “You don’t have to check on her.”
“Eddie, what’s going on-”
“She fell asleep.” His reply came so quickly, so hurriedly, that Wayne thought he’d misheard the boy.
“She… fell asleep?”
“In my bed.” Eddie clarified - as if his response needed clarifying.
The older man let out a heavy sigh and dragged a hand over his bald patch, scratching at his scalp. “And did-”
“I tucked her in.” he replied, pulling his hands from his pockets, nervously squeezing at the tips of his fingers.
Wayne groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose, his shoulders dropping in exhaustion. “Ed, I swear to God-”
“What was I supposed to do?” Eddie hissed, mindful of the volume of his voice, his face already beginning to burn. “She fell asleep!”
“Wake her up!” Wayne replied, waving his arm toward the closed door of his nephew’s bedroom.
Eddie paled, shaking his head. “What? No, I can’t!”
“Well, she can’t sleep here!”
“You wake her up, then!”
“It’s your bed, son - and she sure as Hell ain’t been tutorin’ me.” Wayne shook his head, muttering something about young folk under his breath as he walked into the kitchen, setting a few of the rolls onto a plate for himself. “It’s getting late. Poor girl needs to go home.”
Eddie’s head snapped between his uncle’s retreating back and the hallway; he knew the man was right, and was certain that her mother would be worried about her being out so late. Still, it took every ounce of his will to march himself down the hall. So, with his lip caught between his teeth, he slipped into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Oblivious to the debacle that had occurred mere feet away, Veronica was still sound asleep, Eddie’s blanket clutched beneath her chin, face buried into his pillow. He moved toward the edge of the bed, taking in a deep breath, steeling his nerves as he brought his hand to her shoulder, giving her the gentlest of shakes.
“Hey, Veronica.” he whispered, taking a half-step toward her, not realizing he’d called her by her name. “Time to wake up, sweetheart.”
She grumbled something he couldn’t understand, and her brows furrowed together as she moved beneath his blankets. “M-Munson…?”
“Mornin’, starshine.” His voice was softer than satin, and filled with a tenderness he - at least for the time being - chose to ignore altogether. “Time to go home. It’s way past your bedtime.”
“But, we didn’t finish…” Her words trailed off into a yawn, and she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, shaking her head to keep from dozing off. “My glasses…?”
“I think I’ll be fine.” He gave her a smile, which she returned with a tired one of her own. “And, here,” he added, grabbing the pair from atop his nightstand. “I took them off for you. Didn’t look too comfy sleeping with them on.” She nodded her thanks, quiet as she slipped them back onto her face, pushing them up the bridge of her nose.
“How long was I…?”
Eddie looked at his watch, and gave her a shrug. “Twenty minutes, maybe? It wasn’t too long, I think.”
“Christ, Munson - why didn’t you wake me up?”
And his response was simply, “You were tired.”
With an obvious reluctance, she peeled herself away from the warmth of his bed, sliding on her shoes as she followed him out into the living room; she picked up her jacket, stuffed her things back into her bag, moving at a snail’s pace compared to her usual energy.
“Be back soon,” Eddie told his uncle as they passed by the kitchen, reaching over the counter to give the man’s hand a swat to stop him from eating what was left of the rolls.
“‘Night, Veronica.” he called out, giving her a fatherly smile, hand raised in a wave.
Her yawned reply of, “G’night, Uncle Wayne…” prompted a shared look between the Munsons, Eddie rolling his eyes at how the older man’s face melted at her words. Plucking his keys from the hook near the door, he led her out to his van, helped her into the passenger seat, even buckled her seatbelt, all while her head slowly began to bob. Hopping into the driver’s side, he gave the old thing a minute to warm up, the resulting silence between them… comfortable, even if she was half-asleep.
The drive to her house was short, faster than usual because of the late hour; pulling up in front of her lawn, Eddie was quick to move to her side. As he opened the door for her, he reached over, giving her knee a light tap, the touch jolting her awake.
“Huh…?”
“You’re home.” he said, offering his hand to help her out - and part of him was surprised she’d taken it, holding onto him all the way to her front door. He stayed with her as she dug through her bag, mainly out of fear she’d fall over.
“Shit…” she mumbled, shaking her bag around, face dropping into a frown.
“What?”
“Forgot my keys.”
His gaze darted between her and the curtained window; he swore he could see the faintest gleam of light shining from inside. “Nobody home?” he asked, and with his mind clearly elsewhere, he reached forward, Veronica left pressed into his shoulder as his hand hovered over the doorbell. But, before he could think to press it - before she could think to stop him - the abrupt, rumbling avalanche of footsteps echoed from beyond the door, the wooden thing swinging open with so much force, Eddie thought it’d been torn asunder from its hinges.
“Veronica…!” A woman yelled, pulling the girl in question into the house by the arm, all but crushing her in her vice-like embrace, pressing a flurry of kisses onto the top of her head. “Oh, I was gettin’ so worried when you didn’t call…!”
Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the woman, draped in a silken lavender robe fringed in fur, the thing dragging along the ground as she swung Veronica about, bell-shaped sleeves reaching past her knees. Her mop of strawberry-blonde hair was piled high atop her head, wrapped in curlers wider than his fist, and her face was caked in some fluorescent-green goop he could only assume was a face mask.
“Sorry, Mom…” Veronica mumbled, giving the woman a kiss on the cheek and frowning when she inadvertently tasted the mask.
Mom?
“And who’re you?” the woman - Veronica’s mother, apparently - asked, giving Eddie a noticeable once-over, hands settling atop her hips as her gaze upon him chilled, Veronica taking the chance to escape upstairs; Eddie’s eyes followed her silent retreat, and he swallowed against the lump of nervousness in his throat.
“Hi, ma’am. I’m… uh…” he tries to say, wiping his palm against the side of his pants before extending it out to her. “I’m Eddie Munson. Veronica’s been tutoring me?” As he spoke, the woman’s face melted into something akin to excitement, and she shook his hand with enough gusto to throw off his balance, her cold scrutiny giving way to the brightest of smiles.
“You’re the Munson kid? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Her voice was high-pitched, energetic, and she didn’t let him go as she continued on, her cherry-tipped fingers still wrapped around his grip. “My name’s Lorraine - I’m Roni’s mother.” And, leaning in toward him, making quite the show of looking around to make sure her daughter was nowhere in sight, Lorraine stage-whispered, “She talks about you all the time!”
“Mom!” Veronica shouted from upstairs, clearly having heard her.
Eddie’s face flushed at the admission, and he cleared his throat before asking, “She… She does?”, his stomach flipping at the woman’s emphatic nodding. He shoved his hands into his pockets, taking in a deep breath before adding, “Sorry for bringing her back so late - I know she has a curfew.”
Lorraine gave his shoulder a swat, her flouncy robe swaying with the movement. “Don’t worry about it! As long as she’s been with you, I think I can make an exception.”
Eddie nodded in agreement, his smile finally breaking through. “Could you… uh… tell Veronica I’ll pick her up for school tomorrow? I forgot to put her bike in my van before we left.”
Lorraine nodded, arms crossing over her chest. “Sure, honey. I’ll let her know.”
He nodded again, his gaze moving to the empty staircase behind her before he finally turned back toward the street. “I guess I should probably go.” he said, adding quickly, “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Windsor.”
“Get home safe, dear!” she called out to him, watching from the open door as he made his way back to his van, giving him one final wave as he pulled himself into the driver’s seat before shutting the door.
Eddie turned on the van, giving the engine a minute or two to heat back up, his hands cupped over his mouth as tried to warm them; just as he’d moved to switch gears from P to D, he jumped at the sudden knock against his window.
“Hey?” he asked, rolling the thing down, his voice still a bit rough from the shock of finding Veronica standing outside of his van.
She bit at her lip, kicking her slippered foot against the front tire as she said, “Sorry for tonight.” With her head lowered, she missed his softening grin. “And thanks for the ride.”
“Dad would’ve killed me if I’d let you leave by yourself.” he replied with a laugh, as though he’d ever have let her go alone, Wayne’s insistence be damned. “I told your mom I’d-”
“I heard.” Veronica said quickly, cheeks still pinkened with embarrassment at what the woman had told him. “What time will you be here?”
“Is 7:00 too early for you?”
“I should be asking you that.”
Eddie beamed a smile at her, shaking his head. “Right again, sweetheart - I’ll be here at 8:00.” he said, and leaned over the edge of the open window, arms folded beneath his head as he added, “A man needs his beauty sleep, y’know?”
“You mean those dark circles don’t grow themselves?”
“Exactly.”
They stood in silence, their grins slipping as the conversation between them faded away, a chill blowing between them, howling through the trees.
“You should get inside, it’s too cold to be out here in… are those rabbits?” he asked, eyes wide as he leaned over the window’s edge to look at her slippers, swallowing back a bark of laughter as her face burst red at his words.
“They were a gift.” she gave by way of explanation, and that was that.
Eddie pulled himself back into the van, finally pulling it out of park, his foot pressed flush against the brake. “I should probably go before Dad eats my half of the pizza rolls.”
Veronica nodded, taking a step away from the door. Had he been any more distracted, had he taken a moment longer in buckling his seatbelt, he would have missed her parting words:
“Goodnight, Eddie.”
He turned to look at her, her voice echoing through his mind - it certainly hadn’t been the first time she’d said his name, but he’d never heard her say it like that. He blinked, his thoughts a confusing slurry as he somehow managed to return the sentiment.
“...Goodnight, Veronica.” His voice was low, quiet, but she grinned all the same; she gave him a small wave as he drove off, and he watched from his rearview mirror as she walked across her lawn and back into her house, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to remember which way was home.
#ride the lightning#becca.fic#i stand by my headcanon that Wayne is a musicals fan#and he has a bunch of records from broadway hits that Eddie grew up listening to#and that 'mornin' starshine' like is from Hair (1967) so it fits#i had to look up old D&D handbooks to see which monsters would have been released in the early to mid 80s and the Drolem fits#i need this fic to be ACCURATE#also I intended Lorraine to come off as a mix between Fran Fine and Elle Woods because she is absolutely That Bitch and i Love her#also headcanon Eddie only calls Wayne 'Uncle Wayne' when he's being a little shit otherwise he just calls him Dad#because the man is his father and i will be taking no questions about it#and wayne going all soft when veronica calls him Uncle Wayne makes me so happy#and eddie passes all his midterms with Bs btw i had a scene planned out for that but i didn't think it fit well but yeah our boi passes#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x original character
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youtube
On March 23, 2023, Suzy Eddie Izzard appeared on the British talk show Lorraine. They spoke about Great Expectations, politics, and the origin of Suzy’s name.
This article from Pink News gives an excellent overview of the interview:
#suzy eddie izzard#eddie izzard#lorraine#video#interview#great expectations#pink news#youtube#article#talk show
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Meat Loaf - I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That) 1993
"I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)" is a song written by Jim Steinman, and recorded by American rock singer Meat Loaf. The song was released in August 1993 as the first single from the singer's sixth album, Bat Out of Hell II: Back into Hell (1993). The last six verses features English singer Lorraine Crosby, who was credited only as "Mrs. Loud" in the album notes. While visiting the label's recording studios on Sunset Boulevard, Crosby was asked by her manager Steinman to provide guide vocals for Meat Loaf, who was recording the song "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)". Cher, Melissa Etheridge and Bonnie Tyler were considered for the role. The song was a commercial success, however as Crosby had recorded her part as guide vocals, she did not receive any payment for the recording but she receives royalties from PRS. Crosby did not appear in the Michael Bay-directed music video, where model Dana Patrick mimed her vocals. Meat Loaf promoted the single with American vocalist Patti Russo performing the live female vocals of this song at his promotional appearances and concerts.
The power ballad was a commercial success, reaching number one in 28 countries. The single was certified platinum in the US and became Meat Loaf's first and only number one and top ten single on the Billboard Hot 100 and Cash Box Top 100. It also became Meat Loaf's first and only number one single on the UK Singles Chart, and was the best-selling single of 1993 in the UK. The song earned Meat Loaf a Grammy Award for Best Rock Vocal Performance, Solo.
American film director and producer Michael Bay directed the accompanying music video for "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)". The cinematographer was Daniel Pearl, particularly known for filming The Texas Chain Saw Massacre in 1973. Pearl says that this video "is one of my personal all-time favorite projects… I think the cinematography is pure, and it tells a story about the song." The video is based on Beauty and the Beast and The Phantom of the Opera. Bob Keane did Meat Loaf's make-up, which took up to two hours to apply. The make-up was designed to be simple and scary, yet "with the ability to make him sympathetic." The shoot went over budget, and was filmed in 90 °F (32 °C) heat, across four days. The video, which was the abridged seven-minute version of the song rather than the twelve-minute album version, was put into heavy rotation on MTV.
Meat Loaf appeared in over 50 films and television shows, sometimes as himself or as characters resembling his stage persona. His film roles included Eddie in The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) and Robert Paulson in Fight Club (1999).
"I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)" received a total of 77,7% yes votes!
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Trailer park Steve AU pt. 55 (12.2)
part 1 | part 54 | ao3
A cop picks him up just outside Dinwiddie, two and a half miles from where he left his car on the side of the road. She’s plump and squat, with red hair and a midwestern accent, like Mrs. Henderson if she grew up in Minnesota.
“Wisconsin,” she corrects. “Hop in, I’ll take you to Lorraine’s.”
“Thanks, Officer…?”
“Greene.”
Steve accepts the offer because his fingertips are so cold they’re starting to burn through his leather gloves, and as she drives them to the diner in town he explains the flat tire — debris flying off an eighteen wheeler, a crazy loud clang followed by a flapping thud-thud-thud, the smell of burnt rubber as he eased onto the shoulder only to remember that he never replaced his busted tire jack.
“Coulda been worse,” Officer Greene shrugs, looking at him with a small grin and tapping a gloved finger against her temple. “Coulda hit ya in the noggin.”
