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try-set-me-on-fire · 7 months

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Tagged by @rewritetheending @eddiebabygirldiaz and @wildlife4life for fuck it Friday, so fuck it I’ll reveal the concept for what the new wip is about… what if a classic near death confession but Buck isn’t the one Eddie gives the confession to…

Eddie’s eyes open, look straight into his, and his next words are remarkably clear. “I love him, Bobby.”

“No,” he shakes his head, a strange and frantic panic bubbling up inside him. “You can’t tell me this- you can’t tell me this-“ a hundred smiles shift slightly to the left in Bobby’s memory. It’s barely a surprise, really, he picked Eddie out for Buck himself, years and years ago. He thought they’d make a fine pair. “You have to- we’re getting out of here and you’re telling him yourself, you can’t-“ He remembers holding Buck after the well collapsed. He remembers watching the kid’s heart crack open and having the irrational thought that Bobby had to be ready to catch the pieces when they fell out of him so they wouldn't get muddy. “Don’t make me do this.”

"Please." Eddie's gaze is getting swimmy. "He has…" God, there's blood in his mouth, it's coating his teeth. "H- he needs to know he’s loved- I didn’t get the chance-“ Eddie’s inhale is a rattle, he makes a sound that’s sort of a laugh and sort of a sob without enough air for either. “I didn’t get the chance. He- he’s everything- he deserves- please, please you have to- to tell him-“

“Eddie,” Bobby says, his own voice cracking. “Don’t-“

Eddie’s hand squeezes, once, where it’s still limply grasped around Bobby’s arm. His eyes search and then focus. “Please.”

He says it like Bobby asked if he wanted toast with his eggs. It’s the ease of it, the lack of desperation, that has Bobby saying “Alright, okay, just- I promise, Eddie, now you just stay with me and we’re going to get out of here.”

@tayf-ghost @jeeyuns @devirnis @shitouttabuck @forthewolves @anxieteandbiscuits if you have anything to share!

#eddie Diaz classic avoidance maneuver die before you have to deal with an emotional situation #(he’s not going to die) (and he really was going to tell buck himself he just waited too long)#tag games #i dont know if I’ll finish this or death fic first its kind of a toss up #i think i have about the same amount of work to do in each #shrug! it’ll all get out there eventually

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dontcallmeeds · 1 year

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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4

Eddie takes the piece of metal for the new piece and runs his torch along it. The flame flickers against the silver as he does, white hot.

But instead of bending it quite yet, he hammers down on it roughly before flicking the flame over it again. He bends it around the sizing device, still estimating Steve’s ring size to be just under his.

Once it’s shaped and melded together, he hammers it more, giving some of it a rougher edge.

The next part is tricker, the oxidation process.

Eddie is grateful his uncle stays out of his room and his business, he’s sure by now that the noises that aren’t just Iron Maiden or his own musical talents have caused confusion and intrigue.

He meant to tell his uncle about his jewelry, but honestly it made him nervous for people to see his work and know it was his. Like suddenly they’d change their minds and decide it was actually quite shit.

Especially the person he was giving most of his projects to.

Eddie takes out the clean plastic box from under his work station and puts a paper towel on the bottom, soaking in ammonia. He covers it with a plastic lid after the smell hits him and opens his tiny trailer bedroom window.

Realistically, he shouldn’t do this in the confined space, but he figures he’s inhaled enough bad shit; he’ll survive.

Eddie opens the box again to take a piece of tinfoil next and puts it in the middle of the box for the ring to sit on, then rolls the ring in the ammonia. He pours salt onto the ring, focusing on the spots he hammered more.

Placing it on the tinfoil, Eddie smiles to himself. This piece is going to be beautiful, but it’s also rougher than the last few pieces.

Steve would probably think his secret admirer, a woman no doubt, bought it from somewhere a little edgier. Eddie sighs at that thought, wishing he wasn’t such a coward. Wishing he could just tell him outright.

But it really wasn’t that simple.

As Eddie sketches out the final details of the ring, he hears the front door open, figuring Wayne might’ve come home on lunch. He had been doing that a lot lately, coming home from work to eat, to check up on Eddie.

But Eddie startles when he turns around to his own door swinging open, something his uncle would never do without knocking and waiting on an answer.

Mike Wheeler and Lucas Sinclair stand in his doorway, arguing something about their character sheets for the next campaign and apparently needing Eddie to be the tiebreaker.

Before he can hide the sketch or the box with the ring—

“What’s that?”

They ask it in unison with wide eyes and pinched noses, staring at the box containing his next secret gift to Steve.

“Nothing,” Eddie moves it aside with the sketchbook on top, trying to walk forward until they all go into the living room. He isn’t that lucky.

