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deathbecomesthem · 2 hours

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I like the idea of Eddie respecting wildlife, and wildlife just absolutely fucking with him at every opportunity. I don't know why, but it makes sense to me.

Kiss the Cook 4 | 2.3K

linecook!Eddie Munson x server!reader

Summary: It's just you and Eddie working on a lazy Wednesday morning. Until an unexpected guest throws a wrench in the gears.

A/N: This might seem a little out of place in this current series, but it's an older piece I wrote many moons ago. Based on a mostly true Thanatos server experience.

As usual, you leave the cream colored coffee mug at the prep station next to the fruit cup that Eddie’s prepared for you. His back is still turned, he’s throwing down a case of bacon to fry off before opening. This time of the day, his clothes are clean and fresh and his hair is still damp from his morning shower. His hair is pulled up in a bun that sits a little higher than normal, and it gives you a good view of the fine hairs at the back of his neck. Little soft curls that cling to his skin just above the place where his shoulders work underneath his crisp white shirt.

The tattoo there has always been something that you’ve noticed, but you’ve never gotten the chance to really see it until now. It’s a sword, the hilt of which can barely be seen through the curls that rest at the nape of his long neck. The blade looks sharp enough to cut, and it reaches straight down his spine. You wonder about it, and hope there’s a day when you’ll get to see the tip of that blade, wherever it may be.

You’re thinking about reaching out to touch his neck. - let your fingertips feel the skin and hair - when he turns away from the grill and the meat that’s already begun to spit. He seems totally unaware of your gaze, even now with his profile in full view. You could already be sitting on the curb out back puffing through your pre-opening cigarette, but this is a rare thing getting to study him so intensely in a quiet moment.

“You gonna stand there and stare all morning, or do you wanna go smoke before this place turns into a zoo?” You can feel heat in your face immediately, and hope he doesn’t turn to look at how you’re reacting to his teasing. You were caught, but also, he was letting you look. Your stomach does a flip at the thought of it, and you wonder how long he’s known that you’ve been taking all of the sly glances you can.

“I was just waiting for you,” you spin on your heels and head towards the back door before Eddie can look at you, “whenever you’re done screwing around with your meat, I’ll be out here.” Eddie’s low giggle follows you through the back door. The 90 seconds between when you sit on the concrete and when Eddie opens the back door to join you is enough time to consider that he was flirting with you. Openly. That’s new. You think it’s new, anyway. Maybe you’ve just been missing it.

It’s with a heavy sigh that Eddie sits down next to you on the low to the ground curb, his long legs extended so his knees don’t sit up high under his chin. He’s long, like a stretched out cat dressed in his still clean black denim and cotton shirt. He’s close enough for you to smell the soap that still clings to his skin from his morning shower, and the deodorant he must have put on directly after.

“So. I’ve been thinking about something.” Eddie’s fumbling hands are reaching around in his apron pocket while a Camel dangles from his lips. You extend your green Bic, flame lit, to his cigarette. Eddie smiles around the paper filter, his eyes flick from you to the end of his cigarette where the cherry burns to life. “Thank you,” he whispers on an exhale, his full focus back to you.

“What have you been thinking about Eddie?” You push your shoulder against his. As always, it’s a way to connect your bodies in a mundane and friendly way. You think it might be your imagination, but you could swear you can feel his body heat through his and your own layer of clothing. He’s gotten shy now, eyes focused on the asphalt parking lot in front of him. His long fingers are twirling the lit cigarette around while you wait for his answer.

“Well,” the word comes out in a higher pitch than normal, he clears his throat, “well, I was thinking maybe we could go out sometimes. Just you and me, like uh -” he brings his eyes back to yours, gauging your reaction, “- I’m sorry, I’m shit at this. It’s ok if you say no, I don’t want it to be weird at work or anything.”

“I don’t know how anything could be weird when you haven’t actually said anything outside of wanting to go out. Sure, Ed, we can go out. We’re friends aren’t we?” You can’t hold back the snicker that laces your words. Eddie’s so cute, his cheeks are pink and his eyes are pleading. He looks like a boy instead of the 26 year old man that he is, and he’s begging you for mercy.

“You’re torturing me on purpose, and it’s not nice.” No, it’s not nice, but it’s having its intended effect. Eddie wants to take you on a date, and you can’t care that the words are too hard for him to say when his face is so close to your own. When his lips, oh he can definitely see that you’re looking at them, are so pretty. He’s close enough that you can see the stubble across his top lip. Fresh shave this morning, but the light of the sunrise is starting to make the tiny hairs sparkle.