“True," Steve chuckles, "could’ve gone four for four on the concussions.” He has to cover his laugh with a fake cough because he gets a flash of concerned crazy eyes in response, which is pretty fair, actually. Sometimes he forgets the details of his life all sound insane. “Uh. Sports," he amends. "I play— yeah.”
The rest of the drive is quiet. Steve watches the woods, the shadows reaching like blunt fingers over the hills, and the snow turns to freezing rain and pools in all the potholes as they splash down the sad main street, past a junkyard and an old schoolhouse, past boarded-up windows and short, stubby buildings full of failing small businesses. Lorraine’s is a hole in the wall at the end of a neglected strip, half the bulbs on the sign blown out so it just reads Rain’s in flickering yellow light, and Steve thinks that's fitting because this place is shit. This place is shit, and he feels like shit, and he’s going to have to drive home to his shitty trailer and see Eddie’s van parked across the street or maybe it still won't be there at all and he— he fucking—
"Easy," Officer Greene says. "You'll chew a hole through your lip doin' that." She parks the car and turns to him, squinting. "You okay?"
Steve pinches the end of his nose.
In the diner, she slides into the booth opposite him and insists on buying him coffee and a short stack, because, "Well, no offense, young man, but you seem like you may be goin' through it a bit."
Steve winces over his coffee, cradling the warm cup with both hands. “Yeah, well,” he sniffs, “my, uh…" Your what, exactly? "I got dumped.”
He doesn’t know why he gives her the details — the empty bed, the sticky note. Sorry. Something in her eyes makes him feel like he can trust her, and when they finish their meal she reaches over and lays a hand over his. Tells him it sounds like he’s got a lot of other people who love him; tells him he should think about giving one of them a call.
With a lump in his throat and fresh tears in his lashes, he fishes quarters from his pocket and trudges over to the phone. Dials one of the few numbers he knows by heart.
“Hello,” Claudia greets, “Henderson residence.”
A truly ugly noise escapes him, wet and thick with phlegm.
“Hello?” she tries again. "Dusty, is that you? Are you okay?"
Steve’s not about to cry where all the waitresses can see. “Hey, Ma,” he croaks when he feels like he can breathe. “It's Steve. Can I... do you mind if I stay with you for a bit?”
—
part 56
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Sight for Sore Eyes - Eddie Munson x Reader
An As You Wish Story
Summary: With both of Eddie's sons having respective issues at school, you feel more a part of the family than ever when all of the Munsons want you by their side.
Note: I thought this up in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep, now here we are. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: mentions of bullying, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, dad!eddie, older!eddie
Words: 5.2k
[As You Wish masterlist]
It’s family movie night in the Munson house, but unlike most other quality times with you and the boys, Eddie can’t focus on the film that’s playing on the television. Ryan brought home yet another disappointing progress report. Not only is that unusual for his eldest son, but it’s also frustrating because when Ryan comes home to do his homework, he always understands it. Be it you or Eddie who goes over it with him once he’s finished, both of you can confirm that the kid knows his stuff. So why are his grades suffering?
At first, Eddie was concerned that Ryan was being bullied. He had brought up to you the idea of teaching Ryan how to fight, but you insisted it would be better to talk to Ryan’s teacher and see if she noticed anything. Mrs. Renner told Eddie that she had not seen anything out of the ordinary, but she would keep a special eye on Ryan. After two weeks of observing Ryan and other students throughout the day, she was able to report back to Eddie that everyone seems to like Ryan and he had no problems with anyone those entire two weeks. It was a relief, but Eddie was back to square one.
Possibilities still running through his mind like crazy, Eddie absent-mindedly rubs his thumb across the small strip of your skin exposed as your t-shirt rides up.
“My powers are beyond your mortal imagination. For instance, my eyes can see straight through your armor. Oooh! All right, that's it! Dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Make a note of this. Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow, dis…”
The small, red dragon's rant barely registers in Eddie’s mind as his eyes trail over to Ryan, sitting on the other side of you. His son’s face is all scrunched up as he looks towards the television, his small body even leaning as forward as he can in his seat. Eddie’s brows furrow as he watches Ryan for a few moments, and the boy’s facial muscles don’t move at all.
“Uh, bud? Ry? Can you see the TV okay?” Eddie asks.
“It’s kinda blurry, isn’t it?” Ryan asks, scrunching his face up to squint even more. “Is it ‘cause it’s an old TV?”
You swivel your head towards your boyfriend and the two of you share a knowing look. Eddie’s shoulders sag with relief, a simple solution to an issue that’s nagged at him for weeks may be within reach.
“It’s not blurry,” Luke blurts out from his place on the floor in front of the couch. His Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle coloring book is flipped open in front of him, half colored and half covered in butter stains from the six-year-old’s fingers that keep digging into the popcorn bowl. “TV’s fine,” Luke follows up, spewing a few kernels out of his full mouth.
Movie pushed from your mind at this new revelation you may have stumbled upon, you turn yourself on the couch to face Ryan better. Eddie adjusts his arm that was around you to simply wrap his arm around your middle and lets his fingers glide softly over the cotton of your t-shirt.
“Um, Ryan?” you ask, watching his adorable little face as it pinches up this way and that to watch the animated singing soldiers on the television. “Where do you sit in your class?”
Now Ryan’s face just scrunches up in confusion; to him, this question came out of nowhere.
“By the bulletin board and the bathroom key hanging on the wall. Right behind Lorraine Poe,” he says.
“Oh, sweetie, no, I meant, like, towards the front, towards the back…” you trail off.
“Kinda middle I guess,” Ryan answers with a shrug, turning back towards the movie.
Eddie lets out a gentle sigh and you lean your body back against his. His large, warm hand rubs over your belly for a moment as he watches his son’s profile.
“Can you see the board okay?” Eddie asks. “At school?”
“Sometimes,” Ryan answers, the song in the movie pulling most of his focus.
“Sometimes?” his dad questions.
“Yeah. Sometimes my teacher writes so small that I can’t always see what it says, though.”
You frown and tilt your head down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
“Have any of the other kids said anything about her writing being too small?” you ask.
“No.”
“Ry?” Eddie clears his throat. “I think maybe we should take you to an eye doctor.”
This captures the eight-year-old’s attention back from the screen. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. It makes your heart ache at how small and vulnerable he looks like this, the fear of going to the doctor evident on his cherubic face.
“Why?” he asks softly.
“Well, it sounds like you’re having trouble seeing. The board at school is blurry, the television here is blurry,” Eddie points out.
“I don’t want to go.” Ryan shakes his head.
“Why not, sweetie?” you ask as you reach forward to move some hair off of his forehead.
Ryan’s fingers start to fidget where they’re pressed up against his jeans and he begins to gnaw on his lower lip—a few nervous habits he picked up from his father.
“What if there’s something wrong with my eyes?” he asks in a small voice.
“Ryan, honey.” You lean forward out of Eddie’s grip so you can wrap your arms around the eldest Munson brother. “There is nothing wrong about needing some help to see. Plenty of people do.” You hold him against your chest and rub your hand up and down his arm soothingly.
“I don’t want glasses,” he mumbles.
Being a kid is hard enough already. Add how soft spoken Ryan is and add new glasses on top of it, and you can understand where he’s coming from. Some jerky kids might say some mean things. But that’s not a reason he shouldn’t get his eyes checked out.
“Hmm,” you muse. “You know, I can think of a very special little boy who wears glasses. He’s probably the coolest kid there is besides you and Luke.”
“Who?” Ryan is clearly curious, but still hesitant about where you’re going with this.
“You don’t know?” you ask him with a smile. “You only read about him every night before you go to bed.”
Ryan gasps in delight, sitting straight up in your arms.
“Harry Potter!” The excitement on his face has your heart gushing from the inside out.
“The Boy Who Lived!” you cheer. “He’s a super powerful wizard and he needs glasses to see.”
A shy but genuine smile starts to appear on Ryan’s face and Eddie subtly gives your waist a small squeeze of appreciation.
“There’s also Superman,” Eddie adds.
“Clark Kent wears the glasses,” Luke corrects his father, eyes never leaving the TV. You do your best to hold in a giggle; wherever Eddie’s geeky knowledge ends, Luke’s begins.
“And Clark Kent is Superman,” Eddie says, picking up a piece of popcorn and tossing it at the back of Luke’s head.
Ryan seems more at ease now, his body posture more relaxed and less rigid as he settles back into the couch cushions. You go to snuggle back into Eddie’s side when Ryan looks up at you with those big brown eyes that are identical to his father’s and slips his small hand into yours.
“Will you go with me?” he asks, voice soft.
You could almost cry at the question. He wants you to go with him. The love and trust he has in you in this moment of fear and uncertainty means the world to you. Eddie doesn’t miss the emotion on your face at the comfort you bring to his son. He knows he’s so lucky to have you, the woman of his dreams, but the fact that you and the kids wholeheartedly love each other as well? It’s enough to make Eddie tear up any time he thinks about it for too long.
Before you give Ryan an answer, you look at Eddie, wanting to make sure that this is okay with him and that you’re not overstepping. Eddie gives you a nod, his eyes shining with pure adoration.
“Of course I will, Ry.” You press a kiss to the top of his head, and he then lays it down on your shoulder.
“Thank you,” he answers, just loud enough for you to hear.
There’s no reason he has to thank you. This moment, this trust and love he’s giving to you as a parental-type role means the world to you. You’re clearly not the babysitter anymore—you’re their dad’s girlfriend, but a new relationship is blossoming between you and the boys as well. The strong ties that always bonded you and the kids are being bronzed, never to fray or be broken. This is starting to feel in the neighborhood of motherly and it feels more amazing than you could have imagined.
Ryan keeps his hand in yours the entire time you sit in the waiting room of the tiny optometrist’s office. The fact that you’re his comfort in this situation has you practically beaming enough to be one of the models on the posters that surround you of people who are overly excited to have a new pair of glasses. Ryan has always loved and felt safe with you, but this is different, and you both know it—even if neither of you know how to put it into words.
“Ryan Munson?”
His small hand is surprisingly strong as he grips yours like a lifeline at the sound of his name. Before you stand up, you lean in to whisper in his ear.
“I’m going to be right next to you the whole time. I promise.”
The words have Ryan loosening his vice grip just enough that you’re able to feel your fingers again. The two of you are led into a small office that has model after model of the human eye and a large chair directly in the middle of the room.
“You must be Ryan,” the doctor says as he steps into the office and shuts the door behind him. He’s an attractive man with a kind smile, right around Eddie’s age. “I’m Dr. Barnes. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Ryan gives him a nervous smile as he climbs into the large chair. “Nice to meet you too.”
You take a seat in a yellow hard plastic chair near the door and the doctor turns around to introduce himself to you as well. After he shakes your hand, his attention goes back to his patient.
“Tell me a little bit about what’s been going on with your eyes, Ryan,” Dr. Barnes says as he sits down on a rolling stool.
The boy shifts in the large chair, the nervousness still very prevalent. “Um, well I-I haven’t been able to see the board very good at school. A-And at home the TV is all blurry.”
“Well, we definitely have to fix that!” Dr. Barnes says with a sympathetic sigh. “Gotta be able to do your work at school and then come home and watch cartoons. It’s a good thing your mom brought you in.”
You freeze, half a sputter coming from out of your mouth because you don’t know what to say. It’s a logical assumption on the doctor’s part, but if you let it slip by without correcting him will Ryan think that’s weird? If you correct the doctor will Ryan take that as meaning you don’t want to be called his mother? Or would Ryan feel like you’ve crossed a boundary if you just go on letting Dr. Barnes think that you’re his mom?
“She’s the best,” Ryan says, saving you from speaking at all. The anxiety immediately leaves your body at his words. The way Ryan smiles at you from his chair while the doctor sets things up has your heart soaring. His look practically says, yeah, I said you’re my mom because that’s what I want.
Somehow you manage to keep it together without crying—you’ll do that in front of Eddie later. Dr. Barnes turns out the main lights and puts a focused light on an eye chart just above your head. You watch as he tests Ryan’s vision by looking at different charts and signs full of numbers and letters of all sizes before he lowers the phoropter in front of the eight-year-old’s face. Ryan almost goes cross eyed trying to look at the machine as it gets closer to him, and you can’t help but chuckle.
“Okay, I’m gonna show you two different lenses and you tell me which one is clearer while looking at that chart. Sound good?” Dr. Barnes asks.
“Uh huh,” Ryan says as tries to find the right angle to look into the machine. His voice is much steadier now.
“One or two?”
“Uh…one.”
Multiple strengths are tried out and it seems like Dr. Barnes asks Ryan to pick between “one and two” about a million times. Even you’re getting fidgety in your seat by the end of it, so you can only imagine how antsy Ryan is.
It was pretty evident to you that Ryan would end up needing glasses, but the little boy looks less than thrilled when the two of you head back out into the main area so you can find some frames.
After spotting a few pairs that he likes, Ryan starts to find it fun, seeing which ones look better on him and which ones make him look silly. In the end, he settles on two different sets of frames—which Eddie already said he’s cool with because he’d bet good money that one pair would either get lost or broken before the year is out.
As you’re paying, Dr. Barnes makes sure the copy of Ryan’s prescription is all filled out before he hands it to you. The paperwork comes with a smoldering smile from the optometrist, and as flattering as it may be, it still makes you feel a tad awkward.
“I suppose I’ll see you back here in a few weeks, huh?” Dr. Barnes asks, directing the question at you instead of Ryan.
“Oh,” you say, caught off guard by the flirting. You look down and shake your head, but you see your ringless hand and understand why the man probably thinks you’re a single mom. “His dad,” you start, wrapping your arm around Ryan’s shoulders, “he, um, my boyfriend will probably be the one coming here to pick up the glasses with Ryan.”
“Ah,” Dr. Barnes says with a nod. “I guess I’ll see you soon then, Ryan.”
You look down to see Ryan squeezing his lips together, trying not to laugh as he nods his affirmation. He clearly understands what just happened and his expression makes it difficult for you to keep your laughter held in as well.
