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fairyysoup · 6 months ago

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it will come back

part one

a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)

pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader

summary: You don’t go into the woods. You don’t talk to strangers. And you don’t, under any circumstances, approach a wolf. Unless one shows up bleeding at your door.

cw: dark themes, mature content, animal cruelty, animal death mention, gunshots, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, suggestive themes, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter, eventual smut (in later parts)

a/n: hiiiiiiii :) so remember when i said i'd stop posting fic on tumblr? well one mental breakdown later i decided that was literally making me miserable and ruining my hobby! so i'm back. it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me <3 this is a reupload

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

There are things they tell you about the woods from the time you are born, weaning you on them just the same as you are weaned on milk. Don’t go into the woods on a full moon. Don’t talk to strange men. Likewise, if you see a strange man alone in the pines on the full moon, run and don’t look back. And don’t, for any reason, approach a wolf at any time. They’ll kill you before you turn the other cheek.

In your twenty-some-odd years, you have never seen a wolf. You’ve heard them howling, distantly, so deep in the forest that you don’t even feel the need to be frightened by it. They exist in there, somewhere, going about their business as wolves do.

Sometimes you hear about the wolves wandering into town. Old Mr. Thatch, from just over the creek, said his pigs were slaughtered in the night. He’ll have to spend a fortune to get a few more. Torben Plack from the end of Warder’s Row saw one drinking from the horse trough outside the inn last month.

There are whispers of wolves when a baby is missing from its crib. There are whispers of murder in the night. There are accusations that some of the townsfolk themselves are wolves in disguise.

Nonsense, the lot of it. Or, that’s what you believe. That’s what you choose to think about it– even though you’ve been told time and again that a pretty girl doesn’t think, a pretty girl believes and does what she’s told. She doesn’t go into the woods. She does her chores and she says her prayers and she marries a boy with a healthy income and lives quietly, rearing children until she can’t anymore.

(You don’t believe that, either.)

You don’t have the luxury of making any other choices, though. You are a servant, a milkmaid in the employ of a rather cold Master– you have no time for philosophy or discerning what you do and don’t believe about the local folklore.

You milk the cow. You chop the firewood. You feed the chickens. You harvest the cabbage and you don’t complain. You sleep on your bed in your shack– or, servant’s quarters– behind the grand house and you don’t, under any circumstances, question the Master or his wife. You wash the bedsheets after he sloppily takes his wife to bed, and you try to hide your disgust.

You usually do what you’re told. Usually.

On a night when the moon hangs round and full in the sky, lighting the stretch of land beyond your small shack in a milky blue haze, you’re building a small fire in the fireplace when you hear it. The howling. It’s so much closer than you’ve ever heard it, almost as though the wolves are just beyond the treeline that backs up to your master’s land.

You pay it no mind. Normally, the wolves are on the hunt for something– small animals that titter through the woods, unassuming until it’s too late. The howling will be distant soon, and you’ll be able to sleep soundly while the rest of the town frets about the dangers of the wolf-men, locking their windows and bolstering their doors.

Just as you thought, the howls drift away slowly. You snuggle down into the covers of your bed, and you barely flinch when Mr. Thatch fires off a pistol over the creek, ringing through the dead night louder than hell. These things mean little to you. You’re more interested in what the land of dreams holds for you tonight– it’s one of the only reprieves you get from your long days of work.

It isn’t until ten minutes later, when you are mere inches from sleep, that you hear a soft whining outside your cabin door. At first, you think it’s the wind. Then, when it gets louder, you wonder if you’re imagining it.

And when it turns into a soft howling, well. That’s not your imagination.

You wrap a woven blanket around your shoulders and leave the door open when you step out into the chilly night. You don’t have a candle– you could always knick one from the Mistress, but that might risk getting caught, and you don’t love that idea. So, you contend with the little amount of light that spills out of the open door from your small fireplace, and you squint into the dark toward the source of the sound.

It takes shape in the form of a wolf. A big one, covered in black fur and curled up beneath the gabled roof, as though attempting to make itself smaller. It shivers and whimpers miserably, tucking its paws close to its body.

You shrink back in the doorway, drawing your blanket closer around your shoulders. The hum of crickets in the bushes and in the grass across the pasture covers the shakiness of your rapid breathing. You don’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly be expected to bother the Master this late at night– even if it is a wolf, the barn is shut up and the animals are safe. You’d probably be expected to just stay put in your little cabin and wait for it to go away on its own. Maybe in the morning the Master will find it and skin it for the Mistress’s bedquilt.

The image makes you shudder. This poor thing– even if it is nearly as big as you, even if it’s a nasty predator in the eyes of everyone else– is clearly looking for some sort of reprieve. Just the same as you do at the end of the day. You can’t let it be skinned alive just for searching for safety.

“Hey,” you whisper softly, and you know the creature hears you, because it flinches badly. Almost as though it may bolt away in a panic. “No, no… don’t be frightened.”

You lower yourself down towards the ground, tentatively inching forward as the creature turns its head to blink up at you. Water brims its dark eyes, sparkling in the low light from your open door. Streaks of tears flatten the fur on its snout; the wretched thing lets out a noise like a sob, hanging its head like it doesn’t have the energy to stand you off.

“I’ve never seen a wolf cry before,” you tell it quietly. You’ve never seen a wolf, period, but you don’t need to tell it that. You’re not sure that it can understand you, anyways, but you keep talking like it can. “Are you hurt?”

The wolf snorts, sneezes loudly, and then trembles. There’s a high pitched whining, a heart-shattering noise that cuts deep into your chest as the beast cowers away from you. The whine turns into a low growl when you move a bit closer, but it doesn’t sound like it really means business. More like it doesn’t know what to do with your closeness.

“Hey,” you say again, more insistently. You inch your way forward, crouched low to the ground, holding your blanket around you with one hand as you reach the other out toward it. You’ve never tried to approach a wolf. You don’t know if it’s similar to trying to gain a domesticated dog’s trust– hold out your hand, let it catch your scent. Show it that you mean no harm, allow it to come to you. “I’m trying to help you, okay? Let me help.”

The wolf growls for a moment longer before finally relenting, and reaching its head forward to sniff curiously at your hand. You don’t know what you expect– perhaps that it would drop its head again, or back away cautiously. Instead, the wolf surprises you by pushing its head into your outstretched palm like a sad puppy.

“Oh,” you coo, stroking the wolf’s soft head as it trembles. Its ears twitch against your fingers, and it snuffles a few times, its body shaking with each, like an all-too-human fit of sobbing. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you inside.”

Again, it’s a shot in the dark. You back slowly away from the creature, whose watery eyes blink up at you, and then you stand, and open the cabin door wider. The wolf doesn’t move, still continuing to shake with its uneven breathing.

You take a step into the door, and watch as the wolf slowly struggles up out of its cowering position. On all four legs, it seems to be favoring its right front leg, lifting its left paw limply upward. When you take another step back into the cabin, and it follows, it shudders a breath and limps badly on its left leg.

“Good job, honey,” you tell the wolf gently as it tentatively follows you into the cabin.

You don’t know whether to leave the door open or to shut it; you’re not sure if there’s any wisdom in shutting yourself in close quarters with a wild animal, but you also don’t want the Master to find it come morning. You suck your teeth and swing the door shut, quietly latching it and hoping the damned thing doesn’t suddenly decide it’s too hungry.

You turn, and take two steps before dropping to your knees in front of the fireplace, where the most light hits the ground. You drop your blanket to the floor, and pat your lap as you look at the creature shivering a few feet away. “C’mere. Lay down.”

As far as you know, wolves don’t normally lay down and play lapdog for strange humans, but this one does. You wonder at it, remarkable in its size and beauty, as it flops down tiredly onto your floor and rests its head in your lap. Through your cotton chemise, the wolf’s chin is warmer than the heat of the fire.

You pet the wolf’s head again gently as you examine its left leg. It doesn’t seem to have any major wounds except for a spot of wetness on the side of it. When you lift it, the wolf in your lap whines loudly.

“I know, baby,” you coo at it, trying to pet its head as soothingly as you can while you look over the mangled leg and paw. Through the fur and dirt, you see a patch of pink skin matted with bright red, and your own hand comes away smeared with blood. There is a bad gash, enough to still be bleeding.

You don’t want to jostle the animal now that it’s relatively comfortable, so you bend backwards and sideways to reach the cup of water on the shelf at your bedside. It’s what you have on hand to clean the wound– you suppose you could sneak into the grand house to steal some soap, but just the same as the candle, you’d rather not risk it. You take your time in pouring cool, clean water on the wolf’s wound, rubbing dirt and blood away from the gash. In your lap, the beast huffs softly in response.

“I don’t know what you’re doing out of the woods,” you tell it as you tenderly clean its wound, expecting that you’re only speaking to settle your own nerves, “but you ought not to come around here too often. The men here are bloodthirsty. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”

The wolf heaves a sigh. For what it’s worth, you take that as some sort of acknowledgement.

“I can’t do much else for you besides this,” you continue softly. The wound is clean now, the fur gone wet enough that you can pull it aside and peer at the gash itself. It’s quite deep, straight, and slices from the middle of its leg upward at a diagonal. It continues to ooze even as you examine it, painting your fingers red. You tip a little more water onto it.

You grab one corner of the blanket you’d used to wrap yourself, and rip a strip off along the grain. The light pink fabric looks almost comical when you wrap it around the wolf’s leg, tying it and tucking the tails in gently so that it won’t fall off too easily. You figure, eventually, the damn thing will come off while the wolf goes off on its merry way. You don’t delude yourself into thinking you’ve got a pet, now.

“I wish I could give you more,” you tell the beast, petting your hand down its mane, feeling the silken fur slide through your fingers like the plushest finery that you’ll never be able to enjoy for yourself. “But, I suppose, you can rest here tonight. If you promise to stay polite.”

The wolf doesn’t fuss when you slide a stiff pillow under its chin, and slip back under the covers of your bed. You gaze at it, curled up in a big black mass on your floor in front of the hearth, and you wonder why on earth a wild animal would be so well behaved.

You wonder how a wolf is capable of crying.

You wake in the early morning light expecting to find a big black wolf sleeping in front of your hearth. Instead, when you rouse and rub the sleep from your eyes, you find that the wolf is gone.

In fact, there appears to have been no wolf at all. No blood on the floor, no black fur on the pillow that has inexplicably reappeared on the foot of your bed. Your water cup is full. And the door to your cabin is latched, just the same as it had been last night, after you let the wolf in.

By all appearances, nothing happened last night. There was no wolf. You half expect that you dreamed the entire thing. And you would continue to believe so– but, the end of your pink woven blanket is still torn, missing a strip from the end, frayed along the grain.

You slip from your bed and fling open the door to your shack, emerging into the cool morning air. You look down at the nook beside the door where the wolf had huddled in the dark, seeking shelter away from harm. There is nothing there to suggest that it had been there last night.

But you know it to be true. You know it.

How could a wolf, a four legged creature with full use of only three of them, manage to unlatch your door, step out, and then relatch it from the other side? How could your water magically refill itself? It’s a mile to the well in the town square, and it’s not like the wolf could have done it.

Broken from your thoughts, you hear a shriek of your name. You lift your head to see your Mistress, fully dressed, feeding the chickens. The daily chores have already begun.

“What are you doing outside in your underclothes?!” your Mistress yells, flinging grain down at the birds. “Go inside and dress yourself this instant, you wretch! And begin your morning duties!”

You jump, darting back behind the door. You hadn’t thought anyone would be out yet. “Sorry, Mistress!”

You rush to grab your stays from the end of your bed. You’ll pay for that one, you think.

There are a million reasons why you prefer doing your chores out of the house.

One, the Mistress isn’t around to rag on you over every little thing. Two, you don’t have to be watching over your shoulder to make sure you aren’t in the Master’s way. And three, you can take all the time you want to do other things as well, as long as you get done before dinner has to be served.

Your skirt is filthy, but it’s a beautiful day, and the creek that separates your Master’s land from Mr. Thatch’s land is babbling quite a bit, and it makes doing the washing up much easier than it otherwise would be. Which you’re happy about, since your arm is so badly welted you can barely curl your fingers.

You sniffle and lift your apron to wipe your nose. Then you wring out the Mistress’s petticoat– of which there are far too many for one woman to reasonably have– you whine at the strain on your injured hand, and you move to the basket of other soiled clothes. You think about blowing your nose in the Master’s linen shirt, and you’re about two seconds from doing it, too, when you hear a splash nearby.

“Shit,” says a man’s voice. There are a couple more splashes around the bend, and then yelps, and then there’s one enormous splash, and a laugh.

“Hello?” you call, trying to peer around the bank of overgrowth beside you. Then, there’s a cacophonous amount of splashing, which makes you screw up your face, and a man emerges from around the bank of greenery.

You pause, holding your Master’s laundry in your hands over the water like you’re wondering whether to dip it in or not. Really, you’re just shocked to see a strange man on your Master’s property at all. He’s out of breath, rosy cheeked and soaking wet from the chest down.

“Um,” is all you can say.

“Hello there,” the man says with a rakish grin that flashes sharp teeth at you. You blink a few times, just to make sure he’s really there. And when you do satisfy yourself with the fact that, yes, he’s very real, you then have to acclimate yourself to the idea that he’s also absolutely beautiful.

His very pretty face is framed by long, dark hair, and his eyes are strikingly dark. There’s something on his skin peeking out of the open collar of his burgundy blouse, but to look at that from this distance means to look at the way his shirt clings to his body, and then his trousers, and if you weren’t already struck dumb, now you are.

“How– how are you– um.” You wave your hands around, gesturing to the general area around you. “Whatareyoudoinghere?”

“I think I was going for a swim, of sorts,” the man laughs, holding one arm out a bit to indicate his damp appearance.

“Who are you?”

“Now, there’s a question for the ages.” The man tromps forward through the water, splashing along gracelessly and with exaggerated steps, like he’s trying to make you laugh. “Generally speaking, no one really cares who I am, just what I want.”

“Okay,” you snap, irritated by the man’s jovial attitude and his need to speak in riddles. “What do you want? Why are you on this land? What business do you have here, and with whom?”

“Whoa, hey–” the man holds up his hands, and grimaces like it’s painful to do so. Then he recovers with a flashy smile. “I don’t mean you any harm, princess. I have no business anywhere, I was just following the creek and seeing where it leads. Guess the time got away from me.”

“I’m not a princess,” you grumble back at him.

He tilts his head, his smile lingering as he looks at you. “Just an expression, no need to be nasty.”

You scowl down at your master’s clothes, and then plunge them into the water like they personally offended you. “Following the creek from where?” He points his thumb over his shoulder, towards the trees. “You came from the woods?”

“Thereabouts.”

You squint up at him. “What’s your name?”

“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows dramatically and takes another step towards you. “And may I ask who you are? Or shall I just call you ‘My Lovely Lady of the Creek,’ for time immemorial?”

You tell him your name flatly, and turn your face away as he gets closer, suddenly very invested in getting sweat stains out of your Master’s linen blouse using a cake of lye soap. “You should know not to go into those woods alone. There’s wolves.”

“Oh, I think I can handle myself in the woods, sweetheart.” Eddie smirks down at you. “Anyways, who wants to be in the trees on a day like this?”

You grunt. You don’t think the man will be going away anytime soon, which is bad news for you, because the closer he gets, the more inclined you are to look at him. Then, you’re more inclined to talk, and you’ve already been punished once today. You don’t think you could handle another.

The man, Eddie, sits himself down on a large rock jutting out of the water next to you. He watches you for a moment, scrubbing with one hand at the cloth on the board in the water, and then he points down at your arm. His billowing sleeve flashes red in your peripheral vision, along with the silver of the rings on his hand.

“What happened here?” he asks softly, his voice losing its humorous tone.

You look down at the welted skin. It stings, but the cold water numbs the pain just a bit. Now that he’s brought your attention back to it, your eyes prick with tears again, and you sniff. “My Mistress caught me outdoors in my chemise.”

“She should count herself lucky. It’s a sight to behold.”

“What?” You blink up at him. From this angle, him looming over you on a boulder, the sun rings his head in gold like a halo. “How would you know?”

“I’m… supposing.” Eddie bites his lip, staring off to the side for a moment, as if suddenly at a loss for the right words to say. “You’re a very… beautiful girl. I can only imagine.”

“That’s forward of you.”

“Besides, it doesn’t answer my question,” he rushes out. He scowls back down at your arm. “What did that to you?”

You heave a sigh. “Well, the Mistress told my Master. And the Master is very heavy handed with a cane.” A small sob constricts your throat for a moment, tears pricking your eyes again so badly that you have to stop working and close them. Your sinuses burn from the effort of holding it in.

“You were beaten because you went outside without a petticoat?” Eddie remarks incredulously, “That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, I… I was also late to start my chores,” you admit in a wobbly voice. “So I suppose I got off easier than most would…”

“It’s cruel. I’d love to see how he would take it, if the tables were turned.” Eddie’s dark eyes flash dangerously when you look up at him; there’s something in the set of his jaw and the steely expression on his face that makes you think of the growling wolf last night. After a moment, he softens towards you again. “Why were you late to your chores?”

