#eddie of the realms

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, shoving his phone in Steve’s face: The internet thinks you’re cheating on me

Steve, not fucking around in the slightest: I would never do that and anybody who thinks I would is an idiot.

Eddie: Yeah, I know. They think you’re cheating on me with Buckley

Steve:

Steve: *snorts*

Steve: Yeah, alright

Eddie: Stevie, baby, are you cheating on me with your ex-wife?

[feralsteddie]

obviously we see that eddie is pretty meticulous/clean and a lot of the grungy/gross eddie content is probably based on stereotyping and classism…

however i personally grew up in several trailer parks and think trailer trash douchebag!eddie is so unbelievably hot so keep up the good work guys

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you get butterflies upon meeting the town freak.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 fem!reader (she/her prns) 𖦹 college!au 𖦹 fluffy. so fluffy 𖦹 modern!au (reader found corroded coffin on spotify or something) 𖦹 chrissy is alive and well and gay as hell! 𖦹 i did not proofread this⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 4.6k (wow. longest fic i ever wrote. cray cray)

Walking down the seemingly never-ending hallway, you curse yourself. Being 5 minutes late to your first class wouldn't leave an excellent impression. You cringe when the door creaks open—squeezing your eyes shut and pursing your lips. You beeline to the back of the class and take the first empty seat you see. The boy sitting beside the vacant one gives you a tight-lipped smile. He has big brown eyes and long curly hair. 

'He's cute,' You think to yourself. 

Two weeks later, you sit in the building's lobby. Eddie almost does a spit-take when you tell him your first impression of him. "I swear!" You protest—eyes squinted from laughter, "I thought you had to be James Hetfield's son. Distant cousin, at least."

"It's just because of the clothes," He laughs.

"And the hair! The hair!"

He laughs more; you join him.

Not long after you've met, the two of you drive around in his van blasting music, singing, talking, the whole nine yards. Soon, you're at his trailer, talking to this famed "Wayne" Eddie always speaks so highly about. He doesn't say much before leaving, and you're worried he doesn't like you.

"He likes you just fine, lovely," He reassures. Your stomach flips at the nickname. Lovely, he's never called you that before. 

You nod, butterflies swarming in your stomach.

"What made you move here?" He asks, expertly rolling.

You're startled by the question, "Wanted to get away from my place. Family sucks sometimes," You shrug.

"So you decided to come to the rundown, shoddy town of Hawkins, Indiana?"

"Yeah."

"And then you befriended the town freak?"

You nod.

He shakes his head, "It seems like you're doing life all wrong."

"I think I'm doing it all right," You argue, "I met this boy, and we became friends. He's, like, the best friend I've ever had." You smile, looking at your hands as they rest in your lap.

Eddie smiles when he sees your eyes wandering around his room. He grins when you gawk at his homemade Corroded Coffin poster.

"You have a Corroded Coffin poster?" You practically squealed.

Eddie was confused, "Yes?"

Your head whips around so fast Eddie's worried you've injured yourself, "So you know who they are?" You were practically gushing.

"Yes?"

"Oh my God," Your words are rushed, "I love their music. I can't find any posters or shirts or anything. Where did you find this?"

Eddie can't stop his heart from overflowing, and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, "C'mon. I have something to show you. It's in the car."

Excitedly, you skip through his house and up to his van. He searches through the back to find a CD. He's giddy as he hops in, signaling you to do the same. Once you're in the bucket of bolts, as you like to call it—Eddie hates the nickname with a passion. Eddie starts the van, slotting the CD into the player.

"This is, uh," You hear a voice come through, "Our first recording. Hope it sounds good. This is Eddie Munson. From Corroded Coffin," He adds, "For record purposes—or something like that. I'm really fucking high right now."

Your jaw is on the floor, "You're lying."

"I'm not lying!" He argues.

"I genuinely don't believe that my best friend is part of the band Corroded Coffin."

"Baby, not only am I part of it, I'm the lead guitarist."

The nickname, everything about this, has the butterflies fighting their way up your ribcage. You won't let them win.

"If I ever got to see you perform," You say, exhaling smoke, "I would've thrown my bra on the stage."

Eddie laughs, hoping you don't see how red his face is getting. "You wouldn't have," He disputes, "I'm just some guy."

"Or my panties," You ignore him, "Or any article of clothing." 

"Again, babe, I'm just some guy." He repeats.

"Some awesome guy," You correct, "Who is sexy and can play the guitar."

Eddie sits up to stare at you, "Did you just call me sexy?"

Your eyes are saucers, "No. No, I didn't. I would never say anything like that."

A smirk crawls up Eddie's face, settling on his lips. It's a good look, you think, before shaking your head. Trying to get rid of the thought like your mind was an etch-a-sketch. 

"What are you thinking about, pretty thing?"

The butterflies are in your throat, and you're unsure how long you can contain them. "Nothing," You respond, bringing the joint back to your lips.

He snatches it away from you, and you whine. He frowns at you, mocking sympathy, "You can have it back when you tell me what you're thinking."

