grrlsoft

[grrlsoft]

Joseph Quinn for 1883 Magazine

#beautiful beautiful man #katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

THE PERFECT GIRL – E. MUNSON

𖥻 summary: in which eddie makes a mixtape for you. 𖥻 pairing: eddie munson x alt!reader. 𖥻 warnings: this is part of my alt!reader concept, but can be read as a standalone. poor grammar possibly. not proofread.

💭 liv's thoughts: a big thanks to @saintlessmunson for reading my first draft <333 i only function on sudden urges and this is another one of them. just a compilation of songs that were important to the development of your relationship w eddie. it was supposed to have 5 songs, but i wrote about 3 bc i'm lazy <3 really hope you enjoy it! the fic's playlist.

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.

IS THERE SOMETHING I SHOULD KNOW? do you feel the same 'cause you don't let it show

Eddie almost regretted stepping foot inside the old record shop that day, especially when the music coming from the speakers was so loud that it could be heard from across the street; the annoying sound of Simon Le Bon's voice piercing through his ears as he miserably made his way inside. Walking with his head low to keep people from staring at him, he went straight to the Weird Al Yankovic section, trying to get this over with already. 

His fingers expertly went through the selection of records, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to find whatever record Dustin didn't have because he simply didn't know what it was. It would've been so much easier if he could just gift the boy the new D&D book, or some great figures – but what could he possibly give to a kid who already has everything? His favorite artist's new album, of course. And that's what he intended to do if only he knew what his latest record was called. 

"I always took you for a Judas Priest type of weird. Didn't know you were taking a step further," a familiar voice said, getting closer. He slowly looked to his side, realizing that you were walking towards him, in your full gothic attire; a cute lacy dress, with fishnets and heavy boots, all in black, of course. Eddie wasn't really in the mood to bicker, but for you, he could make an exception. 

"It's not for me, Dracula," he muttered, still very focused on going through the endless records in front of him – half of them were just copies of the same title, which made more sense than Weird Al making so many records. "I'm buying this for Henderson. The small kid, curly hair, always with a cap". 

He absentmindedly explained, going through the kid's most striking features. 

"Yeah, I know who he is. And he already bought Polka Party last week". 

"I'm sorry?" he turned to you, a big confused frown on his face. 

"Polka Party," you repeated slowly, even though he still didn't understand what you said, "you know… his latest record? That's what you're looking for, right? Henderson already bought it."

"Shit," Eddie lamented, wincing slightly. "That's what I was going to buy him". 

"That's too bad. Maybe you should try Tiny Tim, then", you suggested and saw that Eddie contemplated the idea, before rejecting it vehemently. "Well, then I have something that he might like". 

"Yeah? And what is it?" he asked as he let go of the records, turning his body around completely to face you. 

"It's called Licensed to Ill by the Beastie Boys. It just came in, so I highly doubt that he'd have it already", you explained as you guided Eddie to the newest releases shelves. "It has everything a teenage boy would like, I guess. Beer, girls, idiotic screaming…"

"Seems cool enough. What are they? A rock band?"

"They're rappers", you said and that didn't ring any bells for the metalhead. "Oh my God, don't you watch MTV at all?" 

"Only the Heavy Metal Half-Hour. Don't really like any of the VJs", he shrugged. "Why do you sound so surprised? I mean, Duran Duran has been playing and I don't see you complaining. Aren't they out of fashion already?"

"Well, Marie's the one picking the music today, so if I say something I'd probably get fired", you put your hands up, showing that you are defenseless. "But don't you think you're a bit too close-minded?"

"Because I don't know the Beast Boys?"

"Beastie Boys", you correct him as you hand him the record. A jet is crashing into the side of a mountain on the cover, which definitely caught his attention. As he analyzed the album, you smiled lightly, finding the way his brown eyes scanned the cover to be very cute. "But it's like you live in your own little metal world… doesn't it get boring sometimes?"

"With Ozzy Osbourne? Never." he offered you a sly smile as his eyes shoot up to look at your face. 

"You know, some people wouldn't even consider Ozzy to be metal," you teased him slightly and he loudly gasps, absolutely offended by your affirmation. 

"Don't you ever say that again!"

"Oh, but I will! And I can even argue that you, Edward Munson, aren't metal at all." 

"And why is that?" he asked, genuinely curious. "Because you just said that I am a close-minded metalhead, sweetheart". 

"You know exactly what I mean! C'mon, half of the bands you like are hard rock, and I am including Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath on that list".

"Sure, Vlady." he rolls his eyes at you, walking to the nearest listening booth, with you on his tail. Eddie was already taking the vinyl out of its sleeve before asking you, "Any suggestions?"

"Rhymin' and Stealin', or No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn. They're the most metal of them". 

"Nah, no metal. 'Cause now that I am a fully open-minded person, thanks to you, I think I'll go with…" he taunted you for your fruitless try to start one of your bickerings.  "Hold It Now, Hit It". 

"Great pick", you encouraged him, even though you knew he wasn't going to like it. 

CRAZY TRAIN. i'm living with something that just ain't fair.

"Haven't you had enough of following me around, weirdo?"

"Nope. In fact, I would like to follow you some more", he answered as he keeps trailing behind you, putting up Madonna's True Blue cardboard cut-out next to the album shelves. "Killer jeans, by the way". 

"Gross," even though you tried to seem annoyed by his statement, the smile on your face betrayed you. Thank God he couldn't see it. "But I'm afraid you won't have much time to appreciate it, since I'll be leaving in… five minutes".

You said after checking your wrist clock, then helping him to stabilize the life-size Madonna on the floor. Then, you took a few steps back to appreciate the result of your teamwork.

"What? I thought you worked until five!" he exclaimed as he let go of the cardboard. The abrupt motion almost took it down, but you swiftly put it back to its original place. "Sorry".

"Stalker much?" you playfully ask, making his cheeks blush lightly. When you were finally done with the Madonna cardboard, you walked to the store's counter, leaning down to get your backpack. As you started to organize your things, you explained, "I worked overtime yesterday, so Marie is covering for me today". 

You felt his gaze follow you intensely, watching how your hands moved as you grabbed your own cassettes, your coat, and a few fanzines and stuffed them back into your bag. To be quite frank, you were actually enjoying having his attention on you, seeing the things you liked – maybe he could get to know a bit more about you by seeing your Echo and The Bunnymen tape. 

"Do you- um…" when he sees you sling your backpack on one of your shoulders, he begins to muster up the courage to ask, but as he senses your eyes on him, his voice falters a bit, "do you want a ride?"

"Is your van clean?" you asked as you start to walk towards the exit, Eddie following you closely. "I don't really feel like sitting on another pack of Doritos today".

"Fuck off", it's hard to miss the humor in his voice, "And I did. It's as good as new". 

"Alright, then. Lead the way", you say as you open the store's door. Now, you were the one following him, trying to keep up with his long, quick steps. You almost miss the van, only stopping because of Eddie's sudden stop. "Why is it blue?" 

"I painted it. Got tired of red". 

"Nice. Why don't you paint it black next time? You know, to fit your aesthetic". 

"Noted," he acknowledges your suggestion, walking up to the passenger door and opening it for you. "M'lady". 

"Thank you, good lord." you graciously answer, getting inside the (thankfully clean) van. It only takes Eddie a couple of moments to sit in the driver's seat, and he founds you curiously eyeing the whole vehicle. 

"Found any Doritos yet?"

"No, but I found this" you pick up a little zip bag that was carelessly laid on the van's floor, next to your feet. "Do you just leave this stuff all over the place? You should be more careful, you know? I heard Hopper is after your ass". 

"Jesus H. Christ!" his eyes were wide as pies as he sees the marijuana bag you held, taking it in a rush. He almost drops it as he hurriedly stuffs it in his jacket pocket. "How d'you know that?"

"It's impossible not to. Everyone loves to talk about the resident freak's latest ​​shenanigans." you smile playfully at him again, finding out that he was already staring at you, with an amused look on his face. "And when you work at a place that the whole town visits, you end up knowing lots of stuff".

"Yeah? Like what?" he starts the van, maneuvering out of its parking spot. 

"Well…" you think about it for a while, trying to remember the hottest piece of gossip you know. "Heather Maxwell was almost arrested for, one, driving while drunk and two, for having sex with Stuart Mills on her parents' car at the side of the road. Hopper was less than pleased". 

"Stuart? As in-"

"Her best friend's boyfriend, yes!" you excitedly interrupt him, and he audibly gasps as he hears the missing piece of information. 

"I always knew Heather was up to no good," Eddie commented. "I mean, wasn't she the one who spiked our middle school punch without telling anyone?"

"Yeah," you laughed, "thank God Mrs. O'Donnell confiscated it."

"Oh, but it tasted so good!" 

"You drank it?" you ask and watch him enthusiastically nod, and your eyes widen slightly, "That explains why you were dancing to the Bay City Rollers, then".

"That wasn't because I was drunk! I actually really like them".

"Shut up!"

"I'm serious!" he confirms, laughing. You lean towards him as he makes an accentuated curve, brushing shoulders lightly. "You know, bye, bye, baby, baby goodbye!" 

You laugh harder as he sings the band's song completely out of tune, and the resounding sound of your laughter quickly infected him and you both entered a long fit of giggles. After it died down, though, it wasn't as awkward as you thought it would be; comfortably sharing the silence until you motioned to the radio, and picking up on that, Eddie asked, "d'you wanna turn on the radio? I have no idea of which tape is in, though". 

"It'll be a surprise, then. I bet it's Motorhead".

"And I bet it's Dio".

"Let's see!" you pressed the on button and the beginnings of Ozzy Osbourne's Crazy Train filled up the whole van. Eddie's sound system always impressed you with how powerful the music reverberated through the small space. "Fuck, not even close".