“I’m sorry, Ed,” both of your cigarettes are burned to the filter, and you know it’s at least a couple of minutes past opening time. You can’t find it in yourself to care. You have a wild thought about asking him to flick work with you. To go for a long walk and hold hands. Your thoughts get wilder when you notice his eyes flick down to your mouth as if in question. Unconsciously doing the same thing your own eyes have been doing to Eddie’s lips. Are we going to kiss out here on this curb while the sun is still hiding behind the trees?

Your thought is answered and the moment is broken. The sound of a familiar voice mumbling a curse accompanied by a fist loudly knocking against glass. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s 3 minutes past opening, and Jimmy is right on time as always. The retiree that sits at the corner of the counter for the first hour of the diner’s business, and has been doing so since the week of the grand opening 15 years ago, is ready for his morning’s coffee.

“Sorry, Jimmy, I’ll be up front in 30 seconds!” You shout around the corner of the building from your spot on the curb, neck craned in the direction of Jimmy’s grumbling before slapping your knees and standing up. You look down at Eddie and find that his gaze has returned to the tree line beyond the parking lot. He lets out a chuckle and pulls out another cigarette while you pat the top of his head in goodbye. By the time you get Jimmy's coffee and cruller, Eddie will be inside to fry up his eggs. You wonder, as you step back in through the metal door, whether the words between you and he will mean anything, or will be forgotten as the day moves forward.

–

You’re perched on a barstool at the counter, Jimmy is the only company you have when it happens. Eddie’s smoke break took longer than was reasonable, and you stepped out of your assigned role to make two sloppily fried over medium eggs for the old guy. You didn’t mind, you assumed this was just one of those mornings. Sometimes, Eddie is pensive. You only wished there was a way to relieve him of his duties for the day so he could get a real break.

The sound of the back door opening draws your attention towards the kitchen while your hands mindlessly pull out a knife, fork, and spoon to roll into the paper napkin in front of you. Immediately you realize something is wrong, because the familiar sounds of Eddie stomping are replaced with a choked off scream and - possibly the sound of a scuffle of some kind.

“What the hell -” before Jimmy can’t get out his thought, he too recognized that something was wrong in the small hallway that holds the back door and bathrooms, Eddie’s high pitched yelling freezes you in your spot. A split second later, your fear has you on your feet and sprinting towards the cacophony.

“Motherfucking son of a bitch!” Eddie hollers before throwing open the swinging kitchen door, narrowly missing your face. A small red blur passes in front of you before you catch sight of Eddie. He is standing in front of the men’s room door with his shirt pulled half over his head and his apron tangled in his arms. Your brain cannot make sense of the sounds and sights you’ve just experienced, and then you hear the voice of another man shouting at the opposite end of the restaurant.

“Christ Almighty!” Jimmy sounds less frantic than Eddie did a moment ago, but no less surprised. Your feet are moving again, letting the swinging door close on the disheveled line cook. Your mind is working to make sense of things when you round the corner to enter the dining room and find your foot skidding against something slick. A quick look down tells you it’s - what the fuck - bird shit.

There’s a bird loose in the restaurant. A bird. And the two men here are screaming messes.

You head back to the dining room and grab a broom before you make your way into the dining room to save an old man from the bird menace. The crashing of silverware tells you that things are not chill, and you’re ready for it. You think you’re ready for it until a flash of red feathers swoops down at your head as you remember to step over the spot of shit left on the linoleum.

“What the fuck.” Your attempt to bat the bird away from your head with the broom, it’s a cardinal - you can see it clearly now, results in you breaking a bulb in one of the hanging lamps that are throughout the dining room. Glass rains down on your shoulders, and you have at least enough sense to shake it off rather than use your fingers to brush at it. “Can birds have rabies?”

“No!” Jimmy answers your rhetorical question from the opposite end of the dining room. You see that his coffee mug and plate of eggs are spilled on the floor next to his abandoned barstool, “but this one is fucking possessed! I flew right at my head like it was out for blood!”

–

The battle of the bird vs. Eddie Munson lasted 2 hours. Casualties included one lightbulb, a glass coffee urn, a set of salt and pepper shakers, a ceramic coffee mug, a tray of donuts (bird shit), and the ceramic plate that held Jimmy’s poorly made over medium eggs. You and Eddie tried and failed to catch the terrified creature dozens of times before opening both the front and back doors and returning to the spot at the curb where Eddie almost managed to ask you out on a date before the chaos began. It took less an 5 minutes for Mr. Cardinal to find the exit, swooping down at Eddie’s head as a final “fuck you”.