Finally, you sit up, "'M thinking about how I want to smoke some more." You huff, crossing your arms.

"C'mon, babe," He pleads, batting his big brown eyes.

The butterflies are in your mouth, and you hold your breath, willing them not to escape. "I have to leave," Your words are rushed as you stand up, frantically looking for your sweater.

Eddie watches in amusement, "Looking for something?" He holds the sweater out of your reach.

"Whatever, I don't even need my sweater." You huff, going to storm out of his home.

Eddie stops you, "Shit, baby. I didn't know I upset you that much. I'm sorry." He frowns, and it feels sincere. So many things feel sincere with him, and it hurts your heart. You accept his apology and walk back to his room. He snuggles up with you in the tiny bed. It's nice when you lay with Eddie. His hands explore your body—they trace over your stretch marks and scars, rub up and down your thigh, and grab at your stomach. He doesn't touch you like a typical boy would. He's not lustful; he's gentle. He has no ulterior motives—he just wants to be close to you. He squeezes your hip, and you sigh pleasantly—a butterfly escapes. You let him know that he is bliss through a simple sigh, and Eddie takes that information and runs with it. He squeezes your hip again. You hum.

"Nice," You tiredly whisper. 

Eddie can't help his grin, "Yeah? Feels nice, baby?"

You nod lazily, "Like when you call me baby."

Yeah, you're tired—tired and high.

He hums in response, and you fall asleep in his arms.

Eddie can definitely get used to this, he thinks. He finds you lovely like this. You have a little bit of drool on the corner of your mouth, and you'll totally freak out about it later. He's not sure why. All he knows is that you'll pitch a playful fit if he pokes fun at you. You'll do that thing where you get all pouty, and Eddie just wants to kiss your lips, which is something he cannot do. So he'll stick with not making fun of you. 

You're softly snoring, and Eddie can't help but think that this is domesticity—this is what it's all about. For the first time, Eddie knows what he wants. He wants to wake up to you clinging onto him like a koala, and he wants to wipe away your drool, and he wants to get up and make breakfast for you. 

"Baby," He whispers. It's gentle, like he doesn't want to wake you up, but he knows you'll be upset if you're late to class. You groan and murmur: "Five more minutes."

He wants to say okay, but it's eight o'clock, and you need to leave in twenty minutes. 

"Baby," He repeats, softly shaking you, "It's eight."

You nearly spring up, "Eight?!" You ask, exasperated. "Eddie," You whine, "Why didn't you get me up earlier?"

"Because last night you told me to get you up at eight," He shrugs.

"I said eight at the latest, Eddie." You frown and cross your arms. And then you feel it—there's drool on your face. You furiously wipe at the side of your mouth, growing more embarrassed by the moment. You get up, grab your clothes, and head to the bathroom. It's pretty cramped in there; you make do. You splash cold water on your face, grab your toothbrush, and brush your teeth for undoubtedly shorter than two minutes. Your fingers comb through your hair, and you call it a day. 

You lean against Eddie's doorframe, "Funny seeing you here." You smirk, and then your face heats up when you realize he's shirtless. Then, you can't stop staring at the plethora of scars that litter his body. What the fuck?

"Like what you see?" He asks, flashing his teeth. Then, his expression drops as he realizes that you're not enjoying the view; you're wondering what the fuck happened to him.

"I'll tell you in the car," He mutters. This is it—this is the end of any kind of chance he had with you. You won't believe him. Hell, he didn't believe it for a while. 

On the drive to school, he tells you. He tells you everything, keeping his eyes on the road. He's too scared of your rejection. At the end of the story, all you have to say is: "I believe you, Eddie."

You're parked when he speaks next, and the three minutes in between feel like torture.

"You do?"

You can't make out his expression, "Eddie," You laugh out, though nothing's humorous, "If you told me the loch ness monster was real, I would believe you."

"Babe, this is far weirder than the loch ness monster. There is another dimension, baby."

The nickname has another butterfly escaping from your mouth as you smile. 

"What's got you so happy?" He laughs as you try to hide your grin.

"Nothing," You shake your head. Eddie doesn't believe you. 

"Are you happy that I almost died? What is it?"

You turn sheepish, fidgeting with your rings, "You called me baby again."

"You're cute as a button."

Class is spent yawning and passing notes to one another. Eddie's good at drawing, and he draws you amazing, stupid doodles. You keep every single one. They are hung up all over your room.

"Worst room decor ever," Eddie mumbles as he enters your room.

"Best room decor ever," You correct him.

"I can't believe you kept all of this. All of my shitty drawings."

You furrow your brows, "They're not shitty, Eddie. Don't say things like that."

He laughs at your sincerity, "Okay, baby, I won't."

There's no way he's not saying it just to fluster you at this point.

"Stop," You whine.

"Stop what, baby?"

You huff as you plop onto your bed, "Calling me baby."

"I thought you liked it when I called you baby, baby."

"I like it when you do it sincerely, Edison."

"Edison?!" His brows jump, "Isn't that the dude who invented the lightbulb?"