“I…” you trail off. You think about telling him about the wolf, but you wonder if he’s the kind of person who will go into town and yell about the wolves trying to steal women in the night, and you could do without the embarrassment. “I had a nightmare. Slept too late.”

Eddie clicks his tongue and rocks backward a bit. “A nightmare,” he repeats, considering the word like it’s a part of life’s philosophy. “What about?”

You don’t respond for a few moments. You’ve moved on to washing a pillowcase now, which is significantly less soiled than your Master’s blouse. “Why do you care?”

“I care because I hate to see My Lovely Lady of the Creek in distress. Even if she is completely vexed by the sight of me,” He says lightly, as you tilt your head down to hide the way your cheeks burn. He reaches up his right hand and produces a silver coin from behind your ear. You stare at it in puzzlement as he hands it to you. “What was your nightmare about?”

You hesitate just a moment before taking the silver coin. “Is this bribery?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie announces with a wry smile. “For your thoughts.”

You sigh. You could use the coin, you’ll admit. Maybe you could buy yourself a new robe, or a loaf of bread from the baker, or any other of the myriad things you’re in want of.

You tuck the coin down the front of your bodice, where it slides down and gets stuck between your ribcage and your chemise. Eddie’s eyes follow the path that it takes between your breasts with a hungry glint in them.

“There was a wolf,” you tell him quietly, going back to your work. “It came to my door bleeding. I brought it inside and nursed it. But when I woke, there wasn’t a wolf. It was just a nightmare.”

“Oh,” Eddie hums amusedly. “I wouldn’t call that a nightmare. I’d rather call it a dream.”

“A dream?” you echo with a scoff.

“Yes. A lovely dream, with a heroine and a lonely beast in need of kindness.” He leans towards you, his hands on his knees. “But, you know what they say about wild things.”

You huff with indignance, but humor him, because you’re curious in spite of yourself. “I don’t know. What do they say?”

“You shouldn’t show them kindness,” he whispers, so close to your ear that you can feel his breath on your neck. “They’ll keep coming back for more.”

You startle, standing up with a noisy splash of water as you yank the last of the laundry from the creek. There’s a flush under your bodice that you don’t like, sticking to the coin that’s going hot against your skin as you think about it even being there. That it was produced by his hand. The more you think about it, the more you imagine it as an extension of his body, touching you just beneath your breast.

Eddie snickers to himself as you hurriedly, shakily, smack the last piece of laundry into the basket with the rest, and pick up the washboard from the water. With a frustrated huff, you stand and rest the basket of laundry on your hip. You gaze out across the creek, and then away towards the trees, and finally, when you’re sure you can form words, you turn back to him.

“Goodbye, Mr. Munson,” you say stiffly, so that you don’t trip over your own tongue. It comes out icily as a result, and you turn away to hide the way that you blush.

“Until we meet again.” Eddie presses his lips together, as though he’s stifling a laugh. Then he says, in a slightly bossy tone, “Take care of that arm for me, princess. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”

You whirl around to ask him to repeat that– what the hell did you just say?– but when you do, the man is already gone. Along with any trace of his presence by the creekside.

Except, the coin he bought your dream with still grows warm against the heat of your skin, under your bodice.

#teaser for what's coming. if you even care #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #werewolf!eddie munson #werewolf!eddie munson x reader #stranger things #werewolf!eddie #roses*

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the-nosy-neighbor · 2 months ago

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Toys in the Catalog

I had mentioned Eddie looking at his number and being "stretched thin" so I thought I'd put together all of the catalog images and see if the numbers mean anything to me.

Starting here. Poppy looks dead eyed in this image, while the others have very happy faces. You can't say it is the toy, necessarily, since the others look happy. She seems to have a paper tail and paper feathers on her head. Her feet are super cute.

If you haven't seen one of these, this is how it works. More of a science toy than anything. This one is a bit scarier looking.

Poppy is the same price as Eddie, while the others are a bit higher. I can envision how these toys work by the design. Super cool designs.

We've looked at this a couple of times. Eddie appears to be checking out his price. Wally and Frank pillows are quite a bit more expensive than the other toys. Is this framing them as the most popular? They are more than an entire jack-in-the-box. Barnaby I have mentioned before, because it is another bisected Barn. I think we will see him in pieces before this is over.

This is framed as gifts for your home, like Wally was looking at for Home. The cuckoo clock here is home, and is featured prominently in Eddie's breakdown in Commercials. As we watch Eddie unravel, we see an above view of the clock (and I haven't found anything else in that image, not for a lack of trying) as well as a straight on view, which shows the clock moving, but not smoothly or in time. It starts and stops, pauses longer than you think it should. This says that Wally pops out instead of a cuckoo, though Poppy might have been more traditional. We don't get to see Wally come out of the clock.

The clock reads 3:30. I don't see anything that would designate day or night. This is quite a bit more than most things, because it's a complex clock.

Then we have a tea set, which seems to be the big image it is giving us about Poppy. Doilies and tea. Over and over. We will have to remember. Wally does tap his tea cup at Poppy's in a hidden video. Still trying to figure it out, but they keep showing it to us.

Finally, a tree skirt. It's expensive, but those things always are. I love the design, and all the neighbors. We see this design in a video or still somewhere else, maybe? I will keep an eye out. This features all the neighbors as gingerbread men as well as has cut outs of their symbols. I think it is odd that Home is by Eddie and not Wally, but maybe they are mixing it up.

Final page, with records. On the holiday records: one for $5.89 or all for $15.89. There are five records below on this page and it says "continued on next page," so that is not all. All of the records that we have seen so far are here. A was in the exhibit, as well as the first ad with the missing item. We saw B in the exhibit, and it was on the record player on the Merchandise page; it plays the Alice in Wonderland bit. C is Halloween, D was some of the earliest merch, and E is mentioned, but we are told that we have part of the audio, not the full record. Generally, when it says that, we shouldn't trust it. Something to consider.

Presumably, there are more records. The records are Marlo.

The price on these seem pretty standard and in line with the rest of the catalog. The single and Painting with Wally are cheaper, we assume because it is a shorter album. On the pricing generally, we are seeing a lot of ".89" but I assume this is for the same reason things are priced at the upper end, to be smaller than a dollar increase while practically being at the next dollar amount. Eddie and Poppy's toys are the only ones at $1.89. Given that they are both bullied characters, I wouldn't be surprised if there was some kind of connection there.

One thing I didn't mention, is that Marlo is listed on this page, but it isn't elsewhere. I think I mentioned during a post on "Commercials" that there is a different company for those toys. Pretty sure Marlo did these records and the phones, at least. The other company is named "The You-Won't-Believe-It Company." They did the Wally Ball And Cup. They have other items in the video, I think. I noticed and wondered if there was something going on there, because we have only seen Marlo so far.

#welcome home #welcome home theories #welcome home arg #eddie dear #wally darling

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stevebabey · 2 years ago

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ok brain whipped up this concept & would NOT leave it alone today so here. have this. this is like ‘started making it. had a breakdown. bon appétit’ in a steddie post for me but alas <3 cw: talks of past sexual coercion

Eddie is mad at Steve.

Which, honestly, might be the worst thing in the entire damn world for all Steve cares. The whole world feels just a little bit off kilter when Eddie’s mad at Steve — because Eddie just loooves the silent treatment.

He’ll usually make a show of it. Pout and stick out his bottom lip, cross his arms, maybe even give a stamp on his big booted feet. Doesn’t say what’s wrong, just glares sulkily. It’s a bit childish, they both know, but Eddie likes to be doted and Steve loves to do the doting — and it hasn’t caused any proper fights yet.

This time, however, he can tell Eddie is more mad than usual, because this time he hadn’t thrown the usual fuss. Instead, he’d just gone quiet. All glowers and glares. Not even a pout, and certainly not a peep.

And it’s just the worst because the version of Eddie that Steve knows best is a chatterbox. Can’t shut up, won’t shut up. Steve normally loves it.

And alright— maybe Steve deserved it for not picking him up after one of Eddie’s gigs. Especially because Eddie had specifically asked him too as well, considering his own van was in the shop.

But it’s not like Steve could control when his parents decided to waltz back into Hawkins!

They always seemed to run on their own timetable, or on what seemed like an entirely different orbit. Yet, they had no trouble roping Steve back into their routine, stuffing him back into a place, without any regard to his opinion on the matter. Which was exactly what they had done that evening.

But that didn’t really matter, Steve thinks with a sigh, because he knows it’s not really just because he didn’t pick Eddie up. It was because of what Steve said.

Gareth’s mom had swung by and while Eddie had gotten an eyeful of that suspicious look that followed him everywhere since the events of the Upside Down, Eddie had gotten home safely. Majorly annoyed but safe which was what mattered most.

He had then released his said-annoyance onto Steve.

But see, Steve was already tired from the prodding and lecturing of his parents. They’d been awfully disappointed to find he had yet to move on from his job at Family Video and worse, had badmouthed his choice of friends. Had brought up Tommy and the likes, asked pointedly why Steve hadn’t been seen with them in a few months.

Steve had bit his tongue to not spew out the fact he hadn’t been seen with Tommy for years and that was unlikely to change any time soon.

So, yeah, he was wound up. And Eddie was too. A bit too impatient, a bit too cut that he’d been on the receiving end of yet another scathing interaction because Steve had been so careless to forget to pick him up.

He’d said as much, jabbing a finger and dramatically reenacting the tense conversation he’d had to have with Gareth’s mother.

It had led to a spat, which led to an argument. Steve sat on the bed in Eddie’s trailer and toyed with a loose thread as Eddie pacing before him.

“You should’ve been there.”

“I know.” Steve ground out the words, eyes on the floor, feeling too much like he was still back home, still being lectured by his father about his good-for-nothing son. The thread was coming looser in his fingers with all his fiddling.

“You know? Is that all you’re gonna say?” Eddie asked, exasperated, but the moment Steve’s lip part to respond, Eddie had steamrolled on. Gareth’s awkward smile and his mother’s tight bunched up shoulders were still fresh in his memory.

“Great! That’s just fantastic, Steve. You knew and you still didn’t show up!”

Steve’s head shot up, brow furrowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

Like a kettle coming to boil, Steve could feel some bitchy comment lurch up his throat with his growing frustration. It was easy to think of things to say to hurt Eddie, to lash out, to make it so Eddie was the one with his head bowed, voice quiet.

Steve had learned that the hard part in these moments, is biting his tongue. Swallowing back mean comments. He doesn’t want to be vicious. Loathes the idea of falling back on snarky comments to win a fight, least of all with his boyfriend.

But... old habits die hard.

So, when Eddie had got all up in his face, firing himself up, and said, “Oh, pray tell then Steve what was so important that made you fucking forget your boyfriend.”

Steve had snapped.

“Fuck, do you ever stop? You are so much sometimes!”

The words had flown out in a harsh sneer and they hit their mark exactly as intended.

Because Steve knew all about that strange bubble of fear that lives inside Eddie— the part that didn’t care at all what strangers thought of him, but cared so much about those he came to trust. The part that worried that being big and brash all the time would be too much for people. That the reason they originally liked Eddie, would become the same reason they’d eventually dislike him for.

Steve had once told him he couldn’t ever get enough of him— let alone too much. It’s why he’d known where to strike.

Eddie’s expression has flinched, his eyes going from simmering to hurt in a few seconds flat. His fists unclenched at his side and Steve had felt the regret curdling up in his gut, a terrible sour feeling that had him shooting to his feet in an instant.

“Eddie, wait, I—”

“Leave.” Eddie said, voice dangerously low. There wasn’t room to push it. Nothing left to argue.

But still, Steve had wavered, swaying as a tidal wave of shame burned hot up his neck. He wanted to fix it. He needed to fix this.

But Eddie couldn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the ground and despite how much it had pained Steve to go, he knew he couldn’t fix it, not then and there. The door had hit him on the way out.

That had been two whole days ago. The guilt of it makes it feel like it was hours ago, still fresh as ever.

Steve had been diligent in giving Eddie his space to cool off.

The call Steve made the morning after never got picked up, just rang endlessly until the voicemail kicked in. Even though Eddie was always home Wednesdays. It told Steve well enough that Eddie was still well and truly mad.

Which was fair enough. Steve had been an asshole. Let himself fall back on old habits and stab a weak spot he only knew because Eddie trusted him, then twisted the knife as well.

But it’s like he said — silent treatment from the guy who usually can’t keep quiet is discerning to say the least. It itches uncomfortably at Steve who finds himself unusually eager to apologise.

Because, damn, if Steve doesn’t hate apologising.

Apologising means pulling out the stops, means admitting shamefully everything you’d done wrong, means having to prove how sorry you were.

It had been like that living under his father. When he was seven, Tommy had accidentally pitched a baseball through one of the windows. It had smashed right through, completely shattered. Steve had taken the fall.

He’d said sorry, head bowed, even though it had been an accident. And after he’d made Steve repeat his apology til it was a rigid phrase in his mouth, Richard Harrington had said; ‘Well, why don’t you prove how sorry you are, Steven?’

He’d ended up being his father’s personal beer boy for that week. Fetching them ice-cold from the garage at his father’s every call, from the moment he was home from school, to prove the apology was legitimate.

It had worked— after a week of doting, extra effort into keeping his room clean and to keep his father happy, Richard had permitted his son a rare smile and ruffle of his hair. ‘See? I know you were sorry now.’

Steve had learnt quickly in his childhood to go to lengths to avoid trouble with his father. To avoid the tumultuous apologies he’d have to perform, jumping through hoop after hoop for forgiveness.

But even then, Steve couldn’t escape them with friends, and especially not with girlfriends.

Tilly had been like that too. She’d been Steve’s freshman girlfriend, eyeshadow baby blue and lips always glossy. When Steve did things she didn’t like —spent Saturdays with his other friends, was late to dates— she’d pout her glittery lips and bat her eyes. ‘Aren’t you gonna make it up to me?’

Steve had — had pulled out the stops, emptied his pocket change to buy her flowers, went to second base because she really wanted him to, all to prove his apology. Until Tilly was back to her sugary smiles and fluttering hazel eyes.

It had even been like that with Nancy, though not quite to that extent. Forking out his savings to buy the nicest bouquet he could find, prepared to make it up to her, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was him who was supposed to be apologising. But she’d gone silent treatment on him, so…

So, Steve hates apologising— but even more than that, is how much he hates Eddie’s quiet. So, when his boyfriend calls the Family Video on Friday midday, when he knows Steve’s soloing, and invites him over, Steve prepares himself for the grovelling to come.

The mixtape he’d already made sits in the gearbox of his car, carried around with him since he finished it. Upon hanging up the phone, Steve’s eyes catch on the florist across the street. His mind spins with all his knowledge of Eddie’s favourites — should he get those sour candies Eddie loved so much as well?Would it be too much?

Steve scoffs at the irony of his worries, considering what he was apologising for. Besides, it was never too much. There were never enough things to show he was sorry.

And Eddie couldn’t exactly be bought — not that was what this was. But Steve knew his boyfriend preferred all things in the manner of touch. That Steve’s affection was a far higher currency than anything bought with money.

That’s fine. Steve can do that.

He’s got a whole speech planned, honest. The smudged bullet points scrawled on his palm are testament to that, there to keep him on track and Steve checks them over religiously as he drives over after his shift.

It all goes out the window when Eddie opens the door, because Steve’s heart hiccups, splutters, soars forward in his chest.

Eddie looks just the same, his usual ripped jeans and dark shirt with a band Steve doesn’t know and yet— yet.

Steve is overcome by how much he missed Eddie.

Overcome at how those two days felt like two weeks to him. His mouth opens and the words burst out, “I’m sorry.”

part two.

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ladykailitha · 2 months ago

Text

Icarus Part 20

Damn guys, wow! Twenty chapters in. Shit. Wow. We've only got five chapters to go.

Hey, remember that breakdown that Steve feared was coming? Yeah it's in this chapter. Just not the person anyone thought it would be. Also Steve learns to lean on the people who love him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

Steve was nervous. He was rarely nervous on stage, but this was special. Eddie had written a duet version of one Corroded Coffin’s songs and Abbadon was going to feature. So when The Fallen left and Corroded Coffin came on, the first song would be the new duet.

Apparently Gareth had been badgering Eddie to include it in the set list since before the whole rehab stint. But that was around the time Steve and he got together and felt it was too close to the mark to sing it on stage like that.

But somehow the three other members had convinced him and Eddie in turn had managed to convince The Fallen, both bands managers, and their tech guys to let them do it in Denver.

The Fallen finished their encore and they huddled together as Corroded Coffin’s equipment was set up.

Then it was time, with all the lights off Abbadon went to stand in the middle of the stage, directly in front Gareth’s stage where his kit was. The spotlights came on, first highlighting Gareth, then Brian, Jeff, and then Eddie.