"Yeah, but it's still great!" he observed, looking at you quickly, "Crazy, but that's how it goes". 

"Millions of people living as foes," you started to sing along with him, earning another glance from him, only a surprised one this time. That was enough for you to turn the music louder. 

"You know this one?"

"Hell yeah, dude! It's, like, one of his only good songs".

"No, it's not!"

"It's not a good song, you mean?" you tried to trick him, but of course, he wouldn't fall for it.

"It's one of his greatest, Y/N!" he observes, thumbs tapping against the steering wheel accompanying the beat of the song. "You know, for someone who works at a music store, you should really start appreciating Ozzy more."

"Sure, Munson." you rolled his eyes. "I've listened to preachers".

"I've listened to fools", he stepped even harder on the gas, making the van speed along the street, making dust and leaves go up in the air, trailing along. Everything about this moment made you smile; from the wind that blew right at your face to the sounds Eddie made to emulate the song's guitar.

"I've watched all the dropouts who make their own rules", you pretended to hold a microphone, and then offered it to him, letting him sing the next line into your hand. And he did it with the biggest and brightest smile on his face, dimples deepening as he mouthed the words. He looked so pretty like this, all smiles, doe eyes, and hair flowing wildly. 

To the people who watched the van speed through Hawkins' streets, you seemed like two maniacs. The laughter, screams, and out-of-tune-singing were enough for everyone to look at you as the freaks they considered you to be, not that you cared for that right now, especially when you're by Eddie's side. 

You cried out loud as you spotted your house at the end of the street. 

"Oh no! Can you go around the block? Just until the song ends, please?" you ask him, pleading almost. You were having too much fun to be interrupted now. 

"If I could, I'd drive around the whole state for you, sweetheart. But is the highway enough for you?" he asked, slowing the van down to look at you. As you nod at him, in an almost desperate manner, he laughs loudly. "Rewind the song, then!" 

Crazy, but that's how it goes…

PERFECT GIRL. i think i'm falling, i think i'm falling in…

"Hey, Y/N! Your freak is here!" Marie announces as the plops her head inside the employee's room, which made you roll your eyes in a way that you thought they wouldn't go back to their place. Your body didn't care too much about Marie's unnecessary nickname, since it was too preoccupied with reacting to the fact that Eddie was here. Your palms were suddenly sweaty and butterflies were all over the place; you doubted you could even take two steps before starting to smile like a maniac. 

"Don't call him that," you scolded her as you passed by, going directly to the store's counter. Your eyes scanned the place quickly, not taking long to spot the untamed mane of the one and only Eddie Munson, who was going through the alternative section – something that has become surprisingly normal these past few weeks. "Eds!" 

"Hey, Vlady!" he cheerily greeted you, skipping his way to the counter. "Nice earrings. Are those bats?"

"Yeah. Made them myself". 

"Could you make one for me, maybe?" Eddie put his hair behind his right ear, showing you the small silver hoop he usually wore. "I feel like it's time for a change".

"Sure thing", you offered him a sweet smile and made a (very highlighted, sparkly, shiny) mental note to make the best earring you could ever create for him. "Had fun at the alternative section?"

"Yup! In fact, I was meaning to ask you: have you listened to the new The Cure album yet?"

"No, but my friends said they liked it, so I'm excited".

"You should be. It's actually great".

"What!? You've already listened to it?" 

"Fuck yeah", he replied like it was obvious, and continued, with a taunting smile, "Now who's the one that isn't up with the news?"

"Hey! I just didn't have the time, ok? College is kicking my butt." you explained while you gathered the cassettes that were laid out on the counter. As soon as your hand touched the first one, you saw Eddie's pale hand also collecting a few – always so eager to help. "It was just a surprise, you know? You got to hear my favorite band's new album before me". 

"I'm just keeping up with the times, sweetheart. Oh, how'd you say it?" he took a while to remember the exact term you had used a while back, "Yeah, I'm opening up my horizons". 

"You're such a weirdo", you rolled your eyes before handing him a Frank Sinatra tape, a identical copy to the ones he was organizing. 

"Thanks" he muttered, "Like the gloves, by the way. Very metal… or should I say, totally goth?"

"Shut up" you giggled and moved out of the counter, on your way to put the tapes in their usual place. You heard Eddie's boots thumping loudly against the floor, meaning that he was following you. 

"You know, I came here to give you something".

"What?" you suddenly turn around, in surprise, and drops a few tapes when you crash right into his chest. And before you can lean down to catch them, he has already collected all of them and is standing up slowly, in a way that makes you hold your breath; his hair actually brushes against the hem of your skirt, lifting it up slightly, and you're pretty sure you felt his knuckles graze lightly against your knee. And then, he's standing close… dangerously close. You can actually feel his warm breath against your face, and it gets even worse when small puffs of air hit you as he talks… and you don't pay any attention to a word he says. "I-I'm sorry?"

"I said it's a gift," even though you were pretty sure Eddie would find the whole situation amusing and would stare at you with that usual sly smile of his, he is not. And seems to be just as affected as you are. "You know, a thing that one person giver to another as a token of their appreciation?" 

"I know what a gift is, dumbass. I just don't understand why you would give me something". 

"I just explained it to you, Dracula. A token of my appreciation." he smiles softly at you, his dimples showing. You did your best to actually organize the cassettes instead of just throwing them everywhere, but that didn't matter right now, not when Eddie was searching his pockets looking for something; your gift. Then, he handed you a small tape, very similar to the ones you were just holding. "It has one of The Cure's new songs in it… it really reminded me of you. So it would be nice if you listened to it." 

"Sure", you couldn't fight the big smile that appeared on your face, feeling your face heat up as your fingertips brushed against his hand as you took the cassette. "I'll listen to it today, and then I'll call you and tell you what I think, yeah?"

"Perfect". 

+++

As soon as you stepped foot in your bedroom, you didn't wait for another minute before plopping the tape into your boombox and anxiously fast-forwarding it until you stumbled upon Robert Smith's sped-up voice. You felt bad for not paying attention to the little details Eddie put into it, like the adhesive tape he glued and the name of the mixtape, but you just couldn't wait – couldn't even waste time listening to the other tracks, really, too set upon hearing the new song. Acting like that, it may seem that you've never listened to a mixtape made for you before, but it was quite the contrary: your friends make you tapes all the time, but this time it was different. This was Eddie's tape. And that was reason enough to keep you giggling like a little schoolgirl, almost kicking your feet in the air in your state of giddiness. Laying down on your bed, you hugged one of your pillows bringing it to your chin, a perfect tool to use to muffle your lovesick laughter as you finally heard the little unknown do-do-do's. 

The fuzziness you felt in your whole body distracted you from actually paying attention to the music, because you were too busy still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Eddie Munson – The Eddie Munson – listened to a whole The Cure album for you; heard this specific song and thought of you; and spent time making this mixtape for you. All because of you, his little Vlad. You had to take a few breaths to bring your mind back to the song, or else you'd spend the whole night rewinding the poor tape. 

You held your breath as Robert Smith sang you're such a strange girl, I'd like to turn you upside-down, and your eyebrows involuntarily shot up. A familiar heat crept up your neck and took hold of your cheeks while a smile kept dancing on your lips. Once again, your favorite pillow came into action, muffling a fit of giggles and hiding your flushed cheeks from the cold air of your bedroom. 

It was unnecessary to wait too long for your next hysterics to come through because as soon as you heard you're such a strange girl, the way you look like you do.

You're such a strange girl, I want to be with you. 

You were absolutely gone, laughing excitedly as your eyes widened; your own body not knowing whether to feel extremely lovesick or surprised. But you couldn't just sit around and wait for it to decide, and almost unconsciously, you were reaching for the phone and dialing the number you had already memorized. 

"You reached the Munsons! It's Eddie".

"Hi." that's all you could say before giggling again.

"Hey, Vlady. I take it that you've already listened to the tape?" 

"'m still listening".

"Cool," he commented, starting to become a bit uneasy. "A-and what did you think?"

"Well, I think that Robert Smith is a genius." you paused a bit, just for the dramatics, and heard Eddie's heavy breath on the other side of the line. "And that you and I should go on a date sometime". 

"Y-yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking", you could practically hear his smile and that made you laugh once more. "Benny's Burger?"

"Perfect. You're free on Friday?"

"For you? Always". 

"Great. I'll see you at seven then." 

"It's a date".

"It's a date", you confirmed, biting your lower lip, trying to keep your smile from getting any wider. 

I think I'm falling… I think I'm falling in… I think I'm falling in love with you. 

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED!

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#AHHH #oh my GOD #this is perfect #i am so obsessed #katherine's fic recs. ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

she’s a 10 but she rots in her room all day listening to music and making up scenarios in her head

#uh #haha #hahaha.... #..............its me #katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

WAHHHH THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS (or 101 followers I suppose lol) IM SO APPRECIATIVE OF YOU GUYS !!!!

luv all of you so so much thank you for supporting my work 💖💖

#katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

🥺🥺🥺 thank you for the mention love omg

๋ 𓂋 stranger things . ˚◞

꒰ ⌕ ꒱ listed are my fav fics! ✧ ੭ pls support these writers !

miso says ! mostly eddie and steve because they plague my mind day and night.

this list will be updated when i discover for fics i come to love :)))

๋ 𓂋 eddie m . ˚◞

﹙ 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ﹚

author: @theoreticslut synopsis: after years of friendship, eddie finally goes to a party to be with you, but your fuzzy mind can’t filter any of your thoughts. warning(s): slightly angsty, use of drugs and alcohol, pet names (princess, darling, honey), mentions of getting sick, mentions of hangovers, implied slight 'nudity'

﹙ 𝚒.𝚘.𝚞 ﹚

author: @loveronlineee synopsis: Eddie spots Y/N at a house party and decides to say hi. This results in a night way more fun than he planned it out to be warning(s): drinking, drugs, mentions of sex miso notes ! i absolutely adore their writing i recommend checking out their masterlist !!