“It looks important,” Mike tries to look over his shoulder at the work station.

“Yeah, looks like a secret,” Lucas so helpfully chimes in, little shit.

“Can you guys drop it? What’s this about your—“

“We can stand here all day,” Lucas folds his arms with a smirk, nudging Mike’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m what Nancy likes to call ‘insufferable’,” Mike follows up, and Eddie has to stop himself from snorting at that.

“Fine! God, you guys are the worst and I’m starting to regret bringing you under my wing,” Eddie doesn’t, not once, but who is he if not dramatic, “you have to swear to secrecy of the highest level. It’s quite literally life or death.”

They exchange looks and then smile wide at Eddie, nodding in agreement with the terms. He takes a deep breath and starts.

“Eww, seriously? Steve? Like my sister’s ex, that Steve?!”

“For the millionth time, baby Wheeler, yes. Like your sister’s ex,” Eddie rubs his temples, having to literally repeat himself for the last twenty minutes.

The boys finally stop asking questions shortly after, at least about Steve.

“So how long does it sit like,” Lucas gestures vaguely to the now fully covered box, “that for?”

“About twenty four hours,” Eddie answers.

“So you make your own? All your rings and chains?” Mike asks, seemingly dropping his whole Steve grudge. For now.

“Yeah, have been since I was sixteen probably,” Eddie outstretches his hands and stares down at them himself.

“Cool,” is the last thing Mike adds before they seem to move on from the subject all together and ask about their character sheets once again finally.

The night becomes an ongoing argument, Eddie having to break them up multiple times. But he can’t help but feel a little relieved from being able to have people who know about his secret.

The teens leave late with promises to keep everything under wraps, they of course both want updates, even begging to come with to drop the next ring off. Eddie says he’ll think about it, but they’ll be louder than his clunky van so he’ll just tell him later he forgot.

The next afternoon, the ring is ready to pull out and he looks it over with pride. Taking fine grit sandpaper, he rubs over the piece and inspects it thoroughly to make sure it’s ready for final touches.

Taking a silver wire that he already prepped, Eddie takes jewelry pliers and wraps it around the thinnest piece of the ring. He fires over it and looks it over one last time.

It’s everything he wanted it to be, nothing else he’s given Steve has looked like this.

Smiling to himself, Eddie puts it in it’s box and writes the note to accompany it.

‘Stevie, something different.’

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spookystrangerthingsbigbang · 19 days

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welcome to the Spooky Stranger Things Big Bang!!! A Big Bang event for people 15 and up!! I thought it would be fun to run an event that teens can be in, too!

dates page by @tentativeghost ghost 🩷

I’ll put this here too just in case the image doesn’t load

writer sign ups: May 1st-May 31st

writing starts: you can start writing as soon as you sign up!

artists sign ups: May 1st-July 25th

first check-in: July 28th

Art Claims: August 5th-August 15th

Second Check-in: August 30th

Final Check in: September 27th

Posting: October 16th-31st

The minimum word count for all fics is 10k words

The minimum for all art pieces is 1 (obviously)

The minimum word counts for writers through: first check in: 5k second check in 10k final check in: completed and beta-read

The minimum progress for artists: second check-in: 50% final check-in 100%

You can write about anything, as long as it’s just a little bit spooky, this is kind of a Halloween big bang 🥰

Your fics cannot be beta-read by you, because sometimes people don’t notice things in their own writing no matter how many times they re-read the piece, but it can be beta read by someone who’s not a part of this event! (ex. Friend, family member)

If you have any questions throughout the bang, feel free to send in an ask and I’ll answer them as soon as I can! Or DM me in the discord group once you sign up!

all of these fics will be posted on ao3 (and here if you want!) and the chapter have to be posted at once so that I can keep track of things

This event is run by @finntheehumaneater 🩵✨

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dieaverage · 5 months

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ROSE-COLORED BOY — eddie munson x female reader as childhood friends to enemies to friends again to sickeningly-in-love lovers

eddie munson x female reader

series summary: six months after the death of your mother darlene byers, you return to hawkins, indiana to try and make sense of everything. what you don’t anticipate is how much running into him on your first night back, five years after your desertion, will break your heart (and his) all over again.

author’s note: hi! going to be so unapologetically real with you all and say i have no clue of where this is headed, but after my hyper-fixating ass decided to host an eddie munson revival party of one on the cusp of the year of our lord 2024, i knew i had to write something so other people could at least be subjected to the workings of my mind. i hope you like it, and if you don’t, well, that’s a you problem i fear! but seriously if you do have any ideas/directions you would like to see this heading, please please please do not hesitate to let me know! this is my first time posting any of my work on tumblr *gasp* so i mean it when i say criticism is warmly welcomed. <3

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳

chapter one — spaghetti and meatballs

word count: 1.6k+

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳

A thin mist descended upon the forested thoroughfare to the town you once felt you knew so well, though were no longer so sure. The weighty four-worded acknowledgement bounced around in your head over and over as you approached the deceptively disarming "Welcome to Hawkins, Indiana" sign, so heavily you were almost convinced it was rousing a sleeping migraine, and yet no matter how many times you repeated the seemingly familiarising phrase under bated breath, it felt no less alien to you.