Abbadon stood in the darkness, microphone in hand, head hung between his shoulders.

This was the moment. The moment Steve had spent his whole adult life dreaming about. On stage with Corroded Coffin to sing with Eddie. His only regret that it was as Abbadon and not himself. But damn, he’d be fool to turn down the opportunity and he knew it.

Eddie started in on guitar; the sweet, slow build up of one of their greatest hits. “Run, Lover Boy, Run.”

But when the first verse started it wasn’t the gravelly growl of Eddie Munson, but the haunting tenor of Abbadon.

“When I see you there,

Standing with your friends,

I have to stop and stare,

Because, baby I know how this ends...”

Finally Abbadon was lit by a pale blue light, making the white of his costume seem ghost like and eerie. He raised his head and the lace mask made him even more beautiful. He walked toward the front of the stage slowly as he joined Eddie front and center.

To say the crowd went wild would have been an understatement. The Fallen fans were freaking out and screaming and crying. The Corroded Coffin fans roared their approval as Abbadon’s voice lent the song a melancholy vibe.

Eddie sang the second verse and then they joined in together for the chorus. Abbadon leaned in close, their spotlights blending together.

“Run, Lover Boy, Run,

Don’t you know,

You were only a little bit of fun

Run, Lover Boy, Run

You were looking for love,

Can’t you see we’re done?”

Abbadon knew he should have moved back for the next verse, but somehow he found himself draped over Eddie. Even though the song was about being used by a guy he thought he could trust but was only looking for a hookup and not something more serious. He just couldn't move away.

Eddie had a white knuckle grip on his guitar, playing his hardest and singing about heartbreak. Abbadon’s microphone was at his side as he shared Eddie’s. He had even turned it off to avoid feedback.

They were so close that any closer they would have been making out over the microphone. But the thing that really tipped things over the edge was when the final verse came, Abbadon sunk to his knees and belted it out. So from a certain perspective it looked as though he was grinding against Eddie leg.

The crowd went absolutely feral. There was screaming, crying, and apparently in two extreme cases, fainting.

He wasn’t.

Steve wanted to make that clear. He wasn’t grinding against Eddie’s leg. To both their management and the media. Because, yeah he saw the video the fans uploaded and it was very suspect, but his other fans had his back. They posted the view from the other side of the stadium where he was just a few feet away from the lead singer, on his knees, his free hand clenched in a fist.

But oh boy did fuel rumors about Abbadon and Eddie in ways that made Steve’s skin crawl. It was a good thing they had two days before they got to Vegas for Steve to hide in their trailer.

“Steve!” Robin as Robin called out, banging on the door. “Come on, Steve, you can’t hide in there forever!”

Eddie had tried. Chrissy had tried. Hell, even Vickie gave it a go. But Steve refused to budge. Shane let out a sigh after Simon and Spence were both sent away as well.

“Let me try,” he said softly.

They all cleared out to let Shane have a go. He sat down on the steps to the trailer and leaned his head against the door.

“Hey, Steve,” he muttered. “You don’t have to come out, but I’m gonna start talking and maybe you’ll decide to do that on your own.”

He was met with silence. Which was already a step up from the shouts to go away. So he started talking.

“I worry about us as friends, all of us,” he said, strained. “Simon keeps turning down women who are generally into him because he thinks they’re only into him because of what we do. But there have been some real good ones. One that wanted to get to know him, but he just shuts them down. I worry about his attachment to you. I know he’s straight. I’ve hit on him before... before you I guess. Back when we were just some idiots in a cafe who didn’t know what life was.”

He let out a watery chuckle. “But I’ve also seen girls flirt with him as a roadie and he still thinks it’s because of what he does rather than wanting him for he who is. He’s a good guy. He’s one of the best. But he doesn’t seem to want to be better.”

Shane looked up at the clear blue sky and let out a shuddering breath. He hung his head.

“Spence doesn’t want to go out anymore,” he continued, his voice quaking with the feeling of loss. “All he wants to do is spend all his time talking to Nadia. The only time he goes out is as someone else and that can’t be healthy either.”

He ran his fingers through his tight red curls, gripping them at the base and pulling. His hands shook with the effort and the emotions.

“I just came out as gay and I’m frightened by it all,” Shane said. “My parents are supportive. Because of course they are. But I can tell the difference in people from the way they used to look at me and how they look at me now. I was going to teach middle school, Steve. I was going to teach world history to teenagers. But this changed everything.”

There was a soft thud behind him and he figured it was Steve sitting on the floor in front of the door.

“But of all us,” he whispered through his tears, “I worry about you the most. You think you have to be strong for everyone else. You came out with me and I’m getting more support than you are. Yeah, you have a good support system. I wouldn’t have allowed you to come out otherwise, twin. But this moment that blew up in your face, shouldn’t have.”

He lifted his head up and let the tears continue to stream down his face. “It should have been a moment of pure joy and it turned into an embarrassment. You’ll forever look back at the first time you sang with shame. And you shouldn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were incandescent. You lit up that stage and it was beautiful.”

The door to the trailer opened a crack and instantly Shane was on his feet. He opened the door all the way and slipped inside, closing it tightly behind him. Sitting in the dark on the floor not far from the door was a very disheveled Steve. It looked like he hadn’t slept in awhile. They all traveled together, but Steve had taken to locking people out until it was time to get on the road again.

“Hey, twin,” Shane muttered as he moved to sit next to him on the floor.

Steve snorted. They looked nothing alike but by some twist of fate they had been born on the same day, year and all. Steve was older by like seven hours. So Shane had taken to calling him twin when no one else was around.

“Hey,” he whispered. “I hate making people worry about me.”

Shane bumped their shoulders together. “Well that’s too damn bad, Steve. Because you don’t get to make that choice for other people.”

Steve out a shuddering breath. “It’s not even the fallout of people thinking I was grinding against him that bothers me the most.”

“Yeah?” Shane asked with a huff. “What is?”

“That I wanted to.” Steve buried his head in his hands. “I wanted to touch him, kiss him, hell even fuck him on that stage. But I knew that if I wavered for even a fucking second the backlash would be, oh so much worse.”

Shane looked at him for a moment. “No it wouldn’t.” Steve’s head whipped around to face him. “Steve...you hang off me and Simon all the time. You flirt with the audience. All the photo shoots of you are in sexy poses. Shit, man. You wouldn’t be doing anything different than a half a dozen heterosexual bands have done on stage.”

Steve thought about it for a moment. And Shane was right. A famous rockstar humped a massive blown up dick on stage and no one thought twice about that. At least none that weren’t going to be pearl clutching about it in the first place.

“Oh,” he whispered. “Fuck.”

“I think you should play up into more if I’m honest,” Shane huffed. “You’re out as bisexual. Play into the stereotype of being a slut. The people who know you, know you’re with Eddie and monogamous, but those people,” he pointed out of the trailer, “the ones that don’t matter? Soak up all that attention and feed on it.”

Steve’s eyes lit up and a slow smile spread out over his face. Pictures started forming in his head. He thought about how his persona was already the opposite of him in real life. He thought about the thrill he got when he saw the photos of him online from the angle that made it look risque. He thought about how he wanted to play up into flirting with Eddie on stage.

“Can you get the rest of the band in here with Robin and Eddie and Vickie if you can get her too?”

Shane’s answering grin was all he needed to know. Shane got to his feet and within minutes everyone was huddled together in the trailer and Steve explained his idea.

Vickie smiled wickedly. “I think it’s a brilliant idea and if Eddie’s on board with it I’d be happy to lean into that.”

Eddie sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I think what might make it easier so people don’t focus on me is if I get the rest of the Corroded Coffin boys in on it too. That way if Steve as Abbadon is seen flirting with the whole band it’ll come off as being a flirt and not that there’s something specific between Abbadon and I.”

“I like that,” Simon agreed. “Abbadon is already all over Astraeus and Asmodeus so flirting with Jeff and Brian as well as Eddie that would play up into the slut allegations.”

Steve laughed and then shared a knowing smile with Robin. Yep. Simon might be shy about most things but when it came to Steve... that was a whole other kettle of fish.

“We’ll do another duet tonight,” Eddie said, nodding. “Have Abbadon start Gareth’s lap or something.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Spence said, “but don’t lock us out next time. You’re there for us. It’s time you let us be there for you. Okay?”

Steve let out a low shuddering breath. “Yeah, okay.”

They all came up and gave Steve huge hugs before they piled out of the trailer again, leaving behind Shane and Eddie.

“Thanks for getting him to come out of his shell,” Eddie said to Shane. “I didn’t know what to say because it’s always been apart of my contract that I was out and loud.” He stood up and gave Steve a sweet kiss on the mouth before he, too, went back outside.

“You going to be okay, Steve?” Shane asked, moving to sit next to him on the sofa. Well futon technically, but semantics.

Steve looked up at his friend. “I worry about you, too.” Shane let out a an aborted laugh. “I know you’re frightened of being out, but I know you’ve been coming back from partying all hours of the night and sometimes day. Spence and Simon sleep like fucking logs and snore just like sawing them. But I hear you.”

Shane buried his head in his hands for a moment before running his fingers down his face. “I’ll tell you what, twin. I’ll cut back on the partying, if accept our help. And not just some of the time. Come to us for help and I’ll keep the partying to a minimum.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Just take Spence out with you and we’ll call it a deal.”

He reached out his hand and shook it. “Deal.”

Tag List: CLOSED

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar au #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar steve harrington

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could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler · 24 days ago

Text

As someone who took a hiatus from wrestling for a couple of years and has recently come back to it, I just wanted to share how much of a shock the current wrestling scene was for me. Breaking this down by individual wrestlers:

1) Cody Rhodes: male model who went crazy after he thought he was disfigured —> actual Captain America/Homelander

2) Drew McIntyre: Scottish guy who is just kinda there, a bit of a loser —> holy crap, he’s a major player now? And he’s apparently this obsessed crazy person who wants CM Punk dead?

3) CM Punk: best in the world, the company rebel —> not much has changed, except he’s now an oldhead who is vibing in the WWE space. He’s like that cool old guy who always has a story to tell about his younger days.

4) Rey Mysterio: the guy who does really cool tricks, but is sadly always getting injured —> he’s beefing with his son? And now he’s leading the Latino version of NWO?

5) Dominik Mysterio: Rey’s son, a NPC in the WWE universe —> biggest asshole ever, fuck this guy (not serious, I mean storyline-wise), 2nd coming of Eddie Guerrero

6) Triple H: Undertaker’s greatest enemy, the last of the old guard —> the best WWE storyteller in the last couple of years?

7) Michael Cole: annoying heel commentator —> really good face commentator

8) John Cena: All Might in his prime —> All Might in the present day, retiring and giving out wise advice to the younger wrestlers

9) Christian: Edge’s best friend, just kinda there in the WWE space —> AEW’s biggest menace

10) Kofi Kingston: the guy who does cool stunts at Royal Rumble, doesn’t really get to do much else —> was part of a nerd trio that took off in popularity, actually got to see his comedic chops

11) R-Truth: going through a mental breakdown after several years of being a rapper —> he somehow turned into Deadpool (of the people on this list, this is the most logical character development so far lol)

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mvltisstuff · 1 year ago

Note

Eddie Diaz x female reader

Eddie and reader are childhood sweethearts and have been engaged for 4 years with their wedding is in a few months, reader is also a firefighter with the 118 & also maddie’s best friend. Reader is also close friends with Ravi and Buck. Reader is walking home one night alone after collecting food for Chris and Eddie when she gets mugged and attacked and left for dead in an alleyway, she has multiple injuries such as a gunshot or stab wound, dislocated shoulder, dislocated knee, broken arm along with cuts and bruises to her face. Someone finds her and she ends up in the hospital in a coma, eddie has a breakdown in the hospital and Chris also visits reader crying. Reader wakes up and panics about the wedding as she needs physical therapy on her knee that was injured, worried that she won’t be able to walk down the isle to Eddie, she has a panic attack and everything goes wrong. Maddie tries to help her through it. You can decide on the rest. 🩶🩶

sorry this is so long😅🥲

hope you’re doing well and having a great summer ❤️‍🩹🤍 xx

let the light in - e.d

summary: request

eddie diaz x reader

gif from @housewifebuck

a/n: this request is from quite some time ago, but it’s been in the drafts for too long! i apologize and hope you enjoy <3 also this is not proofread btw 😭

each hit to her body ricocheted through her muscles, feeling the marks and scars form on her skin. it was a foreign feeling, one of fear and pain. y/n was helpless on the ground of the alley, and there was nothing she could do.

her heartbeat thumped in her ears, and she was horrified that she might not even look the same, let alone be the same. she faces things like this every single day, saving someone’s life but she could barely manage to save her own.

she only wanted to bring home food for chris and eddie, her beloved ones who instantly became her family. she was almost like a mother to christopher, and he was connected to her as she was always there for him.

the moment eddie proposed to y/n, he knew that there would be no hesitation. he had never felt this way about a woman before, let alone want to live with her until their hair turned grey. every single part of y/n left eddie enamored, just falling for her all over again. her persistence and attitude was nothing but precious to him, and he couldn’t help but love every part of her.

he waited for her to come home, knowing that she would be stopping at the grocery store. it was late, the sky dark and the streets only illuminated by the street lamps. he knows how tough she is, and she’d be ok. so, he patiently waited at home with his son, the worries in the far back of his head.

as y/n’s body was dragged about and penetrated with sharpness, all she could think about was her fiancé and stepson at home. the two people she loves most in this world. it was so hard not to give up and let these criminals take her life, but she knew neither of them could deal with her life being stripped away.

let alone the 118. bucks been her best friend since day one, being the first supporter of her and eddie’s relationship. he completely adores her and her humor, along with her strong work ethic. ravi has always looked up to her from the moment he stepped into the station on his first day. she assisted him and taught him with kindness, but didn’t go easy on him. she’s the reason that ravi is the firefighter he is, and he idolizes her for that, in and out of work. hen and chimney have been alongside her, running into each building and saving a civilian. she was almost too good to be true, and the people who attacked her had no idea.

the men heard the crumbling of rocks underneath tires, and scurried away into the midnight. y/n was left there to rot, laying on the hard ground and feeling herself bleed out. her entire body was in agony, but it was nothing compared to the thought of losing herself.

her weak fingers traveled to her pockets, taking out her phone with a shattered screen. surprisingly, the group wasn’t smart enough to steal it, and she thanked god for it. her blurry vision was tempting her, minutes away from fading into complete darkness. her mind was shrouded with negativity, but a flicker of hope came in when she heard maddies voice on the other side of the phone.

“maddie.” y/n groans, practically inaudible. maddie freezes at the letters of her name leave this woman’s mouth, being strictly confused but also horrified. “y/n.”

the slightly collection of blood in her mouth made the words jumble together, maddie using every ounce of brain power to put the pieces together.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t-“ the light goes off in maddies brain, finally being able to put the letters together, forming y/n’s name. “y/n?” she hears a painful groan of agreement from the muffled earpiece. “can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“they tried to kill me,” y/n informs her, slowing her breathing but it only makes her head spin faster. her eyes are closed, fighting the unconsciousness that’s begging to take over. “maddie, i’m not gonna be able to stay awake, but… i-i’m somewhere near the interchange.”

“y/n, honey, you have to try and stay awake for me, okay?” maddie begs, her eyes filling with moisture as she hears y/n’s small voice come through the phone in stutters. “y/n?” the phone lands over her torso, beginning to be stained with blood as y/n’s mind is shrouded in black, unable to process anything any longer.

eddie sat in the living room with christopher, watching a show for chris to practice his spanish. they were both invested in the plot, but also trying to expose christopher to the language.

eddie adored nights like this with his son. christopher is his sun, and his world revolves around him. he protects christopher with every ounce of his being, and there’s not a moment where he regrets any of it. the room was dimmed, the wick of the candle radiating a sweet smell as the words on the tv came through.

there was excitement in his mind as well, knowing y/n would be home soon to greet them. her alluring smile would be seen the moment she stepped in the door, and her bewitching voice became music to the boys. instead, when he heard others car doors slam, he was confronted with silence from his front door afterwards.

the next 15 minutes passed slowly but surely, and there were no signs of y/n coming home. he checked his phone only to find no messages or calls. his thoughts began to run through everything that could’ve happened, and he attempted to focus on the brighter ones. he finally heard the knock on the door, the pounding coming off assertive. somehow, he still wanted to find optimism and it could’ve been y/n.

when the door swung open, a burly man who was slightly taller than eddie stood in front of him. he had on a jacket with the LAPD, and eddie’s heart fell at the look on his face. it was blank on the outside, but eddie could tell he was here to deliver something horrid. he listened as the officer deeply uttered his first and last name, christopher lifting his head to the door at the unfamiliar voice.

in this line of work, eddie knew exactly why the man was here. “where is she?” eddie’s voice crackles, showing weakness when he’s so used to being strong.

the ride to the hospital was silent, deafening silence that only turned up the volume on eddie’s fears. the chugged through his head like a train on tracks, and he could barely see straight. he had absolutely no idea what to expect, only knowing that his girl was in the hospital. for all he could know, she could be wide awake or she could be in the morgue.

it felt like someone had grasped his heart, restricting him from breathing as he saw the almost empty waiting room. he desperately looked for anyone, finally landing his eyes on maddie.