﹙ 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 ﹚

author: @kaylawritesfics synopsis: while sleeping over at Eddie's house, he lends you his most prized possession warning(s): swearing, slight sexual tension, mentions of drugs

﹙ 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 ?! ﹚

author: @k4g3hika synopsis: when eddie munson doesn't find the need to tell the dungeons and dragons club members about his new girlfriend. soimagine dustin's surprise when he visits eddie's trailer and sees it looking impeccably clean.

﹙ 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 ﹚

author: @skyebounded synopsis: You left some tapes for Eddie to have after you're gone, and now he is finally listening to them. warning(s): smut, angst, fluff. blood, sweat, and tears miso notes ! this hurt like no other T_T

﹙ 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 ﹚

author: @sapphireplums synopsis: when eddie starts to overthink that you'releaving him, his clinginess gets the best of him, however, thisnewfound feeling of always being with you, leads to soemthing even better. warning(s): light angst, super incredibly fluffy, clingy eddie,mentions of nudity, make out session.

﹙ 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 ﹚

author: @grrlsmakegraves synopsis: when your best friend Eddie doesn't show up to drive you home from school, you assume that he's just gone to impromptu Hellfire Club meeting. but little do you know, his reasons for being late are so much worse warning(s): angst with a fluffy ending, mentions of injuries and blood, bullying

﹙ 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 ﹚

author: @mad-elia synopsis: readers love language is physical touch? they're always clinging to Eddie's arms, sitting on his lap and snuggling into him, holding hands, etc. one day someone says something to reader about how they are probably annoying to eddie and their way too clingy so reader tries to stop? warning(s): hurt/comfort miso notes ! these kind of concepts are my weakness

﹙ 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 ﹚

author: @hauntlikeaghost0 synopsis: dustin henderson refuses to believe eddie "the freak' munson has a girlfriend. warning(s): fluff. eddie's a lil bit insecure. probably swearing.

﹙ 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜 ﹚

author: @devilfic synopsis: head canon of eddie’s love languages

﹙ 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 ﹚

author: @eddie-van-munson synopsis: Eddie and the Reader are married and none of the Hellfire boys realized it.. warning(s): Fluff, Cursing, Sexual Refrences, a Little bit of making out

﹙ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 ﹚

author: @undersilverlake synopsis: the hellfire club hates her and she over heard because she was dropping something off for him and then starts to distance herself. miso notes ! again these kind of concepts melt my heart

﹙ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 ﹚

author: @farfromharry synopsis: Who in their right mind would want to take time from their own prom to dance with Eddie the freak' Munson? Answer: you. He was alone on the bleachers with the cutest pouty face and you couldn't stand to see him like that, though he knew it was probably out of pity anyway. But little did he know you had had a budding crush on him since the second time he repeated his senior year. Now you were both seniors (again) and this might be your last chance to tell him.

๋ 𓂋 steve h . ˚◞

﹙ 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 ﹚

author: @iliveiloveiwrite synopsis: they go to a party together but y/n gets really drunk and steve starts to get nervous because of what happened with nancy but then she just starts telling him how much she loves her and he feels better? it would be so cute warning(s): alcohol, underage drinking (American laws), drunk reader, drunkenness, fluff, happy, cute. miso notes ! this is so cute it makes me want to cry.

﹙ 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 ﹚

author: @refiwrites synopsis: steve was still in love with nancy, it was clear as day. warning(s): VOL 2 SPOILERS! swearing, very much angst, mentions of knives, guns xtra: potential part two.

﹙ 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 ﹚

author: @lurkymurker synopsis: so while steve does that to dustin, the reader does it to max (not related, really just a sister figure). so when they arrive and the kids see them, they're all like telling the two of you to go on a date while you wait for the event to finish because they're about to get sick of the pining and longing glances steve throws at the reader so they do :D warning(s): cursing + so much fluff I’m not joking

﹙ 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ﹚

author: @2fabul0us4 synopsis: your boyfriend tries to stay strong for the people around him, but sometimes it's too much, and then he just needs you. warning(s): talks of violence, torture, takes place between season 3 & 4. miso notes ! literal tears in my eyes.

﹙ 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚗 ﹚

author: @maroonmusings warning(s): season four spoilers, fluff, fear of water/ drowning, mention of blood, slight love triangle with eddie be i can't help myself, gaslighting you all into thinking theWheeler's have a front porch, deviation from canon towards the end

﹙ 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 ﹚

author: @vxntagedior synopsis: after one night of babysitting, your baby sister has steve wrapped around her finger warning(s): absolute fluff, steve is THE babysitter, none of the bad things happened in hawkins so the timeline is kind of botched miso notes ! steve interacting with an actual child !?! i can rest in peace now

﹙ 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 ? ﹚

author: @luveline synopsis: steve finds out that falling in love can be really, really easy. you find out what it's like when somebody wants to take care of you warning(s): fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, getting together, dustins next-door neighbour!reader, sick fic, hurt/comfort, reader is implied to weigh more than nancy, you're upset one time and steve goes overboard, small s4 spoilers no major plot details, post s3 pre s4. feat. the lunch club, karaoke, rollerblading, sunbathing miso notes ! the feelings i felt while reading this were indescribable, it’s that good.

﹙ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚍 ﹚

author: @hairrington synopsis: When you dive into the terrifying depths of Lovers Lake, you expect to feel the usual when it comes to your recently dangerous adventures: worry, regret, and a big dose of fear. But when you notice the man you're falling for getting smitten with his ex, you realize even envy can be felt in the Upside Down.

๋ 𓂋 robin b . ˚◞

﹙ 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 ﹚

author: @twistnet synopsis: watching robin get ready for a date that wasn't with you, hurt a lot more than you could have ever expected warning(s): female!reader, angst [ feelings of unrequited loved + crying ], general fluff [ hurt//comfort, best friends to lovers + kisses ] + mature language

﹙ 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘 ﹚

author: @burgundybmw synopsis: There's this girl that comes in once a week to rent Fast Times at Ridgemont High. She always peruses the shelves, sometimes grabbing other films, but Fast Times is always in the stack. warning(s): Brief mention of period typical homophobia (not directed at Robin, this is very fluffy!)

﹙ 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 ﹚

author: @delfiore synopsis: summer, 1986. robin experiences an epic love when you come to stay at your aunt's place in hawkins for the summer. warning(s): mild violence, mentions of drugs, bullying, homophobia (ik ik big yawn but i promise it's sO insignificant)

๋ 𓂋 billy h. ˚◞

﹙ 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 ﹚

author: @billyhargrove-s synopsis: you and Billy have been dating for 6 months, only your classmates think you hate each other. warning(s): mentions of shitty parents, alcoholism, domestic violence (reader and Billy's home life's are pretty similar), school fights, minor angst? fluffy ending

﹙ 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 ﹚

author: @billyhargrove-s synopsis: Billy seeing his s/o and (step)sister getting along? Maybe they are dancing together? warning(s): fluffy, mentions of Neil,

﹙ 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 ﹚

author: @alloftheimagines synopsis: Billy is sleeping on YIn. Reader is soft running he hand's through his hair while reading a book. He still a little groggy when he wakes up a little bit and sees YIn's face and he says you're so gorgeous. I'm going to keep you and call you my wife warning(s): brief mentions of domestic abuse, bruises, and sex (not on page!), but mostly fluff and a touch of angst

﹙ 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 ﹚

author: @hauntlikeaghost0 synopsis: domestic billy with baking and dancing. what more could you want? warning(s): a lil bit suggestive, swearing, mentions of food

if links are wonky or do not work at all please let me know !

#katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

OMG OMG THANK U FOR THE MENTION !!! 💖💖

Author Masterlist Part 2

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Below is a a list of all the authors we have currently reblogged or are in our queue 🥰 make sure to check them all out and give them some love and a follow!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

@taiyothewriter

@orwocolor

@creme-bruhlee

@manicformunson

@new2fivesauce

@thefreakymunson

@eddiemunsonbrxinrot

@iguessweallcrazyithinktho

@dingusfreakhxrrington

@hellfirebabes

@marvelsswansong

@skinandruins

@vngeqnce

@spiderrrling

@theoreticslut

@kaylawritesfics

@grrlsmakegraves

@hauntlikeaghost0

@undersilverlake

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A big thank you to all these authors for their amazing work and for giving us all this continued Eddie content 🥰

#this is so sweet im cry #katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

there's no shame (in running) - 1/3

pairing: eddie munson x reader

warnings: descriptive violence, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn

spoilers for season four, incl. vol 2. loosely follows canon.

word count: 6806

description: you'd missed him. eddie munson. best friend for one summer and one summer only. you were fairly certain you'd never talk to him again until he shows up at your place of work and tells you something truly strange.

note: wow an actual post after being absent for a year and a half, what can i say? i actually refuse to acknowledge what very well may be poor writing or set up for season 5. i'm grieving, so i had to write. missed you guys.

Summer, 1978

Hawkins, Indiana. There wasn’t much to it. Not from what you’d seen from the back of your parent’s Oldsmobile. From the beginning of town to your new home was only a few minutes.  You’d passed one large building, City Hall. Local grocer, a hardware store, few schools. 

“Boring.” You muttered. The window fogged with your breath as you leaned your head against the glass. The car rattled along with the hitched camper your parents stuffed to the gills with all of your belongings. 

“You need to be a little more optimistic pumpkin.” Your Dad certainly was an optimist. Cheerful to a fault even. It was his new job that had brought you here in the first place. A promotion he said. Military man. Very serious to others, and in some ways you. The standard in which you were to keep your room. Your personal hygiene. All of it was very important. But he was a softie. Wrapped around your finger, your Mom would bemoan often. “You get to reinvent yourself here,” He took a small turn, “Make new friends, practice some new hobbies, maybe join a club.” 