The glasses will be ready in about two weeks and the little Munson doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that he has to wear them anymore.
After the eye doctor, you take Ryan out for lunch at Schoop's Hamburgers, just the two of you. Both of you order milkshakes and you hold a finger up to your cold lips.
“Don’t tell Luke or your dad, they’ll be so jealous!”
Ryan just giggles and takes another sip of his strawberry shake while trailing an “X” over his heart with his right index finger.
“Daddy’s taking me to pick the glasses up?” Ryan asks as you’re throwing away your garbage.
“Maybe,” you admit with a shrug. “Depends on our schedules that week. But I have a feeling your dad will want to be the one to take you.”
“Because the doctor wanted to kiiiiiiss you?” Ryan asks in a mischievous little voice that you’d expect from Luke more than him.
“Yes,” you acquiesce with a chuckle. “But I’m sure he’s just as excited to see what your new glasses look like.” But it’ll definitely be mostly about Doctor McFlirty, you think.
When you get home, Eddie’s at the kitchen table, looking over some bills. As soon as you and Ryan walk through the door, Eddie pushes it to the side and stands up.
“Hey, how’d the appointment go?” Eddie looks back and forth from you to Ryan, not sure which one of you will speak first.
“He did great,” you tell Eddie, throwing a wink Ryan’s way.
“I picked out some glasses and they’ll be ready in two weeks!” he proudly tells his dad. Then his eyes light up and he lets out a small giggle. “And the doctor wanted to steal your girlfriend, Daddy.”
“What?” Eddie’s immediately defensive and looks towards you, eyebrows raised.
You can’t help but giggle right alongside Ryan at Eddie’s expression. “He tried flirting with me, but I told him I was with you.”
“He was bummed,” Ryan adds.
“I’m taking you to pick those glasses up,” Eddie tells his son, jabbing his thumb into his t-shirt clad chest.
“You were right!” Ryan says with a laugh, looking over at you.
“Do I know your Dad or what?” you ask as the two of you high five one another.
A couple of weeks later, the glasses are finally in. Eddie takes Ryan by the office after he gets off work to go pick them up.
The smell of roasting garlic fills the air as you make dinner and Luke is watching television when they get home. Ryan bounces in, excited about his new glasses. There’s a proud gleam in his eye as he stands in the middle of the entryway, taking in the view of the apartment clearly for the first time in a while.
“Let me see, let me see!” you say as you step out of the kitchen. “Aw, Ry! They look even better than the display ones you tried on at the store!”
The rectangular black frames complement his dark eyes and honey brown hair. You’re overcome with how handsome of a young man your little Ryan is turning into.
Luke kneels on the couch cushion and turns around to see his brother.
“Lemme see.”
Ryan does a one-eighty to show his little brother. All Luke does is give him a thumbs up before he goes back to watching The Fairly Odd Parents.
“It feels kind of funny,” Ryan tells you, rubbing his left eye beneath the glasses. You can already see fingerprint smudges on the lenses and you’re grateful you remembered to buy lens cleaning cloths the last time you went grocery shopping. “What does? What feels funny?” you ask.
“Seeing things that are far away!” he says, both excitement and a slight bit of irritation in his usually calm tone. “Almost makes me a little dizzy.”
“Doctor said that’s normal,” Eddie says, resting his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Your eyes will get used to them real quick, then it won’t feel that way.” He raises an eyebrow and looks at you. “And this doctor also seemed a bit nervous around me.”
You giggle and bound over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “He’s threatened by what a wonderful, sexy man you are.”
“Gross,” Luke mumbles from the couch.
Soda almost sprays out of your nose at Eddie’s story about a difficult customer who came into work this morning, when one of his co-workers pops his head into the breakroom.
“Hey, Eddie,” he says, rubbing a hand over his bald head, leaving small streaks of grime behind. “There’s a phone call for you.”
“Oh, okay,” Eddie says. He crumples up the tin foil you brought his sandwich in and tosses it in the large trashcan behind him. Not in a particular hurry, Eddie stands up and stretches his arms over his head. He smirks and presses a quick kiss to your lips when he sees you checking him out. Your gaze continues to look him up and down as he takes the few steps over to the phone on the wall.
“Hello?” Eddie asks.
The chicken sandwich lying on the table in front of you looked good when you first arrived to have lunch with your boyfriend, but now that you’re full it looks as if it’s taunting you. Crinkling fills the room as you pack it back up in its foil. Just as you’re lifting your can of diet Dr. Pepper to your lips, Eddie’s face clouds with worry and he lets out a frustrated sigh.
“Yeah, uh, I’ll be right there,” he says into the phone.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, slipping your leftovers into your large black purse. As Eddie hangs the phone back up, you walk over to stand at his side, careful of getting your clothes dirtied by his coveralls.
Instead of answering you, Eddie lets out another sigh and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Gimme a second, baby.”
You watch, confused, as Eddie steps across the hall into his boss’s office. There seems to be a short, quick conversation before your boyfriend comes back out and slips his hand into yours.
“It was the school,” Eddie tells you as he leads you towards the exit and out into the parking lot.
“Are the boys okay?” you ask, feeling your heart rate pick up as you walk briskly towards his truck.
“Luke’s in the principal’s office,” Eddie tells you with an agitated huff. “He got into a fight.”
“He what?” Your eyes almost pop out of your head. “Is he okay?”
“Just a little banged up, according to the principal,” Eddie says as he opens the passenger side door for you.
“Poor baby.”
Long strides lead Eddie around his truck, and he situates himself in the driver’s seat. He gives a humorless chuckle as he starts the engine.
“Wayne wasn’t fucking kidding when he said Luke is a little version of me.”
“First of all, we all say that,” you tell him. “Second of all, you fought at school?”
“Oh, baby,” Eddie says with a soft laugh as he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “Remind me to tell you some stories when we get home.”
When you get to the school, you and Eddie practically jump out of the truck and head towards the building. Once you’re both inside, you feel rough calloused fingers tangle with your own. His eyes are straight ahead but you can tell Eddie’s nerves are on edge as he gives your hand a soft squeeze.
Luke is sitting on the bench outside of the principal’s office, his legs dangling over the edge, swinging back and forth. He’s watching his black and white sneakers disappear beneath the wooden seat before reappearing again, taking no notice of you coming down the hall. Only his profile is visible from the angle you’re approaching from.
“Luke,” Eddie says as the two of you walk up to him.
The young boy jumps off the bench and turns to face the two of you. You’re startled to see his eye already bruised and purpling, along with a small cut on his bottom lip. There’s the instinct to pull him into your arms and take care of him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. But Luke’s grinning up at the pair of you; a stark contrast to the evidence of the brawl on his face.
“Oh, hi! They told me they called Daddy, but I didn’t know both of you were coming!” The excitement on his face to see both of you is adorable yet seems out of place since he must know he’s going to get in trouble.
“Luke, what happened?” Eddie asks at the same time that you ask, “Are you okay?”
“M’fine,” Luke answers your question with a shrug. “My hand hurts more than anything.” The boy cradles his right hand against his chest and it’s the first time you see his scraped and bruised knuckles.
“What happened?” Eddie asks again, this time with less patience.
Luke’s eyebrows furrow, a little “v” creasing his forehead. The pride from the fight vanishes from his eyes as he recalls the situation.
“Stupid Trevor Brown opened his big fat mouth on the playground!” Luke says sternly, even louder than he usually is. “He said to Brandon Simpson that Ryan’s glasses made him look like a loser.”
“So you hit him?” Eddie asks.
“No, I told him he better shut his damn—uh, dang mouth. Trevor just laughed and said Ryan was a nerd! Then I hit him.”
Eddie sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes closed. Secretly, he’s proud of his son for sticking up for his brother, but he has to compose himself so he can tell Luke he shouldn’t have done that. The paradox of being a parent.
“Luke, you should have told a teacher instead,” Eddie tells him. “Hitting someone is not the way to shut them up.”
“Well, punching him in the mouth did the trick,” Luke points out.
You try not to laugh, covering it up with a cough. Eddie’s better at keeping himself composed but you know he would be grinning if he could.
A door squeaks open and the principal steps out of his office with another young boy, a huge bruise blooming on his jaw and dried blood caked under his nose. Luke definitely came out the winner of the fight.
“You sit here and wait for your mom now, Trevor,” Principal Andrews says, gesturing to the bench Luke was just sitting on. “Ah, Mr. Munson. Thank you for coming.”
“And this is his girlfriend!” Luke announces proudly, coming to stand in front of you. The small boy is wiggling his way out of any trouble with you by seeming so thrilled to have you there and showing you off proudly.
Eddie nods his head at the principal, ignoring Luke, and shakes the man’s hand. You gently pat Luke’s curls, hoping he takes the hint to shut up.
“I’m sorry for the trouble,” Eddie says, and you silently wonder how many times Wayne had to say that to Eddie’s principal growing up. “This one is in for it, I’ll tell you that.” Eddie nods his head towards Luke. “Can someone just let Ryan know Luke won’t be on the bus coming home?”
“Of course,” Principal Andrews says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke. We’ll be better behaved then, won't we?”
Luke turns to head down the hall without answering, but Eddie grabs the back of his t-shirt and pulls him back. He puts his hands on Luke’s shoulders and spins him around until he’s facing the principal again.
“Luke,” Eddie warns him.
“Yes, Principal Andrews,” Luke says in a monotone, eyes on the shiny white linoleum tile below his sneakers. Deciding he’s done with talking, he slips his smaller hand into yours, deciding he’d rather hold your hand than his father’s right now.
“Thanks again, Principal Andrews,” Eddie says before the three of you walk down the hallway towards the exit.
It’s utterly silent until you get into Eddie’s truck. You’re not sure what to say, because this is between father and son. Eventually, you decide you’ll just be a referee if it comes to that.
Eddie silently pulls the truck out of the parking lot and starts to head home.
“Luke,” Eddie finally says after seven minutes of terse silence. It feels like he’s said his son’s name about a hundred times already today. “I don’t like that you hit someone. But I am proud of you for sticking up for your brother.”
In the rearview mirror, Eddie can see how Luke grins at that, which makes Eddie smile in turn.
“I wasn’t gonna let those buttheads talk that way about my brother,” Luke says. “I know I’m not s’posed to hit—I do. But if someone says something about a person I love, I just get so mad, and it comes out all violent.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, loud enough for only you to hear. “He is my mini-me.”
When you get home, you take Luke into the bathroom so you can clean up and bandage his wounds. His knuckles are still sore and stinging when you finish, so he sits on the couch with a bag of frozen corn on them. Eddie plops down next to him as you lean against the wall between the bathroom and living room, wiping off some antibacterial ointment that you accidentally got on your own hands.
“You know I have to punish you, right?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks down at his youngest son.
“I know,” Luke says with a sigh.
“I want you to go in your room until dinner time. Try and work on your homework if your hand starts to feel any better. And no dessert after dinner tonight.”
“And then?” Luke asks, looking up at his dad nervously, afraid of how long he’s going to be grounded.
“And then tomorrow you wake up, get ready for school, and keep being a wonderful brother.”
It takes a minute, but a smile slowly spreads to Luke’s face as he realizes there’s no punishment besides the minor consequences he’ll have to endure tonight.
“Now, go on. Get to your room,” Eddie says.
Luke gets up and heads towards the hallway before stopping and turning back to face his father.
“Don’t tell Ryan what happened, okay?” Luke says, wincing at the chill from the vegetable bag against his scrapes. “I don’t want him to know that someone said mean things about him.”
“I won’t tell him,” Eddie assures his son. Luke turns back towards the hallway, but Eddie calls him and he faces his dad again. “You’re a really good brother. Ryan is very lucky to have you, and I know he’d have your back too. I’m very lucky.”
“Aww, Dad,” Luke says, wrinkling up his nose. “So mushy. But… I know I’m lucky too. Always felt that having you and Ryan. Never with Mom though. But now I got someone pretty cool who loves me like I’m her kid and that’s even better.”
Luke continues down to his room and Eddie is filled with the overwhelming feeling of love. Love from the kind words from Luke—which are rare within themselves–the love that his two sons have for one another and that special bond, and love at the fact that Luke recognizes that you love him and Ryan as if they’re your own children. You practically see them that way anyway.
You walk in from where you’re holding up the wall, emotional yourself over Luke’s words, and take a seat next to your boyfriend on the couch.
“How ya feeling?” you ask, bringing your hand up to play with one of Eddie’s stray curls.
“I’m so fucking proud of my son,” Eddie admits with a hushed laugh. “I know I had to tell him the whole ‘violence isn’t the answer’ spiel, but I would’ve done the exact same thing that he did. When I was a kid or even now.”
“He’s such a good brother,” you say, an adoring grin on your face as well.
Eddie wraps his arm around you, and you snuggle into his side.
“So, I believe you had some stories to tell me?” You tilt your head up to smirk at your boyfriend.
Eddie chuckles and gives a shake of his head. “Oh, you better buckle up, princess. I’ve got some wild tales.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#AYW#AYWS
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My Little Love
Chapter 35
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader
Word Count: 3.0k
Warnings: fluff, Lottie being a cute, Henry being sweet,
A/N: This is just a filler chapter and I'm not super in love with it. I wanted to set up Sugar and Honey's future friendship. Also because Honey and Steve are not a thing yet in this series Lottie gives Honey a nickname of her own...
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The new house was almost completely furnished so it was a no-brainer that you’d moved in already. The master bedroom was a dream come true with a giant walk-in closet, en-suite bathroom and a private balcony that looked out to the back yard. You loved that it was still on the compound grounds but separate. The best part was that Tony was having one made for everyone on the team so it would be like a little community with just your friends. Most of the houses were halfway finished too.
You had been surprised when Tony offered your father a position as a part time instructor for the agents in training. Eddie had been in the military and had the knowledge so he accepted, he even took your old apartment. He’d decided to rent out the family home since it was just him now. Luke and Molly of course had their own place. Josh and Sofia were still in college and living in the dorm rooms. Living at the compound made more sense to Eddie and now he was closer to all of his kids. It would be best for him since he wouldn’t be as lonely anymore. Not since Lorraine disappeared, to them at least. You knew the truth and you couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d tell your family or how you would handle the situation once she was found.
