#「 ❛ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵃᵏ ❜ 」 ⛧ 𝕰 𝖉 𝖉 𝖎 𝖊 𝕸 𝖚 𝖓 𝖘 𝖔 𝖓 |

[eddie]

PLOTTED STARTER for : @boriys

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ BY THE TIME THAT THE MUSIC from the neighboring party had died down, it was almost three in the morning, the rumbling of a car engine allowing for the shroud of silence to blanket the trailer park after it had rolled off into the distance. Late nights and loud music had become a common occurrence all over town, now that the warm weather had rolled in and school was out for the summer; not that Eddie partook in much of it. He wasn’t much for parties, save for the ones revolving around concert scenes. Wasn’t much of that in bumfuck Hawkins though.

            Sleepless nights weren’t unusual for the metalhead, even when the outside world was quiet and the window to his bedroom was comfortably cracked, allowing for a cool breeze to blow gently through the hot summer air that had heated it during the day. Sometimes, no matter how comfortable he was in his bed, his thoughts would keep him awake. The most frustrating part of it all was that half the time, his thoughts were nothing in particular. Just an aimless sequence of nonsense and back-burner bullshit.

            Pushing himself out of his bed with an inward groan to protest his own decisions, Eddie slipped into a pair of sweatpants before grabbing a pack of smokes and a lighter from amidst the disorganized mess atop his nightstand. The front door of his modest home creaked as he exited through it to plop down on the dilapidated couch on the paint-chipped porch, a cigarette soon meeting his lips before the end of it was kissed by the flame of his lighter. He’d barely taken a few puffs from it when the sound of an escalating argument shattered the silence, his head raising and his attention pivoting over towards the source of the commotion, just in time to see the neighbor boy retreating from the conflict. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time that he’d noticed the red flags between him and his father since they’d taken up residency in the vacant trailer down the street.

            The sting of poor parenting was a feeling that he knew all too well, and while he knew better than to try to get in the middle of a mess that was quite obviously none of his business, he also couldn’t stomach the idea of utter silence. Eddie rose to his feet, stepping forward to lean his shoulder against the metal support structure of the awning. ❝ Hey. You, uh … You good, man? ❞ He was careful with his tone, so as not to come across like he was casting his pity down on him, but there was an apparent concern expressed in the vague arch of his brows. So as not to make him feel uncomfortable, he held out the pack of smokes in his hand and gently shook it to offer one. ❝ You just moved in down the road with your old man, right? ❞

[eddie]

EDDIE MUNSON in his diy'd Nevermore uniform

[eddie]

@pazuzud​ said :  ❝ do you wanna build a snowman?  ❞​

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ WHILE THE WINTER WEATHER OF COURSE had it's own unique appeal, with its sparkling blankets of snow and twinkling lights, Eddie had more often than not been the type to appreciate the beauty from within the comforts of the indoors . . . where it was warm and he could still feel all of his toes. Still, despite his reservations about the cold, he'd somehow found himself rolling together the bottom half of an awkwardly-shaped snowman. Whether he was braving the elements because the concept sounded like a good time in a nostalgic sort of way or because it was SAM that had asked him ... Well, he didn't want to talk about it.             ❝ Hey, Sammy? ❞ The metalhead questioned, never looking up from the hefty-sized snowball that was under the heel of his combat boot as he'd tried rather haphazardly to salvage the botched contour of its shape. It wasn't to much avail. Honestly, it might have been getting worse. ❝ So there's that party going on tonight at, uh ... whats-his-nuts’ place. ❞ He glanced over at her, crinkling the bridge of his nose as he'd tried and failed to remember. Not that it mattered much.

            ❝ I know that parties are kinda lame, buuut, ❞ Eddie continued, refocusing his gaze back onto his contribution of the snowman, now squatting down in front of it and using the heat from his hands to round off the misshapen edges. ❝—hear me out: ❞ A pause. ❝ We sneak in. We help ourselves to some of those fancy appetizers and stuff our pockets full of free beer ... ❞ Another pause. ❝ And then we come back here and we watch a movie inside where it's warm. ❞ He brushed off some loose snow before rising to his feet. ❝ Because, uh . . . I can't feel my hands, so. ❞ He tilted his head towards her and offered her a view of his reddened palms, a tight-lipped and mildly sarcastic simper upon his face.             Was it his own fault for not wearing gloves? Definitely. But was he going to make it Sam's problem? Would’ve been a crime not to.             Snow crunched beneath his boots as he began to close the distance between them, the smile on his face quickly growing impish in nature as his dark gaze eyed the bottom of her jacket.