Yeah, maybe. 

But you already missed your friends from New York. Allen and Grace. You had cried on your front lawn, in a group hug, promising to call. Promising to write. 

Your Parents were “trying it out.” Being back together. A temporary separation from your Mother being aggravated with your Dad switching bases every few months. But now that he’s retired from the military, it’s different. He’s home more. They seem happy. 

You hoped it would work this time. 

The new house was a lot different than your apartment before. That caused a little excitement. 

“Here we are.” Your Mom shifted in her seat, the drive was long, uncomfortable. Your Dad pushed, 

“We’ve got to make good time.” But your Mom figured he had just wanted a few days of relaxing before he started work, so you didn’t really stop anywhere. Your legs were stiff. Not even sure if you could move them anymore. 

The car rocked up beside the house and shuddered to a stop as the ignition was killed. 

It was something called a rancher. Three bedrooms, enough space for you, your parents, and what your Dad was most excited about, a home office. The kitchen had ‘bar seating’ and had a formal dining room, something your Mother had been very adamant about. Not that you thought it mattered. Jogging around your Father opened your door and your Mother’s door at the same time. 

“Alright ladies, go get settled,” A kiss to your forehead as you exited the car, “I’ll grab what’s in the trunk.” 

Your Mom was a beautiful woman. You’d thought so anyway, even if she didn’t. You’d seen how she looked at herself in the mirror, tugging at the skin around her eyes, turning to the side and sucking in her stomach. She was not as optimistic as your Dad. She watched a lot of news. It seemed to always be on. Whether it was on the radio or on tv. 

“No better than the tabloids,” Your Father would rant. The ‘turn that shit off’ was silent...sometimes.

She was worried. A lot. About the course of the country. About what was going on in the neighborhood. About her weight. 

About yours. 

The fridge was constantly full of whatever new diet food was out, and any fad diet she could get her hands on she would constantly try. A little jab here, a little nag there, “Honey I really don’t think you should have another snack today.”

“Sweetie, I really think you need to make a better choice.”

“Love, I really think you can wait until dinner.” 

Always. 

But Dad was sneaky. Before. When he would visit or have you for the week you’d get whatever you wanted. If you wanted to eat hot dogs in central park. He was on it. You wanted ice cream for breakfast. Anything you want. Whatever to make you happy. 

“She’s a kid.” One of the big arguments, “It doesn’t matter.”

The shag carpet shifts under your feet as you enter your new home for the first time. 

“A little musty,” Your Mother’s nose scrunches.

“Nothing we can’t fix with a little elbow grease.” A grin on your Dad’s face as he sets the first box down in the living room. Your Mom wasn’t impressed. 

They’d put you in a free summer program. 

“Something to keep you busy,” Your Mom said. 

“So you can make new friends.” Your Dad said. 

Both were kind of the truth. 

It was like summer camp. But in the gymnasium of Hawkins Middle School. They had activities out in the yard as well as in the gym depending on what you felt like doing. Craft tables, card games, painting, or you could swing outside and play soccer, football, volleyball. Problem with those is you’d need to find friends to play with. Or you’d need to join an existing friend group to play. And that was way too much pressure. 

So you were crafting. 

A girl with braces and hair larger than you’d ever seen was teaching you how to weave on a plastic loom the first time you’d seen him. 

He was shy. From what you could see. Buzz cut, big eyes. Too big for his face. A full mouth. He was painting something on the table. You couldn’t see what it was from your vantage point. But there was no one around him. You swallowed harshly, thinking about what your Dad had mentioned at dropoff. 

“I know it’s difficult.” He’d knelt before you. Car idling beside you, “I don’t expect you to be a social butterfly and come home having made a gaggle of friends and being super popular.” His hands were a comfort, rubbing your shoulders, “But try this.” A little miniature from his pocket. Your favorite. A little goblin you’d hand painted with him. For his game. 

Dungeons and Dragons. 

That’s what he told you it was called. A game he and his friends played. It was a game, he said, “Where you go on a grand adventure, save the world, and defeat the forces of evil.” You’d helped him plenty of times. Creating stories. 

“What if you had a monster with eight arms and one eye?” You’d offer. The grin he’d have, helping you sculpt it out of clay. He said it was good to bond over shared hobbies. Not just for parents and kids, but hobbies were how you made friends. “It’s always good to have something you like to do in common.”

“Try this,” The little goblin. Two oversized eyes, pot belly, and grin with yellowed teeth. “Keep Gargle in your pocket, and when you get nervous, hold it really tight and think of me. And when I get nervous on my first day of work,” Your little monster, one of the monsters you’d created for him, “I’ll hold Magna real tight and think of you.” 

The goblin felt rough in your pocket as you gripped it in your fist. Standing before the boy with the buzz cut. He was painting a box. Something small with a latch. 

“Hi.” Your voice shook. His eyes were bigger up close. His tongue reached out and licked his lips.

“Hi.” Just one friend. That’s all Dad wanted. Just one. 

“I’m Y/N.” His eyes looked down at the box, fiddling with it. The black paint is on his fingers now. Eyes back on you he speaks low. 

“I’m Eddie.” It comes out as a croak. It was kind of instant after that.

Your Dad was so proud. 

And Eddie became a constant at your home. Dinners, sleepovers (much to your Mother’s chagrin), riding bikes through Hawkins. You’d found out he lived with his uncle. Both parents are gone. 

“My Dad’s in jail.” He admitted. But didn’t tell you why. Just that he never wanted to see him again. Eddie was sweet. He was shy. And he did whatever you’d asked him to. 

He told you of his friends, his band Corroded Coffin they’d decided on. 

“I play guitar, obviously.” 

“Why is it obvious?”

“Oh well…” He thought it was the coolest instrument to play, that’s why it was obvious. With complete candor it was a relief. A relief to have met Eddie on the first day of your term at camp. You’d spent the whole summer believing he was the only friend you needed. And you really did everything together. 

From the minute you’d stepped foot into Hawkins Middle you’d be attached at the hip. If you wanted to paint, he’d paint, if you wanted to play cards, he’d play cards. And he’d agreed to making friendship bracelets without question. The braided string tightly wound around each of your wrists. 

“Look.” In your basement. The table was littered with miniatures, tiny goblins, ghouls, monsters you helped create. The light in his eyes. Bright as your Dad ran a mini campaign for the two of you. He’d gifted a copy of the guide and a set of dice to Eddie for his birthday that year. 

“Something to get you started.” The grin on your Father’s face was immense. 

It was the last good summer. You think. The last one. In a long time. 

The last time you felt like a kid. Truly. 

The summer before you lost a key part of yourself. 

It was the summer before your Dad died. 

When your Dad died, everything ended. Everything. 

When school started Eddie tried to include you in his friend group. He did. But they didn’t seem very receptive. As most 12 year old boys wouldn’t be interested in a girl joining the group. But Eddie insisted. Corroded coffin wasn’t having it. And neither was anyone else. 

Your Mom put you in cheer. Maybe that was the turning point. 

You didn’t know whose fault it was. Yours or Eddie’s. But you stopped talking. 

He didn’t even look at you. 

So you didn’t look at him. 

At first. 

You were hurt. Of course you were. You’d written notes. Countless notes from simple ‘How are you?’, ‘I miss you’, to ‘Why are you ignoring me?’.... ‘What did I do?.’

You never delivered them. They sat, much with everything else you had from your time with Eddie, in a black box with a small gold latch, collecting dust. The same box he’d been painting the first day you met. A gift. He’d handed it to you, blushing. Shy. A little figurine your Dad helped him craft inside, along with a drawing he’d done of your half elf ranger. A few rocks he thought you’d think were cool. And a few of his guitar picks. 

He grew more wild. The shy boy you once knew became more outlandish. He started a Dungeons & Dragons club at school. Yelled at jocks. Roughhoused in the halls.

You’d see him from time to time. 

Walking by you in the hall, your eyes would lock. Like a game of chicken seeing who would look away first. 

The friendship bracelets were gone. 

He’d replaced his with rings. Chains on his jeans. Torn jean jackets and patch jobs. His once rich brown hair box dyed a shaggy black.

“Good thing you stopped hanging around that boy.” Your Mom would spit. “Never liked him.” 

Eddie “the Freak” Munson.

A new nickname he wore proudly. Flipping off both staff and students at school. 

You knew he knew, when your Dad passed away. There was a period of time where he’d almost seem choked every time he saw you. And you were clearly not doing well. Your ass was a permanent fixture in the guidance counselor's office. Three days a week sometimes, not by choice. 

“You can talk to me, you know?” Is what she’d say, but you didn’t feel like talking. You hadn’t talked to anyone in a while. You’d see Eddie in the hall and refuse to meet his eyes. The brush of his jacket as you squeeze past. Maybe a brush of a finger. By accident only. A few weeks had gone by before he seemingly had the courage. After school. 

“Hey.” A cleared throat. His voice had gotten deeper but it was still cracking. You looked back at him and shut your locker, lifting your backpack onto your shoulder. 

“Hi.” His eyes seemed glassy, lips bitten red. His tongue darts out to wet them before speaking again. He’s rocking on his heels a bit. Nervous. 

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry… About your old man.” You felt your throat constrict. Like it did when anyone brought him up. You sniff and turn away. 

“It’s fine.” You wanted to leave. You had to catch the bus. There was a small huff behind you and he reached and grasped your arm. 

“Y/N, it’s not fine. I just–”

“Please let me go.” You turn to him with watery eyes. You needed to get out of there. You didn’t know you’d been waiting for him to come talk to you this whole time and now that it’s happening the emotions were overwhelming. His hand slowly releases. And he just lets you leave. 