"All those years in high school did pay off!" You clap, "Good job Eddie!"

He scowls, "Funny. Real amusing," You giggle, "Yeah, keep it up. Keep laughing at the freak."

You pout, "I'm not laughing at the freak. I'm laughing at the smart boy I met on my first day of college."

Fuck, Eddie wants to kiss the pout right off of you. He settles for sitting next to you.

"Don't pout, baby," He rests his head on your shoulder, "I'm not worth pouting over."

This time, you actually pout, "What do you mean 'not worth pouting over?'"

"C'mon, sweetheart," He sighs, "I'm not worth much in general."

"You are worth so much, Eddie. And I'm not just saying that. You mean so much to me. You think I'd pin anyone's drawings up all around my room?"

He hides his head further into your neck.

"Hey, don't get all shy on me now." You chide, though the words have no backbone to them. 

"'M getting shy on you. Not gonna stop until you're done being sappy." He murmurs into your neck—his hair is tickling you. You cant find it in you to care. 

"C'mon," You whine, "Show me your pretty face, Eddie." 

"No." He nuzzles further into your neck, "Called me pretty." He's soft-spoken—it's an intimate moment. An intimate moment that's unlike any other you've had. A boy is on your shoulder, and you built up the courage to call him pretty. 

"You are pretty," You affirm.

"So are you."

You smile, butterflies growing stronger.

"You want to have lunch together?" Your voice crackles over the phone, and Eddie is unable to make out what you're saying. 

"Sorry, what was that, sweetheart?"

"Edward," You state, "Would you like to get lunch with me?"

He frowns, "I can't."

You frown, too, "Why not?"

"An old friend is in town. I'm getting lunch with her at the best diner ever." He explains

"Oh!" 

"Yeah, I'm really excited to see her." He continues.

"Okay, okay, we get it. You can't wait to see your BFF." Your tone is slightly more bitter than you intend, and Eddie picks up on it.

"What? You jealous?" He teases.

"Furthest thing from it, Edwin."

"Edwin?!"

"Goodbye, Edmund." You hang up. 

Dejected, you walk to the cafeteria.

It's only been a year since Eddie last saw Chrissy, and he's missed her like hell. Back in the little diner, they laugh over nothing and everything.

He gets a call in the middle of Chrissy telling a story.

"Baby?" He answers, and Chrissy lights up. 

"Can you get me something? A burger, maybe?"

And, of course, he'll bring you a burger. He'd bring you the sun and the moon if it meant he could see you smile.

"No," He declares, "No, I will not do that."

"Did I do something, Eddie? Sorry for calling you Edwin earlier. If that's what you're upset about."

"I'm joking around, baby. I'll definitely bring back a burger for you. I'll get you all the burgers you want. I'll fill my van with burgers, even." He twirls his hair. Chrissy can't stop grinning.

"Love you forever, Eds. I gotta go now."

"Why?" Eddie wines.

"'Cause there's a really cute boy walking towards me. Bye!"

And before he can respond, you've hung up.

"So..." Chrissy starts, "Who're you calling 'baby?'"

"Nobody," Eddie goes red, staring at his fries.

"C'mon, Eddie," She pleads, "I told you all about my girlfriend. Time to tell me about your partner."

"I'm not dating anybody, actually," Eddie frowns the slightest bit, "We're just friends."

"Okay, so," Chrisssy claps her hands together, "While I am here, I will be rolling out my master plan: Get Eddie Together With The Love of His Life. I'll figure out a way to shorten it."

Eddie's eyes widen, "Woah! Love of my life? A little too far, Chris."

"I saw that smile," She giggles, "Don't try and hide it from me."

"Reminder to self," You say, walking to class, "Just because he's cute does not mean he's interesting."

"Where's the pretty boy?"

You turn around to see Eddie jogging toward you. He holds a box that has your name written on it, next to it, a big heart.

"He was boring," You scoffed, "Wouldn't stop talking about baseball. Who even cares?"

Eddie throws his head back, "Exactly! Who fucking cares?! Not me, I'll tell you that much."

You laugh, going to snatch the box from his hands. "Mmm. Burbger."

“Burbger?” He laughs.

You nod, “Mhm.”

"Good burger," You sigh, "How come you've never taken me there? To the diner?" You clarify. 

"Never felt the need to," He shrugs, and it hurts your feelings. 

"Cool." 

He nods, oblivious to his hurtful words.

You don't drive home with Eddie for the first time in weeks. You know you're acting childish, but he really did hurt your feelings.

Eddie still doesn't think anything is wrong until you don't text him goodnight. You always say goodnight to him. 

'Baby,'

He texts you,

'I'm not sure what I did to hurt you, but I'm sorry.'

You don't answer, and his anxieties grow by the second.

What did he do?

"Eddie?" Chrissy croaks, "It's two in the morning." 

"It's actually two fifty-eight," He corrects.

"Eddie," She scolds, "You know I love you, but shut the fuck up and tell me why you called me."

"I kind of fucked up big time. A big ole fucky-wucky on my part, Chris."

"Eddie, stop speaking in riddles and tell me what's happening."