“What did I do to deserve that bird’s rage?” Eddie’s hair is a mess, and you can’t help but wonder if he had managed to do something that has resulted in this avian vendetta. “I say we clean up and call this day a loss. Charlie can kiss my ass if he has a problem with it.”

“Charlie won’t care. We already lost breakfast to a bird.” Your words came out with a giggle. Eddie caught the itch of laughter. The post bird drama hysterics had you both hunched over in gasping laughter until the thought of your lost wages made your smile fade. “I’m gonna make Charlie pay me kitchen wages for today.”

Eddie hummed in agreement with the sentiment. You certainly deserve it, especially considering what it will take to get the bird shit out of your non-slip footwear’s sole. When you go to stand, finally deciding it was time to clean and get as far away from the war zone as possible, you’re stopped by a soft grasp of Eddie’s calloused hand on your forearm. You look at him and find his gaze firmly on yours, and not looking out past the tree line.

“How about we clean up and go out to lunch somewhere? My treat?” A battle well fought has given Eddie the nerve to ask the question he’s been wanting to ask for months. Even now, when he knows your answer, butterflies’ wings beat in his chest as the silence after his question is asked fills the air.

“Ok. But only if we can get some ice cream after.”

#tom💜#self rb #comments

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deathbecomesthem · 6 hours

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dude pitifulbaby has a linecook edit of eddie just sayingggggggggggg~

Edit in question here.

Oh yes, he plagues the minds of so many of us. He belongs in the kitchen, and I will put him there as often as possible.

#thanatos speaks #ask #linecook!eddie munson

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deathbecomesthem · 6 hours

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Sometimes I am really sad about the subtext, meaning and depth that gets lost whenever (potential)/(ex)love interests have a scene together and all the shipping madness interferes with actually getting to the core of a scene.

Like the six little nuggets scene.

Steve Harrington, who's a teenager with normal teenage problems to solve and to grow from, who was close to death so many times in the past four years, who only ever loved one person and since then has been on one date after another unable to establish a connection with meaning again, who upon driving a stolen mobile home, covered in cuts and bites and bruises to prepare for interdimensional battle sitting next to the only person he ever loved gets sentimental about his future.

About what could have been. What he probably had once dreamed about in the quiet of his bedroom and now, in this very exact moment in this stolen mobile home with the possibility of death around the corner, he dreams again. Of a future.

Does it matter at this moment in time how he and Nancy parted?

Does it matter that both of them know that this future isn't going to happen because of who they are, who they are to each other and what lies ahead of them?

Does it matter that Nancy didn't tell him to stop, didn't tell him: No, Steve, never, Steve! while her friend was scared to die and grieving?

What matters at this moment is that Steve Harrington wants to live!

What matters at this moment is that Steve Harrington needs something to cling to to not lose his mind in a mind-bending situation and it happens to be the fantasy of a teenager who has barely lived at all.

I love that scene.

And every other scene that Steve and Nancy share in Season 4. Because they care for each other after everything that happened, because they find each other again in this moment in time to be there for each other in crisis. Are there emotions flooding back in? Of course. Nancy and Steve are caring, loving people. And after everything that happened since Season 1, it would be odd if there weren't some sparks of tenderness. Some soft looks. Some oh's and ah's about the way the other changed and in what ways they haven't.

People are complex, teenagers are messy, emotions are what they are.

I know it's become a common custom to call the Duffer brothers and their team bad writers and I strongly disagree with that notion. (could write an essay just about that)

There is so much depth in those stories.

Steve wants to live. He wants to live so badly.

#steve

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deathbecomesthem · 6 hours

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Everyone says they want an inclusive fan space, but they don't want to do the work.

"Oh yes, I want everyone to feel welcome of course, but only if it requires zero forethought and absolutely no conversations that might call me out personally as a white woman that looooovvveeeessss cock."