There’s a dip at the end of the bed that pulls you out of your thoughts. You close the book you stopped reading a while ago and look up to see Bucky crawling his way up towards you. He smiles before giving you a quick kiss and then settling down over your lower half. Bucky snakes his arms around your hips, his head rests over your midsection and his eyes close as he sighs peacefully. You run your fingers through his hair, down his shoulders and back up. Bucky groans at the sensation. The engagement ring catches your eyes for the thousandth time that day and you can’t help but smile.
“We should get married.” You say after a moment of silence.
“What do you think the ring was for?”
You giggle. “I mean we should start planning.”
“Sugar, as long as it’s me and you in front of an officiant I don’t care where or when we do it. We can have a big wedding or we can elope. The final choice is up to you as long as you become my wife and no one objects because I really don’t want to murder anyone on our wedding day.”
“You can’t murder anyone on our wedding day.”
“I can’t make any promises. But what I can do is help plan. Just say the word and I’ll do whatever you want.” Bucky says confidently.
“What about the rest of our lives?”
“I’ll definitely help with that. Let’s see, we have jobs and a house.” Bucky starts saying.
“What about kids? We have two already.”
Bucky shifts slightly so that he can look at you. “Do you want more kids?”
“Maybe.”
“I’d love more kids.”
“How many is ‘more’ to you?” You tilt your head to the side.
The conversation gets put on hold when Lottie stops in the hallway.
“Hey.” Lottie calls out from the doorway with a little pout on her lips. “Wanna cuddle too.”
“Then come up here.”
She jumps on the bed and you point at Bucky’s back. Lottie giggles before throwing herself on top of Bucky. He grunts when she lands on his back. Her little arms fall around his sides and she even tickles him. You can’t help but chuckle as Bucky pretends to feel ticklish for his daughter's sake. Henry steps into your bedroom a few seconds later with Alpine in his arms. He takes one look at whatever is happening on the bed and furrows his brows in confusion.
“Bubba help.” Lottie yells with a laugh when Bucky flips her off his back and tries to grab her.
Henry places Alpine down and jumps on the bed and then on Bucky.
“Aren’t you gonna help, Sugar? I’m being attacked from all sides.” Bucky says from under the two kids who have now overpowered him, supposedly.
As you reach for Henry he turns invisible and takes Charlotte with him. All you hear is the echo of their footsteps and laughter. They even taunt Bucky from somewhere in the house that he can’t get them. Bucky props himself up on his elbows and looks at you with a dreamy look in his eyes.
“I want more of that with as many kids as you’ll give me.” Bucky answers the question you’d asked him before Lottie walked in. “I don’t care if it’s one or four or ten.”
“Not ten.”
Bucky chuckles. “The point is that whatever happens, however many kids we have, I’ll be more than happy to share all of that with you.”
You smile softly at him then lean forward and kiss him.
“We have some kids to catch.” You say against his lips.
Bucky huffs a laugh, his eyes and nose wrinkling. He gets up and holds a hand out for you.
“Ready or not, here we come.” You announce loudly, receiving a scream from Lottie.
You were panting, hands on your hips and sweaty. Even though you weren’t an active member of the Avengers anymore you still kept up with your training, just in case. It was a beautiful day outside so you opted for a run. You’d just finished and were catching your breath when Bruce’s lab assistant walked up to you. She played with the pearl necklace she was wearing as she moved closer.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” You say her name and smile.
“So I hate to do this but I was wondering if I could get your help.” She states.
“Well I can try. What’s going on? Are Bruce and Tony up to something?”
She shakes her head before placing her hands in the pockets of her lab coat.
“There’s this piece of equipment that was brought from the tower but they couldn’t get it into the building the normal way. It doesn’t fit through the hallways. Tony was able to get a window off the building but it’s getting complicated.” She sighs in frustration. “I was wondering if you could, you know.” She brings a hand up and wiggles her fingers.
You chuckle but nod your head.
“Lead the way.” You turn to see that Henry and Lottie are standing beside Bucky while he’s putting the recruits through some training. The kids are cheering them on and even handing out water bottles to some.
****
You stood at the far end of the lab where Tony had the glass pane removed. Outside on the lawn sat a pretty big machine wrapped up in a tarp. With your hands on your hip you consider how to best move this thing.
“Where do you want this?” You turn back and look at Bruce’s assistant.
“Here would be fine. If it’s not too much trouble.” She answers while pointing towards a corner of the room.
“Ok.”
You take a deep breath and close your eyes while concentrating on the machine below. Slowly and evenly the machine starts to levitate and then move higher until it’s at your level. Then you manipulate it to move toward the building.
“Does it look like I can actually pull it in?” You ask as you survey the entry point.
“You have enough space to bring it in without hitting the other windows.”
You nod and walk backwards, pulling the machine in your direction until it’s in the room.
“Can you take the cover off before I set it down?”
She rushes over and removes the tarp with a small smile. It’s obvious she’s excited about this because you don’t see her smiling that much. With whatever this machine is in place you finally set it down. She inspects it and nods in approval.
“Thank you. Tony was taking forever in getting his bots to fly this up.”
“You’re welcome.” You smile at her. “Listen, I was if I were to invite you for dinner-“
“No.” She said way too quickly it almost made you chuckle. “Sorry I just- I’m not good with the whole friend thing.”
“It’s ok. I was just going to invite you to dinner on Friday night at my place. Steve will be there too, if it makes you feel more comfortable. Don’t feel pressured to go but the invitation stands. Not just for Friday but any day.”
“I uh-“
“Mama.” Lottie calls out for you with a sing songy lilt to her voice. The double doors slide open and in walks your daughter with a smile on her face. “Oh hi mama.” She turns and greets Bruce’s assistant.
“Hello Charlotte. I saw you training the recruits.”
Charlotte’s smile grew brighter. “Am helping dada.”
“Well you’re doing a good job.”
“Tank you.”
“Well the offer stands.” You said softly. “Even if it’s just for coffee or if you need anything at all.”
She gives you a small nod and thanks you again for your help.
“Alright sweet Angel, say goodbye to doc.”
“Duck?” Lottie looks confused. “Mama is no duck.”
“I said doc like doctor, sweet Angel.”
“Oh, duck is cute, wike a duckie. Can be my duckie?” She looks up hopefully at the other woman.
She puts her hand on her chin like she’s thinking about it for a moment. Lottie is practically holding her breath.
“Ok you can call me Duckie. But only you.”
“An bubba?”
She smiles. “Sure and bubba but no one else ok?”
“Ok, Duckie.”
“Alright sweet Angel let’s go. I need a shower.”
“Yeah, mama you gots stinky butt.”
“How. Dare. You?” You said, acting shocked.
Charlotte’s eyes grew wide before she started laughing. You moved to grab her but she ran.
“I’m gonna get you and make you all stinky.”
Charlotte lets out what sounds like a mixture between a shriek and a laugh before running toward the sliding doors. You smile and say your goodbyes before leaving. Charlotte runs back into the lab.
“See you Fwiday. I see it, bye.” She calls out before leaving again.
The newly nicknamed Duckie stands there amused at Lottie’s behavior.
Friday had arrived rather quickly. Bucky has kissed you goodbye about ten times already and he jogged up the porch steps one more time and gave you two more just to keep the kisses even. You laughed and pushed him toward the car you used to get to and from the compound.
“Dada wait!” Lottie ran out of the house and stopped him as he started to reverse.
Bucky parked and got out of the car to meet her.
“What’s up, Doll?”
“One mo’ hug.” She stretched her arms out in order for Bucky to hold her.
“There’s always time for one more hug.”
He kisses her all over her cheeks and forehead before letting her down.
“Good wuck dada. Lobe you.” Lottie waved him off from the porch.
Just as you were about to turn to head into the house the sound of a golf cart got your attention.
“Duckie!” Lottie cheered as Bruce’s assistant got out and stood at the bottom of the steps.
You said her name with a smile, “I’m glad you came by.”
She had her hands in her pockets and she looked at the floor before giving a small nod.
“Well Charlotte said she saw it and Steve encouraged me to come over.”
“That’s good, come on in.”
She walked up the steps and let Lottie take her hand. Lottie pulled her into the house while you reminded your daughter to be gentle. After leading her newest friend with you Lottie disappears into her playroom.
“Want anything to drink? We have water, soda, beer, wine and juice boxes.”
She smiled before asking for water. You placed a glass in front of her.
“So…” you both say at the same time.
“Go ahead.”
“How did you and Steve become friends?” She asked.
“I called him out on his bullshit immediately and will continue to do so happily.”
She nods in agreement. “Good plan.”
“How about you? How did you two meet?”
“I walked into my lab and found him alone. It was about a month after you had been taken. He was really upset about it.”
You nod and give her a tight lipped smile. “Thank you for being there for him.”
Henry walks in and stops when he sees there’s a guest. While he’s now used to having people around he still gets shy around unexpected guests. He smiles shyly before taking his place beside you and asking how he can help. You have him set the table and then get himself and Lottie cleaned up.
****
You sat at the dinner table with Henry and Duckie. Lottie was on your lap but you didn’t mind. Since you came back whenever Bucky had to go on a mission she would cling to you whenever possible. That didn’t stop her from playing little hostess though. She made sure to ask Duckie questions and even extended an invitation to a tea party later.
“Habe some mama.” Lottie holds up her spoon, offering some dessert to you.
“Mmm, that’s so yummy. Thank you for making dessert bubs.”
“Henry, you made this?” Duckie asks.
“Yeah. Mama taught me how to make a lot of things.”
“He’s a natural in the kitchen. I just taught him the basics. He’s learned a lot on his own.” You smile proudly at your sweet boy.
“Amazing. You should be really proud of yourself. I can’t cook to save my life. So thank you both for feeding me.”
“Well you can always come here to eat, right mama?” Henry looks at you for confirmation.
“Absolutely. Especially for Henry’s pastries they’re to die for.”
“Yeah, is so yummy.” Lottie adds before spooning more dessert into her mouth.
****
Once everyone was done you cleaned up the table, being joined at the kitchen sink by Duckie. She was glad to help with washing dishes.
“You’re a good mom.” She says quietly.
“Thank you.”
“I mean it.” She says and it makes you stop to look at her. “I know it must’ve been difficult at the beginning but I see that you truly love them and they love you.”
You could tell there was something behind the statement but you didn’t want to push her.
“The beginning wasn’t easy but they just needed some patience and love and I do love them so much.”
She gives you a small smile and you both turn to finish washing up. Just as the last dish is done you offer some wine which she accepts surprisingly. The two of you talk for a little longer, keeping the conversation light. You both share more about your jobs and how you got started.
There are quick steps down the stairs, which you now know is Charlotte. You turn just as she stops in front of the door. A few seconds later Bucky is walking in with Steve following behind.
“Dada.” Charlotte launches herself into Bucky’s arms.
“Hi doll. How did you know I was going to walk in just now?” He asks in almost a joking manner.
“I see it.” She smiles proudly. “Hi Steebie.”
Bucky gives Lottie a kiss on her forehead before handing her over to Steve. Henry surprise attacked Bucky by jumping on his back while invisible.
“I thought you had a three day mission. What happened?”
“Halfway there we were informed that local authorities had raided the warehouses. Apparently they had been doing an undercover investigation for about a year.” Bucky shrugs before making his way to you and giving you a quick kiss.
“Good, we missed you already.”
Bucky greeted your guest before excusing himself to change into something more comfortable.
“We have leftovers, I’ll make you a plate. Steve, are you staying?” You tell him.
“If it’s not too much trouble.” He smiles at you before turning to his newest friend. “I’m glad you came over.”
“Yeah, it was nice.”
You smile and give them a moment alone by heading into the kitchen. Lottie follows you and offers to help somehow. She’s just happy that Bucky and Steve are back.
Just as the microwave is done Bucky makes his way back out. He’s dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He takes a seat at the table and Lottie makes herself comfortable in his lap. She rested her head against his chest while he and Steve ate.
The four adults and Henry are talking and joking around. You’re happy to see Duckie opening up around you a bit more. Although you know it has to do with Steve being here.
“She’s asleep.” Bucky says softly while looking down at his daughter. “I’ll be back. I’m going to put her down.”
“I should be going. Thank you for having me.”
“Of course,” you say to Duckie as you walk her out. “Remember you’re always welcomed here, for whatever you need.”
“Thanks. Good night.”
“I’m going to go back home too.” Steve says before giving you a kiss on the cheek.
“How convenient.” You murmur loud enough for Steve to hear.
He rolls his eyes but heads out anyway and offers to accompany Duckie back toward the main compound building.
Upstairs, Bucky sets Charlotte down and then helps Henry get settled for the night.
You’re writing something down in your notebook as Bucky walks into your room and settles down next to you . He’s watching as you continue your writing with a smile.
“What’s that smile for?” You ask without looking up.
“I’m glad that I could be home instead of out on that mission.”
“We’re glad you’re home safe too.” You finally finish writing and set the notebook down before turning all of your attention to him. “What do you think about the end of August?”
“For what?”
“For the wedding. It would be before school starts and warm enough that we could have an outdoor weddingng.”
Bucky smiles and nods. “That would be great.”
“How about a small wedding?”
“That could work.”
“Alright,” you lean in and kiss him. “Let’s plan a wedding.”
Ch. 36
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thinking of eddie helping you braid your hair when you’re getting ready to spend the night
made this about eddie and witchy because i cannot stop thinking about them- this is also for the anon who said they can't stop reading it (thank u hehehe)
fluffy fluff below the cut, witchy being jealous and thinking of hexing his exes <3
He had to drag you into his apartment.
In a hilarious turn of events, due to some kind of San Francisco strike, all metro routes were suspended and there was no way you were going to walk in heeled boots all the way to Twin Peaks.