"She won't talk to me—she didn't say goodnight, she won't answer my texts, she didn't come home with me today," He rattles off.

"Woah, woah, woah cowboy." Chrissy sighs, "Do you have any clue why she might not have said goodnight?"

"Because I fucked up?" He asks.

"Obviously. Do you know why you fucked up?"

"No. I don't. I have not a clue, Chris." He sighs, "Not a clue."

"Okay. Unhelpful," Chrissy groans, "Recall today's events."

"I woke up at seven forty-six," He begins.

"I meant your interactions with her, dimwit."

"She asked if I wanted to have lunch," he begins recounting his day, "Then she asked for a burger. I gave her the burger, and she said it was delicious. She then asked me why I never took her to the diner, and I said I never felt the need to. That's it."

Chrissy rolls her eyes, sighing, "You told her you never felt the need to?"

Eddie senses he's made a big mistake, "...Yes?"

"You idiot. Obviously, this diner is special to you, right?"

Eddie rubs his hand over his face, "I told her it's the best diner ever."

"Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot! You are so incredibly foolish, Edward."

"I know," He groans, "I'm going to apologize now."

"Goodnight, Munson."

"Night, Cunningham."

You wake up in a haze. Sitting up, you make a mental note to never cry yourself to sleep again. The first thing you do is check your phone.

Eddie's text lights up your screen.

'Hey,' It beings, 'Sorry for saying I never felt the need to take you to the diner. It's a really special place for me. I don't go often because I need it to remain special. I need it to stay stuck in time. I've only ever gone with my friends from before you, but I'll take you soon. I promise.'

It doesn't come off the best, but you know what he means. You're new to his life, and he wants to keep the diner old.

'Thanks, Eds :) I forgive you,' You reply.

'See you at school,' You finish.

Eddie walks into the lobby with a wild grin, searching for you. You're on your phone, probably playing that stupid game he likes to make fun of.

Eddie pulls out the seat opposite yours. You look up and smile.

"You look like the Cheshire Cat," You smirk.

"He went... that way," He puts on a goofy voice, reciting the creepy cat.

"Who did?" You play along.

"The white rabbit."

You widen your eyes, "He did?"

"Who did?" He furrows his brows.

"The white rabbit," You chuckle.

He takes a deep inhale, "What rabbit?"

Laughing, you continue, "But you just said— oh dear."

Eddie stands up, extending his arm toward you, "Can you stand on your head?"

You giggle, taking his hand.

You grab lunch together. Eddie's not ready to take you to the diner, so you settle for the small pizza place next to campus. Eddie nearly inhales his food, and you laugh when he chokes on his soda. You feel an overwhelming sense of joy when it comes to him, and you know the butterflies are making their way out.

On the drive to his house, he taps along with a song you've just played, and you're bubbling with excitement that he just listened to music that wasn't metal. Let alone a piece you showed him.

"I could get used to your music," He pauses, inhales deeply, then continues. "I think."

You laugh—you're always laughing with him, it seems.

You find yourself on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, ready to watch Scream. Eddie plops down next to you when the movie starts. About five minutes in, he pretends to yawn and reaches his arm around your shoulder. You giggle, leaning into him, and the butterflies flap their wings rapidly. You fall asleep on Eddie's side.

"Lovebirds," You hear a voice boom, "Go to bed."

You groggily open your eyes and look up to, what seems to be, the voice of god. It's Wayne, you realize.

Eddie's face is bright red after his uncle's words register. 

'Lovebirds.'

You seem unaffected by the term; secretly, excitement bubbles in your stomach.

"Didn't I tell you to fall asleep in a bed? Not on my couch?"

"Sorry, Wayne," You mumble.

He pats you on the shoulder, "Just don't want you two to have back pains before you're supposed to."

"Thanks, Wayne," You murmur as you shuffle to Eddie's room.

"Of course," The man grumbles.

"Told you he likes you," Eddie mumbles into your hair as he presses a chaste kiss to your head.

"Kids in love," Wayne mutters, sitting on the couch.

Fucking midterms. You genuinely cannot stand them. You've been up late every night this week studying and want to bash your head in. You've barely had time to see Eddie outside of class, and it just makes everything ten times worse. You've talked to him over the phone, but nothing matched his touch. His warm, calloused hands would run up and down your arms when you were cold or up and down your sides when you lay together. You've missed his lingering kisses on your cheek and forehead.

You've also missed Wayne. You've come to understand how he shows love—just last week, he gave you your favorite candy, and you were gushing about it to Eddie.

Now, you sit in your room—the only light coming from your laptop, and the wrapper of Wayne's gift is crumpled on your desk's side. Your phone buzzes, and you smile at the stupid picture of Eddie that lights up your screen.

"Hello?" Eddie says in a goofy voice, "Hellooo?" He asks again.

"Hi," You respond with a giddy smile.

"Hi, I'm lookin' for a real pretty girl. She told me that this is her phone number. She's brilliant and sweet, and my uncle Wayne loves her."

"Yeah? Lookin' for her?"