#thanatos speaks #fandom shit #and don't tell me i'm being a bitch #that's literally the point

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deathbecomesthem · 11 hours

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i think a lot of white queer/trans people need to hear that "breaking gender norms" isnt just wearing a dress while masc or dying your hair. its also unlearning the beauty standards that impose ideals of white beauty and attractiveness on non-white folks. yes you have a nose ring but i just heard you tell your black friend with meticulously cared for natural hair "you'd just look so nice with straight hair is all im saying..." why does your blog fetishizing i mean uh. appreciating trans women only feature skinny white women who pass. when societal gender norms are so inextricably tied to whiteness and emulating whiteness it is not enough to simply change your aesthetic. you need to defy the gender norms in your own head too.

#all of this

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deathbecomesthem · 1 day

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Eddie Munson is such the perfect muse for me. He's so moldable. I could see him taking so many paths (because he very much survived season 4, thank you very much).

Blue collar? Yes. I see that. It makes perfect sense. He's obviously skilled with his hands. School was hard for him, for whatever reason. I can see him learning a trade.

Restaurant work/bartending? Makes perfect sense to me. It's easy to step into one of those roles, and the skills you learn mean you can find work anywhere. I could see him traveling around, looking for his place, while he slings booze or pancakes. Plus, having a weed hookup in a restaurant is essential - he'd do well in that environment.

GED to Community College to higher degree path - this isn't one I see a whole lot in the fandom, but I think it's possible. A shitty little town like Hawkins isn't somewhere someone like Eddie Munson could thrive academically, but he's a smart guy. And given time and commitment, anyone can make that educational path work. (Especially back when higher education wasn't so financially out of reach, like it is today)

Eddie, my love. He has so much potential for a good story. I love telling them.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson imagine

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deathbecomesthem · 1 day

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I am once again thinking about putting some makeup on Eddie's eyes. Dark eyeshadows smudged around those big brown eyes. Some red mascara coating those long lashes.

I yearn.

#i need to get to the point in exile in guyville when the reader does his makeup #the reader isn't a makeup person #eddie has to teach them #it's a whole thing i have planned out in my head

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deathbecomesthem · 1 day

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MALCOLM IN THE MIDDLE 2.01 Traffic Jam

#also same

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deathbecomesthem · 1 day

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I yearn for a kind of gentle affection I haven't experienced in a long time. Someone to brush my hair or scratch my back. Someone that would lay on the couch with me and watch a movie. Nothing sexual at all, but the kind of affection I would share with my mother, sister, child, or friend. I haven't had that in a long time.

#thanatos speaks #personal #this is why i yearn

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deathbecomesthem · 1 day

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He crawls into your lap as you’re playing another game on the teal Switch held tightly between your hands.

The tv is muffled as the earbuds fill your ears with the sounds of your character running through the halls of the hospital featured in the horror game that has held your attention for most of the day.

Eddie sinks his head into the pillow now resting on your legs, pulls the mustard-colored throw blanket up to his chin as he settles on your lap and focuses on the tv again.

You watch as another cutscene begins, one hand leaving its hold on the Switch to run throw Eddie’s damp curls.

You feel the deep breath he takes in before a sigh leaves him as your fingers begin their journey along the faded scars running from his cheek to below his jaw, fingertips kissing as they move up and down.

After a few strokes he grabs your hand in his , bringing it to his lips, smacking a loud kiss to the palm of your hand, breathing you in with eyes closed. His eyes meet yours over your hands, happiness filling the depths of those brown eyes, before turning back towards the tv and letting your hand go.

No words are spoken or needed as you both exist in each other’s space, resting contently on the well-loved olive couch, where touch is more than enough for now.

#chelsea💜#older eddie my love

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deathbecomesthem · 1 day

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Veronica Mars Hot Dogs | 1.19

#Veronica Mars

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deathbecomesthem · 1 day

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I'm watching The Autopsy of Jane Doe for the first time tonight. I never thought it would interest me, and then someone kinda spoiled a bit of the plot. So, here we go.

It is actually firmly in my realm of interest.

#thanatos speaks #horror film

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deathbecomesthem · 1 day

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Linecook Eddie is the love of my life. I'm so glad you love him too. I will revisit him often. Thank you!

Kiss the Cook 4 | 2.3K

linecook!Eddie Munson x server!reader

Summary: It's just you and Eddie working on a lazy Wednesday morning. Until an unexpected guest throws a wrench in the gears.

A/N: This might seem a little out of place in this current series, but it's an older piece I wrote many moons ago. Based on a mostly true Thanatos server experience.

–

There’s a bird loose in the restaurant. A bird. And the two men here are screaming messes.

–

“Ok. But only if we can get some ice cream after.”

#luna💜#comments #self rb

157 notes · View notes