"Why call an Uber, baby? You can literally come upstairs at mine" Eddie says, watching you huff as you read over the e-mail about the strike.
"No Eddie you don't understand. I need to be home. I have a whole ritual! And silk pillowcases! Why can't you just drive me?" you whine, hoping he'll fold to your requests like he always does.
He grabs you by the shoulders, giving you a tender look.
"Because, my lovely witchy, metro routes being down means there will be absolute pandemonium in the streets. And I'm not trying to stay fifteen minutes stuck in downhill traffic" he laughs as you follow him around the store.
He's still working, you got off an hour before and after walking around the vintage stores for an hour there wasn't much else to do. It's just him in the record shop, working the closing shift. You follow him around trying to convince him to drive you back as he puts back the vinyls in the milk crates, folds band t- shirts, and rearranges patches in the display case.
"C'mon, witchy, just go up. I have Chinese takeout from last night or spaghetti if you wanna cook, I'll stop by the hair place across the block to get you a silk pillowcase. Promise" he says, leaning over the counter to kiss your forehead he opens up the cash till.
"But Ed-" you whine, you've never slept outside of your apartment before.
"No buts, I'm sorry witchy. Now get your cute butt out of here, I've got money out" he says, puckering his lips, ready for a kiss.
You lean over the counter and give him a quick kiss before he hands you the keys to his apartment.
"Don't forget to call Lorraine to get her to feed Circe!" he exclaims before you're out the door. You roll your eyes, of course you'll call Lorraine, your neighbor, if Lorraine existed.
But he doesn't have to know you can feed Circe with a snap of your finger whenever you forget to leave food out in the morning.
So you groan and you go through the backdoor of the store to reach the small, dingy courtyard of his apartment. Second floor, apartment 5C.
This building is so old it doesn't even have an elevator. You reach the door and open it, the rattle of keys falling over the counter is the only sound that can be heard, along with the clack of the short heels of your boots.
You take your shoes off and go through his fridge. Day- old Chinese takeout, a carton of eggs and milk. Three cans of Sierra Nevada, a half- drunk bottle of Coke Zero. You open his freezer.
Honey walnut shrimp and fried rice from Trader Joe's, a bottle of vodka, and a tub of ice cream from the last time you were craving it.
You roll your eyes and pick up the phone.
"Hey Ed, you have jack shit in your fridge. Can you stop by the Greek place down the block? I’ll have a gyro with chicken and falafel on the side” you request, hearing his groan at another chore he has to do post closing.
“Baby the Chinese food in the fridge is pretty good, it’s from the place we always go to” he’s not very convincing, but he’s tired and now lost count of the cash he was counting.
“‘kay i’ll put an online order for it so you just have to go pick it up, sound good?” you ignore him.
“Ugh fine but I better get, like, the biggest kiss in return.“ he groans, but it’s true. He is a weak, weak man when it comes to you. “Get me the pita wrap with lamb and fries, and lemme also get seasoned fries on the side. Thank you witchy, love you gotta go” he says, hanging up the phone.
So you order the food and then sneak in Eddie's bedroom to change into something comfortable. Getting rid of that fine line when clothes felt too much like clothes, the stitching pressing into your skin, the cuffs of your sweater feeling a bit too tight against your wrists, your jeans too tight on your legs.
So you venture in his closet and steal a pair of sweats and a ratty black t- shirt. One of his many. You go to the bathroom and notice there's no mirror. This dude.
So you tie your hair away from your face and use the nice face wash you got him- which you're sure he rarely uses- and wipe the makeup off your face. You go look for a clean towel, 'cause God knows you will not be wiping your face with the hand towel sitting on the rod on the wall.
After your face is clean you plop yourself on the couch and watch TV to pass the time.
Thirty- odd minutes later a rattling of keys startles you. Eddie walks through the door with his arms full of plastic bags. He places them on the counter.
"Hey witchy, I see you've made yourself at home?" he says, as you walk towards him and bury yourself in his arms. At least he smelled nice.
"Hmmm missed you, Ed" you mutter against the fabric of his t- shirt.
"You missed me?" you give a little nod, followed by a hum. His heart beats a bit faster, it's nice knowing you think of him when he's away.
"Aw, witchy. I missed you too, are you hungry?" he says, giving you a sweet kiss on the head as he detaches from your grip and reaches for the bag with the food, taking out the boxes.
"Also stopped by the hair place, got you that silk pillowcase and some shampoo and conditioner to keep here. Doubt you'll wanna use my three in one shit" he snickers, and you blush timidly. He's not sweet in the way that he'll kiss you in the middle of the street, but he is for sure sweet in the way he thinks about you an embarrassing amount of times a day.
"Thanks Ed, you didn't have to do that" you say, and he blushes, the boy tinges himself pink because you appreciate him.
"Y'know, anything for you" he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead as he brings the takeout boxes to the coffee table.
You follow him and plop down on the couch "I was watching 'Sex and the City' while you were gone" you explain, biting into your gyro.
"Was Samantha being her usual crazy self?" he doesn't even know who Samantha is, but he thinks it's funny to ask you every time. You giggle as he puts on a random show for you to watch.
After an episode Eddie stands up and stretches.
"I'm beat, I think it's time for bed" he says "c'mon, witchy"
You rise from the couch and follow him into the master bathroom.
“I have a toothbrush here for you, I kinda uh-“ from his tone you can tell he’s embarrassed “I got one for here the first time you came over, in case you ever, y’know, wanted to sleep over” he says sheepishly, while you wrap your arms around him.
He offers it to you, it’s pink. Your favorite color.
“Aw, Ed. You’re so sweet, thank you” you say and you swear you can see him blush as you place a delicate kiss on his warming cheek.
This slice of domesticity taken away from the mystic vibe of your apartment really makes you wonder. It makes you think about a normal life, with him.
The way he washes his face like a madman (without face wash), letting the water wet his bangs instead of pulling his hair back, the way he ties his hair up before brushing his teeth.
You take the toothbrush out of your mouth "Ah shtill don' undestand why you don' have a mirrah" you sputter, mouth full as you spit the toothpaste in the sink.
"Why I don't have a mirror? Previous tenant broke it and my asshole landlord still won't fix it" he says, taking off his shirt. Your eyes linger on the lines of his back a little too long, bordering the line between looking and staring.
So you turn around and you try to braid your hair without a mirror, but to no avail, every strand seems to be three different sizes.
You groan in frustration as Eddie approaches you.
"Lemme help, witchy" he says, standing behind you and tending an arm out for a hair tie.
He divides the hair into three strands. Your hair is so soft between his fingers.
He wishes he could stall so that he could caress it for longer, but an impatient yawn escapes your mouth as his hands deftly get to work. Over, under, over, under-
"Where did you learn to braid hair?" you ask, feeling the way he softly holds each strand, making sure he's not pulling at your scalp. You don't see him, but a smile forms around his tongue, peeking out of his lips in concentration. Over, under.
"I had girlfriends before you, witchy. They taught me to braid my own hair" he chuckles, as you try to tune out the word girlfriends. Under, over, under.
He can see a pout form on your lips, he smiles.
"Why'd you need to braid your hair?" you huff, thinking of going on a spiraling rampage and hexing every one of his exes. Over.
"Well" he begins "one time, an ex braided my hair and it came out super curly, so I wanted to try it myself. Turns out it needs to stay in the braid for a while for that to happen" he shrugs.
Under, over, tie.
"All done," he announces, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.
"Thanks, Ed" you examine the braid, flinging it over your shoulder "looks really nice" you say, and give him a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.
He gets himself into bed. His bed is oddly comfortable and his sheets smell of laundry detergent.
"I might have been washing my sheets every other day in case you wanted to sleep over" he confesses, blushing, as he lifts his arm, opening the warmth of his chest to you.
"You" you give him a kiss "are literally" another kiss "the sweetest guy" another kiss "in the history of always" last kiss.
He gets flustered when you call him sweet, because under the hardening exterior of black chains and shirts with exploding heads and hooded skeletal figures, there's just a sweet guy who loves you and wants you to like him for being himself.
"Just want you to, you know, have a good experience with me" he says, caressing your head.
"You get an 11/10 Yelp rating, can't recommend to anyone, though. You seem to be preoccupied with a really cool girl, and it seems it's going to go on forever" you giggle, as he smiles and gives you a kiss.
"Go to sleep, cool girl. Goodnight, love you" he says, before turning off his lights.
"Goodnight, Ed" you say, turning over so he can spoon you.
"You have to say it back" he whispers in the quiet of the dark room.
"Right, sorry. I love you too, Ed" you correct yourself and close your eyes, falling into one of the best sleeps you've ever had in your life.
The morning after, Eddie wakes up to his landlord bringing in a new mirror, his hair extra curled and all his exes blocked on his social media. But he doesn't have to know about that last one.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson x witchy!reader#modern!eddie x witchy!reader#modern!eddie munson#stranger things fan fiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things au#eddie munson au#eddie munson blurb
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Of Poltergeist and Sweet Treats
There is an intruder in his house.
That, or for some odd reason, his house is currently haunted by a food poltergeist.
Tommy pulled a face at that thought before gently closing his currently stuffed full to the brim fridge and cautiously stepped away from it. He rubbed his face tiredly (he was back from a very gruelling 48-hour shift) and to be honest, wasn’t mentally (and physically) ready to figure out what the hell was going on.
All he wants is to grab his (most likely expired) orange juice so he can drink it before he can crawl into his bed and sleep, damnit!
He deeply sighed again and opened the fridge again and haphazardly grabs one of the loaf, eyeing distrustfully at the neatly typed label (cherry tomato, watermelon radish and rosemary focaccia bread), breathing in the delicious scent of rosemary and fresh bread and couldn’t resist biting into it.
Dear God.
Tommy couldn’t help the moan coming out of his mouth as he enjoyed the crunch of perfectly crust and the sweet and peppery taste of the cherry tomatoes and watermelon radishes baked into it. He had to make himself put down the delicious loaf of bread and pull out another wrapped package, this time a small pot pie (Quiche Lorraine; warm first!!) After following the instructions on the label and warming it using the microwave, bite into it; the delicious combination of buttery pie crust paired with the savoury egg custard, smoky bacon, smoky bacon, nutty Gruyère cheese, and shallots danced across his palate.
After finishing the frankly divine pie, he turned to the fridge and began to catalogue its content, counting 5 different loaves of cake and bread (one banana and walnut cake, one vanilla and raspberry mascarpone loaf cake, one carrot cake loaf, one mixed nut loaf, a whole wheat sourdough loaf), 3 types of scones (a batch of sweet potato scones, half-a-dozen of savoury chorizo and manchego scones peppered with paprika, and a container of mixed berry scones), one very decadent box of chocolate fudge brownie just the way he likes it, 4 different types of soups (butternut squash soup, a savoury broccoli cheddar soup, a very filling savoury potato and leek soup and an oddly familiar-tasting chicken and mushroom soup that he simply couldn’t resist heating up and eat for his brunch) a box of red velvet cupcakes topped, what he can tell from just smelling it, cream cheese and a splash of peppermint and several portioned-for-one pans of lasagnas.
Heck, whomever invaded his house even restocked his fridge and pantry with much needed groceries and even got him a case of that rare pale beer he liked!
Taking a pic of the well-stocked fridge, he texted Lucy and Eddie, two people of the four people who had keys to his place that could be the culprit (Melton was working the same 48 hour shift with him and most likely passed out at his place and Sal was in Philadelphia, vacationing with his in-laws).
Tommy - Right, which one of you gremlins did this?
Biting into the decadent fudge brownie (He may or may not have shivers dancing down his spine while biting into the frankly sinful dessert), he turned to his phone when his phone vibrated, signalling the replies coming through.
Lucy - Brave of you to assume I know how to bake. 😤 😤 Lucy - Damn, are those red velvet cupcakes? Lucy - Share them with me 🤤🤤🤤 Eddie - Dude, I’m not even in LA right now?! Eddie - Didn’t I tell you I’m moving back to El Paso?
Tommy frowned. Eddie’s moved back to Texas? But what about Ev- Buck?
Tommy - You moved? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have sent you off man!
He hesitated before typing again.
Tommy -Why did you leave Buck? Tommy -Is he doing alright? Tommy -Have he moved on? Tommy -If I tell him I’m sorry, will he take me back?
Deleting the texts, he opened his group chat with Evan, and Tommy began texting him. Are you alright?
Staring at the last text message, he rubbed his face and deleted that one as well, instead opting to try one of the red velvet cupcakes.
It was delicious and yet tasted like bitter regret to him.
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Tommy came an hour early for his shift the next day as he, once again, couldn’t sleep. Rubbing his face tiredly (and making a mental note to shave before Captain Pruitt sees him and give him another verbal reprimand on personal hygiene) when Harbor’s latest probie pilot, Nell ‘Twitch’ Andrews, lurched toward him and pushed a basket full of cookies at him before walking off. “Someone left this for you earlier today.” She called out before walking into one of the desks.
Tommy winced before pulling the poor kid away from the table. “Did you get the name of the person who dropped this off?”
“He didn’t say. Just tell me to give it to you and only you.” She rubbed her eyes tiredly.
“Ok, what does he look like? Maybe he’s one of my friends.”
The probie just blinked tiredly at him and gestured vaguely over her head. “About this high? And he has a pretty smile? I,” She yawned tiredly, “didn’t pay attention, sorry.”
“It’s your 4 days off after this right? Go catch some sleep before you hurt yourself.” Tommy grabbed some of the cookies and gave it to her. After making sure she left with her brother, who came to pick her up, Tommy looked into the basket and admired the beautifully decorated christmas themed sugar cookies, the gooey smores cookies with the marshmallow center, chewy looking red velvet cookies and his favourite, decadent looking triple chocolate cookies, all labelled just like the ones at his place but this time each labels had some cheeky christmas cheers and jokes on it.