"I sure am."

"I'll let her know in about an hour—when she finishes studying."

Eddie pouts, hoping you'll hear it, "Why?"

It doesn't go unnoticed, "'Cause she's gotta study."

"Booo!" He yells. You hang up.

"Hello?" You ask with a smile.

"Hi."

"Someone told me a very handsome guy was calling for me. Said he's got cool rings and can play guitar."

"Oh!" You can hear him chuckle, "I do recall that conversation."

"So," You take a deep breath, "What'd ya want to talk about?"

"Politics, the weather, the deal with the DMV, and how I hate my wife."

You laugh, "So I've got 90's stand-up comic Eddie on the line?"

"Sure do, sweetheart."

You fall asleep on the phone.

"Eds," You whisper.

He turns the music down, "Yes?"

"What if I fail?"

"Baby," He puts his hand on your thigh, and the butterflies won't stop flapping their wings, "You're not gonna fail. You've been studying all week. If anything, I'm going to fail."

You roll your eyes, "I told you you should've studied."

Eddie rolls his eyes back, snatching his hand away from you, "I told you the only way I was going to study unless it was with you."

"Oh, so this is my fault?"

"If I fail, it's your fault, sweetheart."

"How do you think you did?" Eddie finished long before you. Your whole body is filled with bubbling nerves.

"I don't know," You respond, not daring to look anywhere but forward, "I feel like I'm going to faint." You murmur.

"Okay, baby." Eddie grabs your shoulders and runs his hands up and down your arms, "Take a deep breath. In... and out."

You don't care that you might be blocking the hallway—the students can find a way around you. All that matters is Eddie is helping you calm down—his hands are on you, and his head is resting on yours.

"You feelin' a little better, baby?" He asks after a few minutes.

"Feelin' a lot better."

"I'm glad."

He kisses your shoulder, and you swoon.

"What's on your mind?" Eddie asks, bringing the joint to his mouth. It's a roach at this point—he still insists on smoking it.

"Nothing," You answer—he can tell you're lying. He says it, and you roll your eyes, "Eddie, I'm not lying."

"Seriously, babe." He sits up, "What's goin' on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"First off, rude." You cross your arms with a sad expression, "Second, nothing. I am literally thinking about what I'm going to have for dinner."

"Food. You're going to have food. Now, what are you actually thinking about?"

It's strange that Eddie is being so adamant about this. Usually, if you ask him to leave something alone, he'll leave it alone. It's as if he knows that you've got butterflies in every crevice of your body—that you like him—and he's trying to coax it out of you. You're unsure why.

"What are you thinking about?" You shoot back.

"Not fair. I asked you first." He pouts.

"And I asked you second." You shrug with a smug smirk.

"Yeah, so you should answer first. I should answer second." He reasons. 

"I'm thinking about a person," You begin, "A boy." It's all you supply.

"A boy?" Eddie asks, suddenly growing insecure. His crush on you isn't a new thing. He was sure he was in love with you the second you said he looked like James Hetfield. He would swear on his life that he liked you the second he saw you. 

"Yes, Edward, a boy. Okay, your turn. What're you thinking about?"

"Chrissy."

It's painfully apparent that you're hurt, "Chrissy? Who's Chrissy?"

Part of Eddie is happy you seem jealous. The other part of him feels terrible.

"Chrissy is the girl I went to the diner with."

You nod dramatically, "Oh, yeah. Of course. Of course."

He can't hold it in any longer, "Jealous?"

Your eyes are saucers, "What?"

"What?" He parrots.

"What makes you think I'm jealous?"

"Just a hunch," He shrugs.

"No," You cross your arms, "Why do you think I'm jealous? And what exactly am I jealous of?" You demand.

"Well, the change in body language when I said Chrissy would suggest that you are jealous. Jealous of Chrissy and I's relationship."

"One, the correct wording would be 'Chrissy and me,'" You quip—Eddie rolls his eyes, "Second, you sound ridiculous. You sound like you're stupid, but you're trying to be smart."

"Don't call me stupid," Eddie crosses his arms, "I'm brilliant. Thank you very much."

"I didn't call you stupid, Eds," You pout. 

"Stop pouting," He pokes your jutted-out lip, "It makes me want to—" He cuts himself off by bringing the joint back to his lips.

"It makes you want to what?" You ask, secretly hoping the answer is what you've been wishing for.

"It makes me want to do something I shouldn't do."

"Yeah?" You smile, "Like what."

"Sweetheart," He sighs, "I have a feeling that you know. And I'm not sure why you insist on hearing it from my mouth."

"I don't know what you mean," You feign innocence.

"I think you know exactly what I mean." He whispers into your ear, and you shudder at the sudden closeness.

You turn, "C'mon, Ed's," You're so close that you're sure the butterflies will float out of your mouth and go straight in his, "Don't make me say it."

"Well, I don't want to say it, either," He mutters.

"So... where does that leave us?"

Three beats of silence go by, and a butterfly escapes when he puts his hand over yours.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice is a whisper.