[eddie]

PLOTTED STARTER for : @kinghaargrove

⛧˖ ─── AS AN UNWRITTEN RULE, EDDIE always did what he could to avoid passing concrete judgements upon strangers that he knew little about. Having grown up in a shithole town like Hawkins, which had never done him the service of offering the same courtesy, he knew all too well how misconceptions could completely dismantle a person's reputation and self-worth. As a species, humans seemed easily inclined to see the bad in others and RELUCTANT to see the good, with only a small, select few ever caring enough to ask questions before they'd deemed someone a hopeless delinquent. A bad apple. A devil-worshipper.

            A FREAK.

            Even for someone like him though, someone who suffered the STRIDENT hand of scrutiny and misplaced judgement on a daily basis, Eddie found it difficult to place much faith in the plausibility of Billy Hargrove being an okay guy. Normally, paying heed to rumors and gossip went against his personal doctrines, but with the considerable assemblage of transgressions that were stacked against him from such reputable sources, it was hard not to at least take them into consideration—be it with a grain of salt or not. Indeed, his lack of brownie points had left him standing on ground that was LESS than neutral, but it wasn't as though he needed to like the guy or agree with his life choices to sell him drugs.

            With the reputation that Billy had, it was easy for Eddie to assume that the BRUISES that would occasionally mark his complexion were the result of some tussle that he'd gotten into at whatever party he'd been at over the weekend. Or maybe he just liked it rough with all of the women that he supposedly slept around with. He wasn't exactly discreet with his sexual escapades, after all.

            The dots were quickly connected and any loose theories that Eddie once had abruptly lost their credibility, however, when he'd found himself TRAPPED inside of his bedroom, the sound of a raised voice and incoherent beratement reverberating from the next room. It was hard to hear what was being said, but there was one word that stood out clearly amongst all of the shouting ...

            F*GGOT.

            It was an uncomfortable word to hear, considering his own sexual preferences were far from what society considered appropriate or acceptable. The reaction it drew was almost VISCERAL, his body flinching at the sound. His own father hadn't exactly been a saint and he was no stranger to a raised hand himself, but the violence that echoed from the other room took him aback.

            In silent surrender, Eddie had taken a seat on the end of the bed, not a word falling from his mouth after Billy had returned … not unscathed. His dark eyes took note of the marks, but he didn’t allow his gaze to linger for long, hushing his compassion in an effort to keep the boat from rocking any further. Whether the derogatory slurs of Billy Hargrove’s father had any CREDIBILITY, he didn’t know, but he was clever enough to know that leaving the room when the metaphorical gun was still smoking would result in grim consequences for both of them. And so, without speaking a word, Eddie had settled into the space, doing his best to deal with the tension through tight lips and an averted gaze.

            Eddie imagined that the situation was just as uncomfortable for Billy, if not more so, but it was hard to know which WIRE to pull when dealing with such a tangled and unstable mess. The wrong selection could result in an explosion.

            The silence was eventually broken when Eddie had fished a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, only to suddenly be limited by his lack of a lighter. ❝ Hey, Hargrove? You, uh, got a lighter? ❞ He asked, glancing over towards him while he wiggled the unlit cigarette between two of his fingers. A smoke might calm his NERVES, he thought, or at the very least it would give him something to keep his hands occupied so that he wasn’t incessantly fidgeting with his rings or picking at the rips in his jeans. Of course, there was also the hope that it might serve to break the ice.

[eddie]

ANSWERED ASK for : @p0ssessed ❛ [ NAP ] while receiver is resting, sender joins them in bed & cuddles up close. ❜

⛧˖ ─── AFTER FINALLY BUILDING UP THE NERVE to cross the line that divided friends and lovers, it had become nearly impossible to peel Eddie away from Sam’s side, the metalhead always looking for any excuse that he could to DOTE on her. If he wasn’t pestering her at school in between periods, then he was toting her around town in his van or inviting her over to his house. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t enjoyed every single moment of time they’d spent together before all of this, but having the freedom to kiss her or pull her into his lap whenever he wanted was certainly liberating after he’d spent so long trying to keep his hands to himself. He was quickly realizing that he might have an unscratchable itch, however, as he simply couldn’t seem get enough of her time, her kisses, her touches, her laughter. He was always left needing MORE.

            What had started as a random occurrence had quickly and quietly turned into a habitual routine; midday naps frequently filling the gaps in their LAZY daily routines. For reasons unbeknownst to the metalhead, it often seemed as though his girlfriend could hardly keep her eyes open whenever they’d get cozy on the couch. She’d never given him a real explanation, but she’d done a relatively good job of convincing him that it was nothing to worry about—just a poor sleeping schedule, the stress of school, a bout of insomnia. It might have worried him more if the frequent naps hadn’t seemed to be doing the trick, especially as Sam had begun to spend more time around his trailer. It had slowly just evolved into another reason to be close to her, and he wasn’t about to complain about it.