You wish he hadn’t. Maybe if he had insisted you would have invited him over like before. He could stay with you while you cried. He could maybe help you with all of Dad’s stuff in the basement collecting dust. Untouched from his final campaign. 

Work Related Accident.

That’s what they told you. At Hawkins Lab. You didn’t know what that meant. Did he fall from somewhere high? Was it painful? Did he suffer? No details. It’s a government facility after all. And no matter what questions your Mom had asked, they were quickly hushed with a sum of money she wouldn’t disclose the sum of. 

With lack of income now your Mom was forced to join the workforce. She got a job at The Hideout, a local dive. Asleep when you were getting ready for school, and already gone when you got home. You’d spend most of your nights eating microwaved bagel bites in front of the tv. Scribbling out your homework and falling asleep by nine. 

And it would be years before you’d talk to Eddie again. 

Spring, 1986

The diner was quiet tonight. Somewhat of an annoyance, but also somewhat of a relief. No rowdy kids throwing french fries across the table. No spilled sodas. Milkshakes spewed out of their noses. It was just you and a trucker stopping in for something to eat before hitting the road once more. The news ambled on in the background. Quiet. 

One more hour until you could close it up for good. 

“Pour me one more cup, sweetheart.” Low and grumbly, “Then you can close me out.” The tink of the trucker’s fork against the now empty plate of pie. A glare of headlights hit the front of the diner and your heart sank, it was too late to want to do anything now. You looked behind you at the line cook. John. He’d already begun cleaning up. You topped the trucker’s coffee as the bell rang on the front door. And your heart stopped. 

“Eddie?” He was panicking. Wild eyed. You could see a sheen on his face. Clammy and pale. His knuckles gripped white on the counter. 

“Y/N.” His eyes drifted to the trucker who was now staring at him. He swallowed. Hard. “I need you–your help.” It was startling. And you thought you should be angry. You hadn’t spoken in almost six years. You didn’t even know that he knew you worked here. And now he needs your help? But the panic. The sweat. It gave you a chill. It made your stomach turn. Something was wrong. 

The trucker’s footsteps retreated on the gravel as you locked the door, flipping the open sign to closed. You noticed Eddie’s van, parked haphazardly by the dumpster, almost out of view entirely. You’d sat him in a booth, his hands gripping a cup of coffee he hasn’t taken a sip of. He’d closed the blinds around him. 

“I’m heading out.” A call from the back. 

“See you tomorrow John.” And the two of you were alone. It was then you saw how badly Eddie was shaking. Trembling. As you slipped into the booth he jumped, startled. Eyes drifting slowly from his hands up towards your face. His rings tapped against the mug. “Eddie–”

“I didn’t do it.” Quick, startling, “You have to believe me.” His hand shot out and gripped yours. He felt as clammy as he looked. “I didn’t–” He was crying. 

“Eddie,” You place your hand over his, leaning in. “I need you to calm down and tell me what happened.” His bottom lip trembled. 

“Chrissy…” Eyes rolling up to look at the ceiling. 

“Cunningham?” The cheerleader. She was a sophomore when you graduated. When Eddie was supposed to graduate the first time. You knew her. Vaguely. You had nothing against her. Not really. A sharp pain in your chest whenever you thought about her though. 

The talent show, 1980. 

You hadn’t planned on going. Not at first. But you’d seen Eddie sign Corroded Coffin up to play and you couldn’t help it. You’d wanted to see him play on stage before, never had the chance. You had felt so proud of him. It was the first time they’d performed for an audience. This was pre-Hideout days. Before they started performing regularly at your Mom’s job. 

You’d gone into the hall behind the auditorium. Working yourself up for it. You were going to talk to him. For the first time in a year. You were gonna do it. You had a reason to. To congratulate him on his performance. Let him know you saw it. Let him know how much better he’d gotten since strumming your Dad’s acoustic in your basement. Maybe you could be friends again. This was your in. 

Until you’d seen him with Chrissy. 

He liked her. You could tell. He really liked her. And you didn’t know why your chest hurt so badly. His hand rubbed against his freshly buzzed hair and she gripped her pom poms to her chest and grinned up at him in a way that made you sick. The way he looked at her, it made your stomach turn. Acidic, bubbling up your throat. Your chest was tight. He’d never looked at you that way. As the rest of the band stumbled out the door carrying equipment, Eddie soon dropped off to help them. Chrissy skipped away to join her friends. 

And you left. Without saying a word. 

You didn’t need him. 

“Chrissy Cunningham?” You asked again. His eyes. You’d never seen them so wide. 

“She’s…dead.” And he didn’t do it. He didn’t… The disbelief on your face. You could feel it. And he could sense the fear.

“Eddie–”

“I didn’t. Y/N, please.” You pulled your hands from his and he chased them, abandoning the coffee mug, gripping your right hand with both of his. “I know you’re not gonna believe me, but please. I didn’t do it. They’re gonna say I did it, but I didn’t.” You had to know he didn’t. Not Eddie. No way. He’d cried when he accidentally killed a ladybug. You had to have a funeral. A headstone made out of twigs. 

“What happened?” It was unbelievable. He was right. But you’d never seen him so scared before. And your gut had never been wrong. But her body, levitating? Bones snapping? Her eyes…

“I didn’t know where else to go.” And he came to you. You felt conflicted. But the timer was running out. “Wayne will be home in a few hours, he’ll find her and then they’ll be looking for me.” You had a choice to make. And you didn’t know what to do. Your eyes drifted back out towards his van. The tick of the clock behind you in silence before you decided,

“We’ve gotta ditch the van.” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, looking back at his glassy and hopeful eyes. “C’mon.” 

Why were you doing this? The early hours of the morning greeted you, Eddie in the backseat under a blanket, van tucked away in the woods by Lovers Lake. There was mud on your shoes from the hike back to your car. Pulling into your driveway with a sigh of relief, “Mom’s not home yet.” As you kill the engine. “Hurry.” 

The basement, untouched. White sheets covered mostly everything, a thick layer of dust on top made the both of you cough as you swept one of them off the couch. The plaid green couch that you’d last sat on the day your Father died. Eddie’s eyes swept the room. 

“Y/N–”

“I couldn’t.” You shook your head. “I couldn’t touch anything.” He nods. It’s an understanding. But so much has happened in the last 8 hours you were pretty sure he wasn’t actually listening anyway. “Mom never comes down here so just don’t make a lot of noise and you’ll be fine.” You could begin to feel how tired you are. The weight in your limbs. Eddie sunk into the couch beside you. A beat of silence, then another.

“Do you believe me?” It was important. You could tell. But you didn’t know. The Eddie you knew wouldn’t have killed anyone. But you weren’t sure if you knew him anymore. Not really. And you weren’t sure if you really were harboring a murderer or not. But it was important for him, to know you believe him. The silence was too loud. “Okay…” He sniffs, “Okay.” 

“Get some rest.” You pushed up from the couch, “When my Mom goes to work we can figure it out.” It had to be enough. For now. And as you started up the stairs you couldn’t help but feel your heart break with the way he looked at you. But you needed sleep. You both did. 

And it hadn’t come easy. 

But in the end it came. And that’s all that mattered. 

Later on that day, Mom had already left before you’d woken up. And you called the diner to let them know that you couldn’t come in. Your eyes couldn’t part with the tv screen. Nails bitten clean off. Down to nubs, painful and a little red. Bacon was frying on the stove. 

“A body was discovered in Forest Hill Trailer park this morning–” Eddie’s trailer not too far in the background. Blurry. Alongside the rest of the trailers in the back. The creak of the basement stairs made you jump, turning quickly to see Eddie creaking the door open. You’d shouted down to him ten minutes ago. He hadn’t responded. You thought he was still asleep. But it didn’t look like he’d slept at all. His eyes instantly shot to the screen where the reporter continued, “Police are asking for cooperation in finding the killer, if you have seen anything suspicious please do not hesitate to call in.” You stepped to the tv and turned the knob, changing the channel to something a little less ominous. 

“Food’s almost ready,” You gesture your head to the bathroom, “Go shower, give me your clothes so I can wash them.” You didn’t know what you were doing. As you shut the lid to the washing machine and cranked the knob. What the hell were you doing? 

Your hands shook as you plated the food in front of him. He was in your Dad’s clothes. Temporarily. Just sweats and a t-shirt, but still. This whole situation was unnerving. 

“Please talk to me.” A whisper. A plea. His voice seemed so soft. You sighed heavily, taking a sip of orange juice. 

“I don’t know what to say.” Which was true. Which was why you weren’t saying anything. What do you say? What could you say? 

“Anything, please.” You watched him push his eggs around his plate. He was nervous. You could hear the clock ticking behind you. The cartoons flashing across the screen not too far away.  And you were sure that your heart was pounding so hard it could burst through your chest at any moment. 

“How is school going?” It felt redundant. Stupid to ask. He’d been held back. Twice. You remember. He tugged his lip between his teeth and shrugged. 

“Thought I was gonna finally graduate.” He thought he was. Who knows what will happen now. “Ms. O’Donnel was giving me some extra credit. Help me get my grade up. All I had to do was pass the final. A 70 or more.” And now he was wanted for murder. “You really haven’t gone down there since…” The basement. 

You cleared your throat, “No.” You wiped your sweaty palms against your shorts, “I couldn’t.” He hesitated and then said,

“I missed you… I missed you a lot.” You scoff. 

“You stopped talking to me.” His brow furrows, 

“No, you stopped talking to me.” You roll your eyes. 

“Eddie–” His fork drops to the plate as there’s a knock on the door. Not just a knock, but a pounding. “My room.” You grab his plate and toss it in the trash, glass in the sink. “Now.” He runs, shutting the door behind him as you step to look into the peephole. You unlock the door and yank it open, stuffing yourself in the empty space, one foot in and one foot out. 