After all, this was never truly your home. Countless summers spent at your cousins' house, even four begrudgingly defining years clocked up at Hawkins High School, had never allowed you to feel like you had earned the right to label it as such. It was your mother's home, as if she had beat you to staking any claim on it, and now that she was no longer around, any ties you thought you might have had to it felt well and truly severed.

Precarious ties aside, it was here you found yourself, in Hawkins. Mere months after the death of your mother. The offer had unfalteringly been there, "whe- if- it ever gets to be too much, Daphne, you know you can come stay with me and the boys", and yet your eventual acceptance of it made you feel nothing short of an imposter.

Any hopes for a discreet arrival were instantaneously dashed as your Cavalier pulled onto the unforgiving gravelly driveway, your tires connecting with the stones to create a disturbance you were sure could have woken any nearby animals out of hibernation, had they assumed an early one. Hawkins air had a perpetually wintry quality, after all. The front door swung open before you even had a chance to remove your keys from the ignition, and the sight of the emerging sixteen year old boy unwillingly brought a beaming smile to your face.

"Daphne!!!!" he called out, advancing towards you at an incredible and equally terrifying speed.

"Hi, Will!" a laugh couldn't help but escape your lips as he wrapped you into a tight hug, the force of which setting you off balance momentarily. He used to be so... delicate. "You've gotten so big!"

"He's got what, like, a foot on you now?" a voice exclaimed from the doorway, the discerning sarcasm of it all widening your already unshakeable grin.

"Lovely to see you too, Jonathan. And it's a couple inches, at best!"

Soon the three of you were embraced in a group hug, which although you would never admit it, had been long overdue. The slight stinging sensation in your eyes signalling the impending flood of tears prompted your swift ejection from the embrace. "So, where is my darling pseudo sister?" you questioned as you walked through the threshold of the Byers abode, attempting to inject some humour into what had already become a far too confronting display of emotions, and almost as if on cue Joyce emerged from the adjoining room.

"Oh, Daphne!" she cried out, consuming you in a hug that could only be described as motherly. You felt it considerably harder to fight back the tears this time. "Hi, Joyce." you exhaled into her shoulder, trying with all your might to resist crumbling in her arms right there. You had been alone for, what, six months? This exhibition of emotion, or rather, the suppression of it, left you feeling weak, and was perhaps the very reason you had avoided coming for so long.

Darlene would never have earned an award for her maternity, and you often thought that if there were such a scale to measure someone who would, your own mother would, against all odds, find a way to fall below it. She wasn't well, that much had been evident for the entirety of your time together, and increasingly so in the end, but in her wake you wondered how much longer you could accept it as an excuse. Above all else, you felt abandoned. Joyce, and the boys, they were wonderful. Truthfully speaking, Joyce had been more of a mother to you in your formative years than Darlene ever was, and Will and Jonathan, they would always be your little brothers as far as you were concerned. But still, in their house now, observing the three of them together, you helplessly felt like a guest, as if years of intimacy had been erased. Nothing had occurred to suggest this, of course. No, these thoughts were all of your own creation, from the mind you had so wished to desert so many times in the last six months.

“Daphne, honey, you must be starving. What can I whip up for us?”

"Spaghetti and meatballs, Mom, please?" Will exhorted, snapping you out of your self imposed hypnotic state.

"I think we should let Daphne choose, Will." Joyce sweetly urged him. "Daphne, what would you like?" You looked up at her from your place on the couch which you hadn't even recalled assuming, and then over to Will who was waiting in anticipation for your answer.

"Spaghetti and meatballs sounds great. Gotta love Italian!" you exclaimed, and Will and Jonathan high-fived quietly from across the room. Joyce shared a knowing look with you and giggled before turning back towards the kitchen. It brought a certain degree of reassurance to you that some things truly never change, one of which being the Byers boys' inability to grow up.

"Joyce," you scurry behind her, "thank you. I- it's been a... weird couple months, but being with y'all, it's already helping."