            It was relatively early in the evening when Eddie had retired to the bedroom, already laying shirtless in his bed when Sam had come in to join him. He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been waiting, but he’d begun to nod off at some point, he’d realized, as the sudden presence of her body against his own had pulled him from the vague beginnings of a DREAM. ❝ There you are, ❞ he began, a big grin blooming on his sleepy features as he immediately pulled her closer by her waist, his hand then trailing up beneath the hem of the shirt that she was wearing to settle lazily on her ribcage. Without looking, he could tell that it was one of his shirts.

            ❝ I didn’t start without you. Promise, ❞ the metalhead half-lied, his lips still baring the remnants of a grin as he pressed a kiss to hers. It was followed by a few more before he’d lifted his hand from beneath the blankets to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering there as he smoothed his thumb over her cheek. GOD, he could look at that face for hours. Even with only the dim lighting of a lava lamp to highlight her features, he was completely smitten. ❝ Have I ever told you that I think you’re beautiful, Samantha Hoffman? ❞ The question came with a playful grin, as he’d told her no more than fifteen minutes ago out in the living room. He knew that he was starting to sound like a broken record.            ❝ Because you are. Dare I say, you could be… ❞ Eddie's body gently rolled with hers, his weight pushing her onto her back so that he could hover next to her, propped up on his elbow. ❝—the most beautiful girl in the world. And you know what? ❞ He paused, offering the slow raise of an index finger and the slight cant of his head as he smiled down at her. ❝ I’d tell you that... even if you weren’t laying in my bed without any pants on right now. ❞

[eddie]

PLOTTED STARTER for : @flesheaten

⛧˖ ─── THE KNOCKING ON THE FRONT DOOR HAD nearly gone unnoticed at first, the soft noise suppressed beneath the emphatic earthquake of heavy metal that was blaring out from the stereo in the living room; the combined result of a broken set of headphones and blatant teenage impertinence. A neighbor had already complained once about the racket, to which Eddie had offered an apology and politely obliged their request to lower the volume, but it wasn’t long before it had subtly begun to creep back up again with the approach of his favorite tracks. When the sound of knuckles rapping against his front door finally broke through the beat enough to properly register and grab his attention for the second time, the metalhead assumed that it was a follow-up to the previous grievance, ring-clad fingers hastily turning back the dial on the sound system in a panic as though it wasn’t already too late. When he’d opened the door, however, it wasn’t an angry neighbor that he was faced with, but rather…

            ❝ … Lee? ❞

            His voice wrapped around his name in a tone that was much softer than he’d intended, lingering in the cage of his chest like a second heartbeat and cutting off the air from his lungs. It had been years since he’d last seen his face, and while he’d tried his hardest to convince himself that he’d forgotten about him and that he no longer cared, the way that his heart swelled with a long-buried ache in the mere midst of his presence stood as an irrefutable contradiction.

            The apologetic smile that Eddie had pulled on in preparation for a grumpy neighbor quickly vanished, melting into the vague expression of a dazed frown. A part of him wanted to pull the lanky boy into a hug, to latch onto him and tell him how much he missed him... but with the sudden rush of so many years of precious memories also came the biting recollection of their bitter goodbye— if one could even call it that. It was more like a silent disappearance, but Eddie had always found it hard to see it as anything other than cold ABANDONMENT. The thought alone of that first night without him still made his soul wrench in a way that he couldn’t put into words.

            The metalhead’s fingers curled into his palm, knuckles tightening as he chewed at the inside of his cheek in an attempt to ground himself.  ❝ You look different. Your hair is… what is that, orange? ❞ Those were the only words that the metalhead could manage at first, his dark gaze scanning his old friend up and down. It was rare that Eddie Munson ever had nothing to say, but as he stood in that doorway, drowning in the overwhelming waves of his own emotions, finding a single word seemed almost as futile as finding a breath of air.

[eddie]

starter for || @wheeling​

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ AN AVID CONCERT-GOER AND A metalhead to his core, it was rare that Eddie ever missed a chance to attend a show in the area, but even rarer was it that he was allowed the opportunity to have a rookie in his company; the chance to convert them by granting them a first-time introduction into the metal scene. It was for that reason that he’d jumped at the chance to take Mike to see Iron Maiden after the boy had expressed some level of interest in his musical tastes—a generally uncommon occurrence, considering the fact that most of the town would sooner condemn it as ‘noise’ and label it as a gateway for satanic corruption than so much as give it a chance. Needless to say, he’d seized the opportunity, and it wasn’t long before they had two tickets in their possession and a scheme in their back pockets.

           Despite never having been brought up in a formal conversation, it was no secret to Eddie that Mike Wheeler had a subtle way of looking up to him—or not so subtle, as many might argue. When given the power of influence over anyone, it was always best handled with care . . .  even more so, however, when the role model was a drug-dealing freak who couldn’t pass high school to save his life, with a criminal for a father and a lack of ‘real ambition’—according to most of his teachers. He would be damned before he would ever let Mike follow in those footsteps, but if there was one thing he had to offer, it was a sick taste in music, and he was going to make damn sure that it rubbed off on him.