“Harrington?” You were out of breath, needed to calm down, “What are you doing here?” With Buckley and a group of kids you didn’t recognize. You knew Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley only because you’d worked with them for a brief moment before Starcourt burned down. Not really acquaintances at school, not enough to nod.

“Is Eddie here?” A kid with a trucker hat and braces. Your heart begins to race. 

“Henderson, relax.” Steve stood with his hands on his hips, “He means to ask if you’ve seen him.” 

“Why would I have seen him?” You cross your arms, leaning against the door jam. Dustin looks confused, 

“Because he’s in trouble and he talks about you all the time, so why wouldn’t he come to you when he’s in trouble?” The kid, Dustin, steps closer. “We just want to help.” A crash could be heard behind you and Dustin uses that to rush past. 

“Kid!” The rest follow, running in. It doesn’t take long. Dustin enters your room without knocking, with Steve quick to follow. Another crash and you’re running in after them. Eddie had Steve up against the wall. The letter opener from your desk against his throat. Dustin was pushing himself up from the floor where he’d been presumably knocked down in the tussle. “Eddie!”

“Hey, Eddie, it’s okay.” You could feel the audience growing behind you as Dustin began to reason with him. “We’re here to help.”

“Eddie.” You call. His eyes drifted towards yours. Steve is sweating. 

“We’re just here to help.” Robin repeats. You step closer, softly gripping Eddie’s wrist. 

“Here, give it to me.” You can see Eddie’s knuckles are a blistering white against the handle of the sharp letter opener. You could see he’d been going through your desk beforehand. That little black box opened, its contents splayed across the surface. Not really time to think about it now, “Eddie, please.” 

“We just wanna know what happened.” 

His grip loosens on the letter opener, enough for you to slip it from his hand, and he moves. He presses himself into the wall and slides down, resting his forehead on his knees. You squat in front of him, tossing the letter opener on your bed, you rest your hands over his. 

“You guys will never believe me.” It’s mumbled. Shaky. 

“Try us.” It’s the girl. The one whose brother died in the fire last year. You recognize her. She meets your eyes and shrugs. 

It’s unbelievable. But he’s not lying. Not after what they tell you. It kind of feels like a joke. Something sick and twisted from some campaign that’s had nothing but low rolls. Failing at every turn. You feel Eddie’s eyes on you as they talk about the lab. Hawkin’s Lab. What went on there. Something you’re sure your Father knew about. How could he have not? You’re sunk to the floor in front of Eddie. The strength in your legs is long gone. Dustin and Robin are sitting on your bed. Max was still in the doorway. Steve was leaning against your desk. 

“So Vecna…” You began, “Is it just on a list of creatures in the Upside Down?” 

“Not a creature, but… A dark wizard.” Dustin offers. 

“Like in D&D.” Eddie’s hand grazed your arm before settling. It gave you comfort you didn’t know you needed. You read about him. Vecna. In the new book. Briefly. You hadn’t played in a while, but you still kept up on the guide books. The Cult of Vecna. Unfathomable power. 

“So this creature has the power to curse those topside?” You tug your lip between your teeth, “How do they choose? What happens if one of us is next?” 

“It was easier when we had this girl.” Steve offered, “El, she had superpowers. So.” But that didn’t really help us now. Eddie seemed to have some kind of peace with the explanation. It didn’t help his case with local police, but knowing that the government knew about what was going on here in Hawkins made him feel like there could be a way out. 

“If they don’t just pin it on me in a coverup.” Was uttered later. 

But the group decided to go investigate. Leaving the two of you with a walkie talkie and new information you had to mull over. 

After shutting the front door, you made a beeline for the basement. The table in the center, covered for years, you rip the sheet from the surface. Revealing what’s underneath. It looked like a village. Mountains and forest surrounding. Center of town. But now you knew what it was. What it really was. 

“It’s Hawkins.” You tell Eddie. “It was always Hawkins.” The two of you circle to the table. Where your Father would have sat. Where the villains come from. He sat on the edge of the board where the lab would be. “He knew.” You couldn’t help it, bottom lip trembling. “He knew something bad was coming.” 

“They said that the Upside Down didn’t open until 1983.” Eddie reasoned. So what did that mean? He died in 1979. Four years before the Upside Down opened. You shrug. 

“He must have seen something.” You shake your head, looking at the pawns still on the board. “Or maybe he was threatening to tell the truth.” About what was actually going on there. The testing. The kids. Which would mean maybe Eleven knew him. In some capacity. Maybe she would know what happened to him. 

“You kept it.” His knuckles rested on the table. Rings scraping against the surface. You looked up at him questioningly. “The box.” There was fondness there, in his voice. 

“What did Dustin mean?” You ask. “When I opened the door, he said he knew to come here because you talked about me all the time.” His cheeks seemed to flush, he cleared his throat and began, 

“Your Dad introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons, it’s only fair that you’d come up every once in a while.” It wasn’t the answer you’d been hoping for. The disappointment felt high in your chest. It sat like a weight on your heart and you nodded. 

“Makes sense.” There was a pregnant pause. Something that seemed to be itching out of both of your throats, but something that wouldn’t come out. His stomach growled and you sigh, starting back up the stairs, “You never finished your breakfast.” 

He’d changed a bit since you’d last seen him. The chains weren’t new. Neither was the clothing he had on, fresh from the dryer. But his hair was longer. He had tattoos now. His face had lost that last bit of baby weight. He looked almost too thin. But that’s what being poor is like. There wasn’t always food. Which is why he was currently inhaling everything you’d put before him. 

Something in him settled after talking to the group. His appetite came back at least. 

“I’m going to head to the store.” You shuffle towards the cabinet, pulling a coffee tin out of the back behind a box of honeycomb. “I’ll grab some groceries,” You flip through a few bills, “Some snacks for you to keep downstairs.” Because for half the day he won’t be up here. Shoving the coffee can back, you turn to bills being pushed in your face. 

“Here.” One hand outstretched towards you with the money, and the other still holding his wallet open. Empty. This $34 is the only money he had. “Could you grab me a six pack too?” Money exchanged, you looked at him exasperated. 

“I don’t think you should be drinking right now.” 

“Well I don’t have any weed and I can’t calm my nerves.” He exaggerates his hand shaking which makes you roll your eyes. 

“You’re so annoying.” As you slip on your shoes you hear him say his appreciation, muffled by the door slamming behind you. 

It wasn’t far. Two minute drive. There was too much to process as you walked through the grocery store, throwing things in the cart haphazardly. Eddie didn’t kill Chrissy. He was just dealing to her. She was cursed by Vecna, killed. In his trailer. And no one knew where he would strike next. If he would strike next. And your Father… his death was not an accident. 

Government coverup is more likely. 

You stopped in front of the cooler section. The beers in variety staring back at you. You felt overwhelmed. And suddenly, very, very tired. You grabbed the cheapest six pack you could find and hit the register. 

It was as you loaded the groceries into the car that you saw them. Jason Carver was hard to miss with his blonde hair and letterman jacket. Followed by a group dressed the same. He looked devastated. He was Chrissy’s boyfriend. That’s what Eddie told you. When he looked your way you caught a chill. Did he know? How could he know? Were you just paranoid? You tore your eyes away as fast as possible and slammed the trunk. You had to get out of here. 

Eddie was watching cartoons on the couch when you returned. 

“I’d help you, but–”

“Yeah, yeah.” Two trips later the groceries were laid out and sorted. “Take this downstairs.” A paper bag filled with chips and chocolate. Candy. Snacks you could remember him liking. The six pack was placed in the basement’s mini fridge, plugged back into the wall for the first time in a long time. But the beer wouldn’t last long. Eddie had already cracked one open before you’d placed it in there. 

The two of you settled on the couch, staring at what was a Lord of the Rings, rather, a Middle Earth inspired Hawkins. 

“I think we need to talk.” Your admission made him take a deep intake of breath. He took a deeper pull from his beer. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” The two of you sat in silence for a moment. Staring at each other. The sun had set fully just a moment ago. 

“Do you want to start or–” Eddie clears his throat and picks at the torn fabric of his jeans. 

“I’m not sure what to say to start.” He admitted. 

“Maybe why you–” Left me, “Stopped talking to me. All Together.” He thought about it for a beat. Then another. 

“I didn’t mean to.” Guilt. “I didn’t really… I guess I didn’t really fight to keep you around.” When you’d met Gareth and Jeff they’d been apprehensive. They didn’t want you taking Eddie away from them, away from the band. They said you’d be a distraction. “Which I didn’t get because how could you have been?” You’d been such an important part of his life that summer. But like Yoko Ono had broken up the Beatles, you’d break them up too. “Which is crazy because I didn’t even think of you as a girl.” Ouch. “Not that I didn’t know–it’s not that I didn’t see you as a girl–I just never really thought about you like that.” Double ouch. He buried himself. And it was hard for you to swallow. The dead skin on your finger suddenly seemed far more interesting.

“I didn’t exactly put up a fight either.” You’d just accepted it. He started hanging out with Gareth and Jeff when school started back up and that’s when he’d started walking by you in the halls. You’d go to greet him and he’d turn the other way. It broke your heart. But more than that. You had to explain to your Dad why Eddie suddenly wasn’t coming over. That hurt more than anything. You remember how upset he’d gotten for you, but then tried to explain how kids were. 

“He’ll come back around,” Your Dad promised, “He will.” 

“Still…” Eddie continued, “I should have done more.” But he tried. Maybe. The interaction in the hall. Just after your Dad died. 

“You tried to talk to me and I pushed you away.” That one was your fault. No doubt about that. But Eddie shook his head. 

“You were grieving.” 

“And I really needed you.” It came out more of a whimper than you wanted. “And I still pushed you away.” He places the now empty beer can on the floor and leans back against the arm rest, head tipping back to look at the ceiling. 