"Yes."

guys i fink im going to do a part 2 :0

as always, thank you for reading <3

mutuals:

@queerpumpkinnn @woahlifehitsyahuh @evergreenlover @reysdriver @thesunandstarss @tracymbcm @youre-so-lovely @y4ksh42 @until-i-found-you @inkluvs @imabee-oralizard @prongsio @puppy-coded @spaceagebachelormann @starsval @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @dancinglikeaballerina @ghostlyfleur @just-another-lovesong @starlit-epiphany @justpjostufff @lovers-tunnel @zvdvdlvr @cosmal @vampieteeth @bruisedboys @meredarling @maddipoof

[thegayestdiaz]

there are so many theories around what’s really happening with eddie’s arc. if he’s having hallucinations. or a if it’s brain tumour. or he’s having a mental break and just straight up making bad decisions. but for all that we try not to speculate to close to the sun, at the end of the day this is 911, a show created by ryan murphy of glee infamy. the truth might actually be crazier than any spec ever could be

[vulpinesaint]

taking a moment to show everyone this and then telling you that the symbiote is not present in these panels. eddie brock has a magic suit on that gives him the venom powers but it is Just Him in there. eddie brock gets a venom suit on and HIS first instinct BY HIMSELF is to bite the absolute FUCK out of people. just for funzies i guess

[pinkkinoko]

uhhh right so... Mungrove comic, I tried to censor but lets see if it works

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

steddie au where fae!eddie promises the harringtons wealth and renown in exchange for their eldest daughters hand in marriage and they're like lol ok no skin off our back we don't have a daughter and then stevies like uh so actually about that

[monstrousmuse]

Honestly, they should have just given The Horrifying Sweaty One-Armed Monstrosity a giant Gobstopper—y’know, those rainbow ones with the cool psychedelic swirling patterns on the inside—and told him that it was a Candy Planet or something.

All of his their problems would have been solved.

[ebongawk]

fae king Eddie finding human Chrissy wandering the woods going, “HMMM SURE HOPE I DON’T STUMBLE UPON A DOORWAY INTO ANOTHER REALM” after she starts having Vecna nightmares

[golden-stag]

Forgive my poor Venom gameplay, this was me just messing around in Arcade Mode trying to get a feel for him.

But I did NOT know his win animation had a hit box, and the way this match ended made me bust out laughing-

[daryldamnson]

made a wish on elevens - historical royal au

summary: eddie’s a servant. he knows what that means. he knows he can’t have you. he loves you anyway. fem!reader, hardcore pining

unoffically made this for yearoftheotpevent's 2023 thing because i'm not actually taking part but i really liked the idea so i picked january: historical au

word count: 1k

title from wish on an eyelash by mallrat

“Is it so wrong?  Wishing to love and be loved in return?”

You remain oblivious to the sad, lovelorn stare levelled at you as you sigh quietly, gaze roving over the hills in the distance as you continue to muse.

“Perhaps not wrong, I suppose…  Just silly.  A naive wish I thought I’d long grown out of.”  You glance over at him and flash a dry smile.  “Apparently not.”

“You knew the day approached, My Lady.”  Eddie speaks softly, wary of slipping up and speaking out of turn, especially within the walls of the castle.  “Surely it does not come as a shock to you?”

“I don’t know, I…. I suppose I never truly thought it through until today.  Or, rather, I did and simply hoped I may grow to love the man chosen for me.”  You let out an amused huff of air, shaking your head.  “Or, Gods, even like him.  Is a fondness for my husband really so strange a wish?”

“Of course not, My Lady.”  And then, because apparently he’s a masochist, “You don’t believe you may form affection for Lord Hargrove?”

Your eyes flick over to him and he can’t help the soft breath of laughter that escapes him at your expression.

“That awful?”

“And more.  Gods, Eddie, you should’ve heard the way he spoke to his footman.  And Robin when she served his drink ‘from the wrong side’ - honestly!  He has also clearly never had to use the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ before, which is a minor indictment on his list of offences, I assure you, but I find it enraging all the same.  And - stop laughing at me!”

Even as you admonish him for his stifled laughter a bright smile grows on your face and a few giggles of your own slip through.  He’s not always entirely sure how he does it - though he certainly puts on the show of a jester sometimes just for your sake - but Eddie loves making you smile like that.

He shouldn’t, he knows that.  It’s wrong.  You’re a Lady and he’s lucky to even work in the castle, let alone harbour affections towards…  It’s wrong.  It’s wrong.  It’s wrong.

Eddie tries his hardest to convince himself, but how can his - usually successful - attempts at bringing such a lovely smile to your face be anything but right and good? 

Your laughter fades out but there’s a happy quirk to your lips that remains so Eddie takes this as a success.

“I’m truly serious, Eddie, he…”  You shake your head, almost baffled-looking.  “I cannot imagine having to marry a person like that.  Basic decency should never be an optional trait - certainly not in someone I’m to spend my life with or trust to look after my people.  I had hoped…  I don’t know, that I could at least be friends with my betrothed.  Best friends, preferably.  I mean, is that not the point?  Are we not supposed to get along?  Make each other happy?  Want to spend time together?  I don’t believe any of those things could be true if I were to marry that selfish, tactless, inconsiderate brute.”