“maddie!” he shouts, stomping over to her in anxiety. “what the hell happened?”

“i got a call,” maddie told him, her voice shaky and uncertain. “i could barely even tell who it was -her voice was so different- she told me that they tried to… they tried to kill her.” maddie mumbles the last part out, not wanting to imagine her closest friend’s life being taken.

the room started becoming blurry, all sights and sounds around eddie becoming irrelevant. it felt like he was the only person in the room, and someone from above was pointing and laughing at him. it was like a gunshot, being thrown back at the sudden force, or in this case, the sudden news that someone had attempted murder on y/n.

“i called buck, he’s on his way,” maddie says, fidgeting with her hands as she looks into eddie’s distant eyes. “eddie, sit down-“

“what room is she in?”

“i don’t know if you want to see her like this so fa-“

“maddie, i love you like a sister, but if you don’t tell me what room she’s in, i swear…”

“she’s in 319,” and that was the last thing eddie heard before taking wide steps through the hallways, his feet swiftly carrying him through the hospital as he eyes the door numbers. 316, 317, 318, and the one that held y/n inside. he prepared himself for the worst, but nothing could compare to actually seeing it.

each cut on her face was surrounded by a thick bruise disguising her angelic features. her soft, welcoming expression was replaced with discomfort and tightness. her eyes were tired and screwed shut, begging to remain closed and her lips were tightly coiled around the thick tube down her throat. the mechanical breaths pumped through her body, and eddie only hurt himself more with every step he took to her room.

she heard the thumping of footsteps down the hall, and prayed that it was eddie on his way to save her. she wanted him to just pick her up and they could run away, live their life and forget about all that happened that evening. she wanted to smile, but the look on his face was only disappointing.

his face looked as if someone had landed a punch to his gut, leaving his stomach dropping and shakiness building through his hands. he could barely figure out the words to say. his beautiful girl, the one he lays with at night and the one who kisses him with her soft lips. the one who he cries to and laughs with, and someone tried to steal it.

she had a long, white cast over her leg, being slightly elevated in the bed. he could see the bandages all over her body, and the thick wrap of gauze around her belly. he didn’t have any idea what to say, and it brought eddie back to the former years.

before he and y/n dated, shannon had passed away as eddie watched the life leave her eyes. he felt everything, the guilt, the grief, the anger. it took too long for things to return, but he never, ever wanted to experience that again. he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t manage to push through losing y/n.

y/n wanted to move so bad, she used all fibers of her muscles to try and bring herself up to meet eddie, but she was only met with his frozen figure staring down at her own. someone had put chains on her body, restricting her from moving or speaking, let alone open her eyes. she wanted to be caught while she was falling, but was just left dangling in the air without a hand to grab onto. just by the aura eddie reflects, she knew he was there.

he stepped closer, running his smooth fingers down her rough wounds, brushing her silky hair down. the hissing of her intubation flooded the silent room, realizing that it’s the only thing keeping her alive.

the door had remained open, the doctor entering the room and knocking on the open door. he stepped out and stood in front of the bed, carrying binders and charts in his arms. he looked through them, explaining each familiar term to eddie as he went down the list of y/n’s injuries. the doctor knew eddie well, him returning to the hospital to drop off a patient, or god forbid a patient himself. he let eddie sit alone next to her in the room, watching the very small movements of her chest.

the next person came rushing in, much faster than the doctor had. buck swung the door open, maddie trailing behind him in hesitation to see her friend like this.

“jesus,” buck whispers under his breath, stepping closer to eddie who’s elbows kneel on his knees. “you holding up?”

“i’m fine,” eddie tells his friend, fully aware he’s far from it. his eyes wander down to the ring in maddies hand, the one eddie remembers shining in the little box. it’s been years, but with their schedules, they could never find a date. they found their perfect venue and time, and y/n was so excited. now, it was questioned whether or not she would even make it to their wedding.

“i’ll call her family and take care of stuff for her and work,” buck assists, patting eddie’s shoulder before moving back out of the room with his cell phone. maddie takes this opportunity to step closer to eddie, and try to touch his heart to help ease the pain.

“you need to eat, or walk for a bit, eddie.” maddie tells him, lightly throwing her arms up and receiving zero glances from him. when she notices the distance in his eyes, she knows exactly what he needs. “eddie!”

he perks up, looking into maddies soothing eyes and seeing her begin to walk toward the door. “she’ll be ok for a minute, please just come with me.” she pleads, finally achieving to get eddie out of the uncomfortable hospital chair.

eddie follows maddie through the halls like he’s just a kid, letting his mother lead him through. it was a strange feeling, one that was out of his control. the control that he’s so used to having. maddie sauntered casually through the thick white walls and metal stretchers in the halls. she looked up and down the stretch of area, seeing no nurses or doctors. she swung open the storage closet, yanking eddie in and standing in front of the door. she leaned against it, looking into eddie’s exhausted eyes. they were so close to breaking, and maybe that’s exactly what he needed.

“it’s ok to let yourself take a break.” maddie says to eddie, watching him place his hands on his hips and allow his tired eyes to well up. “do whatever you have to. scream, cry, lay on the ground, throw those lap pads. it’s clear as day that you’re about to fall apart and you can’t carry this weight and be there for her at the same time.”

he spun around, spitting out a dry chuckle and losing the eye contact. he couldn’t face it, he couldn’t handle someone watching him look so weak. however, when maddie turned around, he knew that she was safe, and that he was too.

first, his breathing starts to pick up along with the sharp burning in his nostrils. it was as if the gears of an attack started turning, and eddie knew now that there was nothing to stop them.

his hands began to shake, messily frizzing his gelled hair as his fingers ran through it. his already tightened chest had began to feel like it was being crushed, and someone was wrapping their strong fingers around his heart.

the tears started coming in constant streams down his cheeks, leaving shiny residue on the soft skin. he tasted the salty cries on his lips whenever he took a deep inhale. with a strange sensation, there’s a feeling of lightness throughout his body. he knows too well that y/n remains helpless in the other room, but he also knows that he can’t control it.

in such a simply way, eddie cries. he cries for his son, who he knows is going to be completely shredded by the news of y/n’s condition. he cries for her parents, thinking about someone’s little girl in that bed. he cries for himself, watching his beloved fiancé lose herself. of course, he cries for y/n and how everything she loves has vanished due to the villains in this world.

when maddie turns back around, eddie is hunched over with his head in his hands. his fingers aggressively swipe at his eyes and cheeks, trying to rid any signs of upset in his face. maddie gives him the smallest, but the most reassuring smile that he’s gotten in a while. she opens the door, stepping out and they both walk back to y/n’s room.

eddie didn’t want christopher to see y/n so vulnerable like this. y/n had been a role model to chris since the day he met her, becoming an instant prized person in his life. christopher knew y/n was hurt, buck being the one to break the news as eddie physically couldn’t form the words. a few days had passed, and christopher still had not seen y/n, or barely even known what happened. someone did something bad, and that’s the only thing he could handle hearing.

christopher begged to see y/n to his dad, who tried to hide the situation from him as long as possible. he allowed eventually, becoming aware of the unfairness, and that christopher deserves to see favorite person, too.

buck walked into the doors with christopher, eddie meeting them at the front. eddie had become more accustomed to the sight of y/n on the bed, and her limp figure resting silently. he couldn’t help but let out a cheesy grin at his son, seeing him excitedly walk in to see y/n.

“dad!” he shouts, stepping closer to eddie who then embraces him.

“hey, chris!” he replies, thrilled to see his boy after the past few days from hell.

“is y/n better yet?” he asks, and the naivety almost breaks eddie.

“uh, not yet, buddy,” eddie mumbles. “she’s still sleeping.”

“can i please see her?”

“you can, of course, but christopher,” eddie kneels down to match his height, placing his hands on christopher’s sides. “i want you to know that she doesn’t look normal right now. it’s okay to be scared.”

“are you scared?”

eddie looks at the ground, not wanting his son to see him in his moment of weakness. he looks at buck, who wears the matching expression of glumness on his face. “yeah, i am. but, it’s going to be ok.” he takes christopher to the room, greeting everyone else who came to visit her.

hen leans against the wall of the room, toward the end of her bed. chim sits against the window, a grimace formed on his lips. ravi had come to visit, only being able to watch y/n on the small mattress. bobby watched, painfully, from the corner as well. athena had stopped by, but she was still on duty and had to leave.

christopher walked in, stepping up toward the bed and seeing a smile form on everyone’s face. they adore him, but he doesn’t understand how they can smile right now. “can she hear me?”

“i think she can,” hen replies, giving another grieving, but comforting expression

“y/n,” he begins. “i know you’re really hurt, but we all need you to come back. it’s not your fault, but you have to come back to us, and dad. everyone is here for you, and we all love you. you’ve always taken care of me, and i need you. you can’t let the bad guys win.”

eddie leans against the doorframe, his hand over his mouth and tears sprinting back down his face. he attempts to choke back the audible sobs, but the silent weeping in the corner almost felt worse.

the days passed, slow and agonizing days of seeing her only linear condition. it felt like nothing was going anywhere, until the doctors came in to check her on the week mark.

“her brain function is looking pretty good, it’s honestly best that the coma saved some of it. her heart rate looks extraordinary, and her white blood cell count is good, mr. diaz.”

the good news comes light as a feather to eddie, barely touching the optimism in his head. he knows he should be happy, but until he sees that beautiful face that he calls his awake and alert, nothing will be the same. he knew he should be grateful that she’s even breathing, but what he would give to be able to bring her back to the surface and hold his hand.

as much as it stung his heart, life continued without y/n’s consciousness. he had a child who had needs, a family who had needs, the person inside of him that also had needs. he was too smart to know that he was destroying himself every minute that he spent next to her brittle body. maddie swore to spend every second with her that eddie couldn’t be.

she sat besides her, spoke to her, told her stories and read her books. maddie always let y/n cry on her shoulder, now it was maddie weeping on her bedside. hours ticked by on the shiny hospital clocks, and the sun crept down and dimmed the sky along with the room. maddies eyes were pushed with weight, her own sleepiness covering her thoughts. she allowed herself to slump back on the chair, pulling her legs up and her breathing began to shallow, lulling herself to sleep.

the next time she awoke was around six in the morning, the morning sky slowly being illuminated by the orange sunrise. the light outside was glorious, the painting on the horizon better than any artist could create. the swift streaks of clouds only simply covered the sliver of sun peeking out.

when maddie stretched out her arms, she smiled at the warm colors outside the big glass window, she searched around the room, noticing the soft sound of fabric shuffling on the bed.

it was almost like a ghost had appeared and laid in the bed, moving itself around over the sheets. maddie directed her eyes closer, seeing y/n’s fragile fingers twitch and run over the smooth bed.

“y/n?” maddie asks, her voice still weak from her slumber. she begins to sit up, faster than before, to examine y/n’s face. there’s a brighter color to her features, her cheeks became more pigmented and she looked more full. she didn’t just look like another body in the hospital, waiting for her heart to give up on itself.

the more words that left maddie’s mouth, the more flickering she saw on y/n’s face. her heart was pounding against her chest, feeling the anxiety rise through her spine. “hey, y/n.” she whispers, giving a reassuring squeeze to her hand. after a few moments that felt like centuries, y/n’s eyelashes fluttered a bit, and her red, tired irises were finally revealed again.

eddie was laying on the couch, unable to sleep in the bed that once held the couple together. it felt eerily cold without her, his hand subconsciously floating over to run a hand over her back, only to be confronted with the chilly satin. he never wanted to leave y/n, but he also know that she would never want him to fall apart in the hospital watching her. he so badly wanted his eyes to finally shut, being able to give him even an hour of rest. someone had their fingers holding open his eyes, painting horrible images in his mind.

he turned on his back, his arm behind his head and staring into the bumpy, popcorn ceilings of his home. the home he shares with his son and his fiancée, the two people he cherishes the most. now, it was filled with darkness and loss and he prayed that he could get it back.

something grabbed ahold of his mind, halting his thoughts with the blaring noise of his ringtone. when he saw the ID of maddie illuminate his phone, he thought of the worst. either y/n was dead, and he never gets to see her again, or nothing has changed, and there is only more of an agonizing wait.

“eddie, you should get here,” was all he needed to hear over the phone before he roused christopher, dropping him off to get more rest at his tías, and eddie continued to speed over to the hospital.

the tube was gone. it was replaced with a skinnier cord, only pushing air into her through her lungs. her face, still bruised and scraped, but so alive. her eyes shined through the room, meeting eddie’s with a slight upturn of her lip. she was laying on her side with her hand under her cheek. the dark bags under her eyes were clear, but practically matching with eddie’s.

the moment he walked into that room and saw her, his rapid heartbeat began to slow, leaving a dropping sensation in his chest. he scurried over, not being able to stop himself from placing a long kiss on her lips, the ones that had just almost been taken from him.

“i am so, so sorry, mi vida, i wish i were here when you woke up,” he cries, tears welling up in his eyes.

“but you’re here now,” she rasps out, trying to lose the discomfort in her voice. “you’ve been here the whole time for me.”

“don’t ever leave me like that again,” he sighs, pressing his forehead against her own, letting her wired hand be placed on his cheek.

“i wasn’t scared of them,” y/n tells him. “i was scared that they’d take you away from me. i don’t ever want to leave you in the dust like i did last night.”

“last week, honey,” eddie grins with a bit of pity on his voice.

“oh, yeah,” she chuckles a bit, but afterwards grimacing at the pain in her abdomen.

“you should go to sleep, get some real rest this time.”

“i just slept for like, 160 hours, eddie.”

“i know, baby, but you still need to let yourself heal.” she smiles up at him, silently thanking him for his gentleness and tranquility. she nods, as he steps out to see the doctor. maddie returns back in, clutching her purse by her side and smiling her gorgeous maddie beam.

“hi again,” y/n smiles, seeing her best friend walk into the room once more.

maddie carefully walks in, placing her bag down and hugging y/n’s laying figure. “how are you feeling?”

“physically, a bit better,” y/n says.

“but what about the y/n i love. how is she doing in there?”

y/n pauses, all the thoughts rushing back through her head. every sentence screams through her ears, wanting to push itself to the front of her mind. every worry, every fear comes clean to the surface.

“maddie, i don’t know what to do,” her eyes begin to water, and her voice starts to tremble along with her hands. “we’ve been trying to plan this wedding for so long, and those men just took it all away from me. how am i supposed to just move on from that? i’m never going to be able to be the same after that. and eddie,” she sighs, pushing a long exhale out through her mouth. “i feel like i completely destroyed him with this. and now, i have to go to PT and i can’t even walk down the isle by myself! one of these days he’s gonna realize that i’m not worth anything anymore. i’m horrified that every day he has to take care of me, is just one part of him that doesn’t want me anymore.”

her breathing picks up, maddie trying to ease her but ultimately not being able to with just a simple touch. she looks at eddie, still focused on the doctor.

“listen, y/n/n,” maddie begins. “that gang took so much from you, but you have so many people on your side. they lost, you won. and with eddie, he would bleed himself dry if it meant you came home with him. every single breath you take is worth a million dollars to him. you are the most, fighter bitch i’ve ever met, and if anyone’s going to bounce back from this, it’s you. the moment you two kiss on that one night, all this worrying will be for nothing. he is your soldier, and he’ll never leave you. he would fight the gods if it meant he could keep you next to him every night.”

the tears fall onto her pillowcase, leaving several dark patches besides her face. eddie turns back around, letting himself back into to room only to see the upset written all over y/n’s face.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, the sweetness in the delivery of his words. maddie looks up at him, her eyebrows tilting up together in a sadness for her friend. sharp inhales and gasps come through y/n’s body, using her shaking hand to wipe the wet tears from her cheeks. “you’re ok, baby, i got you.” he tells her, sitting besides her on the bed and caressing her side. maddie kisses her cheek, stepping out of the room to leave the engaged pair alone.

“i never want to be away from you again,” she sobs. “promise me you’ll never leave me, and i promise i’ll always love you.”

“i’ll make this promise to you until the day we grow grey hair, or the day you don’t remember me anymore. i’ll promise you this every single day. i mean it when i say i love you more than anything.”

655 notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 1 year ago

Text

DO YOU WANNA BE FRIENDS? (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: eddie really hates being on bar. Especially during morning rush. When you not only notice his impending breakdown, but do something about it, he realizes that the two of you might be capable of being more than just coworkers.

warnings: ONE use of "y/n", fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), description of being overstimulated/extremely anxious

wc: 4.5k

a/n: shoutout to all the friends that let me make them fellow victims of the siren <3 also thank you to everyone who showed love the first one shot! i didn't expect that at all so it means the world. hopefully with this part, it makes more sense what i meant by little slices of life! the masterlist will always have the individual one shots listed chronologically.

the full menu

Bar was Eddie’s own personal Hell when he first started. It was chaotic, it was fast paced, and it was simply too much to deal with first thing in the morning (especially on the sparse few hours of sleep he functioned off of).