           With a sputtering muffler and an engine that roared almost as loud as the music that blared from within the cabin, Eddie’s van came to a halt outside of the Wheeler residence, the tires screeching as they locked and slid against the pavement. He rolled the sleeve of his jacket back, tilting the face of the watch on his wrist to check the time, as the clock on his dashboard had busted years ago. ❝ Right on schedule. ❞ Or so they would have been, if Mike had been ready and waiting for him . . . which he was not. He’d give him a couple of minutes, and then...

           ❝ Come on, Wheeler! Let’s GOOO! Bus is leaving! ❞ Eddie called out the window towards the front door, a quick blast on the horn following. Despite their mission being ‘covert’, it wasn’t as though they had to be overly-subtle, considering that Mike was supposed to be the only one home.

[eddie]

PLOTTED STARTER for : @flaeyed​

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ WHILE THE INADEQUATE GRADES ON his report cards would demonstrate otherwise, Eddie was a rather competent reader, and the sort of person who genuinely enjoyed getting lost in the world of fiction. As soon as he was old enough to interpret the stories that were being told between the covers of the books that he’d always admired on the shelves, he'd found himself spiraling down a rabbit hole of mythical creatures, heroes and villains. Before he knew it, he was getting lost in worlds of his own creation, scribbling down onto paper the rough depictions of the adventures that went on within the reaches of his imagination with his small selection of broken crayons. It had been a euphoric and very necessary escape from the truth of his bleak reality, and it was a method that he still used to this day, albeit on a greater scale.

           If only his passions for stories were transferable to his schoolwork. It was something that he not only wished for himself, but something he'd heard his uncle Wayne wish for him on numerous occasions. Unfortunately, as soon as the borders between pleasure and school became overlapped, his mind seemed to let him down by disconnecting from the task at hand. Perhaps the book that they were studying was indeed interesting, but he wasn't sure that he'd ever find out or not, seeing as though he couldn’t get through more than a couple paragraphs before his attention would completely derail onto … anything and everything else.

           That had been the case, at least, until the task of a partnered project was thrust upon him. Letting himself down was one thing, but to drop the ball on the sucker that got stuck with him? Even if it was Billy Hargrove, an acquaintance that he didn't exactly have the most stellar first opinion on, he couldn’t really justify dragging him down into the pits of failure with him. Despite his good intentions and the noble goals that he’d set for himself, however, the notebook that he’d opened up that evening in his trailer was filled with more doodles than important bullet points, and the gravity of his deteriorating resolve was beginning to set in.

            Doe eyes lifted from the unrelated D&D doodle that he’d filled the corner of his page with, gaze settling on the pair of steely blues that were looking back at him. How many times had he caught him slacking off now? Three? Four? It was starting to get embarrassing, and the reason he’d already been held back a year was likely becoming painfully apparent.

           ❝ Alright, ❞ Eddie began, breaking the silence before the other could. He closed the book, his pencil tapping idly against the cover while he rolled it between his knuckles. ❝ Hear me out: ❞ His eyebrows would raise, head tilting forward in the blond’s direction as his free fist found his chin. ❝ We … take a break and order a pizza or somethin’. Scout’s honor—❞ He drew an ‘X’ over his chest with the eraser of his pencil. ❝—I’ll cut the bullshit. I just, uh, can’t focus on an empty stomach, y’know? ❞ An easy cover to explain his inability to focus, although a blatant lie.

[eddie]

ANSWERED ASK for : @godclaws PENNY said : ❝ Your heart is beating so fast right now. ❞

⛧˖ ─── IT SEEMED LIKE ONLY YESTERDAY that Penny Reynolds was giving him the cold shoulder in the school hallways, the sting of her aloofness causing Eddie mild twinges of grief on more than one occasion as she’d always delivered her frigid blows with so much ambiguity… and no explanation. Quite literally, the bombshell blonde had defined the term whiplash for him during their senior year together, as she’d begun to PERSONIFY it. The metalhead had never really known where he stood with her; whether she was entirely indifferent towards his existence, she hated him, or maybe she… liked him? The latter seemed almost so absurd a notion to even bother weighing its possibility, and yet…here he was with her, laying in the back of his van amidst a piled collection of blankets and pillows to watch a supposed meteor shower. Just the two of them.

            The plan had been to drive out into the rural countryside outside of Hawkins to watch it together, but Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to believe that there wasn’t something more in the meaning of their getaway. He was INEXPERIENCED, maybe, but not stupid. At first, he’d convinced himself that it was all just wishful thinking and that he was looking too far into things, but the tension between the two of them had grown so thick that it could have been cut with a knife now. The way that Penny had relaxed around him and had started to spend time with him (for reasons that weren’t drug-related) hadn’t gone unnoticed, nor had the way that he’d catch her looking at him from time to time. In fact, it was all that the metalhead could think about lately. SHE was all that he could think about.