“I thought about just coming over.” Eddie shrugged, “I think I even got to your door once or twice, but I just couldn’t do it.” His voice was terse, angry. “Which makes sense… I’m a coward after all. I just run.” He was sore over leaving Chrissy’s body like that. She died alone. Afraid. And he ran. “I just run away when things get hard.” Just like when he couldn’t face you in the hall. In middle school, right there at the beginning. He would turn the other way. Avoid. “After your Dad died I kept hoping, maybe you’d come to me.” Maybe you’d seek him out. For comfort. 

“I wanted to.” But you couldn’t. You thought… there was no place for you in his life anymore. You didn’t want to risk the rejection on top of it all. You thought him reaching out to you was just for pity. 

“It wasn’t.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Your Dad… was the best.” His Dad was a jailbird. Teaching him how to steal from when he had honed his fine motor skills. How to hotwire a car. How to peddle drugs. Your Dad though, was everything he had wanted his Dad to be. Everything he could have hoped for in a Father. And your Dad was so giving with the love and approval he had. “I cared about him, and about you.” You waited for the ‘I still do.’ It seemed absent. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The two of you sat in silence. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” It feels stupid now. In light of everything. You’d both been too scared. You’d both ran away from one another, and for a brief moment your mind wanders to what could have been. You’d have been in Hellfire Club. A founder maybe. Eddie, who you once taught the game, would have been your Dungeon Master. You’d have been together. Through all of it. Maybe you’d have gone to prom together. Maybe Eddie wouldn’t have failed high school had you been there to tutor him. He wouldn’t have been dealing to Chrissy. He wouldn’t have been there when she died and she wouldn’t have died in his trailer. Maybe this is all your fault. 

“Hey.” A touch to your hand. “Where did you go just then?” You forgot how big his eyes were. God, you forgot how big his eyes were. How full his lips were. You shook your head, retreating in on yourself. 

“Just thinking about something stupid.” Pushing yourself from the couch, away from him, you’d fetched him blankets from upstairs. The chest at the end of your bed and spared him a pillow. “This might be better for you tonight.” Hopefully he could finally get some sleep. 

“Thanks.” He settled back onto the couch, feet hanging off the end by a hair. 

“I’ll uh… talk to you tomorrow.” Before you could retreat his hand reached out and grasped yours. 

“Thank you, honestly, for everything.” Your heart skips a beat as he brushes his lips to your knuckles. Briefly. 

“You’re welcome, for everything."

#LOVE LOVE LOVE #this is. so good omg #katherine's fic recs. ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

so uhm.

vol 2....... 🙂

#katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡ #literally. what #I'm in shambles #do not have the strength to DO THIS TODAY !

[grrlsoft]

THIS IS SO CUTE AHHHH SOBS IM IN LOVE

ok ok random thought, but imagine waking up to eddie’s beautiful face in the morning.

OMG OMG OMG YES.

eddie would be the most cuddly and affectionate person in the morning. whenever he rubs his eyes, sleep filled with them, his day is instantly made better at the sight of your sleeping state.

he would adore your beauty for several minutes, his dimples shining brightly under the thin film of dawn though the curtains. he would brush gentle strokes on your cheeks, slowly driving his way into waking you from your slumber.

your eyes would flutter open softly to only be met with the sight of a beautiful shirtless eddie. his brown curls were framing his face perfectly and you smiled at his beauty.

“good morning, sweetheart,” eddie mumbled, slithering an arm around your waist to pull you in for an adoring kiss. you pushed him back slightly, your hands covering your lips.

“morning breath, babe.”

“does it look like i care? give me a kiss, baby.” this time, you were unable to pull away from his strong grip. he shifted his body so he was now hovering on top of you, capturing your lips in a hungry embrace.

“eddie, we need to go to school. c’mon,” you ushered, but your words were interrupted when eddie suddenly peppered kisses on the sweet sensitives spots of your neck.

a soft moan begrudgingly escaped your lips and your eyes closed in pleasure. you could feel the smug smirk and before he could do go any further, you writhed your body, so you were now on top of him.

“it’s the morning, eddie. we can save that stuff later after school.”

#my sweet boy #katherine's fic recs. ∘˚˳° ♡ #charity !! ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

[grrlsoft]

my HEART.

joseph quinn being an adorable angel. ☁️💗

#hes so cute #literally how is he real #so so obsessed with him #katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

Eddie Munson loves to let you borrow his things, whether you ask for them or not.

At first it’s simple and sweet. You need a pen? He’s got you covered. Sun’s in your eyes? Well, now his sunglasses are on your face. Stepped in something wet with your socks on? He’s practically sprinting to his bedroom to get you a fresh (and hopefully clean) pair, regardless of whether or not they’ll fit you bc he’s just that eager.

Somehow it escalates from there. Quickly, it becomes rare that you ever find yourself leaving his company without something of his. It’s constant throughout your relationship, and it’s one of the things that made you fall in love with him so damn quickly.

Sometimes he’s really sneaky with it– tucks a few of his hair ties or some chapstick in your coat pocket, strings one of his rings onto your necklace chain when you’ve taken it off to sleep, or even brings a mug from his house to yours and puts it oh-so-innocently in your kitchen cupboard when you’re not looking.

Other times it’s right in front of your eyes. You’ll be mid-conversation when he decides you need one of his pins on your shirt, that his bracelet will go perfectly with your outfit today, or that his bandana needs to be in your back pocket for whatever reason. He doesn’t miss a beat as he continues to go on with whatever you’re chatting about, but you can see the proud little sparkle in his puppy eyes when he steps back to admire his work.

You’ve asked Eddie about it exactly once, way back when you first got together.

He’s still standing so close that when he laughs you can feel his breath, almost cool against your ever-warming cheek as he attaches one of his pins to your shirt. It must catch him off guard when you voice your curiosity because the fingers, that have been absentmindedly smoothing down the fabric of your collar, falter in their movements.

And he begins to look almost… sheepish.

His head tilts down in an attempt to hide behind his curls, eyes wide and pupils so huge you’re put into a trance. Silly boy says, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice, that it’s so you won’t forget.

Forget about him.

The only thing you can think to do in that moment is kiss him.

So you do. Again, and again, and again, as you try to find a way to assure to him that there’s is no way in hell you’d ever be able to forget the love of your whole life.

Even if he wasn’t leaving little pieces of himself behind to remind you.

#im going to cry #this is serious the cutest thing ive ever read #obsessed. #katherine's fic recs. ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

In the aftermath of Roe v. Wade being overturned, here’s some resources:

1. AbortionFinder.org

2. Planned Parenthood’s Find a Health Center

3. ABC News’ state-by-state legality list

4. Politico’s state-by-state legality list

Abortion-friendly (one asterisk indicates potential change and two asterisks indicate some limitations) U.S. states include:

Alaska

Arizona*

California

Colorado

Connecticut

Delaware

D.C.

Florida**

Georgia*

Hawaii

Illinois

Indiana**

Iowa**

Kansas**

Maine

Maryland

Massachusetts

Michigan*

Minnesota

Montana

Nebraska**

Nevada**

New Jersey

New Hampshire**

New Mexico

New York**

North Carolina*

Ohio*

Oregon

Pennsylvania**

Rhode Island

South Carolina*

Vermont

Virginia**

Washington

5. Finally, an important reminder: Research Shows Access to Legal Abortion Improves Women’s Lives

#boost #important #roe v wade #abortion #abortion fund #america #donation #donation help #resources #donate #news #world news

[grrlsoft]

abortion is a human right. my partner and I have compiled an exhaustive document with links to abortion funds and pro-choice organizations to support during this time, including state-specific resources. please consider donating + sharing!!! 

linked: here

#!!!!!!!!!!!! #boost #donate #fundraiser #abortion fund #help #news #abortion #roe v wade #america #donation post #important #world news

[grrlsoft]

petition to find everyone who has ever been mean to eddie and beat them up 😍

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ love like blood : eddie munson

summary : when your best friend Eddie doesn't show up to drive you home from school, you assume that he's just gone to impromptu Hellfire Club meeting. but little do you know, his reasons for being late are much, much worse.

pairing : Eddie Munson x gn!reader

author's note : eddie angst. thats the tweet. also this is when eddie and reader r just friends but are crushing on each other lolz so no established relationship yet (pls eddie deserves someone who will care for him sobs)

song inspo is love like blood by killing joke !!

warnings : angst with a fluffy ending, mentions of injuries and blood, bullying

you take a long, deep breath, inhaling the smell of damp leaves and overgrown grass. it's fall in Hawkins, one of your favorite seasons, but winter is soon on the rise. large, looming clouds fill the gray sky and block out the sun, giving everything a cold, hazy hue. you shiver as the wind blows through your sweater (although you had made sure to wear multiple layers, the wind persisted), and you check your watch. 

it’s 3:47 pm and Eddie is late to meet up with you outside of Hawkins High, something that he does every day. it's sort of become a ritual for the two of you, something you never break unless one of you has pre-established plans.

you don't mind the delay much, as he is usually busy talking with his friends after school hours or perhaps getting a talking to by a teacher, but him being this late is rather unusual, especially since the two of you had made plans to hang out. you rock back and forth on your feet as you clutch your textbooks in your arms. it's a nervous habit. 

the inside of your nose starts to burn by how frigid the air is becoming so you nuzzle your chin into the collar of your sweater. the janitor passes you and your worry increases. 

maybe he's at a Hellfire Club meeting, you think to yourself, one that he didn't tell you about. that would be unlikely, since Eddie can't help but tell you every single thing that he does, but it's not like you're required to know what he's doing at what time. he's not obligated to constantly update you (even though you sort of like it when he does).

as well as being worried about his absence, him being missing leaves you without a ride home from school. the two of you were planning to go to the record store after school today too, but if he wasn't gonna show…

you walk home after a few more minutes of waiting. you don't want to catch a cold just because Eddie had a different obligation that you didn't know about. maybe he was in detention.

but something about it didn't seem right. it seemed unusual for him. 

you shouldn't worry about it, you tell yourself. he can handle himself. he's a big boy.

the walk home is boring and long but you enjoy looking at the red and yellow leaves that blow off the tall trees. you think about halloween and what costume you'd like to wear (as well as wondering if Eddie would want to dress up with you too). the fall air always brings thoughts of costumes and candy to your mind.

once you finally reach your house, you take refuge in comfier clothes and make yourself some popcorn as an after school snack. you turn on the TV and find that there's nothing playing that interests you at the moment, so you instead pad up to your room and put on a record. you sink into bed, already feeling sleep beginning to overtake you. you have completely forgotten about the math assignment you need to do, but that is the farthest thing from your mind. 

you snuggle up in your white bedsheets and the sound of your record seems farther and farther away until a loud series of knocks disturbs your almost peaceful rest. you blink your bleary, distantly sleepy eyes open and tumble out of bed, heading downstairs. 

the knocking gets louder and sort of frantic and you shout a quick just a second! and open the door. 

you rub your eyes as the fading light of day blinds you momentarily. you then look at who's standing on your doorstep. 