"Oh, Daphne," Joyce pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "I thought about you constantly. I wanted to make the trip down to Austin, to be there for you, but with the boys and then work-"

"I know. It's okay. I'm here now. You don't have to worry anymore."

"Easier said than done." Joyce gave an unassured look. "Please, just... don't hesitate to talk to me, okay? If it's too much. You're like a daughter to me, Daphne, and I know the boys think of you as a big sister. This is your home. For as long as you want it to be."

You promptly gave her a cuddle, hoping it could express your gratitude in a way you knew your words couldn't without risk of activating the waterworks, before announcing, "Hey, I think I might head out for a while after dinner. Check out that booming Hawkins nightlife. I can't even remember the last time I got a drink here."

"And legally, at that!" Joyce countered playfully, you giving her a slight push to quiet down, afraid that Will or Jonathan might wish to learn a thing or two of your teenage antics, ammunition you certainly were not ready to equip them with.

"Hey, I handled my alcohol well, okay!" you argued, though not compellingly.

"Law enforcement might disagree." she laughed, her head elsewhere, presumably recalling your countless run ins with the Hawkins police department.

"Okay yes, somewhat of a troubled teen..." you admitted, "but you know, I got over it. I went to college. I grew up." Joyce met your eyes with a smile, "I know you did. I'm so proud of you, Daph."

Eventually, dinner was ready, and the group had no sooner sat down at the dinner table before Will had engulfed the contents of his plate, now proudly demonstrating its emptiness to Joyce. "Finished! Can I please go to Mike's now?" he asked her with eyes so wide you feared they could momentarily eject from their sockets, making the question posed that much sweeter.

"Alright, alright." she giggled, "Just be careful, okay? Biking at a reasonable speed will not hinder your chances of escaping dungeons or slaying dragons, I promise."

Will met his mother's failed attempt at understanding his favourite game with an unforgiving roll of the eyes before the table burst into laughter with Will pulling Joyce into a hug, and then Jonathan.

"See you later, Daphne!" he exclaimed before wrapping his arms around you and hurriedly darting out the front door, leaving you once again with an aching smile plastered on your face. What a sweet boy, you thought to yourself.

"A couple hours and he already has Daphne wrapped around his finger!" Jonathan said jokingly, sending both you and Joyce into laughter once again. "What can I say, he's a good kid!"

"Once upon a time, you were too, Jonathan!" you said wiggling your finger at him with an air of mockery, giving a playful nudge to his shoulder before grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

Closing the door behind you, you catch sight of Will wheeling his bike down the rough driveway. "Hey, wait up!"

Even from a distance you could make out his cheesy grin, and you couldn't help but think about what a heartbreaker he would make one day.

"So, Will the Wise! Off to another campaign?" you proclaim as you reach him, and the use of his nickname only causes his smile to grow wider.

"You remembered?"

"How could I forget?! I was only gone a couple years. Will the Wise's legacy, now that will last centuries." you tease.

"I really missed you, Daphne. So did Mom, almost as much as Jonathan!"

"Jonathan? Wow, he said that? Can we get that in writing?"

"Seriously!" he slapped your arm lightly as the briefly shared portion of your journey came to a close, preparing to mount his bike for the ride to the Wheeler house, "I'm so glad you're home."

With what felt suspiciously like watering eyes approaching, you swallowed harshly before taking his hand in yours. "Me too."

#eddie munson #stranger things #jim hopper cameo #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #i’m new to this and don’t really know what i’m doing #i know there’s no eddie mentions in chapter one but hang in there #i swear it’ll pick up #joyce byers is mother #literally #Spotify #rose-colored boy

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ellewritesandrants · 1 year

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Hopper: Are you sure about this, son?

Billy: I’m as sure as I can be, dad. Trust me.

Hopper: But Munson? What about Steve? You know, I like Steve. We like Steve. Steve doesn’t have a criminal record. Anyway, I thought you were dating Steve.

Billy: Oh, I am.

Hopper: Then, what’s this thing with Munson?

Billy: Oh, we’re both dating him.

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cyraclove · 10 months

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I have mad writer’s block with all of my wips right now so please have this drabble about Eddie going prom dress shopping with Chrissy that I couldn’t get out of my head

Eddie pops another handful of M&Ms in his mouth as he glances at his watch.

He locks eyes with the same saleswoman that’s been hovering around the dressing room for the last hour, shooting her a crunchy, chocolatey grin. Eddie chuckles to himself when she purses her lips in obvious disgust and clacks away.

He’s lost count of how many dresses Chrissy’s tried on. They might live here now, in this Dillard’s at the mall. At least there’s an Orange Julius and a Mrs. Fields nearby. Bright side.