            ‘ Your heart is beating so fast right now. ’

            Eddie had already been acutely aware of the rapidness of his heartrate even before Penny had brought it up, and so it went without saying that the verbal nod to his nerves and the shining of a spotlight on them didn’t help in the slightest. The softest shade of pink had already begun tinting his facial features, but he could swear that he felt his skin begin to BURN now that he’d realized just how exposed and vulnerable he was. As they’d been lying in wait for the meteor shower though, watching the sky through the open back doors of the van, their bodies had somehow drifted closer and it became IMPOSSIBLE for Eddie to focus on anything other than the heat between them, especially now that he’d rolled onto his side to face her. Staying calm wasn’t exactly in the cards for him.

            ❝ Yeah, uh… You seem to have that effect on me. You’ve been doing this since, ohhh?—❞ He trailed off, his gaze circling the room before it fell back onto Penny. ❝—seventh grade? Something like that. ❞ The smile on his face cracked further, widening until the dimples bloomed in his cheeks. While he wished that the MOONLIGHT that was filtering in through the windows wouldn’t be enough to expose the color that was deepening in his face, he wasn’t foolish enough to put too many eggs into that basket. Better just to own it.

            There was a timidness to the way that Eddie trailed his knuckles softly down her arm then, his touches stopping at her hand to GHOST over the top of it. If his heart hadn’t been threatening to pound out of his chest before, it definitely fucking was now. Ring-clad fingers took a much daintier set than his own into their hold, lifting them to his lips to press upon them a soft kiss. His gaze never left hers as he did so, although his nerves had made him consider it multiple times.

[eddie]

PLOTTED STARTER for : @daemondaes

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ IT WAS HARD FOR EDDIE TO REMEMBER a time when he felt as though the universe wasn't actively conspiring against him, but ever since that night in his trailer when he'd witnessed the demise of the Hawkins' High cheer captain in his living room, it seemed as though the notion of catching a break had become so rare and elusive that it bordered on being impossible. Like rows of dominos, everything in his life was collapsing one at a time, creating a misfortune-paved pathway to his impeding doom.

            On this night, the falling domino had introduced Jason Carver and his cronies to the location of his hideout. That should have been where the turmoil of his evening peaked, but of course, in classic Munson style, things only spiraled after he’d fled the boathouse. Patrick Mckinney was plucked from the lake by the same invisible entity that had hoisted Chrissy Cunningham onto his ceiling, and just like her, the bones in his body began to snap beneath the ghostly force of whatever was haunting him until his limp corpse was mangled and twisted like the gnarled branches of a corkscrew willow tree.

            It wasn’t as though Eddie was counting his lucky stars for it or anything, but the grizzly event had allowed him to pull off a successful escape from whatever retribution Jason Carver had been planning to exact upon him. Panicked strokes and flailing arms propelled him through the shadowy lake and up onto the shore, the cold water threatening to swallow him whole as hysteria refused to grant him any sense of composure. With almost no breath in his lungs and no strength in his body, it was pure adrenaline that had carried him into the woods, and it was unadulterated fear that guided him on an aimless path through the trees.

            It wasn't until Eddie had burst out from the treeline that he'd finally stopped, although it hadn’t been by choice. As he’d crested the hill, a car rounded the corner and nearly clipped him, a well-executed leap saving him from his otherwise would-be fate as ROADKILL. The metalhead tumbled forwards after his boots hit the pavement, sheer momentum rolling him across the asphalt and early into the ditch on the other side of the road before he’d stopped altogether, his limbs sprawled out in every direction. With the wind knocked entirely from his lungs, the silence that fell afterwards was entirely unintentional. Against his will, even, as he wanted nothing more than to portray his discomfort aloud.

            A groan escaped through a clenched jaw as soon as the composure of his breathing would allow it to, the metalhead’s body shaking with protest as he tried, and failed, to sit himself up. ❝ Shit. ❞ The word was hissed from his lips in utter exasperation, his dark eyes wincing shut for a moment despite everything in his mind telling him that he needed to get up and RUN. ❝ Son of a BITCH! ❞ His world was spinning, but he couldn’t feel any pain … yet. Truthfully, he wasn’t even sure if he’d been hit or not, and he was genuinely terrified to look down and see a pair of busted legs or, even worse, his insides ... on the outside. Adrenaline could sugar-coat like nothing else could.

[eddie]

PLOTTED STARTER for : @phantasmagcrical

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ IT WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING OF SECOND PERIOD and Eddie Munson had already landed himself in the doghouse; the end result of multiple disregarded warnings that had ultimately culminated into a trip to a familiar post in the hallway and, eventually, a seat in the school’s library. What was it that he’d caused now? A ruckus? A disruption? A commotion? He couldn’t even remember what the choice of words had been this time, which was most likely the product of years of blurred-together transgressions. Ah, well, that was just how the piece of shit cookie crumbled sometimes.