He was much better put to use on DTO. Taking orders, stalling perfectly so that whoever was on food could get a jump start, cracking plenty of jokes all while still always perfectly reciting back the customer’s drinks. He thrived on DTO. Even when he would be assigned to “one-manning” drive, which simply meant he handled both taking orders and handing them out the window, he was clearly one of the best.

Nicole knew this. Meg knew this. All the shifts knew this — except the newest shift, Gale, apparently.

Because this morning, a major fuck up had occurred.

Gale was going over his floor plan for the peak rush, explaining who would be in which position, and Eddie knew something was up the moment you shot him a concerned look from across the room. Initially, it was actually funny, the way your eyes so quickly found his and your nose scrunched microscopically. But by the time Gale had made his rounds to Eddie, he understood that the reaction you’d given him the privilege to witness had not been just something cute – it had been a siren going off from across the store, your attempt to forewarn him of the impending chaos and doom.

Since that first opening, Eddie has been lucky. Just as he had hoped for, that morning wasn’t the last time he saw you. In fact, he sees so much of you on a weekly basis, he’s sure the Universe is playing a sick joke. It was bound to happen; there’s only so many people who are willingly to be openers (for obvious reasons), and you were one of those brave soldiers. He took Nicole’s advice to heart, he decided to let you slip into pace beside him on the front lines, and he’d been reaping the benefits.

You’re kind, you’re funny, you make the time pass. You make Eddie feel like the two of you might be friends, or at least could be. And it wasn’t the fake kind of niceties that some of the other baristas would extend only from the moment they clocked in to the moment they clocked out. Your sweetness towards him lasted long past being on the clock. In the parking lot in the early mornings, in the lobby after your shift as the two of you solicited just to get a few more jokes in with Nicole. You’d wait for him and walk out to his car with him. You learned how he likes his coffee, and sometimes made him his preferred drink amidst your opening tasks, only handing it over with a smile and charming, “Drink up, Munson. You’re gonna need it to keep up with me today.”

God, he fucking liked you.

A month of openings all tallied up to this moment now, in which you’d just opened him up to the possibility of private, silent conversations in a crowded room. He’d never been on the receiving end of that before. Usually, he was the outsider as glances in a secret language were exchanged.

Not anymore. Not now that you had your sights set on him.

“Hey, Eddie,” Gale approaches him slowly, a friendly enough smile on his face. He’d transferred here from another store a few weeks ago, “So, game plan for today’s peak.”

The words lay it on me are on the tip of Eddie’s tongue, but they stick to the roof of his mouth instead. He wasn’t that quick on his toes with most people at work. Half the time, he’s lucky he’s managed any banter with you.

Blandly, Gale explains how Marissa will be on cafe bar. “And then, I’m going to put myself over on front and warming, try to keep myself flexible for you guys. I’ll have you, Y/N, and Ash run drive today.”

Eddie pales a little, and just as your eyes had immediately sought out his, he’s looking right over Gale’s shoulder to find you peeking out from around the corner, already in position. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Gale is oblivious to Eddie’s nerves, “I’ll have you bar, she’ll be your DTO. It’ll be great, you guys are going to kill it.”

The only thing dying will be our drive times.

Gale leaves with a quick, encouraging smack to Eddie’s shoulder, telling him to go ahead and head over to the small nook that’s designated for the drive thru as he ‘splits the bars’ – changing the system so that tickets for cafe and mobile orders will expel out from the printer that sits atop the bar facing the front of the store, while any drive thru orders print on the bar hidden there.

Eddie is in his own personal Hell. Actually, he’s in his own worst conundrum.

On one hand, he’s thrilled to be able to spend the day in this corner with you. Plenty of times, Nicole will assign you to bar and Eddie to take orders or greet customers on the window, and it’s wonderful. Forced proximity due to the set up of the store, easy conversation during lulls, and abundance of inside jokes shouted between customers. He loves it. But he only loves it because he’s not the one busting out those drinks, already starting on the next iced caramel macchiato as the customer at the speaker box has hardly finished announcing it as their drink of choice. He loves seeing you in your element; you’re quick, fast and always on your own rhythm that keeps those damn drive times that corporate care about so much under a minute. Eddie could never do that – he could never average thirty second wait times, especially when so many customers order so many drinks.

Today is not his ideal situation. He will be the one trying to juggle all those drinks, trying to find a pace that works for both him and the customers and fucking corporate.

“You good?” you whisper the moment he steps up around the corner and up to the bar, turning and facing you. Your mirror images of one another – both of you have your lower backs pressed to sticky counters, leaning with arms crossed and already looking defeated before the rush has even begun.

“I’m gonna fuck it all up,” he blurts out quietly, the girl who will be on window - Ashleigh, Ash for short – not quite joining you two in the corner yet. “Our times are going to suck so badly.”

If it were anyone else, he would have just shrugged the question off. He would have smiled politely. But it’s you, still bleeding sunshine even after being back from vacation for a full month, and still offering him a reassuring smile even as his pessimism hangs around the space like a dark cloud.

“Fuck the times,” you immediately say, and he laughs a little, eyes widening in shock at how serious you look right now, “You know what? I think our store has been doing a little too good. I’ve always wanted to see if we could get it up to a five minute window time. Are you down to test my theory today?”

He can’t help but fully throw his head back at that, smile wide, no laughter audibly escaping him but he can feel it fizzing in his chest. He used to hate that, especially during his first shift with you – the way you could seemingly make him feel so much better about this entire situation. Now he’s just grateful. If he has to stand on the deck of a sinking ship on this terrible Tuesday morning, he’s so glad he’s going down with you.

It’s the worst moment for Ash to appear between the two of you, looking wildly confused as she asks, “Did you just say five minute window times?”

You throw your head back, and the laugh that leaves you is the prettiest sound Eddie has ever heard. The fizzling chuckles in his chest burst, and Ash only looks at the two of you as if you were certifiably insane.

Oh, yeah. He’s very glad that this is the ship he will go down in.

—

Famous last words. Not even an hour into peak, Eddie is biting down on every positive thought you had fooled him into entertaining. His jaw aches with both stress and regret as his knuckles sting from burning himself again with the steam wand. Honestly, he thinks he burnt himself less his first time on warming, and he still has a scar on his pinky from those damned ovens.

“We’re just waiting on a-” Ash starts to say to him when she turns and lets the window close, effectively sealing them off from the customer.

“A grande hot americano, I know,” Eddie cuts her off. He didn’t mean to snap, but his irritation is getting the better of him. An impending meltdown is already crawling beneath his skin due to overstimulation and stress.

Yeah, he really hates bar.

When the newest green bean meekly adds on, “With cream and two sugar,” Eddie prepares himself to scream into oblivion.

Until you interfere.

He’s just taken his first breath, shallow and vapid as he glares at Ash, when one of your hands comes down on his shoulder, the other carefully slipping the cup that only needs to have hot water added to it from his grasp and into yours.

“I can finish this off for you,” you sweetly insist, leaning forward so that your face fills the minimal space between him and Ash, “That okay?”

Something flashes in your eyes. It isn’t the same look any of your other coworkers send him when he’s falling behind, when he feels like he’s drowning in this position. It doesn’t feel as though you’re insisting on finishing the drink out of impatience, a desperate last call to speed Eddie along like some sort of machine, but instead as though you’re genuinely trying to help him.

And your hand. It’s still on his shoulder, curling carefully as he finally can feel the way your thumb is sweeping back and forth over his shoulder blade. Such a soothing motion, it nearly makes him cry. Between your thumb and hand, your gentle eyes, your sweet perfume that cuts through the nauseating smell of coffee – all of it makes him just want to throw in the towel, step off the bar, and let you hug him while he’s a giant crybaby. He knows you’re the only one here who wouldn’t judge him. He’s witnessed first hand several other coworkers do almost exactly that, as a matter of fact.

He was still secretly jealous of your coworker Sam and the day that she’d been on the verge of her own breakdown, still had the image of the way you’d softened when you caught sight of her genuine tears and just pulled her into your arms.

He swears he isn’t down bad as some of the kids would call it. He wasn’t special – everyone wanted hugs from you.

“That’s fine,” he answers after far too many precious seconds have slipped away between you two, the customer at the window momentarily forgotten. His voice is thick with emotion and he has to blink several times just to eat away at that impending breakdown once more.

Just make it another few hours. Another few hours, and you can scream and cry all you want in the van. You can lose your damn mind if you so please, if you make it another few hours.

He has to remind himself of this over and over as he lets you finish off that fucking americano, and he takes a few consecutive stickers of nothing but frappucinos. He doesn’t even know the time, but it might be better that way.

He doesn’t even realize the way you’re still watching him so carefully, and so full of concern.

Suddenly, though, your voice sounds over the headsets — this time, without a car at the speaker box. You’ve clicked for the private channel, meant just for communication between any of the baristas wearing a headset.

“Hey, Gale?” you sweetly say.

Eddie finishes the drink he’s working on with shaking hands.

Gale takes several seconds until he finally answers you from where he is in the back, “What’s up?”

“Can we switch up the floor a little bit?” Eddie’s stomach twists immediately, the burn of betrayal causing his shoulders to tense without facing you. Cool. Great. She noticed. She’s doing something about it. She’s about to throw me under the bus. Whatever. “I’m getting tired of DTO, starting to kind of stutter and I can’t hear the customers clearly anymore because my brain is melted.”

That he didn’t expect. It’s subtle, and a little white lie. You hadn’t been stuttering. Any mishearings were laughed off easily. You were constantly buying Eddie more time to get a head start on the drinks.

You weren’t requesting a switch for your sake.

Gale sighs over the channel, mumbling your name before saying, “It’s the middle of peak, we can’t-“

“What if me and Eddie just switch?” he finally turns to face you at your suggestion. You’re not quite looking at him with pity, but understanding. You’d been there before — overwhelmed and panicked on bar, left out to sea without anyone to throw you an anchor. And you could recognize an anxiety attack from a mile away. “The customers always like him better anyways. And he has better suggestions for drinks-“

You’re blatantly lying. You knew Eddie was more comfortable on DTO. You knew he could handle that, even on his bad days. He almost gives in to his urge to hug you out of sheer relief.

“I- Fine. Yeah, that’s fine.”

Once Gale agrees, you’re instantly logging out of your partner number and sweeping your arm out dramatically for Eddie to take your place at the order screen with a small smile. He moves forward slowly, finally feeling like he can breathe as you walk up to the bar.

You didn’t need a break from DTO. You’d thrown yourself under the bus to offer him some relief.

Wordlessly, the two of you transition into your new positions, and it immediately becomes obvious that it was more ideal. You barrel through drinks all while wearing a smile, and although Eddie stays a bit reserved in his interactions with customers as his anxiety settles, he still shows off all his strong suits. Stalling customers with idle chat, lying about checking to see if something was in stock so you could pull extra shots, repeating back drinks multiple times to make sure you heard it correctly.

It’s seamless. The times that corporate cares about dwindle down to better match the day’s goal, and Eddie’s chest finally loosens.

You didn’t have to do that. Anyone else wouldn’t have done that.

When the rush has finally passed, both you and Eddie finally in the final stretch of an hour until your shifts end, he finds the nerve to bring it up.

You’re wiping down counters, humming under your breath, when he clears his throat awkwardly, “Uh, thank you. For earlier.”

“Why are you thanking me?” you ask nonchalantly, shrugging as you stop pretending to be busy, “I really was tired of DTO-“

“No, you weren’t,” he stops you from defending your lie, “You… you’re amazing at DTO. Better than me by a landslide.”

Your entire expression softens from that constant joy and constant reassurance. But the glow of your kindness doesn’t erase with the relaxing of your cheeks. If anything, it simmers and only reaches Eddie even more potently.

You relay your next words with careful consideration, “I’m really not, Eddie. It’s not a competition. I.. do enjoy DTO, but you were stressed. And Gale wasn’t about to change his floor without someone saying something.”

“If it had been anyone else, they would have told me to suck it up,” he points out.

“But it wasn’t anyone else. It was me, and I don’t think any of us should have to spend our shifts suffering.”

You leave off a very important detail that you aren’t quite ready for Eddie to be privy to yet — if it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have caved so quickly. You actually probably also would have told anyone else to suck it up, albeit still in a light-hearted and encouraging tone. You would have offered extra help, you would have tried to make jokes to ease the anxiety, but you wouldn’t have just thrown yourself under the bus.

And yet, when it comes to him, you find yourself going soft. Any affirmativeness that you use during your training, that you usually persist with having with new hires, has melted.

You hated seeing him so stressed.

“You know,” Eddie’s nervous to say his next words, but they’re true, “You’re probably my favorite coworker.”

Your smile is back, radiant and comforting. Eddie’s pride swells that it was his hand that ignited that bit of flame back into you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You’re like a child, looking down bashfully and fiddling with the edges of your apron. He’s sure that any second now, you might start swaying side to side, that your pupils might form into absolute hearts. You visualize exactly how it feels every time he sees that yellow Jeep parked in the lot.

You bite your lip to break from your shy spell, leaning towards him with a summer glint to your eyes, “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m starting to think you’re my favorite too, Munson.”

A conglomeration of the past month – it feels as though it all comes to a rise in this moment, hitting an unimaginable peak, and he isn’t scared of a sudden drop. There will be no veering or falling down from these heights, no sudden lack of friendliness. He knows it surely the longer he stares into your eyes. If anything, maybe this is actually just a beginning.

“Yeah, sure,” he snorts, unable to contain himself, “I doubt that, Sunshine.”

The nickname slips out without much thought, but he doesn’t even have time to panic – your grin is painfully wide as you lift a brow. “Wanna bet?”

“Never took you as a gambler.”

“John rubbed off on me.”

He twists his face, holding back any sexual innuendos, and that’s when it happens. Your mouth falls open, realizing the dirty joke he’s biting down on, and you gasp dramatically. Your hand flies out without second thought, smacking him on his shoulder.

A smack. That’s what breaks the seal between the two of you. A joking smack on the shoulder at a crude innuendo, and suddenly the unspoken and terribly awkward boundary that should always exist between coworkers is shattered.

“I lied,” you try to deadpan, but you can’t stop smiling at Eddie’s withheld laughter, “Oh my God, fuck you. That’s gross! You’re officially my least favorite coworker.”

“Yeah, but I bet John’s your favorite customer, right?”

He’s able to block your second attempt at a slap this time, now close enough that he smells your perfume and sweet shampoo. Smells whatever lotion you use, that lingering and stubborn fragrant chai syrup that’s dried on your arms. You’re giggling shamelessly as you wrestle your wrist out of his grip. He swears, if you’d let him, his fingertips would stay pressed there on your pulse until the two of you conjoined in some twisted way. Like overgrown roots taking back control of abandoned buildings, you’d wrap around him and his ridiculous insinuations. He’d die a happy man. He’s already about to die a happy man as he feels your heart racing, and he almost convinces himself that you feel it too.

God, Eddie really liked you. He doesn’t care anymore, he’s willing to admit it to himself at the very least. He fucking likes you. He’d be a fool not to.

His fingers are still wrapped around soft skin when suddenly, Gale rounds the corner, and clears his throat.

“I, um-” his eyes zero in on the space left behind as Eddie drops your wrist, and you’re quick to tuck it behind your back. It’s as if the two of you are children who have been caught doing something you shouldn’t have been. Eddie shoves his own burning fingertips into the pocket of his apron, “I just wanted to say you guys did good today. It’s- uh, you’re both off. So… yeah. Um, good job today.”

Eddie gets second hand embarrassment from Gale’s stuttering, but you look like you might burst into laughter at any moment. Not teasing chuckles or cruel mockery, but the kind of laughter that occurs when two friends are in trouble, and they avoid each other’s gazes during their scolding in the fear of laughing at an inopportune moment.

You won’t look his way. It’s exactly that.

“Thanks,” Eddie forces out, seemingly satisfying Gale as he just nods and scurries off.

Once you two are left alone in the corner again, you finally look at him and burst into that building laughter.

Sunshine is fitting for you, he decides, as your laughter fills his lungs with the sun and more.

—

“So, you don’t live near the store?” you ask, scrunching up your nose cutely as you walk side by side with Eddie across the parking lot towards your cars. Both of you had been eager to get out of the store after Gale’s fiddly dismissal.

Eddie shakes his head, pulling the straw of his free drink from his mouth, “Nah, twenty minutes out.”

He’d gotten a caramel frappuccino, emphasis on a blasphemous amount of drizzle, and Ash had nearly castrated him with a glare as she had bustled away on bar. You’d only snorted under your breath and asked for a water.