“What’s that?” Melton and Lucy appeared out of nowhere, followed by fellow Aeromedical pilot Miriam Kareem and her co-pilot Zack Black, surrounding him and his bounty.
“Cookies!!” Miriam made grabby motion toward the basket and pouted when Tommy simply held the basket over her head.
“Come on, you can’t finish all of them by yourself. And you already have all that snacks in your fridge. Where’s my cupcakes anyways?” Lucy groused.
“Snack? Cupcakes? And you weren’t gonna share?” Everyone began complaining loudly, especially when Captain Pruitt came over, attracted by the noise. A brief scuffle then ensued where Tommy escaped the horde with less than half of the cookies intact. He immediately hid in his favorite secret nook (the fire escape on the second floor that overlooks over the entire airfield) and ate most of them, while scrolling through his social media, lingering over old photos he took with Evan and their text messages, typing and deleting every single sentence he typed in the chat.
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Buck didn’t plan for this to happen at first.
It was by coincidence that he was even in the same place as Tommy that night.
Buck had run out of flour (again) and instead of doing the sane thing and sleep, he decided to do a midnight run to the store.
There he was, at the baking aisle, trying to figure out if he should buy the whole grain flour and make mini pizzas to bring in for work tomorrow when he saw Tommy blearily staring at the colorful cereal boxes in front of him.
Taking in his unkempt look, the unshaved beard and the dark circle under his still beautiful blue eyes, Buck’s first thought was who was taking care of him now?
His second thought, what the fuck, I’m still mad at him.
His third and fourth thoughts were fretful. Is he sleeping well? He looks so thin; is he skipping meals?
So yes, he wasn’t proud of what he did next but staring into Tommy’s empty fridge with the expired carton of orange juice when he came by to put some prepped meals and snacks he made for him, he knew he was doing the right thing.
After restocking the fridge with more homemade soups and some chicken and leek pies for Tommy to enjoy after his shift, Buck wandered around the house, sighing when he saw the loads of dirty laundry waiting to be cleaned in the laundry room.
Tommy really did hate doing laundry.
He quickly separates the clothes according to color and starts the wash before going to Tommy’s bedroom and sinking into his bed, breathing in the scent of cedar and rosewood.
He know what he’s doing is wrong and creepy as fuck but someone needs to take care of the man since clearly he had been neglecting himself for the past month! ( Serve him right for breaking up with him, hmph! )
Buck rolled out of bed and began to change the sheets so Tommy can sleep easily after his shift, making sure the pillows are fluffed just the way Tommy liked it, remembering the times Tommy did the same for him.
Damn, he missed having Tommy doting on him and him doting on the stupid dork.
After cleaning up the rest of the house and folding the laundry away, Buck left the house the same way he came in (through the kitchen door and the backyard; Tommy forgot he told Buck where he kept his spare kitchen door keys, the very same way Tommy forgot they synced their google calendar months ago hence how Buck knew his schedule), taking with him one of Tommy’s LAFD hoodies.
What? He deserved some treats too!
Plus he missed sleeping in Tommy’s clothes, surrounded by his scent.
Tommy stumbled into his place, yawning. Thankfully the 24 hour shift was a Q-word shift and he ended up burning up the sugar rush by being a menace with his clipboard, running maintenance on all the helicopters in the hangar.
(Lucy may have sneakily taken a picture of him and sent it to Eddie, who blanched all the way from El Paso, Dear God, there’s two of them! Did Buck infect Tommy with his clipboard persona? Is Chris next? They did spend a lot of time together while Chris was growing up. Eddie thought, looking suspiciously at his son, who looked weirdly at his father.)
----------
Tommy entered his house and tiredly dropped his bag onto the floor. Taking in the afternoon sunlight bathing the living room, he noticed a hoodie hanging over his couch.
Ah, his intruder was here again.
As he passed the couch with his bag of dirty clothes, he swiped the familiar looking hoodie with him as he made his way to the laundry room.
As much as he wanted to ignore the pile of dirty clothes and sleep the shift off, he knew he needed to get a head start on it or end up regretting it. So it was to his surprise when he saw the empty baskets and the neatly folded towels on top of his dryer. He immediately ran to his closet and there it was, his freshly laundered clothes hung neatly, separated by colors and types.
Hmm…
He then turned to his bed and to his surprised pleasure, the bed sheets were changed. He couldn’t resist and sank into the freshly made bed and dragged the hoodie close to his face, hugging it tightly as he breathed in the familiar faint smoke, musk and mint scent.
“Evan, why are you being too nice to me?” He groaned, falling asleep surrounded by his ex’s scent.
tagging: @cannibalhellhound @weewookinard @herrmannhalsteadproduction @leashybebes @blue-arts-stuff @cjlouwho @peppermintquartz @aringofsalt @bidisasterevanbuckley
#fix it au#comedy romance#Domestic Fluff#Tommy has a food poltergeist#or a very polite intruder in his house#he's not sure if he's thankful or creeped out#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy endgame
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in light of 911onABC posting this 911/Glee comparison:
and including Jennifer Aspen! (Lorraine-911/ Kendra-Glee)
Id like to use this post as my pitch on how I think Ryan Murphy should create a 911/Glee crossover.
Should every glee character cross over? no. they’re all grown up, some of the characters clearly have a double life in 911. But out of all the characters, I think the only two who should crossover (whose actors has not made a new appearance on 911 as of yet) should be Blaine and Kurt.
Klaine was a huge ship for a tv show in 2009-2015 when same sex relationships wasn’t socially accepted yet. But Ryan Murphy did it anyways which lead to (helped contribute) a whole new community form (LGBTQ+) in a new light.
Now years later, here we have Buck and Eddie. Buddie, who lots of fans passionately want to see them be together. Now in an age where same sex relationships ARE socially acceptable, yet we’re just not getting this ship yet.
I think it would be cool to have Blaine and Kurt, years later- still married with kids- come in and somehow influence Buck and Eddie to make the final push to be together. (either purposely or by total accident.)
and of course, a song sung by Kurt and Blaine. obviously.
#thoughts?#eddie diaz#evan buckley#911 on abc#911 buddie#buck and eddie#oliver stark#ryan guzman#glee#ryan murphy#blaine anderson#kurt hummel#chris colfer#darren criss#glee fox#911-Glee crossover#Klaine#also i found out about Kenny being on Glee about two weeks ago before this was posted and i was SHOCKED#also how dare they forget Kendra lmao
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Could you possibly do something with both mr.orange (readers boyfriend) who finally goes out and meets the rest of the dogs after giving Mr.orange a lovely hickey to show off. The dogs obviously give him a hard time about it but Mr.white just admires her handiwork and comments something like "that must have felt good" or "that must make him crazy worked up if you were able to get it that dark" until the reader offers to give Mr.white one as well. Which ends up possibly as a threesome.
thank you for your request loveeeee <3
SUMMARY: a hickey is worth a thousand words
WARNINGS: mature themes!
to say it was bad was an understatement. the goddamn thing was like europe threw up on the side of orange’s neck. you’d given it to him the night before in the back of a bar where the two of you giggled and got handsy like teenagers. it had only further developed since the darkness fell over it and left orange looking undeniably wringed out.
after hours of useless fretting over it, he wore the hickey proudly. he told himself that it was just another piece of you; a deliciously painful memory of your lips that he could carry throughout his day. plus, you were gonna meet the other dogs today. with you on his arm, it was like another trophy attached to its olympian.
as you strolled up to pat lorraine's, eddie and vic were already outside, stalking like gravekeepers with their smoking cigarettes. they eyed you both through sunglasses of varying tints, eddie making sure his pretty eyes got protected from the excessive californian UV.
“ain’t she somethin’?” eddie whistled within ear shot, marveling at the paint job of fred’s car as he curled it round the parking lot and stopped it at their feet. it was funny eddie said anything at all. he could’ve bought twelve of fred’s car plus the one he sat in now.
“well, she ain’t yours, pal,” freddie retorts with a smirk, yanking the gear in place with his head out the window.
“wasn’t talking about your girl.” vic squints, unwavering in his cloud of smoke. “but…now that you mention it…” he drops his sunglasses further down his nose and winks at you through the windshield.
with an eye roll, fred gets out of the car and your eyes follow his hurried footsteps along the asphalt, biting your lip as you wait. you hear your door jack open and shut, a rush of hot air hitting your arm.
“thank you, baby,” you hum with a smile.
“holy shit!” eddie cries, beside himself. “what the fuck is that?”
your attention is brought quickly from your body to the ever-so-obvious mark on freddie’s neck now that you were both gleaming in the sunlight.
“oh… i-" you stammer.
“i haven’t seen one that big since you got out of jail, vic!”
“fuck you, cabot.”
“what the fuck is taking you dicks so long— jesus, orange, your neck." a new voice emerges from the left of you followed by a pair of goofy long legs.
“i know," freddie grumbles, turning his body away and pinching his nose bridge.
“sorry. i’m pink--mr pink. nice to meet you.”
“nice to meet you,” you say politely, forming your hand to his as he extends to greet you. you note that all of them smell of the same smoke.
“you do that?” pink asks, in awe, and you can only blush.
“let’s go,” freddie sighs and walks you inside, a hand on your back as you make it through the doors and spot two more men sitting down at a large table.
“hey! there they are! hello, beautiful.” the older man, who you know to be white, stands up with his arms outstretched and kisses your cheek as they all file in and sit down in their respective seats, leaving one open for you next to orange.
“hello-“
“what the fuck happened to you?” brown recoils, interrupting. his arm leaned on the back of his seat, yet another cigarette parked between his big fingers.
“what does it look like?” freddie cocks his hip, totally flustered.
“sweet thing gave our boy a real juicy kiss!” eddie laughs.
“it’s bigger than my hand!”
fred finally sits down next to you as white does the same, sandwiching you between them. “mustve taken a while…" he trails, eyeing your lips and imagining fred's neck. "t'get it that dark”
you eye white, curiously. “what? you want one, white?” brown smirks. a few scrapes of silverware is heard over the sudden silence of the table.
“just sayin… it’s a beautiful job.”
orange reaches his arm around your chair and hugs close to you. “well, you can all get a good look ‘cuz im done talking about it.”
“awwwwwww!”
“lover boy's embarrassed!”
you look back at freddie, then back to the guys. you shrug. “i’ll give you one too if you like it so much.”
“oh, yeah?” white adjusts himself in his seat and smiles, his face turning red.
freddie furrows his brow before poking his head in to get closer to white.
“in your dreams, white. she’s kidding.”
“i'm not!" you whine.
“baby-“
“it’s just a little kiss…”
you can't help but feel all the dogs' eyes watching you and orange as you look at each other, negotiating with the micromovements in your eyes. they'd never guessed orange would date someone who'd be so charitable!
eventually, freddie sighs, scooting himself back to face the other side of the diner, “…fine.”
you can imagine what happens next.
#or maybe ill just write a part 2 OOOOOOO#5-centuries-of-verse#answered#reservoir dogs#x reader#mr orange x reader#mr white x reader#kissproof drabbles#freddy newandyke x reader#freddy newandyke#larry dimmick#larry dimmick x reader
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sorry guys. back to the future au
i saw back to the future on broadway and then the absolute fucking worst au idea popped into my head. sorry
Random is Marty, Ford is Doc, Arthur is George, and Trillian is Lorraine or whatever her name is. Zaphod is Biff and Eddie's the delorian. idk whats going on with Marvin.
the twist ending is that Random fails to get Arthur + Trillian to hook up, so in the future, Trillzaph + Fenforthur are canon. Random's like "how the fuck was i born then" and learns about . sperm bank <3 See this au is a perfect fit if you just see my vision
^^^ bonus teen fenchurch that i drew alongside teen arthur and trill
I would have drawn zaph biff (ziff?????) but my tablet hashtag died. also im still deciding whether zaph is human or alien in this au
#my art#h2g2#h2g2 au#hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy#back to the future#au#random dent#arthur dent#trillian astra#ford prefect#fenchurch
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Episode 5;
PLEASE NOT LORRAINE AGAIN I CANNOT WITH HER 🤣🤣
Ugh, Gloria 🙄 Forgot about her.
I'm really gonna need more Maddie and Athena scenes I kinda love the two of them together.
I wanna put Eva's head through a wall. Leave HenRen alone! (also for a hot minute thought Hen was gonna let her die but then I remembered she comes back later lmao)
Episode 6;
The pizza on the sofa PLEEEEASE 🤣🤣🤣🤣
I love how Maddie just walks off after asking if Chim has a kid 🤣
Ugh, Taylor this soon too? 🙄 (Though I have a soft spot for Buck/Taylor friendship fics)
Bobby talking about Brooke kills me 😭😭
Eddie in a tank top. Eddie in a tank top. Eddie IN A TANKTOP I'm drooling
YEA BOBBY WE DON'T LIKE TAYLOR KELLY (he might be the president of the We Hate Taylor Kelly Fanclub, let's be honest). What was your first clue to him not liking you? I WONDER
OH NO I DIDN'T RECOGNIZE BY THE EPISODE NAME THAT THIS IS THE BROWNIE EPISODE LMAAAAAAAAAO. "Teeny-Tiny" "So tiny" I CANNOT. Eddie crying while in handcuffs never fails to make me laugh
Oh Bobby. . .😭
I'm so excited for Madney!
FUCK YOU TAYLOR I HATE YOU D<
May already loves Bobby so much you can tell and it makes me so happy
#911 abc#evan buckley#eddie diaz#9-1-1#911#bobby nash#athena grant#michael grant#harry grant#may grant#fuck you taylor kelly#hen wilson#maddie buckley#chimney han
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THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY 24
stranger things
eddie munson x reader
rated e
5.6k
spotify playlist
for @punk-in-docs
fem/witch/goth!reader, sweetheart!eddie, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, blood, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, break-ups, running away, guns, fist fighting, everyone survives, tags will be updated as needed
Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird? Weird weird? He shrugged. He liked weird. In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.
note: Idk if the Cali group arrives in Hawkins on Saturday or Sunday. I'm going with Saturday. If that's wrong, well, this fic isn't canon compliant anyway. Also, Unnamed Freak (aka Dave) has a canon name now with Flight of Icarus: Dougie. I've corrected this entire fic on all platforms. If I've missed a "Dave" somewhere, please tell me. 🖤
24
The phone rang, jolting you from your research. On reflex, you stretched across the spread of opened spell books for the phone on the nightstand. Then you remembered you weren’t at home. You sat on the bed in one of Steve’s guestrooms.