            The metalhead had half a mind to ditch the period all together, but with the very real threat of failure looming over his head like a burgeoning shadow, he’d managed to talk himself into taking another crack at the essay that had been stumping him for the past week. Ms. Calding had been nice enough to extend the deadline for him, after all. It had been in the spirit of sparing him from completely flunking her class, but he was beginning to wonder if there was a deadline in existence that could save him from his soon-to-be doomed fate at this point. Give him weeks or give him months, he couldn’t see how dragging out his suffering would make achieving the impossible any less IMPOSSIBLE.

            Eddie’s last-ditch effort came in the form of crumpled papers and doodles, strewn across the table amongst thin stacks of former attempts that had been aggressively scribbled out; a cover-up for the wreckage of botched sentences that lay beneath them. His last failed endeavor had been folded into the shape of a paper plane, and like it was guided by MISADVENTURE INCARNATE, it flew on a beeline path that led straight to the back of ADAM PARK’S head like it was a damn target. Of course, it had to be a jock. Albeit, he didn’t have any personal beef with this one. He counted himself lucky that it wasn’t someone worse, like Jason Carver or one of his mindless cronies.

            For a moment, Eddie was still and silent, his lips folding inward as he tried to extinguish the fruition of a giant grin. ❝ Shit, ❞ he muttered, unable to stifle the hint of a chuckle that rolled out with the single word. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to make it through an entire sentence. Pushing himself to his feet, he crossed the library to perch himself against the table that the baseball star sat at. ❝ Sorry about that. My bad. ❞ His apology was genuine enough, although the rising grin that was still causing the corners of his mouth to twitch may have said otherwise. ❝ You jocks and your big heads, y'know? Hard to miss em’, ❞ he quipped. It was genuine ENOUGH.

            His hand was extended, palm open as he requested the return of his paper airplane. It had been unfolded now, and he could only hope that Park hadn’t made any attempts to read it. ❝ Think I could … have that back? ❞

[eddie]

PLOTTED STARTER for : @kegk1ng​

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ EVERYTHING HAD HAPPENED SO QUICKLY after that harrowing night in the living room of his trailer house, where Eddie had borne witness to the gruesome death of the Hawkins High cheer captain. The vision of her small frame pressed against his ceiling still haunted the corridors of his mind and ghosted through his dreams at night, the nauseating sounds of snapping bones remaining cemented in the forefront of his memory as though it had been playing on a continuous loop the entire time. It was the guilt that he felt over her death, however, that was threatening to drag him under and swallow him whole. If it wasn’t the fact that he’d fled her mangled corpse, then it was the fact that he hadn’t come back into the room sooner, or the fact that he’d let go of her in the first place. The remorse of each of his decisions sat heavier on his shoulders than he’d ever truly professed, the burden gnawing on his conscience and adding to the amalgamation of reasons that had inevitably prompted, what he could only assume, would be his final stand: a self-sacrificing battle amidst a swarm of otherworldly bats.

           Despite the decision being one that he’d made in a split-second and while under an immense amount of pressure, Eddie was confident that it was the best choice he’d made in a long time. Maybe ever. The odds of his survival were an obvious slim to none, and sure, he would be throwing himself over a blade for a town that despised him and wanted him dead to begin with (and all to the fault of their own ignorance), but it wasn’t for them that he’d offered up his life. In fact, there wasn’t even the smallest shadow of their presence in his mind as he found himself swallowed up in a cloud of flapping wings and gnashing fangs. It was the friends that he’d made, the friends that had become his family, that occupied all of his thoughts and filled his heart with genuine bravery for the first time in his life. It was for them that he would lay his life on the line and cast himself willingly into perpetual darkness.

           With every fibre of his being, Eddie had been prepared to close the curtains on his short life of nineteen years, but the sudden appearance of an opening in the swarm of frenzied creatures allowed for a moment of reconsideration. Through the crack, there came a voice. Amidst the beating of wings and the ear-splitting screeching of a frantic horde, he couldn’t decipher exactly what was being said, but he’d followed in the direction anyways, breaking out through the veil of leathery appendages and sprinting away towards the treeline while the fangs that followed him tore more flesh from his bones.

            The adrenaline that was now pumping through his system pushed the pain away enough to allow him the opportunity to glance over his shoulder once or twice, ensuring that the creatures were still in pursuit. The further he could get them from the gateway, Dustin, and the rest of the gang, the better.