“Really?” you stop dead in your tracks, in the center of the parking lot. Eddie can’t lie – it makes him nervous. If any of the usual asshole drivers that usually speed through here decided to arrive, they’d hit you. He has half the mind to reach out and grab your hand, to tug you over to the safe space between the two of your cars, “No way – I live twenty minutes away.”

He swears his stomach falls to the pavement below, “You live in Hawkins?”

No. It can’t be possible. He refuses to believe that you could live so close, that you would have been residing so near him this entire time and it took a miserable opening job at some out-of-the-way coffeeshop for him to meet you. You cannot be in Hawkins. Not fucking possible.

“Oh, no,” you shake your head, finally walking over to that space Eddie had deemed safe. The shade from your Jeep stretches only about half way to his van as the sun gets closer to settling into the center of the sky, “Opposite direction.”

“Damn.”

He can’t help the disappointment; yes, his stomach had dropped at the prospect of having spent years already circling around meeting you, but it’s his heart that sinks as you reveal the actual distance between the two of you.

At least this means you don’t know anything about his reputation in his hometown.

“That would’ve been cool, though, right?” you stop and turn to him, kicking as a few of the pebbles on the ground, “If I just so happened to live, like, next door to you or something.”

It would have been Eddie’s innocent crush’s dream come true. To find out his sunny coworker was also his goddamn neighbor.

“Yeah,” he tries to hide his disappointment, continuing on with a shrug, “But if we’re gonna be neighbors, it’s probably better that I live next door to you.”

You look up at him questioning, “Can I… ask why?”

“I live in a trailer park.”

He shouldn’t be handing this information over so easily. He’s one step away from dumping all his childhood traumas onto you.

And he knows that the others joke that it’s normal, and that there've been many heartfelt conversations on the floor between rushes. But something about this feels more personal – it doesn’t feel like two coworkers just comparing old wounds or exchanging living situations. It feels like two friends just getting to know each other.

He never would have admitted that to anyone else that works with the two of you.

You don’t even react, just shrugging as he had to brush off his disappointment. There’s no pity, no disgust. No judgment. It’s just a new piece of the puzzle that is Eddie.

“Fair enough,” you settle on replying before it looks as if you’ve had a sudden revelation. Eddie swears he sees the lightbulb go off over your head, “You know, no one else knows where I live.”

He finds that hard to believe. They all adore you too much, surely your coworkers would be fumbling over themselves to find out as much about you as they can.

“Really?”

“Really. No one’s ever asked me. And it’s… never really come up.”

Something about holding this rare piece of information about you makes Eddie want to jump for joy. He wants to hold it close to his chest, tuck it away for safe keepings. He doesn’t really know why.

But he’s on his way to figuring it out as he says, “I guess it’s not something coworkers really talk about, huh? Probably more friends territory.”

A slight fib, because plenty of the other baristas have overshared that type of information. The ones that talk too much, that never seem to take a breath or leave a space for people like yourself or Eddie to really insert yourselves into the conversations.

He’d noticed that. You talk quite a bit too, but never about yourself. Always encouraging information out of other people, remembering the little details they share, but it’s never an even exchange. He used to think it was a choice you made, but he’s suddenly wondering if it’s because no one ever cared to listen.

“I guess so,” you hum. You two should part ways. You climb into your Jeep, Eddie hop into his van. And maybe you’d sit in your respective idle vehicles for a second, even look at each other through tinted windows and make silly faces. But this should be the beginning of the end of your day together. Someone has to leave; one of you should leave. Instead, you just tilt your head curiously at Eddie, and he knows why now he wants to hold you so near and dear and safely as you ask him, “Well, in that case, do you wanna be friends?”

And – yeah. Eddie does want to be friends. As a matter of fact, he might want to even be more than friends eventually. But for now, this offering is enough.

He thinks you’ve rubbed off a little on him, because he must be bleeding a little bit of sunshine as he says, “Absolutely.”

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#my writing #barista!eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #coffee shop blues

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hellfirenacht · 10 months ago

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Wing Man Part 7

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

5k words

Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

A/N: Happy New Year! I ran out of steam there for a while but I am bursting with new inspiration and have a billion ideas for new and old fics! Thank you for your patience and support 💜

The next night after dropping you off at home, there was a storm the likes of which Hawkins had never seen. Lightning lit up the sky through the night like a shitty rave, knocking out the power for Forest Hills Trailer Park for the better part of two days. It wasn’t until Saturday, when Eddie attempted to check in on Ronnie again, that he realized that their worn out phone had been completely fried. Shit.

Getting a new one was easier said than done, Eddie and Wayne had to pinch pennies this week after his uncle had been out of work a few days because of a cold, and having to replace a good chunk of groceries that had gone bad sitting in the dead fridge.

Sure, Bev had been nice enough to give Eddie a few extra shifts at the Hideout to help cover but that was a paycheck that wasn’t going to be in for another week. There was always his dealings, but he’d been keeping his head down after nearly having his stash blown by an over enthusiastic K-9 unit that, thankfully, was more interested in the jerky that Eddie had in his jacket.

For a week, he’d been without a phone now. Normally it wasn’t a huge loss, not many people actually bothered trying to call him anyway, and Wayne didn’t really socialize much working the night shift. But he missed Ronnie, and he really was stressing each day that went by that he didn’t call you. Eddie knew that whatever this was, he was probably already blowing it.

Tuesday rolled around again, and he hoped that you’d show back up to the Hideout. Jeff had even agreed to give most of the band a ride if Eddie agreed to haul their equipment and do all of the breakdown in case you needed another ride home. No such luck though, unbeknownst to him Keith had come down with the same cold that his Uncle Wayne had the week before, meaning you had to work a double.

It was now Friday, over a week since you’d written your name in the most stubborn permanent marker he’d ever come across. Your name still stained his skin in a faint and ugly shade of pea green. Eddie could now say your number by memory, despite never having punched in the digits once. If anyone at school had noticed that Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson had a girl's name on his arm, they didn’t say anything.

“Whose number is that?” Mike asked in the middle of a time out while Zach and Gareth were pouring over the rule book over the legality of a move that Eddie was sure was bullshit. So much for that.

Eddie’s head snapped over to the freshman while those in Corroded Coffin snickered and suddenly lost interest in the rules for the moment. With the candles and stage lights on, it was always warm in the Hellfire room, and Eddie had stripped his jacket giving his arms a chance to breathe while he guided the party on their next adventure.

It had also meant that the faded remains of your number was still visible, which he hadn’t thought much of until Mike had pointed it out.

“Yeah, Eddie, whose number is it?” Jeff snickered, which earned a hard look from Eddie that under any other circumstances would have shut Jeff up but in this case only made him laugh harder.

For a moment he debated internally about putting his jacket on, and telling them all to shove it. It was tempting, very tempting, but Eddie wasn’t a teen anymore. Hell, he had a good two to three years on most of the members in this club. Why should he be embarrassed because a cute girl had some sort of interest in him?

Because you’re blowing it by not being able to call her. He told himself.

Eddie then told the table about how you’d given him your number right before he dropped you off. How you’d been a perfect gentleman and hadn’t taken advantage of him or made any untowards moves to him. (Even if he had thought you almost did, but he kept that part to himself).

To his surprise, the ribbing was kept to a minimal. Without Eddie fighting against it, the group became less interested. Eddie’s love life was only of interest when it meant that the sheep could finally have some fun with the shepard.

That was going to be the end of it. Jeff had conceded that the rule they were looking up had been an old house rule from his middle school group that he had never questioned as not actually being accurate, and they were ready to move on. Eddie opened his mouth to guide the party to the next encounter-

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in her.” Dustin suddenly said. Eddie had thought that the shrimp had been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.

“If that was him not interested then I’m quitting Hellfire to be a cheerleader.” laughed Gareth.

“No one wants to see you in a miniskirt, man.” said Mike.

“They have guy cheerleaders!” protested Gareth. “I’d wear the pants.”

“That’d be a first.” ribbed Zack.

“Don’t you have to be crazy strong to be a cheerleader? Gareth, your strength stat sucks.”

“I haul my own drumset every week!”

“Can we get back to the game?”

“Eddie,” Dustin spoke up again. His brows were furrowed and he was messing with his pencil, the same way he did when someone in the party was about to do something that didn’t make any sense. “You did say you weren’t interested.”

So much for Eddie’s love life being of no interest, he now had a herd of sheep looking at him expectantly, no longer talking about Gareth possibly changing after school activities. He should ignore it, get everyone back on track, and lead them back into the Forbidden Caves where he was not tempted to throw a mimic in for messing with the flow of the game.

He should... but Dustin’s comment bugged him for some reason.

“I never said that.” Eddie said, looking at the kid.

“What? Yeah you did!” Dustin looked as shocked as Eddie felt. When had he ever said he wasn’t interested in you?

“Oh yeah, when?” Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his throne, his eyes narrowing.

“At the arcade!” Dustin sounded frustrated. “You told me that you didn’t want me introducing you to anyone when we were doing Hellfire related shit, and that you weren’t interested anyway.”

The warmth from the candles and stage lights were nothing compared to the heat of everyone’s eyes on him. What the fuck was Henderson even talking about?

Oh. Oh what the fuck?!

“Excuse me?” Eddie said slowly as that thirty second conversation started to play in his mind.

“Yeah, I remember that.” Mike added, in an attempt to back up his friend. “We just assumed she wasn’t your type.”

Eddie hadn’t been looking to be anyone’s boyfriend. He was never looking to be dating anyone, the few times he’d found himself in the good graces of a girl who’d shown interest in him it had always blown up in his face.

That had never stopped him from trying though.

“Are- wait. Back up.” Eddie stood up and made his way over to the opposite end of the table where the freshmen were suddenly looking very nervous. He grabbed them by the shoulders, as he’d done so many times in the past and hauled them up while the rest of the table watched on in amusement. Normally, Eddie would never pause the game but, fuck it. This kid had something to do with you, and he was going to figure out what.

“Jesus, Eddie-” Mike said, wincing at the grip. “I don’t have anything to do with this, it was all Dustin and Steve!”

This was getting more and more confusing by the moment. Eddie shoved the two boys to face them, leaning over them. Even with Mike’s growth spurt over the past few months, somehow Eddie still seemed to tower over them.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was slow, trying to understand why that name was even being spoken in the private sanctuary away from jocks.

“Yes, Steve! They’re like, best friends or something! Ask Dustin!” Mike said, throwing his friend under the bus.

“What’s the big deal?!” Dustin asked, looking between Mike and Eddie with a look of bewilderment.

“Henderson, you have thirty seconds to explain what the actual Hell is going on before your character becomes Quasit food.” Eddie said, releasing his grip on both of the freshmen.

“Okay, okay!” Dustin held his hand up in surrender, looking nervous as everyone watched the scene unfold. “So, you know how her and Steve work together? Well, they had a deal going on where they’d help get each other dates.”

Eddie’s head tilted down slightly, but his eyes stayed firmly focused on Dustin. This was making less and less sense by the minute. Steve needed help getting dates? King Steve of Hawkins High who had the pick of any girl in school before he graduated? That Steve Harrington couldn’t get a date and so had recruited you into helping him?

And you, you with the everything about you couldn’t get a date either? Hadn’t you mentioned something about that before, at the Hideout?

“I help him and he uh... he helps me get out of the house.”

You’d said that, and he hadn’t thought much of it until now. All this time, Eddie had thought the arcade incident had been Dustin trying to have his two older male friends meet and be friends, but it had been you that he was supposed to meet?

“So you’re telling me that you, Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington were trying to set me up on a date?” Eddie looked over at the rest of the table that looked just as bewildered as he did. This was a prank, right? He’d been tossed into some sort of alternate dimension where a freshman and a jock had any sort of interest in his love life, in any part of his life. He’d sooner believe that he’d run a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham than this.

“Well, technically we were trying to set her up on a date and you seemed like a good fit?” Dustin’s answer came out as more of a question, leaving Eddie’s mind reeling. Behind him, he could hear the growing snickers of the party.

Eddie was ready for this to start making sense any time now.

“So she was helping Steve get dates and he wanted to set her up with me?” Nope, even after thinking it a half dozen times it still wasn’t clicking.

“That part was my idea actually!” Dustin said, showing off a smile filled with metal. “She’s pretty weird and Steve said she was picky-”

“Can’t be that picky if she was interested in Eddie.” muttered Gareth, earning another round of laughter at the table.

Eddie didn’t even have it in him to shoot another look at the table as he continued to try and piece together what was going on.

You and Steve had a deal to try and get each other dates. You were picky and so Dustin suggested Eddie. Steve then brought you to the arcade to force a meeting and-

“Wait, did she know that she was supposed to meet me?” Eddie asked suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she knew the whole time in the arcade.” Dustin nodded, hoping that Eddie wasn’t about to blow a fuse over this. “Well, she figured it out at least. See she was just supposed to be tagging along with Steve to find guys to flirt with but then uh... she realized she was supposed to meet you.”

“And she didn’t know who I was?” Eddie clarified, thinking back to the way you’d tried to talk to him about Hellfire, Chris Morrison, anything to try and start a conversation. How the hell was it that he could remember every time you two met so clearly, but you didn’t know who he actually was?

Because it wasn’t about you, Eddie. He had to remind himself.

Dustin shrugged. “I guess not? She’s never mentioned you before that night.”

Guess not everyone paid attention to the Freak. He hated that it bugged him that you didn’t remember him but could he blame you? He probably wouldn’t remember him either, just a Munson fuck up who everyone was waiting to end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Eddie pushed Dustin back down into his seat, done interrogating the poor freshman. Everyone watched as he made his way back to his side of the table, behind the DM screen. He had a lot to think about, but he wasn’t about to start processing that in front of the rest of Hellfire.

“You all wander deeper into the cave, the only light coming from the torch carried by-”

“I have dark vision!”

Broke and bored, Eddie haunted the trailer for the rest of the weekend. He did have practice with Corroded Coffin for a generous two hours on Saturday, and then a long shift that night at the Hideout where one old drunk had slipped him a $10 tip for making sure he always had a cold beer in hand. But those few hours were just a minor reprieve from the information that Dustin had given him the previous day.

When he wasn’t distracted by work or practice he was practicing guitar, working on lyrics, prepping for the next Hellfire session.

He tried to think about you, but ended up feeling confused. When he was trying to think about anything else, all he could see was the way you had flirted with him at the Hideout.

Despite popular opinion, Eddie wasn’t stupid when it came to girls. He could tell when a girl was interested in him, and you had made it clear that you had at least some interest in him. You had told him point blank that you were not with Harrington, and had no interest as well. He’d seen the way you looked at him while watching them play, that excitement in your eyes. Your head had bobbed to the rhythm of their songs watching them with as much enthusiasm as if you’d been a fan for years.

Paige had watched with similar eyes, right? She’d seen something in them that no one else had before-

No. Not them. Not Corroded Coffin. Just Eddie.

It felt pathetic that he kept comparing you to Paige. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to. It wasn’t like he was still hung up on Paige, not really. She’d just been a turning point in who he was as a person. She’d been the first (and last) girl to really look at him as a person. If his dating prospects had been small before, they had completely dried up over the past two years.

Date the freak? Yeah, right. There had been the odd girl who’d hit on him as if daring themselves to get with him but he was done with that. A few mediocre dates that he’d agreed to out of boredom or loneliness had only added to the idea in Hawkins High that he was undesirable. Adding to that, the older he got, the younger his underclassmen became and the idea of dating someone younger was... well he didn’t need to add ‘creep’ to the long list of rumors about him. It didn’t matter to him most of the time, instead focusing on his friends, his band, his club, his business, himself. God knows he’d never be able to hold down a relationship unless he got his shit together and earned everyone’s trust again.

“Graduate and get laid, Munson.” Ronnie’s voice echoed in the back of his mind and he groaned as his face warmed. It was the middle of the week, just over two weeks since the night at the Hideout. Eddie was laying on the old couch face down, his homework on the counter half finished and the blue glow of the tv doing little to distract him.

The sound of the door opening didn’t even phase him enough to look up, even as Wayne grunted out a hello before setting something down on the counter next to his forgotten schoolbooks.

“Did you eat?” Wayne asked, which earned a shrug from Eddie. How could he think about eating when he was stuck thinking about everything else?

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been moping around for the past few weeks?” Wayne tried again in an attempt to be a good guardian. When that didn’t work either he sighed and said “Might as well step outside with me and have a smoke.”

It was better than doing whatever the hell else Eddie was doing now, and so he rolled off the couch less than gracefully and followed his uncle out onto the porch to sit on the outdoor couch. Wayne offered him the smoke and for a moment it was peaceful. Wayne wasn’t one to push Eddie to talk about anything, but he did have a way to make him think even if it did piss him off occasionally.

Eddie took a long drag of the cigarette and released it slowly as he stared up at the sky. It was a dark night, a million tiny dots illuminating the trailer park, even if the moon wasn’t out. He scanned the stars, looking for the three that he knew were Orion’s belt. That’s about where his astrology knowledge began and ended, but it was something to look for at least.

“I think a girl likes me.” He finally said as he spotted what he assumed was the constellation he was looking for.