When he didn’t ask you to answer the phone, you straightened and found where you’d left off. The ringing ceased, then Steve’s voice drifted through the open door. At one time, it would’ve been an annoyance. Now, it reminded you that you weren’t alone. You had people who knew you for who you were and weren’t wary of your abilities.
Last night, Robin had stayed through dinner and Back to the Future. Working at Family Video had its perks, because there was a waitlist to rent it. Robin and Steve had talked through the entire movie, asking about you and sharing about themselves, but you hadn’t minded. You learned that ‘Scoops’ was Scoops Ahoy, an ice cream parlor. It must be a Midwestern chain, because you’d never heard of it.
Robin bragged Steve had slung so much ice cream, they had to put in special orders. Steve shrugged, all bravado, yet his flushed cheeks belied his cool demeanor.
“You should’ve seen some of the girls who came in,” Robin had said, face reverent. “They must’ve come from Fort Wayne or Indy—”
Eyes wide, Steve had interrupted. “Yeah, they weren’t local, that’s for sure.”
You’d glanced at him, then at Robin. He’d tried to divert the conversation. Maybe to protect her? That had made no sense until you remembered you were in the Midwest, where homosexuality — or even bisexual tendencies — was anathema.
To Robin, you asked with a sly look: “That hot, huh?”
“God, I could barely keep eye con—” She curled her lips between her teeth, but rallied. “I mean, they were, like, super intimidating.”
You grinned with a minute shake of your head.
“No, I get it. Girls are hot.”
“Yeah…” she breathed, eyes going glassy. “Girls are hot.”
The conversation had paused as George confronted Biff on screen. When George and Lorraine walked away together, you’d reached for your drink and glimpsed Steve holding Robin’s hand. He noticed you noticing and opened his mouth to speak. You stopped him with an understanding look.
“So, is there a girl at school you like?” you’d asked before taking a sip.
Robin glanced at Steve, who’d offered an encouraging shrug. She’d smiled, giddy and love-struck, and gushed about Vickie. According to Robin, she looked like Molly Ringwald, but even cuter. Vickie was talented and funny and smart. Steve insisted Vickie was into her despite what they’d seen at The War Zone. Robin waved it away, saying Vickie had a boyfriend. It was a lost cause. She’d pine from afar.
You’d said, “Well, not necessarily. She could be bi.”
“I don’t know? It doesn’t seem likely.” She’d gnawed on her bottom lip. “I would normally say that’s ridiculous, because this is Hawkins, but—” She gestured at herself.
You’d narrowed your eyes playfully.
“You could still win fair maiden’s heart.”
Steve laughed. “You sound like Munson.”
“What can I say? He’s rubbed off on me.”
Robin had snorted. “Yeah, I bet that’s not the only thing he’s done.” You’d giggled even as your face heated. You grinned now thinking about it.
Knuckles rapped on the doorjamb. Steve stood in the doorway, the sleeves of his teal henley pushed up his forearms. His perfectly tousled hair framed his face, his jeans showed off the goods, and his Nikes were clean.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey, lookin’ good.”
He put a hand on the back of his head and looked down as if bashful. Like he didn’t know how handsome he was.
You asked, “Going somewhere?”
“Uh, yeah, that was Nance on the phone. She wants to donate some stuff at the school, and I offered her a lift. I think I’m going to volunteer while I’m there, too. You know, whatever they need.”
“That’s…” You first thought ‘surprising,’ but that was insulting. “That’s really generous of you.” You glanced at your suitcase overflowing with clean laundry. “Actually, I bet I have a few things someone else could use.”
“Oh, wow, sure.” He nodded. “You wanna come with?” He waggled a hand. “I mean, I know you’re not ready, but I was going to call Robin and Dustin. See if they wanna join.”
“I want to, but I can’t. I need to heal Lucas and Max.” You gestured to all the opened books. “That’s what I’m researching.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
He pointed at his left eye.
“Wouldn’t everything be a little easier if you had both?”
“Probably, but Max is worse than I am, so…” You looked at the books. “I can manage.”
He surprised you a second time when he said, “It’s hard to take that ‘put your own oxygen mask on first’ advice, but you should consider it.”
You met his earnest eyes.
“I will.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. You should be the guinea pig before you sprung a healing spell on Lucas or Max. While you were certain a healing spell would never harm, that didn’t mean it would be effective.
Marking your place in the book you’d been reading, you eased off the bed. You knelt in front of your suitcase to pick out a few pairs of socks, a free promo t-shirt you wore when cleaning, and a pair of tartan trousers you hadn’t worn since moving.
There was more at home you’d be happy to donate. You realized you could drop in after healing Max to pick up more — as long as your parents hadn’t returned.
When Steve stopped at your door, you handed over the clothes and told him of your plan. He brightened with a nod. You jokingly assured him not all your clothes were black and scary.
He lifted the stack of clothes.
“Just most of them.”
You laughed as he smiled at you.
He stepped back and said he was leaving, adding he’d leave the spare key on the foyer console. You thanked him and wished him luck before he skipped down the stairs.
As the front door snicked closed, you plucked the book from the bed and found a white tea-candle in your magic supplies. After placing both on the en-suite bathroom counter, you flipped on the light. With a deep inhale, you found your center. Time to be a guinea pig. You opened the book and lit the candle.
Holding your fingertips above the flame, you said, “Magic mend as candle burns; Affliction end and health returns.”
You brought your warmed fingers to the dark, tender bruise on your jaw and repeated the chant. Your skin heated almost to the point of pain. You closed your eyes to concentrate on the feeling. Tendrils of cooling energy twisted through your flesh. You shivered and breathed through it.
Once the tendrils dissipated, you opened your eyes and withdrew your fingers. The bruise was gone. You wiggled your jaw, then put pressure where the bruise had been to find it recovered. Like Jason had never punched you.
That was one injury — and the lesser of the two.
You slipped the pressure patch from your eye and examined your reflection. The cursed eye was like any other injury, you rationalized. Surgeons removed damaged bits of the eye all the time. You were no surgeon, of course. You weren’t removing damage; you were healing it. That was different.
You couldn’t psych yourself out, though. It was like making the Creel house go unnoticed on Thursday. Size didn’t matter. Hence, the extent of the injury didn’t matter. It was all the same and all connected. There was plenty of energy in the candle, in the spell, in the universe, and in you to heal this.
You took a few deep breaths before holding your fingertips above the flame and reciting the chant. You closed your eyes as warm energy gathered. You brought your fingers to your left eye, swallowed the mounting tension in your throat, and repeated the chant.
Your fingers went numb. Heat radiated from your eye like needles of fire. Lightning burned under your skin. The floor left your feet. Or your feet left the floor. You couldn’t find the counter. You couldn’t move or think or orient yourself.
You clawed at the dark like a panicked animal. Red flashed across your vision. Rotting vines slithered across every surface, growing thicker. Their musty, sour smell invaded your nose. Your heartbeat thundered through the room. Red flashed again. A figure made of sharp edges and pain moved behind the vines. You stepped back. They stepped back. You reached forward. They reached forward. You screamed at them. Their mouth opened as though mocking you.
You charged forward to thrust your hand between the vines. Your palm hit cold glass. You met the figure’s eyes. They were your own.
You stumbled away. Your back slammed into something hard. Each blink of your eyes tore you through different realities. The gray Upside Down, your sunny reality, glowing lava fields, a silent city made of slate, a world full of unvoiced secrets, neon lights and the scent of stale beer. Time curved in on itself. No future, no past. On and on it flowed until you yelled for it to stop, stop, stop.
The soft bathmat cushioned your calves. You held onto the counter edge with your forehead pressed against the wood cabinet. The side of your nose filled the left border of your vision.
The spell hadn’t worked.
“Shit.”
You hauled yourself to your knees and braced your elbows on the counter. Thin tracks of blood ran down your reflection’s left cheek.
“Shit.”
You stood and bent over the sink to examine closer in the mirror. The cursed eye didn’t look any worse. Its milky pupil and iris were the same as before. Rheumy blood flaked under your touch.
If the spell hadn’t worked for you, you doubted it would work for Max. She’d taken part of the curse, the same as you. Your eye wasn’t only injured. It stood to reason her arm wasn’t only broken. Then you remembered both her eyes looked like your left.
This was more complex than any healing spell could manage—
Which you said to Lucas after mending his swollen cheek and eye.
From behind him, Erica asked, “Can’t you kill this son of a bitch already?”
You glanced over her shoulder at Susan, who slept on the alcove couch.
“I don’t know if a spell would reach him.”
Lucas turned to Erica.
“And if she kills him, she could kill Max.”
You frowned.
“Why do you think that?”
“El said she couldn’t find Max,” he said, tapping his temple.
He’d explained when you’d first arrived the other members of the party were back in town. On Thursday, El had fought Vecna by connecting to Max’s mind, while Vecna was also connected to Max. El then said Vecna had roared in pain and disintegrated into smoke in his own mindscape. Nancy had connected that to her shooting him and Robin Molotov-ing him.
El had seen Max unconscious in Lucas’s arms afterwards. She felt Max’s steady heartbeat then. Max’s heart continued to beat, which the EKG confirmed. However, El entered Max’s mind this morning to find a void.
“You think she’s with Vecna?” you asked.
Erica said, “Or she’s brain-dead.”
Lucas’s face became a mask of absolute anguish.
“Harsh,” you said to her.
Erica shrugged in lieu of saying it was a possibility. It might be, but you didn’t want to give up hope just yet. Lucas returned to the bedside chair to page through The Talisman. There had to be something you could do or something you could offer.
Erica cursed under her breath and went to Susan. After Erica repeated Susan’s name and shook her shoulder numerous times, she woke with a grumble. Erica announced it was two o’clock. Susan blinked in sullen confusion. Erica said Susan had work at four.
Susan’s voice was hoarse when she said, “O-of course. Thank you.”
Erica backed away as Susan coughed with a wince and sat up. She sounded like shit. Her pallid face looked more tired than yesterday.
You asked, “Would you like some water?”
Her drowsy eyes settled on you.
“Oh, you’re back.” She couldn’t seem to muster a smile, but she looked pleased. “It’s good to see you.”
Without waiting for an answer, you went to the squat pitcher and disposable cups on the overbed table and poured her some cool water. Her hands trembled as she took the cup from you, but she managed drinking half the water in one go. That appeared to revive her, and you offered her more.
She nodded with a soft, “Yes, please.”
As you filled her cup, you thought of a quick blessing. She needed strength to see this situation through. For all you knew, she might be the key to bringing Max back, because despite what Erica said, you didn’t think Max was brain-dead.
By the time Susan finished the water, her green eyes had brightened. She stood, fluffed her hair, and straightened her rumpled clothes. She announced she was going back to the motel to shower and change before work, and if anything happened, to give her a call.
You, Lucas, and Erica promised. Susan nodded to herself and hooked her purse over her shoulder. She went to Max, righted one of her braids, and murmured something to her. She hesitated a second, taking a quick look around, before leaving the room.
You placed the pitcher on the overbed table and threw Susan’s cup in the bathroom wastebasket. The tense silence made you aware of every noise you made, from the swish of the wastebasket liner to the crinkle of your clothes and faint footsteps. Rhythmic squeaking of wheels came from the corridor.
Watching the EKG display, you thought of something you could do:
“I can look for Max, too. I don’t have El’s powers, of course, but Max and I, we’re connected.” You shook your head. “I… I might have a better chance of finding her or finding a clue to get her back.”
Lucas asked, “Are you sure?”
“What if Vecna’s got her, and he takes you?” Erica leaned her elbows on the overbed table. “Then we’re down a magic-user — and we need as many as we can get.”
“He can’t get me here. He tried before and he failed.”
“But you died.”
“And yet, here I am, talking to you.”
“Died.”
You threw out your hands. There was no arguing that fact. Yes, you had died. Yes, Vecna’s curse had killed you. Nevertheless, you were alive. Also, Vecna was wounded.
Lucas asked, “What’s your plan?”
“I don’t know? Connect with her somehow?”
You thought of psychometry. Through touch you’d seen Eddie’s past. Perhaps through touch you could see Max’s. If you could see when the curse hit her from her point of view, maybe that would show you how to get her back.
“Maybe I can’t communicate with her,” you said. “But I might be able to see how Vecna took her.”
“Then you could reverse his steps.”
“Something like that, sure.”
Lucas sighed in thought, tapping his fingers on the book. He came to a conclusion before looking at you.
“It’s worth a shot.”
Erica huffed in disapproval and retreated to the couch.
You propped a hip on the bed, facing Max. Her delicate fingers curled over the cast. You tucked your hand around them and closed your eye.
Unlike with Eddie, you didn’t have to tell Max to relax and trust you. You loosened your shoulders, breathing deep. You focused on her hand, the stillness of her fingers and the fine skin of her knuckles.
The room went cold. Ambient noise disappeared. The mattress sagged under your weight.
Max’s grip tightened.
You opened your eyes. The pressure patch was gone — as was Max’s cast. She stared at you through milky eyes in a younger face. Her now-smaller hand held fast to yours.
The world went wound-red and drained of life. Only you and she remained in the room. No leaves grew on the trees outside. A motionless, stormy sky hovered close. You were in a frozen, bloody version of your world, like a paused horror movie.
“I can’t sleep,” said Max.
“You’re sleeping in our world.”
“What? How?”
“This isn’t your world.”
“Am I dreaming?”
You hadn’t considered that. She could be dream-walking. If she were, why would she choose this? Why would she be younger?
You said, “I don’t know, but you need to leave this place.”