            It wasn’t until he’d stumbled through thick patches of bramble and bushes that he finally ceased his escape, falling to his knees and inevitably surrendering to the effects of blood loss and exhaustion as the dark world around him began to blur. When he felt himself being hoisted back up onto his feet, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been down for, but the clamor and commotion of the swarm made it clear that it hadn’t been for too long. A groan escaped his lips through a winced facial expression before he’d looked next to him to see the face of his rescuer, and the sight left him momentarily with a loss for words. ❝ Hargrove? ❞ He finally blurted. His dark eyes narrowed in disbelief, what remained of his vision straining to pull him into focus. He looked tired and disheveled compared to the old picture that his memory painted for him, but he was unmistakable in his perception. But ... wasn’t he DEAD?

            ❝ Shit ... You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. ❞

[eddie]

@pcrfectstorms​ said   . . .   ❝ I’ve already fallen on my ass four times today. ❞ from  —   ‘ winter themed sentence starters ’ 

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ IN GENERAL, THE HAWKINS FUN FAIR (be it during the winter festival or not) had never really fallen under the list of things that Eddie Munson would have associated with ‘a good time,’ but after a year that could have only been described as totally bizarre, divergency from his normal routine and habits was becoming a pretty standard practice. Not long ago, the mere concept of hanging out at the fair with the likes of Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, or any other member of their mismatched gang would have seemed almost laughable to the metalhead and anyone who knew him. Sprinkle on top the added details of an alternate dimension, a government conspiracy and a girl with superpowers, and one would have themselves the perfect ingredients for the ultimate fever dream.

           Even now after he’d had months to process the harrowing events, Eddie still grappled with his new reality and the tremendous shift in the weight of its gravity. Not that anyone could have faulted him for it, as the term had practically needed to be entirely redefined after such a copious amount of mind-blowing information had been dumped on him so suddenly. Steve had been in the same boat as him: being thrust into the turmoil and chaos of a situation that could only be described as biting off more than they could chew. And involuntarily, no less. Through it all, however, their shared experiences in trauma was likely what had drawn them together. Things were easier to process when someone else was there to offer validation, see.

           Talk about being thrown into the deep end.

           After being separated from the group that he’d attended the festival with, each of them dispersing for one reason or another, Eddie had eventually stumbled across Steve— apparently, just after he’d recovered from his fourth slip on the ice. ❝ Oh. ❞ A pause for an exaggerated frown. ❝ That what that is, Harrington? ❞ The metalhead asked, leaning back slightly to feign a glimpse at the melted snow on Steve’s backside. There was hardly much of anything, but embellishing the idea was worth it if only to ruffle his feathers a little.

           A beat, and Eddie was cracking a smile, the faintest snort of a laugh carried out on a cloud of breath in the cold night air. ❝ Little squirts ditched you too, huh? ❞ Lifted by black-polished digits that poked out from behind a pair of half-fingered gloves, a lit cigarette was brought to his lips, lingering just long enough for him to take a short drag.

[eddie]

ANSWERED ASK for : @g4slit ❛ RESTRICTED : for both muses to sneak into someplace they’re not supposed to be. ❜

⛧˖ ─── WITH A NOTEWORTHY REPUTATION FOR delinquency, the flashing of red and blue lights that followed Eddie Munson’s old Chevy into the parking lot of the gas station held very little in the way of shock value. The metalhead had a history of poor road etiquette, and coupled with a flair for dramatics and an almost habitual tendency to make bad decisions, he knew the drill all too well. Pull over, license and registration—as though they didn’t already know who he was—step out of the car… It was the same song and dance, and just like the other times, it ended in consequence. It was a lucky break that Hopper had been the one to catch him this time, but even so, he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain the sizeable FINE to Wayne.

            Dark eyes watched as his vehicle was towed away, sitting on the pathetic slant of its three remaining tires. With its departure went the dwindling remnants of his freedom, his self-sufficiency, some of his favorite cassette tapes and (only a little) of his pride. The metalhead exhaled a heavy sigh to lament his utter despair, but it was only a moment later that the breath was suddenly catching in his throat. ❝ Shit… ❞

            THE DRUGS.

            Sure, having his wheels taken away would put a damper on his mobility and it was kind of a downer, but the drugs in the glovebox? That spelled two things: one, DISASTER, and two, R.I.P on his tombstone. If Hopper or his uncle didn’t strangle him first, then Rick was certain to put him six feet under.

            ❝ Shit, shit, shit… ❞ The word fell from Eddie’s lips on the current of an endless loop as he rushed over to the main building, his pathway a direct beeline towards the payphone. Just as he’d begun to dig out some loose change from bottom of his pockets, however, he’d caught a glimpse of a familiar face through the window. A lightbulb flashed above his head and the booth was hastily abandoned in favor of a new approach; a solution that went by the name of ERNEST REILLY.