Your weary sigh and freshly returned frown weighs heavily on his chest, and he finds himself scrambling for something to reassure you with.  But nothing appears - what can you say to a woman destined to marry someone not of her own choosing?

Marry me instead, a voice echoes in his head.  I would make you happy, or try my best to.  I would be devoted to you for the rest of my life - I will be anyway, no matter whom you marry.  Please.  Just consider me.  I love you, I love you, I love you.

No.  He certainly can’t say that.

“I am sorry, My Lady,” he lands on, pouring sympathy into his tone as your gaze lands on him once again.

There’s a comfortable pause before you speak, holding eye contact as you grace him with another gentle smile.  Eddie hopes he isn’t imagining the fondness in your eyes or your tone.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“For what?  I hardly provided useful council.”

“For listening.  For always…  Always listening and letting me ramble on at you.  I’m forever grateful.  You truly are my best friend.”

Your hand rises and hovers near his arm, a ghost of a smile flitting across your lips as you pull away, both of you distinctly aware of what the ramifications of you touching a male servant in such a familiar way would be.

Eddie would suffer for it, and you won’t stand for that.  Sometimes he thinks it would be worth it, but were he banished or imprisoned he’d never see you again so he has to admit he’s infinitely grateful for your stronger willpower.

The sudden appearance of Robin causes you to take another step back from him and Eddie finds himself mourning the loss.  Even more so when she informs you that your mother is requesting your presence and you let out a long-suffering sigh as you turn to follow her.

You exchange a parting glance, Eddie dipping into a gentle bow as you walk past, and it’s not until you’re halfway down the hallway before you look over your shoulder to see him watching you leave.

“Wish me luck that the next is more tolerable!”

He can’t call down the hall at that volume the way you can lest he be punished, but he does mutter “good luck, My Lady,” under his breath for you.

Because as much as he longs for you to return his feelings, you are more important.  You will undoubtedly be marrying a man of your own stature, and Eddie loves you too much to wish you anything but pure happiness, even if that is found with someone else.  Even when it would break his heart.

Eddie would happily wish for it to be torn to pieces if only to ensure you a contented life.

The heavy doors close behind you and Eddie turns to look out of the same window you had occupied only moments before.

He allows himself one moment to let his thoughts of you swirl through his mind before he closes the lid once more and turns to walk in the opposite direction, off to complete the duties of a lowly manservant you would never be allowed to marry.

requests are open but no promises i just go where the inspo takes me

p.s. it was no accident that reader said she wanted to marry her best friend and then called eddie her best friend two minutes later, eddie thinks it's unrequited but he's dumb ♡

[bylerswift]

stranger things s4 characters alignment chart

you guys don’t know how much this hurt me to make. i wish joyce was on there but i got down to “communist” and “the normal one” and i just couldn’t

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· eddie munson and his cheerleader freak girlfriend ·:*¨༺

@queerpumpkinnn @woahlifehitsyahuh @evergreenlover @ell0ra-br3kk3r @reysdriver @turvi @tracymbcm @youre-so-lovely @y4ksh42 @until-i-found-you @imabee-oralizard @onmyknees4lily @puppy-coded @prongsio @starsval @saturnband @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @dancinglikeaballerina @ghostlyfleur @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @just-another-lovesong @justpjostufff @lovers-tunnel @zvdvdlvr @cosmal @vampieteeth @bellathethirstybitch @bruisedboys

[vulpinesaint]

partners who enact incredible violence together stay together

[ravensfromvalhalla]

Okay, this is for my fellow canadian stranger things fans. Im sorry to everyone else.

Does Eddie strike any of you as a man who would go feral over all dressed chips? Cuz frankly, i think he'd be OBSESSED. Or even ketchup chips. And he'd try to convince Steve that they're amazing and Steve is NOT having it. It would be the great munsington family debate. Wayne's on Steve's side but Dustin is firmly in Eddie's corner, telling Steve he just doesn't understand such nuanced flavours.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

changeling!steve part 2

part like. 0.5

part 1 (part 1 ao3)

ok so definitely the most fun part of any fae au is imagining the fae realm like. ooo alternate dimension thats pretty and creepy at the same time??? stunning, conceptually. basically i imagine it like the bubble in annihilation (great movie that was definitely about humans traveling into the fae realm and nothing can convince me otherwise).

and so far steve’s only been in there alone. it’s not really safe or healthy for humans to be there for too long (again this is a sign for you to watch annihilation on netflix if you don’t mind body horror and psychological horror. very spiral based if you subscribe to the magnus archives fear sorting system). he definitely wouldn’t take any of the party there if he could help it. eddie might be fine, but the very nature of the fae realm really wouldn’t mesh with the highly curious and intellectual minds of most of his friends. if the upside down is the human dimension turned upside down, then the fae realm is the human world turned sideways and inside out.