“You mean I need to wake up?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I can’t. I can’t switch back. I don’t know how.” She frowned. “Where’s El?”
“I don’t know.”
Instinct kept you from telling her El had been at the hospital to visit her earlier in the day. This younger Max could be an illusion. You could be talking to Vecna. Or Vecna could be listening.
“How did you get here?” you asked.
“I was fighting Vecna, and he threw me. Everything went dark.”
“And then?”
“And then I woke up in the goddamn Upside Down.”
You examined the room, noticing how much differed from what you’d seen through the tumbler.
“You sure this is the Upside Down?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s red, and where are the vines? The lightning? The demo-creatures?”
From nowhere, an invisible force pushed you backwards. Your foot skidded across the floor. You held onto Max’s hand. She bent forward to stay with you, then struggled to her knees. Your hip dropped off the crumbling mattress. You gripped the edge of the tattered sheets until they tore.
Her eyes widened as she shook her head.
“Don’t go!”
“I’m trying!”
But there was nothing to fight against.
You met her panicked gaze.
“We’ll find you! Wherever you are, we’ll find you!”
Your heel hit the floor. You lost your hold on Max’s hand. She screamed your name, crawling to the end of the bed. You pitched backwards, your heel the focal point. For a second, it felt like flying.
You landed hard on your side. Your ears rang. Like Dorothy landing in Oz, the world bloomed in technicolor. The pressure patch was back. Hands rolled you onto your back. Above you, Lucas and Erica blurred and sharpened. Their mouths moved, but their voices couldn’t overpower the ringing. You touched Lucas’s shoulder to confirm you’d returned.
The room dimmed. Shadows deepened. The three of you paused.
Red light flared through the window. Thunder vibrated the glass, restoring your hearing. You froze. You’d brought the Upside Down — or wherever you’d been — with you. Any second, those rotting vines would slither over the walls, the floor, Max’s bed.
Lucas helped you sit. Erica peered at the window on the other side of the bed. The clouds darkened further. When the vines didn’t appear, you used the bedframe to hoist yourself to your feet. Erica went to the window first, Lucas right behind her. You followed them, keeping to the shadows. You dared not look at any reflective surface, lest that sharp-edged figure look back.
Red lightning cut through the iron gray tower of smoke now spewing from the mega-gate’s nexus. Deafening thunder shook your bones. Warmth quaked in your gut a second later, silver and true. It filled the emptiness that had settled days ago.
-
Pitch black surrounded him. He lay on ice — or something like it. It curved around the back of his bare arms, cooled his body numb. So numb he couldn’t move. And he needed to move. There was work to do, someone to find, wrongs to right. Too much had gone wrong in the world. Too many injustices to name. He could make it right. He could help, gather, hunt.
Blood hung in the air. Screeches echoed through his mind, a hungry call for vengeance. Vines pulsed with wrath. The Source promised a righteous purpose larger than himself. The Source was a kindred soul: misunderstood, rejected, and enraged by the world’s hypocrisy. They were misfits together.
And there was no need to be frightened of anything anymore.
He searched the dark, his fingers not offering the answers he needed. He moved his legs and found the curve of the surface he lay on. Raising a foot, his toe bumped into something hard and smooth inches above. He let his heel fall as he walked his hands across the surface. He pulled it down his body. Whatever he was on moved instead.
He walked his hands above his head to find more of the same smooth surface. To his left were round protrusions, like bolts. Yes, he thought, bolts. Bolts meant hinges. Hinges were weak points.
More bolts were on the right. That was the hinge. The left was the handle. Handles were weak points, too.
He placed his palm on the handle bolts.
The Source said he could free himself. Something as mundane as this wouldn’t injure him.
He slammed the heel of his palm below the bolts. The handle rattled. He struck a second time. The handle whined. He struck again. The handle clanged in the background. He waited for someone to come investigate — police, a guard, even an assistant. He pushed the hatch open and waited a few minutes more. It was nominally brighter beyond, yet there was enough light to see he lay on a metal drawer.
He pulled himself through the portal. The drawer rumbled. Still, no one came. All around the portal were similar metal doors with chrome latch handles. He recognized it for the morgue it was.
He’d been dead. He was dead.
The Source contradicted the thought, saying everyone had mistaken him for dead. They’d not looked close enough. They’d abandoned him. They’d thrown him away. Only Source accepted him and had seen him for the valuable individual he’d always been.
He sat and scooted up the drawer to maneuver his legs out. The skin on his torso pulled. He looked down and gagged. Lines of black stitches or patches of missing flesh disfigured his chest and stomach. He touched the flap of skin on a patch on his right side. It should’ve hurt—
Nothing hurt.
He should’ve been cold. He’d been in a refrigerated box for who knows how long, but he wasn’t.
The Source assured him he was beyond pain.
His right calf and left thigh had been gnawed on, too. Someone had attempted to repair the damage with more black stitches. Those injuries didn’t pull like his torso.
That hardly mattered, though. He needed to leave— wherever the fuck he was. He needed clothes for that, because he was very, very naked. Making anything right usually required covering your ass.
He slipped off the drawer, landing on feet that didn’t feel like his own. His legs wobbled. Every wound protested as he straightened. The skin stretched little by little until he could stand.
A shelving unit stacked with linens stood by the main door. He found a scrub top and held it up. His bare hands felt as naked as the rest of him. That wasn’t how it should be. He only took off— No, he hadn’t taken off anything. He was supposed to see someone. They were waiting— No, no one was waiting for him. Everyone thought he was useless — and dead.
He was forgetting someone— No, they’d forgotten him. He touched his upper chest. Something should be there. They’d stolen something from him.
Yes, someone had taken something from them. He needed to find this person— No, wait for this person. They had an essential component in Source’s plan, and he had to capture it.
-
“Something’s changed,” you said.
“Uh, yeah,” said Lucas, pointing towards the window. “The Upside Down is invading Hawkins.”
You shook your head.
“No, I feel the pull of something.”
You didn’t want to say you felt the silver flame of Eddie’s energy for the first time in days. That sounded hokey even to yourself. If the emptiness — which had to have been Eddie — was filled, it meant Eddie was alive. You couldn’t desert him. You had to find him.
Erica said, “You can’t go now.”
Lucas nodded.
“The party doesn’t separate.”
“Even if it’s for a member of the party?”
“Who is it?”
“I think it’s Eddie.”
“What about Max?” he asked. “Did you find her?”
With a nod, you explained the paused, red world where Max couldn’t sleep. Max thought she was dreaming, but you weren’t sure it was her dream. You theorized it was an illusion to keep her stuck. There had to be something to get her unstuck. She wanted to switch back, but she didn’t know how.
“She exists in two worlds,” you said. “Her body in ours, her mind in another.”
“Or in Vecna’s mind.”
“We have to unite her,” said Erica.
“She asked where El was, but I didn’t tell her. Because I don’t know, and because I didn’t want Vecna finding out.” The pull of Eddie being alive nagged at your consciousness, and you shook your head. “Look, I can’t stay. I gotta find Eddie.” You grabbed your purse from where you’d left it by the door. “Guard Max. Hide her, if you have to.”
Erica and Lucas shared a look.
“We can do that,” he said.
You gave them a nod before leaving the room. Eddie’s energy drew you outside. Though you didn’t understand, you took the service stairs down. Hospital personnel pushed open doors and passed you on the stairs without questioning you.
While the first-floor corridors bustled with people and staff, a hushed tension overlaid every conversation. You swerved around anxious groups of two or three and the occasional thousand-yard-stare loner.
Outside, the scent of smoke and hot ozone had your eyes near burning and your nose on the verge of running. Ash fell like snow from the low ceiling of the clouds. It disappeared when it touched your skin.
You brought your shirt collar over your nose, then crossed the parking lot to your car. You stowed your purse in the trunk and pocketed the keys. There, you hesitated. If Eddie wasn’t in the hospital, he could be anywhere. Perhaps Wayne had identified him and took him to another hospital. However, there wasn’t another hospital in Hawkins. Maybe he was at a doctor’s office. His wounds might’ve looked worse than they were. That didn’t explain his absence from Indra’s net or his reappearance, though.
You turned to the path that led through the trees at the back of the parking lot. Except for funeral homes, only the hospital and coroner’s office could store dead bodies. If Eddie was in a funeral home, word about it would’ve been everywhere by now.
His energy wasn’t far, yet it was muddled, like poor reception on a TV. You tried getting more of a read on him. Pain lit your nerves, making you back off. You pressed your shirt over the bridge of your nose and breathed deep.
Fine, you thought. The coroner’s office it is.
You had to get yourself worked up. An injured girl near tears could get sympathetic assistance and soothing information. You made your breath shallow and rapid as you marched across the parking lot. You brought to mind every stressor: your father rejecting your every idea, being a stranger in this town, Vecna disfiguring your face after stealing your magic, making mistake after mistake and not finding the strength to get over it or fix it, finding Eddie and losing him all in one night.
Tears rimmed your eyes as you walked under the coroner’s office awning. You righted your shirt and pushed at the door. It clanked in its frame.
“What the hell?”
You caught your breath. Maybe you had to pull it. You tried that, earning another clank.
It was locked. Still.
That was complete bullshit.
Your tears evaporated as you grit your teeth. You would not be kept from him any longer. It didn’t matter if he was alive, dead, or undead. You would see Eddie.
You placed a palm over the deadbolt.
“You are undone,” you whispered to it.
Its screws unwound and fell to the floor. The outside cover tumbled off. The interior mechanism flicked open and teetered in the hole. You encouraged it to drop with a jab.
You swiped the cover from the sidewalk before entering the building. Inside, you gathered the deadbolt pieces and dumped them in a potted plant in the dim waiting room. You went to the empty check-in counter to find the area beyond it vacated and dark, save for the blinking lights of the desk phone.
Heavy footsteps echoed behind the reinforced door to your left. With nowhere to run, you put on an innocent expression and curled your shoulders inward. A guard in fatigues tore back the door while another rushed into the waiting room, guns in hand.
“Hands up!” said the closest guard as the door closed behind them.
You raised your hands as your gaze bounced from one to the other. They both had black armbands with MP decorating the side. Military police. Your hunch yesterday about the Humvees had been correct.
“How did you get in here?”
“The front door?” You glanced at it. “The lock’s gone.”
“State your business.”
“I can’t find my-my parents.” You didn’t have to force any nervousness with two guns pointed at you. “They’re not at the hospital. And… and-and the ER told me to check he-here.”
The MPs scowled.
A frenzy of banging and clanging came from behind the door. The MPs turned from you with guns at the ready. You took a step back, heart in your throat.
What were they keeping back there?
The door flew off its hinges, springing off the linoleum by its corner. It ricocheted and crashed into an MP, who toppled to the floor. The door landed to cover his top half. His gun skidded into the waiting room.
“Back away!” yelled the remaining MP. “Hands up!”
You turned your attention away from the gun, thinking he yelled at you. Rather, his attention was on the person in the doorway.
You almost didn’t believe your eyes. You’d expected a demogorgon or some other sort of hellish creature. It was neither. It was Eddie. Unmistakable, even backlit by the severe hallway light. His usually wild hair hung limp around his face. Green scrubs had replaced his clothes.
Eddie hissed at the MP and stomped onto the collapsed door. The MP underneath bleated in protest.
If he kept on like this, he was going to be shot.
“Eddie?”
He turned his focus on you, his blank expression so unlike himself.
The MP shouted, “I said, hands up!”
Eddie’s eyes had you taking another step back. They were like your left: cursed. His skin was waxen like the dead. A tag hung from his big toe. You didn’t know who this was, but he wasn’t your Eddie. He felt like him, looked like him, had his silver flame, but he wasn’t Eddie.
The door was less than a yard away. You could make it out before anyone would reach you. Once outside, you could dash to your car — or lead Eddie away from the hospital.
You pivoted on one foot. A cold body plowed into yours. Hands grabbed your upper arms. The check-in counter dug into your back. Eddie reared up over you.
He’d moved too fast to be natural. In comparison, the MP turned in slow motion.
Eddie pulled the pressure patch down your face.
With a pleased look, he said, “Ah, I see you’re half ours already.”
His breath smelled of old blood.
“Eddie, don’t.”
“Don’t what? Have you join us?”
He leaned in to drag his nose over your cheek, inhaling as he went. You closed your eyes and pinched your mouth shut. His dry, cracked lips skipped up your cheek.
“Pretty, pretty witch.”
“Show me your hands,” ordered the MP.
“Should I let him shoot me?” Eddie asked you.
“Don’t shoot,” you called over his shoulder. “He’s… He’s not hurting me.”
Eddie hummed in your ear. “Take me to Max.”
You couldn’t let him get his hands on her. He’d take her to Vecna. If Vecna had you, Max, and Eddie — all cursed in one manner or another — it would be a recipe for destruction. He’d drain you like a vampire, sacrifice Eddie, and use Max as a pawn. Or maybe something even worse. You couldn’t let any of that happen.
You arched away to look into Eddie’s cursed eyes, so much like your own. You’d tear Vecna limb from limb for this. Apart from El, only you had power enough to destroy him. And you could with the Eradix spell you’d found on Thursday.
“Step away from the girl!”
Eddie snarled and turned his head like a predator. He released your arms before you could protest. You reached for his shirt to keep him with you. Your fingers grasped air.
A triple pop of gunfire had you hunching and covering your head. The waiting room window shattered. A gust of smoke and ash poured into the building. Boots shuffled across the floor. The MP grunted as something clattered.
You wanted to look, make sure Eddie hadn’t been shot, but you needed to get out of there. A wet gurgle and grind turned your stomach. You scurried to the main door, pulling it open. Wind dragged the door from your hand. It thudded against the wall.
With a flinch, you peeked over your shoulder. Eddie stared back. Blood dripped down his chin. The MP hung slack from his hands.
Everything narrowed.
Then everything sharpened as you steadied the main door and sprinted to the street.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#stranger things#em tagd#waywardrose writes
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