            Entering coolly through the front door as though he wasn’t having a complete internal meltdown, leather-clad arms folded atop the counter. ❝ Well, well, well… if it isn’t my favorite study buddy. Hello, Reilly! ❞ His tone came out almost MELODICALLY, the smile on his face splitting into a toothy grin with the tilt of his head; the sort of gesture that could only presuppose ulterior motives. It was a shot in the dark, but he’d sat next to Ernest throughout the entirety of the last semester and they’d gotten along well enough, he’d thought. Well enough to convince him to aid in his breaking of the law though? He could only hope.             ❝ Listen, I’m just gonna cut the bullshit and get right to it, uh… I know that you’re working and I have exactly... ZERO room to be asking for favors after you carried my ass through that math class, but, um… ❞ He sucked both of his lips inward, the fingers on one hand toying with the modeled rings on the other. ❝ Yeeeah… I’m in some deep shit, man. Like, really deep. That little soiree you saw in the parking lot just now? ❞ He made a gesture towards the sarcastic smile that was now gracing his features, a forced laugh escaping him. ❝ Courtesy of yours truly. ❞

            ❝ It’s a long story, but that was my van that they just towed. And that wouldn’t reeeally be the end of the world if it wasn’t for the, uh… precious cargo in the glovebox. Merchandise, if you will... You get me? ❞ His dark eyes narrowed a fraction. ❝ Trust me, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this if it wasn’t an emergency, dude… ❞ He shot him a pleading glance with the soft exhale of a defeated sigh and the slight slump of his shoulders. ❝ Please, Ernest Reilly—Johnny Boy—❞ He pushed himself away from the counter, pacing with his hands clasped in front of his chest. ❝—I humbly beg of thee… a ride to the impound lot. ❞ A pause. ❝ All you've gotta do is drop me off, that's it. And I’ll make it worth your while, I promise. I’ll give you a fat discount on—❞ He stopped to make a slow waving gesture with one of his hands. ❝—whatever you want. ❞

[eddie]

tag dump

[eddie]

ANSWERED ASK for : @godclaws ❛ I was worried something happened to you. ❜

⛧˖ ─── TRYING TO FIND A SENSE OF NORMALCY lately was nothing short of a challenge for the teen. Try as he may, his efforts to gather any amount of proper footing were constantly hindered by the murky waters of grief and unfamiliarity that he was wading through; every step a GAMBLE. This town had always had an aptitude for making him feel like he didn’t belong (not that he necessarily wanted to anyways), but Eddie didn’t think that he’d ever felt more like a fish out of water than he did lately. A new routine, a new house, a new neighborhood. There was so much to adjust to, and there were days when even the thought of making an ATTEMPT felt soul-sucking…

            Wayne’s death was a TOUGH pill to swallow even without all of the change that had come with his absence, and even now, after a month had passed, Eddie could still feel it catching in his throat. Felicity had been one of the few, if not the ONLY, person to make the upheaval of his roots feel remotely bearable. She’d offered him refuge in a world that was reluctant to offer him so much as a second glance, and he still had yet to truly express his gratitude towards her for that. He wasn’t sure how to, honestly.

            The metalhead had grown close to the kind woman during tutor sessions in her home economics classroom, but never could he have guessed that she ever would have CARED enough about him to extend such generosity. Even now, as he pulled up to the curb in front of the beautiful home that he’d been staying at for the last month, he’d needed to remind himself that it was OKAY to go inside; that he was allowed to. She’d reminded him numerously herself, but the words always refused to sink in, as though they were bent on floating on the surface like oil on water.

            This was his home now.

            Eddie turned off the ignition in his old van and climbed out, footsteps carrying him up to the front door where he could use the porch light (that he assumed Felicity had left on for him) to find the key that was dangling from his keychain collection. He’d tried to be as QUIET as possible as he’d slipped inside the doorway to avoid waking her up, but the kitchen light that illuminated the hallway made him wonder if she was even sleeping. At this hour, he couldn’t understand why she’d be up. He wasn’t left wondering for long, however, as she was quick to greet him.

            ❛ I was worried something happened to you. ❜

            The words made Eddie pause, the confusion that he felt internally becoming vaguely visible on his face. Had she been… waiting up for him? Was he the reason that she was still awake? SHIT.

            ❝ I, uh… No? ❞ The metalhead’s brow quirked as he tried to collect enough thoughts to form a sentence. ❝ No, I’m good. I’m fine. Band practice just ran late and I sort of, like… lost track of time. ❞ He assured her. There was a look on her face that he’d never seen her wear before, and it made him feel GUILTY for being the one to put it there. Was she ANGRY with him? An immediate sense of familiar insecurity began to bubble up within the hollow of his chest at the thought, the ground beneath his feet becoming unsteady; as though it could be pulled out from beneath him at any moment. He’d always been aware that he had the potential to fuck all of this up and get himself kicked to the curb, but…

            Ring-clad fingers began to fidget with the keys in his hands, his dark gaze shifting almost submissively away, like a PUPPY that was being scolded. ❝ Shit, was there like… a curfew or something that I was supposed to know about? ❞ His attention fell back onto her.