the whole place feels different. as weird and unsettling as the upside down is, it still feels fundamentally the same as the human world, just if the earth had had an entirely different geological and evolutionary history. but in the fae realm, it’s like the very atoms are put together differently. it’s hard to put your finger on it really. for all intents and purposes it looks like a normal forest on a sunny summer’s day. but it’s a little too bright, and it’s hard to tell where the light comes from, really. there might be a sun peeking through the dense canopy, but nothing casts shadows. the light seems to come from the trees themselves in a very strange way, not like a tree shaped lamp or anything but like the light starts in the air around the trunks. steve had to learn to turn his brain off every time he visited, like the more he tried to think and make sense of his surroundings the more his head hurt and his stomach turned. and that’s steve; dustin or nancy wouldn’t stand a chance.

unfortunately, he doesn’t really have a choice here. eddie’s dying, and they definitely don’t have the time to make it back to the gate and then all the way to the hospital before the magic keeping him alive gives up and he bleeds out. steve needs a shortcut. so he thinks quickly, ties jackets around his, nancy’s, robin’s, and dustin’s waists until they’re tied together like links in a daisy chain. warns him as best he can about the dangers of the fae realm as he bundles eddie into his arms, never more thankful for his unnatural strength than he is right now.

he tells the humans of the group to stay focused, keep their eyes on the back of the person in front of them, and that no matter what they hear they can’t look away. it’s so, so easy for a human to get lost in the fae realm, that’s practically what it’s for, and he’s not risking anything. tells them if they somehow get separated, to put their shirt on inside out and start walking backwards, to not stop unless steve shows up and picks them up bodily. under no circumstances should they follow any voices calling out for them, even if it sounds like one of their party.

when they’ve all repeated his instructions back to him, shown they’re taking this seriously (he knows the inside-out shirt thing sounds dumb, but it works. he’s not unconvinced that the tried-and-true methods for getting out of the fae realm aren’t supposed to sound dumb, like the universe left loopholes in fae magic that are so stupid humans dismiss them out of hand, getting stuck just because they don’t want to look ridiculous), he gets to opening a doorway. he’s glad he practiced before this, doesn’t have to hang around waiting, and soon there’s a little space between the twisted trees of the upside down where the light looks a little different, the air smells a little sweeter.

he leads them in, and the second his foot hits the soft, pillowy moss of the fae realm, all of his injuries seem to disappear. he breathes a sigh of relief, even if the rest of the group hisses in surprise as their eyes struggle to adjust to the harsh light. more magic funnels into him, and he sends all of it to eddie’s fragile form in his arms, willing the witch’s flesh to knit together. just being here has sort of stopped the bleeding; time works strangely in the fae realm, he can feel it trickling slowly over them. eddie’s still technically dying, but now he’s dying at like quarter speed.

steve leads them through the forest, looking for a good place to build a doorway to the hospital and occasionally glancing back at the group to make sure he hasn’t lost anyone. they’re all still with him, and just like he expected, their faces are pinched with pain and nausea, nance and dustin especially. robin’s head keeps twitching like she’s hearing something off to her side and half-turning to look, before remembering her instructions and keeping her eyes resolutely stuck on the back of nancy’s head.

he’s honestly not sure what they’re hearing. whatever magic is built to ensnare humans here doesn’t work on him. there’s probably not any other fae calling out to them- he’s reasonably sure he’s be able to hear it if there were. he’s met other fae a few times, never talking to them for very long, and each interaction has been both confusing for the part of him that still feels human (being raised as such for 18 years before learning otherwise definitely left a mark on his psyche) and deeply refreshing for the part of him that knows he’s not

they make it most of the way through without incident. he doesn’t talk to the group behind him, doesn’t want to confuse them further when he already said not to trust anything they hear in this place. but he talks to eddie, bundled in his arms and slipping in and out of consciousness, tells him it’s okay, steve’s got him, they’re almost at the hospital. tries to crack a joke and tells him to hold the blood in, which earns him a weak huff of laughter that lights up his heart until it turns into wet coughing.

eddie has to be okay. steve isn’t entertaining any other possibility.

he’s just found a good place for a doorway, two trees bent together in an arch in just the right location for steve to link it to the park right by the hospital, when he sees the fairy. they’re currently in the shape of another tree, but steve can see them plain as day as long as he’s not using his eyes. they’re watching him, watching the gaggle of humans he’s brought into their land, watching the witch currently bleeding out in steve’s arms. a breeze like a sigh ruffles through their leaves, the bow of their branches looks almost pitying. they don’t say anything as he passes them, and neither does he.

they’re all through the doorway in another beat of a heart. dustin lets out a gasp of relief as soon as they hit the cool night air, and nancy quickly unties herself to throw up into a bush. steve wants to check in on them, but eddie’s bleeding has picked up again now that they’re back in a dimension where time means something.

robin smiles at him reassuringly, regardless of how pale she looks. ‘i’ve got them. get him inside, quick.’

and steve does, rushing towards the hospital doors with the closest thing a fairy can get to a prayer sitting heavy on his tongue.

eddie can’t die. steve won’t let him.

....

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