Eddie’s still not entirely sure how he ended up at the mall watching Chrissy try on dresses. For prom. The prom that she’s going to with Jason Carver, her walking wiener of a boyfriend.

It’s probably got something to do with the fact that he’s stupidly, pathetically in love with her.

Another Blondie song comes on overhead and the hiss of the same perfume sample being sprayed for the hundredth time makes Eddie’s eye twitch.

God, he’s getting a cluster headache. He needs a cigarette, like, yesterday.

“How’s it going in there, Chris?”

There’s shuffling and the soft clink of metal hangers from behind the flimsy curtain in front of him.

“This one’s too…poofy,” Chrissy says, a frown in her voice.

“The purple one? I thought you liked that one.”

“No, this is the dark green one.”

“The dark gr—I haven’t even seen that one yet. C’mon out, lemme look at it.”

“No, it’s too poofy,” she insists. “I look like…like broccoli.”

Eddie tosses his head back with a laugh despite trying his damndest not to. He can’t see her, but he knows she’s got that little crinkle above her nose that she gets when she’s grumpy. He can hear it.

“You’ll be the most beautiful vegetable at the dance,” Eddie teases. The little grumble he gets in response tugs at his heart.

Chrissy pokes her head out from the curtain to look at him, gathering it around her chest. Eddie can see just a sliver of her bare shoulder. His stomach actually flutters.

“Eddie,” Chrissy sighs, “this is serious. If I don’t find a dress this weekend, it’ll be too late.”

Chrissy disappears into her dressing room again. Eddie hears a zipper and wishes that he was made of taffeta.

“I’m gonna try on the blue one,” Chrissy tells him. “You liked that one, right?”

“Chrissy, I like them all,” he says honestly. I like them because they’re on you, he doesn’t add.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. You’re gonna look great in whatever you pick.”

There’s a pause in the rustling of fabric. Chrissy’s face appears again, baby blues rolling above a little smile. Her cheeks are pricked with the slightest hint of pink.

“You have to say that because you’re my best friend,” she says.

Eddie looks at her a minute, his eyes on hers. The tinny Muzak from out in the mall fades away and all he can hear is his blood rushing in his ears, the thump of his heart against his ribcage.

He could just tell her. Right now, with that stuffy saleswoman glaring at them from behind the cosmetics counter.

He could tell her and then he’d get to take her to the dumb prom, and it’d be the best night of his goddamned life.

But he doesn’t.

“Go on and try the blue one on before they close the mall and we get locked in here,” he jokes. He shoots her a smile that she returns before vanishing again.

His head aches.

“I’m sorry I’m taking so long,” Chrissy apologizes. “I really appreciate you coming with me.”

“Hey, of course. Anything for you, Cunningham. You know that.”

“It’s just…I know this sounds so stupid, but I really want my ‘Wow’ moment. You know?”

Eddie’s brow furrows. “Uh, you may need to give me a definition for that one.”

“Have you seen Footloose?”

“Did you forget who you’re talking to?”

Chrissy lets out a breath of a giggle. “Well, do you know the basic plot of the movie?”

“Think so,” Eddie muses. “Jesus good, dancing bad.”

“Essentially,” Chrissy laughs. “Anyway, there’s this part at the end after they finally convince the reverend to let them have senior prom. Kevin Bacon’s character—his name’s Ren—“

“Ren, okay.”

“Yeah, and he comes to pick Ariel up—that’s Lori Singer’s character. You know Lori Singer?”

“The blonde from, uh…Fate?”

“Fame. So, he comes to pick her up for the dance and he’s walking up to her front porch and he stops when he sees her standing there,” Chrissy continues, her voice airy, dreamy.

“And then he just…looks at her. Like he can’t believe that she’s real. That’s what I want.”

There’s a twinge in Eddie’s chest.

“Chris, Carver’s an idiot if he doesn’t—“

The end of Eddie’s sentence is snuffed out when Chrissy pulls back the curtain and steps out of the dressing room. His tongue is dry and his head feels fuzzy. The air leaves his lungs entirely as he takes her in, breathtaking in blue.

The neckline kisses her collarbone, sleeves fluttering at the edges at her shoulders. The shimmery fabric slopes along the contours of her body, coasting down the curve of her waist before splaying into the skirt.

Chrissy’s teeth dig into her lower lip as the corner of her lips quirk up. She shifts from one foot to the other, the wispy silk swaying gently just above her ankles.

“Well? What about this one?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, his heart in his throat. “I think that’s the one.”

#please help me my brain won’t work on the things I want it to #but it’ll do this #cyraclove writes #writers on tumblr #hellcheer #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy cunningham #hellcheer fanfic

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