“Yeah?” Wayne asked, his own eyes gazing upwards as well, giving Eddie the space to talk more.

“Yeah.”

It was silent again for a few minutes as they smoked, the only other sound for a while was that of Wayne cracking open a beer. That’s what Eddie appreciated about Wayne, he didn’t need to fill the silence like his dad did, and Eddie didn’t need to either. He could just... exist.

“I don’t know what to do about it.” Eddie finally said a while later. “She only has an interest because her and some jock are trying to get each other dates.”

“Is that right?” Coming from anyone else that question would have been dismissive, a filler phrase to show that they were paying minimal attention. Eddie knew better though, which caused a knot of frustration in his gut.

“I guess.” he shrugged.

“How many dates has she gone on?” Wayne passed the beer to Eddie, who took a grateful sip.

“Don’t know. It didn’t sound like she’d been on many. Henderson said she’s picky.”

“But she likes you.”

“Yeah.”

Another long stretch of silence as Eddie stewed over the question. He hated how Wayne could break down his problems into simple questions.

“Don’t see why you’re moping around if she likes you.” Wayne glanced over at Eddie. “Are you sweet on her?”

Eddie snorted at the term, taking another drag from the cigarette and flicking the ashes off the porch. “She’s cute.” he said, thinking about how you’d looked the last few times he’d seen you. He might have been distracted that first night at the arcade, but not so distracted that he didn’t notice that at least. “Smart too. She got the guys to listen to her last time we hung out.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “She got Gareth to pay attention? That’s a damn miracle.”

“They liked her too.”

“More than the California girl?”

The question caught Eddie off guard and he looked up at Wayne who was still looking off in the distance. Eddie had never explained exactly to Wayne what had happened that first senior year, most of the details going to what happened with Al when Officer Morris was shot. They never talked about how Eddie was so damn close to packing everything up and running away to California.

Thinking about everything that happened that year still stung. Eddie had tried hard not to think about what could have been if CJ and Toby had just shown up one or two days later. Would Eddie have made it to the audition? Would they have really liked him? Maybe in another life he’d be signed and he’d be working on an album or on tour and him and Paige...

It didn’t matter, that ship had long since sailed. Eddie was no rock hero, and never would be. He tried to tell himself it was better this way, if anything it meant that his relationship with Al was over and done with which was a hollow victory if he was being honest.

“Definitely more than her.” Eddie finally agreed. You weren’t asking him to ditch the band and run away with you, so that had to give you some points for them, and for him. Dustin vouched for you, and even Mike, but he wasn’t sure how much that counted for yet. After all Dustin still seemed to worship Steve, and you were friends with Steve-

But did that actually matter? If you and Steve were close enough friends to help each other like this, and Steve was willing to vouch for Eddie, despite never having any real conversation just because Dustin said something-

“She gonna ask you to run away?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie again.

Sometimes he wondered if his uncle could secretly read minds.

“Doubt it.” Eddie said, “She works at the video store. I don’t know much about her, honestly.”

“So ask her on a date.”

“What?”

“She likes you, you want to get to know her. Ask her on a date. It’s not that complicated, Eddie.” Wayne dropped the cigarette on the porch and crushed it under his boot. “You always did think too much, always sucked up in your own world. You’ll be happier in the long run if you open up a bit.”

Easier said than done for a 20 year old still in high school that the whole town considered a satanic cult leader. Then again, when was the last time he’d really opened up to anyone other than Ronnie or Wayne? Right, his dad in the weeks before the heist.

“I think I fucked this up before I could even start.” Eddie sighed, snuffing out his own half finished cigarette. “She gave me her number and I never called.”

“Could’a grabbed a quarter from the change jar and used a pay phone.”

Eddie pressed his hands against his face and dragged them down slowly. Why did good advice always come too late for him?

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought back a new phone for the kitchen today.”

Eddie’s head snapped up so fast he should have snapped something, his eyes widening.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s a new used phone. Guy down the line from me offered it up and it’s better than nothing.”

Eddie didn’t care if it was a rotary phone, he’d take anything at this point if it meant that he could try to call you.

He wanted to call you.

He wanted to call you. Eddie didn’t care if you remembered that first time you met, did it even really matter? You had an interest in him, Eddie Munson, now.

“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie stood up and hurried inside, seeing the new old phone that was sitting on the counter. It took a few minutes of making sure it wouldn’t fall off the wall before he plugged it in and heard that sweet dial tone sound.

Eddie grabbed his copy of Lord of the Rings from his bedside table and pulled out the paper flower, looking at the number scribbled in his own chicken scratch. He didn’t trust himself to punch in the number without checking, no matter how many times he read the ten digits over the past two weeks.

It rang once.

Twice.

Six times.

No response.

“It’s late, she might be asleep.” Wayne said, grabbing a box of pasta from the cabinet.

It wasn’t that late, not even 8:30 yet. Eddie sighed and hung up the phone, crossing his arms as he thought about his next move. He’d always had tunnel vision when he got an idea into his head, from Corroded Coffin, to his campaigns, to a book that he wanted to read, it was hard to shake the urge when he got one.

Grabbing the keys from the counter he called over to Wayne “I’ll be back later.” which was responded to with a confirmation that he’d save some pasta for Eddie in the fridge.

There weren’t many places he could think of where you could be tonight. You hadn’t shown back up at the Hideout, and the arcade was closed this late on a weeknight. You could be at home, but Eddie didn’t remember where you lived and showing up to your place after two weeks of radio silence would definitely get him in trouble.

So he drove to Family Video.

If you were there he’d do.. something. If you weren’t he’d call you after school tomorrow. Eddie winced internally at the thought. He’d been trudging through school and dragging his feet for the past six years to graduate, and now was the time he felt childish about it. You could legally buy him a beer, and he could illegally sneak you a drink in the Hideout.

At a stoplight he swapped out the Black Sabbath tape for W.A.S.P., remembering that you had mentioned liking them. How did he continue to remember these small details about you?

Because she’s treated you like a human each time you’ve talked. It was startling how something so basic was such a big deal to him.

The lights were still on at Family Video, and the open sign was still lit up. He could see movement inside the store, and he caught sight of someone wearing the signature green vest that the employees wore.

He’d walk in, and if you were there he’d- fuck what the hell was he supposed to do? Eddie stared at the door from inside his van for a few minutes. It was past nine now, and he could have sworn that they should be closed now but that stupid sign was still on. That had to be a good sign right? Eddie wasn’t one to believe in stuff like that but maybe he’d be stupid to ignore a literal neon sign hanging in the door.

Okay, now or never. Eddie had never really been one to hesitate before and he wasn’t about to start now.

He made his way to the entrance and opened the door before he could think about what he was actually wanting to do. Eddie could improvise, it was one of the more useful skills that came from years of running Hellfire.

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” Your voice was a welcome sound, sealing the determination inside of him. No going back now.

“It was Steve’s job to-” your co-worker said. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place a name to the face.

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was the first to actually notice Eddie as he walked in, looking as if he was expecting literally anyone else.

Turning on the Freak, Eddie smirked at Steve. “Cursing in front of customers, Harrington? Now that’s not very professional of you.”

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips in a way that reminded Eddie of a mother hen. Steve did have a point, and so he decided to cut through any bullshit and looked over at you. You looked like you’d had a long shift, but the way you were looking at him... there was still the same shock that was on Steve’s face, but while his shock was laced with confusion yours was excited. As if you couldn’t believe that The Freak was here and that was a good thing.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie blurted out the request before he could think. He had no idea where you two would go or what you would do but he had to do something.

Your coworker nudged you in the ribs, and your expression changed to a more professional one.

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, looking at Steve for a split second.

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Eddie made a mental note to learn this girls name and send her a fucking gift basket one day.

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, reaching down to grab something from below the counter- your bag. Eddie felt himself growing more excited, his heart pounding as you tossed your work vest and keys over to them. They were basically shoving you out the door to spend time with him.

“We can handle it!” Steve said.

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You stepped out from behind the counter, looking up at him. The color of your eyes under the fluorescent lights reminded him of the stars he had been looking at earlier this evening. Eddie found himself smiling at you as you opened the door for him.

Someone was quick to lock the door and turn the OPEN sign off.

Eddie opens his van door for you, trying his best to make a good impression for whatever was about to happen. You hopped into the passenger seat and he thought that he might enjoy seeing you sitting next to him like this in his van more often.

---

Next Chapter

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#Nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #wing man

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shaunashipman · 4 months ago

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Eddie was definitely more queercoded than Buck. He is written as a repressed gay man in comphet relationships. Buck's queercoding mostly consisted of one-off jokes while Eddie's has been baked into all of his romantic storylines. Also no one is saying he's gay because he treats women poorly. The reason he inadvertently hurts his partners is because he is trying to force himself into relationships that will never work. Calling that homophobic is laughable because so many gay men have dated women as beards which obviously ends up hurting the women. It's just a fact. It's honestly homophobic the way so many bucktommy shippers are obsessed with eddie being straight even when a multitude of gay people see themselves in him. Or does the gay male perspective only matter when in concerns tommy lol

ok, I wasn't even going to get into this. idc if you see eddie is queer, that's your prerogative. but you brought this into my inbox.

to start with, there are plenty of bucktommy shippers who also think eddie is gay. and the ones who don't are not obsessed with eddie being straight, we're just tired of it being touted as the only possible reading and if you don't get that then you're stupid. kind of like how they are with buddie

also buck's queercoding has not been one-off jokes, y'all just seem to think that queercoding that isn't angsty is being played for jokes.

but let's get into the queercoding of eddie

"baked into all his romantic storylines" all 3 of them? that gigantic number? let's go through them.

shannon. yes, only married because they got pregnant. but they got pregnant through having sex, which eddie was shown, multiple times, to enjoy having with shannon, a woman. she left him (not going deeply into her reasons, I've talked about what I think of shannn and her leaving) and eddie's response was to devote himself to being a father, then moved across country to the same place she was, implicitly because he wanted to make up with her, but couldn't work up the courage until forced. when he did contact her, his initial refusal to let her see chris was both because he didn't yet trust her again with chris and because he didn't trust her with himself. while deciding whether or not to let her see chris, they were fucking like bunnies. again, that eddie was shown very much to enjoy, to the point that it is explicitly something he fantasized about in s7. after he let her see chris again, we didn't see as much of them, but what we did see was the actions of a normal couple. then she said she thought she was pregnant and he re-proposed. could it be that eddie simply felt trapped again? sure. but if that were the case he could have simply not began a relationship with her again to start with. he had the excuse ready baked in of "we need to focus on chris". then she turned out not to be pregnant, asked for a divorce and died, and he's spent the last 5-15 years mourning and pining for her.

ana. initially met as a teacher at chris' school who eddie had an immediate crush on. didn't go anywhere that season because she was chris' teacher. when they met again eddie's only hesitance to date her was framed as trauma from shannon divorcing him and dying. then we get to s5 and his panic attack. which most took as being about the "ready-made family". I took as, the shop worker called ana chris' mom, chris' mom died, ana could die, cue panic attack. the only part of this relationship that I can remotely see as being indicative of sexual repression is how the break up went, which could also just be a result of his slow breakdown which had already been cooking for several months.

marisol. who eddie perused after he got out of the date his tía set up, talked to some people and decided he was ready to date again. then we didn't really see them again until the nun episode. also the point where so many ignored the majority of the ep just because eddie was talking about religion. also basically the only time religion has come up for eddie in more than passing, despite religious repression supposedly playing a large role in his queercoding. again, a relationship where eddie is shown to enthusiastically enjoy sex with women. his sudden hesitance to have sex with marisol was completely about her having been a nun, which if anything is about the madonna/whore complex, not about eddie's sexuality. and then eddie fucks up the relationship due to the shannon!doppler, because he's still in love with shannon NOT because he's closeted.

so where is the plethora of queercoding in all his relationships? and if all his relationships are comphet, but he's never shown an attraction to men (and he hasn't, not objectively, because him "looking" at buck is not attraction) why is him being gay the only option? what about asexual? or aromantic? or even bisexual, since as I've pointed out, he clearly enjoys sex with women.

also his poor treatment of the women he dates can very easily be traced to him growing up in a very patriarchal household, where dad works to the detriment of not knowing his kids, mom's job is to take care of the kids, and he as the only boy was delegated to the "man of the house" at a very young age. an extremely common family dynamic, and one that despite working on in other aspects, eddie clearly still ascribes to in some way, by how he's continuously looking for a wife and a mother, not a partner. could be that he's gay, could be that he was raised in a misogynistic world.

If you see him as gay, great, good for you. but to insist that that's the only correct view is wrong. and since you ended with an "lol" showing how seriously you take this, I'm gonna end with this

ryan, the one who plays eddie, has said multiple times now that eddie is heterosexual. and before you start, oliver at no point ever referred to buck as straight before the bisexual arc so 🤷‍♀️

#cleo gets mail #anonymous #911 #911 discourse #eddie diaz #i don't even have strong feelings about eddie being gay or not #i have strong feelings about people insisting their subjective view of a story is the only view #when they also show themselves to ignore and twist other parts of canon to suit their views

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stagefoureddiediaz · 7 months ago

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I'm having a lot of thoughts and feelings about Eddie and clothing and being in the closet.

Because Eddie being shirtless is a thing - a thing that happens when he's in a spiral - and its always been a thing - right from his introduction. (and it kind of ties in with the black singlet - emotional vulnerability thing he has going on too)

Eddies introduction - him putting on a shirt - going from shirtless - to clothed - Eddie has upped his and CHristophers whole life an dmoved them to LA - he's been questioning if hes done the right thing - the shirt being put on - covering him up - is showing that it is the right thing - that the uniform is a safe space for him.

Then we have the Shannon of it all - they fall back into bed - and shirtless Eddie is spiralling out - not wanting to actually have the conversation about what they are doing (Shannon has to come to the firehouse to get that conversation to happen) he puts a tee back on so he can step back into dad mode.

Eddies fight club era - is a massive and obvious spiral that he is in - dealing with the death of Shannon and all his feelings around the fact she'd asked for a divorce, plus the fact that he could've lost his son in the tsunami, but Buck saved him and Eddie has complicated feelings developing there that he's not in a position to either recognise or deal with. We never see him put a shirt on here - just a zip front hoodie - that he doesn't zip up - symbolic of not actually dealing with anything - just sort of hiding it.

We also have a flashback scene in Eddie begins where he is shirtless in the militrary hospital - once more it is Eddie vulnerable and exposed and dealing with a traumatic event.

Then we have Eddie after leaving the 118 to work at dispatch - we see him start shirtless - essentially when he's at his most vulnerable and then as he finds a way to build up some new walls for himself we see the black singlet appear and then we move on to various tee his spiral happen - we never see him put a shirt on here - he does get into uniform, but its always cut to rather than watching him actually get dressed. He hasn't dealt with his issues at this point and the implication is the walls he's built up - that are letting him pretend to be fine are flimsy - then a bit later we get his breakdown

We get no shirtless Eddie in season 6 - its a season about him dealing with and healing from a large portion of his trauma.

In season 7 we've had him shirtless several times already. Firstly in the locker room - Eddie is shirtless whilst talking about first dates but then we get Eddie putting on his shirt - its denim - much more robust than anything we've seen him put on in this way before as soon as Buck reveals he's single.

Then when Marisol was moving in - not going to go into the parallels with Shannon here - and Eddie starts to spiral. We've already had the closet conversation by this point, so the fact that we have him shirtless essentially in the aftermath of that conversation is an interesting choice, we also don't see him putting on a shirt here! instead we are left with a visual representaion of a part of Eddie he had tried to keep locked up newly exposed.

And now we have this bachelor party - where it seems to be that Eddie is losing his shirt bit by bit (cannot wait to get the context for this!)and ending up in just the collar.

He wakes up in the bathtub in just the collar before he puts the suit jacket back on, in much the same way as he put the hoodie on back in season 3. Its an indicator that while he's covering things up, he isn't actually hiding them - that they are still visible for people to see if they go looking. And while I'm on that subject - the fact the collar is the thing he's left wearing - literally playing into the religious theming of Eddies vulnerability because it is screaming dog collar!

The show making such a clear visual indicator that connects to the last time we saw Eddie shirtless is very telling - its indicating to those looking, that Eddie might've asked Marisol not to move in and taken a step towards dealing with his catholic guilt, but the reality is that he hasn't dealt with it at all and that it is still very much a part of his story - his arc.

THere seems to be something in the soft underbelly of who Eddie Diaz is, that reveals its self for these brief moments, only to be covered up and hidden once more - with varying degrees of sucess. This season its especially loud and telling.

If we look at this season more closely - all of them are interesting moments, and all of them are connected to closets or defacto closets. The locker room - Eddie's locker is open while he is shirtless - he stands in front of it - a locker is a form of closet - its for storing his clothing etc while he's at work - a place where he stores is civvies - his real self. He only moves away from the locker and puts a shirt on, when the conversation moves from him onto to Buck - Bucks vulnerability is not Eddies and so he doesn't need to be shirtless - in fact he needs to not be - to shield himself from Bucks vulnerability.