"Eddie?" you say, unable to mask your horror. 

he's half leaning on your doorframe, a bloodied hand resting on the trimmed, white wood. his lip is split and his nose is smeared with blood, his face pale and ashen. his right eye is hidden by a grisly, purple splotch, soon turning a whole myriad of other colors. it reminds you of a watercolor project you helped him do for art class. 

his brown eyes look at you sadly, blankly. your mouth is wide open.

you don't say anything. he doesn't say anything either. 

"jesus christ, Eddie, I-" you search for words to say to him, but your mind is still trying to make sense of the situation. all you can manage to do is take his arm carefully and usher him inside. 

"here, come in," you say as steadily as you possibly can. he follows you slowly, and you're worried that he's limping.

his eyes are trained on the carpeted floor and you close the door behind you. he stands in your front walkway and is still quiet. you open and close your mouth, stammering. 

"Eddie," you finally say his name with all the gentleness in the world, "Eddie, what happened?" 

you touch his arm delicately and frown disheartedly when he flinches.

he continues to be eerily silent, but his eyes keep moving from the floor to your face apprehensively. he blinks a few times and shakes his head. 

"just some stupid basketball assholes, that's all," he finally responds, and it's like a breath of fresh air to hear his voice, no matter how hoarse it is. you furrow your brows. 

"they… did this to you?" you ask, and he nods. you clench your fists and feel your stomach churn with anger. all that time you had been waiting for him, he had been getting beaten up. your eyes burn.

"..why?" you manage, and Eddie gives you an almost unnoticeable shrug. 

"doesn't matter," he replies. you sigh, knowing how untrue his statement was. but you don't want to pry, as it would probably make him upset. 

"uh, here, let me go get you an ice pack or something," you say suddenly as you scamper off to the kitchen, opening the door of your freezer frantically. Eddie watches how desperate you are to help him and it gives him a funny feeling in his stomach.

you find one, icy and blue, and you hand it to him. he takes it in his bruised hand yet doesn't move. 

"how about- how about you go up to my room while I look for some medicine or something for you," you muster a smile. you watch nervously as he nods, then makes the trek up the stairs to your room. 

you hurriedly inspect your cabinets for some medicine, opening and closing doors haphazardly, not caring if the contents inside fall over. you finally return to your bedroom with a little white bottle of tylenol, a glass of water, and your mother's first aid kit that you have never used. you're no nurse, but you want to make sure that Eddie is alright. it's the only thing that matters to you.

the sight of him slumped on the edge of your bed makes your heart break, and you carefully sit down next to him. he doesn't meet your gaze, his hands gripping the ice pack you had given him so tightly that you think it might break. his knuckles are stained with crimson blood. 

"hi," you greet him, pressing your arm against his own. his fingers brush against your leg. "I got you water and some meds."

he takes the glass of water, putting the white pills on his tongue and he downs it in no time. he gives the glass back to you and you set it on your bedside table. 

the room is quiet save for the sound of the chilly wind blowing from your open window. your heart is beating out of your chest. you put your hand on top of Eddie's own and you can feel him shaking. he stills for a moment, your touch comforting and warm.

you don't say anything but you look over at the brown haired boy. you brush your thumb against the inside of his hand and he suddenly turns his gaze to you, his eyes unsure and almost fearful. 

"sorry that I-" his voice cracks, a sound so incredibly foreign coming from him, "I didn't mean to-" 

a few tears slip down his pale cheeks and he hiccups. he turns away from you. 

"god, this is so fucking stupid." he manages, brown eyes watery. he sniffles. 

your eyes go wide, surprised by his sudden, tearful state. 

for the first time in the entirety of your friendship with Eddie Munson, you were seeing him cry. and it startles you. 

you snap yourself out of your momentary shock as Eddie covers his face with a bruised hand, his sniffles growing more frequent. you stammer and move closer to him. 

"oh Eddie, Eddie it's alright," you console the distraught boy as you rest your hand on his forearm. "it's okay, you don't have to cry." 

a gasp leaves your throat involuntarily when Eddie wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head in the crook of your neck. he pulls you into him, your chest now flush with his own. you can feel the wetness of his tears staining your skin as well as his bloodied hands clutching the fabric of your shirt. he sobs loudly and you reach a loving hand up to rub his back. you rest your head on his own and listen to him cry, his body shaking.

it feels strange to see him like this - so small and vulnerable. Eddie was all talk, all swift turns on the heel and side eyes with mischievous smirks. but this was so much different.

it makes him seem a little more human, you think to yourself. it makes you understand him better.

you run your hands through his hair and trace your fingers along his spine as he sobs into you. you're quiet, not daring to speak in fear somehow saying the wrong thing, and also because you don't think that's what he needs. sometimes people don't want to be talked to; they just want to be held.

and you do this with proficiency. you are careful with him like he's a delicate little thing made of porcelain or glass. eventually his crying softens and his sniffles decrease in number. he sits in your arms silently for a long while and you let him. you would wait like this for hours if that's what he wanted. you think that the two of you should do this more often, hopefully under nicer circumstances.

you blink when he pulls away from you, but he keeps his face close to your own. he drags his knuckles across his face, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. the blood of his hands mixes with his tears.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles almost shamefully. you rest your hands on his knees. 

"don't apologize," you reassure him kindly, "you don't need to." 

Eddie looks at you with wide eyes and laces his fingers with your own. 

"thank you for being so-" he searches for the right words to say, "so good to me. so nice and everything." 

you smile at him and your eyes are filled with adoration. you have a million things you wish to say but now is not the time. you squeeze his hand while also making sure not to squeeze too hard.

"thank you for coming to me," you reply, "for trusting me." 

Eddie smiles a sad smile in return and you apprehensively raise your hand to his face, but you pause before your palm meets his cheek. 

"can I..?" you murmur and Eddie nods at you with a sort of dreamy, unreadable expression.

"please," he whispers and you almost melt. your soft hand grazes the battered skin of his face as you inspect his bruises. 

"god," you whisper, frustration and anger lacing your tone, "can't believe those assholes can get away with doing things like this to people." 

Eddie shrugs and doesn't look at you, he's far too nervous to. "that's what happens when you're rich, I guess." 

"I know, but," you sigh, not knowing how to fully articulate all the annoyance and sadness you have within your chest, "it's just so unfair."

you suddenly withdraw your hand when you accidentally touch the bruised area around Eddie's eye, causing him to flinch, but he grabs your wrist before you can fully pull away.

"no-" he begins, his eyes looking deep into yours before he swallows thickly with nervousness, "don't. it feels- feels nice." 

you blink owlishly at him but you respect his wishes, bestowing your touch to its rightful place. you chuckle as Eddie sighs into your palm, closing his eyes. his skin feels warm where your fingers graze it.

"I still have to clean you up," you murmur as you gaze at his bloodied lips and nose. you wipe away some of the blood from his lip. he chases your touch with what you almost think to be a kiss, but maybe you're seeing things. Eddie's eyes open and he looks softly at you. 

"well, you better get to it, then," he smiles, a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. "unless you wanna sit here and touch my face for forever." 

you laugh and he laughs too, the two of you slipping back into the easiness of your friendship. the tension has begun to fade away. 

"you were the one who wanted it so bad," you tilt your head and grin. he raises a brow at you. 

"you were the one who brought that whole first aid kit up here and still haven't opened it," he says pointedly, "are you gonna let me bleed out, or what?" 

you laugh and the noise is angelic. you reach for the white box and Eddie gazes at you all the while. he wants to touch you again, or rather for you to touch him - to rest his head on your shoulder and have you thread your fingers through his hair, but he's far too nervous to do so or even ask. 

so he doesn't do anything at all. he just sits and stares at you while you grab your first aid kit, not really listening as you talk about how you've never bandaged anyone up like this besides yourself. the light of your lamp casts a warm glow on the delicate features of your face. he wonders what your lips would feel like against his own bruised ones.

a part of him wishes he'd get injured more often, just so you'd be there to fix him.

#katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

#AH #ahhhHHHH!3!$!$! #ah. #him #katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

absolutely no one:

eddie munson: carrying his lunch box full of dr*gs around school

#and we love him for that #katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡

[grrlsoft]

anyway uhmm thinking about writing an actual series for eddie....like smth with chapters n shit. probs won't be very long and idk if I'll actually follow thru with it but !!! it's in the works perhaps (or rather thoughts r spinning around in my brain and I haven't actually written anything yet)

#katherine's rambles ∘˚˳° ♡