Then we have the bedroom - which while not technically a closet, is Eddies safe space - a place where he can be his full self (in theory) and shirtless Eddie has one of his biggest vulnerabilities revealed in that scene - its so big that he cannot cover it up and hide it - his catholic guilt. This is the first time we're seeing Eddie's room since Buck was in there at the end of season 5 helping patch the holes in the walls. It makes sense that Eddie having a moment where his catholic guilt is revealed becasue even if it isn't directly a closet it - indirectly because he was going to start putting things in his closet - was going to let Marisol into his closet.

The implications of him not being able to let Marisol into his closet are pretty telling in my opinion. Even the fact that she was coming with her own armoire is in and of itself speaks volumes

And now we have bachelor party Eddie - kicking in metaphorical closet doors (whilst kicking in actual closed doors) and falling asleep in bath tubs whilst wearing pink!

The pink in combination with this idea that Eddie is vulnerable and heading towards dealing with his catholic guilt in the same way that he was heading towards dealing with his other trauma before. Pink - as I've talked about in the season 7 costume meta's is the colour of naivety or innocence. yes there is the idea that Eddie (and probably by extension, Buck) will be innocent in whatever ends up happening with Chimney.

But there is also the idea that this innocence and naivety plays into the fact we're seeing a lot of Eddie shirtless and the play into his vulnerability as well as Eddies catholic guilt and all the closet references. This idea that Eddies naively trying to ignore his catholic guilt, ignore his vulnerablity as well as the fact that his catholic guilt stems back to his childhood - when he was effectively an innocent.

yeah I have a lot of thoughts on all of it

#shirtless Eddie meta #the show is always so intentional with when they show them shirtless - that goes for Buck and Chimney etc as well #Eddies queer journey is getting under way #I didn't put this under a cut becasue who doesn't want shirtless Eddie gifs filling their dash!!!#eddie diaz #911 spoilers #911 abc #911 costume meta #sort of!

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lesbianrobin · 4 months ago

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non-exhaustive list of films that would cause eddie diaz to have a mental breakdown and/or cry so hard he throws up:

moonlight (2016). self explanatory.

the only son (1936). eddie might actually kill himself if he watched this. he would just be silent for like hours after watching and that night he would just stand in christopher's doorway watching him sleep for like minimum forty-five minutes. he would exist in a state of profound pessimism and melancholy until he saw buck again at which point he would forget about all of that and be normal. sometimes in his life he will randomly remember the only son (1936) and be like chris. you know that i'll be proud of you no matter what you do with your life right. all i want is for you to be happy. and chris will be like yeah.... why are you talking like we're in a movie and you have a terminal illness. and eddie's like i'm not talking like that i'm being normal. i'm a father. and chris is like ok weirdo. and eddie feels better.

the babadook (2014). self explanatory.

4th man out (2015). he would be like this movie is so dumb it's So dumb and then 1. cry when adam comes out to his mom and 2. get deeply invested in the relationship between adam and nick and when they kiss toward the end he'd be like YESSSSS but then when they laugh it off and say they're just friends he'd be like oh..... and feel really upset about it for reasons he cannot explain. he would rant to buck/chim/hen/bobby for like fifteen minutes about how the whole movie was CLEARLY leading up to a romantic conclusion between them and the writers were just being cowards for going with the best bros ending and buck would be like EXACTLY and everyone else would be like 👀😳 and hen would be like well i think they were trying to make the point that gay men can still have close intimate friendships with other men without it being sexual and eddie would be like okay well then those guys shouldn't have had so much chemistry!! and chim would be like yknow some might say that you and buck have good chemistry. and buck would be like we do <3 and eddie would be like hell yeah we do and they'd fuckin fist bump or something and the entire firehouse is like oh my GODDDDDD.

but i'm a cheerleader (1999). self explanatory.

brokeback mountain (2005). self explanatory.

captain america: the winter soldier (2014). eddie reacts So strongly to this movie and nobody understands it (including eddie) except for buck who immediately and instinctively understands that eddie is projecting onto both steve rogers and bucky barnes but only the sad lonely soldier losing himself and hurting the people he loves against his will parts + completely bypassing the hero parts. also steve's like "even when i had nothing i had bucky" and eddie is like hhhhhhhhh...

the pit, the pendulum and hope/kyvadlo, jáma a naděje (1983). okay look. i'm aware that nobody knows what this is. it is a short film inspired by edgar allan poe's "the pit and the pendulum" and auguste villiers de l'isle-adam's "a torture by hope." you should all go watch it but if you don't let me just tell you that eddie would have another panic attack and/or throw up.

the lord of the rings: return of the king (2003). self explanatory.

#em talks #eddie diaz #911

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disjointed-art · 11 months ago

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Catch my breath part 3: Bloom pages 10-11

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SUNDAY UPDATE!!! I finished these pages and couldn’t wait anymore 🤭

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TW: Death/suicide: Nancy has a breakdown about Steve’s illness killing him and the wording is similar to suicide so please take care of yourselves!

—

We are getting there folks! The boys are being forced to spend time together!!!

Eddie speaking facts when he says no one is to blame for Steve’s illness or the anxiety Steve has towards treatment! This was a lesson I had to learn about my own shit and honestly this whole comic is coming to terms with allowing others to care for you when you need help. We love projecting in our art :p

Tumblr posts for the comic here or the easy full parts here on kofi

Monday updates usually unless I’m a goober and post early 🥰

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rainylana · 2 years ago

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“Pinky promise.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: you can only keep it in for so long without him knowing how shitty your life had been, and when the dam breaks, he’s there to help.

warnings: reader’s parents are getting divorced and has siblings, mentions of unhealthy eating habits and exhaustion, angst to fluff, talk of panic attacks, reader has a breakdown:( language.

a/n: hey there:) i know! it’s been a while since i posted and i’m sorry for that. i just didn’t feel like writing. but here i am:) it! i missed you all!:))) drop by in my inbox for any requests or questions or anything! i’d love to hear from you<3 i’m really happy with how this turned out and i hope you love it as much as i do! it tugs on the heart strings:)

taglist!

@phantomxoxo @imdoingbetternow @eddiemania @eddiemunson @ohlovelyhollow @tessiemessie @rovckwell @delilahtaylorsverson @aa-li-yah @ches-86 @xx-hospitalforsouls-xx-blog @kellysimagines @blowing-mikey @underthebatcape @lillianofliterature @noturmom15 @supercalifragilisticprincess @tripthlightfantastic @edzmunsonswife @itiscj @hearts4laura @livasaurasrex @mic429 @avobabe87 @flowers-and-tsukki @lexthemess21 @nothisispatric @heeyitsg @genuine-possum @fvcking-gxddess @kneelforloki @actuallybarb @justaproudslytherpuff @no0neknowsm3 @cosmic-lavender @your-starless-eyes-remain @bellasfavoritesweatpants @antigoneidk @averysblog @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @chaos-incorp @kaqua @softyutae @ahzysauce @imangy @ultimate-sdmn-trash @fionnthebandersnacc @imabadarsebard @catherinnn @cheri86

Eddie didn’t know how bad it was. And it wasn’t because he was oblivious or not smart enough to see. You were just that good of an actor. You truly knew deep down that he would not berate you for feeling the way you did, but the last thing you wanted to be was seen as an unstable girlfriend just looking for attention. But things really had been bad, and it all seemed to pile up on each other.

You found yourself getting mad at little things, your anxiety ticking away like an explosive ready to detonate. Your dreams were plagued with nightmares that lasted all night long, and damn it, you just found it hard to get up in the morning.

But Eddie, the poor boy, didn’t have a clue about your struggles. You kept up a smile at all times. You laughed and played your part like you were supposed to. Just because you were having a difficult time didn’t mean you had to bring down his party, or anyone else’s, for that matter.

It’s just your parents divorce was finally getting to you. You were happy they were calling it quits, as were your siblings, but the days up until it’s finalization was brutal. The fighting and screaming was endless and your siblings were scared and didn’t understand. You couldn’t concentrate in class and you failed a test that you’d thought you were going to pass. You were having panic attacks almost on the daily. You spilled grape juice on your white socks. It was just one thing after another.

Of course, Eddie did know about your parent’s separation, but any time he brought it up, you chalked it up to him believing you were taking it well. You were a good actress. Today however, your dam would break, because you could only take so much.

“You didn’t bring me a surprise snack today?” Dustin’s big eyes widened in a playful sadness that quirked your lips up in a smirk. “But you always bring me a surprise snack! What else am I going to have for dessert!”

“You’re cleaning out my girlfriend’s pantry, Henderson.” Eddie’s chair tipped backwards as he threw a pretzel at his friend across the cafeteria table. “Can’t you bring your own shit?”

“Sorry, bud.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, looking in your empty lunchbox. “If it makes you feel any better, I forgot my stuff too.”

Eddie internally frowned and scooted his snack over to you, pointing so you could eat. Gareth was rambling on about the movies playing at the cinema that weekend, so you didn’t speak to interrupt him, but you smiled softly as you picked up a pretzel. The cafeteria buzzed with loud conversation, making your head hurt worse than it already did. You weren’t eating as well as you should be, and you knew that wasn’t benefiting your mood, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

You felt guilty for being dramatic. You were being dramatic. Others had it worse, that was always what you told yourself, so there was no reason to wallow in your own misery. But god, all you wanted to do was lay your head on the table and plug your ears so hard that they bled and you wouldn’t have to hear a sound.

So instead, you forced yourself to smile and eat, leaning over to squeeze Eddie’s hand while Gareth continued holding the talking stick.

•

Your fingers were tapping anxiously against the steering wheel of your vehicle, head thrown back as you tried not to loose your shit. It was almost seven o’clock in the evening. You were parked outside of the school debating whether or not to go inside to find Eddie. Tears were rolling down your face, nose stuffy and crusted from your previous meltdown.

Your little sister came to you crying again, talking about how she’d overheard your parents screaming about who was going to have custody. It was the same old tune between them. You didn’t worry about custody, but the kids did, and that didn’t make it right. They were too young to hear that kind of thing and if absolutely broke your heart. She’d cried in your arms until she fell asleep in your bed, and then you broke.

It was just so stressful. Every little thing seemed a million times harder to accomplish. Simple tasks seemed almost unbelievable to approach. You just wanted a good nights sleep. You didn’t know how you ended up outside of the school, but Eddie was there. It was hellfire night, and damn it, you just couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him. You tried to wipe your tears as best as you could, wrapping your flannel sleeves around your torso as you scurried into the school. You had a quick walk to your step as your heart beat loudly in your ear.

Just the sound of his voice was enough to calm you, and you leaned against the door to take a few deep breaths and to wipe at your face. You began to regret coming over. He was having fun. His voice was loud and booming, the puppet master commanding his puppets to follow his every wish. You were about to ruin it.

Everyone’s eyes looked up when the door creaked open, and a wide smile beamed onto Eddie’s face at the sight of you. “There’s my princess!” He clapped his hands. “Come on, come on, we’re just getting started.” He waved you over.

The lights were dim enough that he couldn’t see the emotions on your face. You dug your nails in your palm was you walked over to his throne, smiling your best at the boy’s greetings. When you got to Eddie’s side, his free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he shook dice in his other hand. You had a lump in your throat that continued to build.

“Eddie,” You said softly, your voice cracking as you looked down bashfully. “Can I talk to you?”

He peeked up a little but didn’t look at you fully. “Yeah, baby, just give me one second.”

You melted more into his side, bringing up your fingers to naw on. You felt like you were going to faint. Your eyes began to burn and you squeezed his shoulder. He laughed loudly at everyone’s dismay at the roll of his dice. He looked up at you to see you laugh, but he wasn’t met with that. His eyes narrowed and his lips parted at the sight of your tearful eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He panicked, scooting back in his chair.

Your face crumpled and you shook your head, crossing your arms shamefully in embarrassment. You looked so small and you hated yourself for it. He grabbed your elbows and scanned over your face, gulping in his own anxiety.

“Y/n, hey-” He looked over to the door across the room, and he cupped your cheek and turned you around to guide you to privacy.

Once he shut the door, leaving the guys confused and whispering back and forth, he turned around and stepped toward you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He frowned deeply, voice an octave higher in concern.

You only buried yourself in his arms, sobbing in his shoulder like a little girl who couldn’t find her parents. Ironic.

“Hey, hey,” He wrapped his arms right around you. “What happened? What’s going on?”

It felt so nice to be held by him, like all your problems were going to melt away like snow in the spring. “Everything.” You blubbered against his jean jacket, his chin tucked aside of your head. “It’s everything, Eddie. Everything’s falling apart.”

He squeezed you tighter when you let out a string of wincing sobs, eyes narrowed in confusion at your sudden breakdown. “What’s falling apart, baby? Talk to me. Tell me what happened.” He rubbed your back soothingly.

You pushed your face into his chest so you didn’t have to breath, squeezing your eyes shut and your nose scrunching up where it hurt. You shook your head, whimpering, and he rocked you softly as he held the back of your head.

“Did someone hurt you?” He spoke with a protective tone.

You shook your head quickly. He didn’t need to start anymore fights. Your head pounded from the lack of air you allowed yourself, and Eddie’s eyes narrowed when you gulped loudly. He gently pulled you away and widened his eyes at your pale face. “Take a breath, baby.” He cupped each side of your face.

Your waists ghosted each other’s and his elbows nearly touched your shoulders as he held your face, wiping away tears as you sniffled and carried on. “I’m sorry.” You spewed, sobbing in his grasp.

“No, no,” He shook his head, whispering softly with a breath. “Don’t. You’re okay.”

He waited a minute for the color to return to your face, holding and softly rocking you as you tried to control your emotions. He wiped away each tear and tucked away strands of your soft hair. Once you began to calm down, you could barely look him in the eye.

“It’s my parents.” You blinked down to his stomach. “They’re fighting.”

“Fighting?” He rubbed the space behind your ear.

“A lot.” You forced out with a shake in your voice. “Like..like all the time and the kids are scared.”

Eddie’s heart swelled when you wouldn’t look at him. This sudden admittance about your family was shocking. As far as he had known, it was going smoothly.

“Bethy is worried about who’s going to custody over us,” Your eyes burned and you pressed your hand against your face, sobbing. “Eddie, all they do is fight. It’s constant and- and I don’t know how to make the girls feel any better. I feel so guilty and it’s- it’s not my job to make them f-feel better. Mom and dad should be doing that.”

Eddie rubbed up and down your arms as he listened to you, soft brown eyes pierced with concern and worry.

“And i’ve been having panic attacks.” You burned shamefully, barely looking up at him through wet lashes. “I keep waking up in the middle of the night just- just terrified and I don’t know why. My heart races so fast and I feel so..so freaked out and it scares me so bad.”

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, his thumb circulating your brow. “I can’t eat and I just- I just feel so tired all the time. My grades are slipping and I don’t even have fucking energy to take a shower.”

You covered your face with your hands and looked up to the ceiling with a groan. “And I spilled grape juice on my socks.”

It took Eddie a minute before he could figure out his next move. You didn’t blame him. You dumped a boatload of information on him when he’d fully believed everything in your life was peachy keen. He sighed deeply in guilt before he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into him.

“Fuck- baby, I’m so sorry.” He sighed regretfully, burying his face in your shaking shoulders. “I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.”

“It’s not your fault.” You sank into him. “I’m the one who’s been keeping it from you.”

“Why?” He kissed your temple, rubbing up and down your back.

“I didn’t want to bother you with my..well, my shitty life. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

Eddie pulled away to lift your chin up toward him, his eyes looking into yours. “You’re my girl, y/n. I’m always going to worry about you. I wish you would of told me about all this. I would have helped you.”

“I know.” You whimpered shamefully. “I’m sorry.”

“Quit that.” He gave your head a little shake, rocking your waist gently. “You have nothing to apologize for. You just need to tell me these things, okay? If you’re suffering then I want to know about it.”

God, he was amazing. You felt foolish for not letting him take care of you sooner. You blushed and leaned your forehead on his chin, groaning softly as your tears dried. “Why are you so perfect, Eddie? I’m an ugly mess.”

He ignored your statement with a roll of his eyes, shifting his weight and moving to lean against the cement wall, allowing you to fully and comfortably relax against him. “How long have you been having panic attacks?” His legs were kicked out slightly, yours atop of his as you cuddled his chest.

“A few weeks.” You said with a shameful mutter. “I thought I was having a heart attack at first. I got so close to going to the hospital.”

Eddie closed his eyes in disbelief. “Jesus, baby, I’m so sorry.” He hugged you. “Please, promise me you’ll let me know when you start feeling that way, please? I hate that you’ve been suffering alone.”

You nodded and held up your pinky, Eddie’s chest vibrating with an amused chuckle. He brought up his hand and wrapped his larger, callused finger around yours and gave it a gentle shake. “Pinky promise.” You kissed the tip of his finger.

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